“What about her digital footprint, aside from the computer? Does she have a mobile phone?” Tamara asked.
“We haven’t found the suitcase she left home with on the Friday evening, her mobile phone nor traced the shoes she was wearing either,” Janssen said, sounding frustrated. Eric figured that if they found any of those then they would be on to where she spent her last hours, who with and perhaps, how she wound up dead.
“I’ve been onto the phone company for her records. They should come through tomorrow.” Eric was pleased he had something useful to contribute, to demonstrate his value. “The phone is switched off or out of signal. I tried yesterday and this morning. I also spoke with the tutor last night.”
“Good,” Janssen said. They had been unable to reach him throughout the day on Saturday. “What did he have to say?”
“Holly never showed up for her tutorial.” The tutor was amenable and came across as very organised when they’d spoken on the phone. “He claims he called the parents at home in case there was a misunderstanding in the scheduling but only got the machine. Says he left a message.”
“Marie said she was at choral practice on Friday night, dropping Holly off at the bus stop.” Janssen said aloud, presumably for Greave’s benefit. “Neither of them mentioned an answerphone message. I guess they might not have picked it up.”
Eric was pleased he could contribute again. “I also spoke with the bus driver on Friday’s route and he didn’t recall picking anyone up in Burnham Market, Friday evening. He said it was a quiet route at that time of the evening and he would have remembered if Holly got on. She makes that journey a couple of times a week and he was confident he would recognise her.”
Tamara turned to him, concentrating hard. “I read in your notes that the Bettanys planned for Holly to go to medical school, follow in their footsteps. Is that right?” She looked to both of them in turn, they both nodded. “What was the tutor’s assessment of Holly? I take it you asked the question?”
Eric blew an internal, silent sigh of relief. He had asked. “Curiously, the tutor didn’t think Holly’s heart was in her academic studies.” Tamara’s eyes narrowed, focussing on him intently. “He said she seemed…” He thought hard to remember. “Distracted recently. Yes, that was how he put it, distracted.”
“Did he say by what?” Janssen asked. The tutor had been reluctant to speculate, so Eric didn’t know. He shook his head.
“Sounds to me like we still don’t really have a handle on who the real Holly Bettany is,” Tamara said, stepping back from the desk and pacing away. Eric considered she was momentarily lost in thought and he exchanged glances with Janssen. His DI giving little away as usual. He could be a hard man to read sometimes and that made him intimidating. At least, it did to Eric. Tamara turned, perching herself on the edge of a desk. “I want us to revisit Holly’s friends and we really need to locate Mark McCall. According to this friend of hers, Amelia, she was dating Mark in some sense of the word. I want to know the extent of their relationship as well as why they kept it so quiet. It seems to me that their peer group were aware but only the parents were in the dark. If so, we should have no shortage of people who can shed some light on them as a couple. Eric, you go into the sixth form tomorrow, if you have to.”
“In the meantime,” Janssen said once she appeared to have finished handing out assignments, “I’ll head back out to speak with Ken Francis, see if he can direct us to some art classes Holly may have attended. You never know, he may have been there himself.” Janssen looked to her, seeking approval or was he looking to call the shots? It was hard to tell. After a moment, she nodded. “I can drop you at your B&B if you like. Give you a chance to freshen up.”
“Do I look tired or something?” she replied. The words sounded sharp, accusatory, as if coming from someone suffering from a lack of sleep. Eric felt awkward. As if he was standing between two parents gearing up to have a mild disagreement. Janssen smiled and the tension Eric perceived was there, evaporated. He was often prone to interpreting things that just weren’t there. Paranoia, his mother always said.
“Not at all. You can always come along if you like?”
“I will. You can drop me off on the way back, though.” She glanced at Eric’s desk. He wasn’t sure if she was assessing the damage to his paperwork or revisiting his clumsiness. “And if you know of somewhere where we can have lunch on the way, that’d be grand too.” Eric followed her gaze and his eyes fell on his sandwich. His stomach rumbled. He was also hungry.
Chapter Twelve
Tamara looked forward to seeing the names on the road signs as they flashed by. Burnham Overy Staithe was the next to catch her eye. She hadn’t spent much time in this part of the county. Since the move east her time was dominated by finding her feet in Norwich. The personal requirement to prove her ability in the role was almost all-consuming. Taking on the mantle she set herself was already impacting on the rest of her life, that being Richard and their impending marriage. Not that they’d set a date, much to her future mother-in-law’s chagrin. Wait until she finds out we’re not getting married in a church.
Another road sign. This one was Egmere. Trying to remember her history, she thought all the hams and the thorpes derived from Old English but then again, the impact of Norse on the region was well
