A Christmas Shadow, page 8
“Locations?”
“No, sorry, Chief. Maybe they always met at the same place, so she didn’t need to write it down.”
“Maybe. Assuming she disappeared sometime over the weekend, is there any mention of her meeting anyone on Saturday or Sunday?”
“No, it’s mainly details of where and when she was working, but there’s a bit of scribbling out. It looks like she was trying to rearrange her shifts for yesterday.”
Shadow grunted in response. He was standing in front of Anna’s pinboard. It was mainly covered with photographs of Anna and what he assumed was her family. There was a picture of Anna with her parents and a smaller version of herself, the little sister Jake had told them about. She had certainly been a striking young woman. Even without a formal identification there was now no doubt the body they had recovered was her. Shadow sighed to himself. Only twenty-three years old. The same age Luisa was when she’d died. At least Luisa’s death had been an accident; someone hadn’t violently ended her life on purpose.
“That’s weird!” exclaimed Jimmy suddenly.
“What is?” asked Shadow as he carefully removed a photo of Anna on her own from the board and slipped it into his pocket.
“Look, Chief, she’s written your name.”
Shadow walked over and studied the page Jimmy was holding open. There it was quite clearly. Chief Inspector Shadow written in the young woman’s neatly curved handwriting. The entry was for the previous evening and was next to the letters SF.
“That’s for last night. The shift she didn’t turn up for,” he said. “It looks like she was originally meant to be working at lunchtime, but swapped shifts to the evening instead. Perhaps she knew I usually dine there on a Monday and wanted to speak to me.”
Jimmy nodded. “That makes sense, Chief.”
“Well, I think it sounds very fishy,” said a voice behind them. Both detectives jumped and turned around to see Marjorie Prentis watching them with her arms folded and a look of disapproval on her face. “And what do you both think you’re doing poking around in Anna’s things. What’s she been up to?”
“I’m sorry to inform you that we have reason to believe Miss Novak may be dead,” replied Shadow.
Marjorie showed no sign of surprise or shock but narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Was it drugs?”
“What makes you say that?”
Marjorie shrugged. “Well, she was only young and she looked healthy enough, but she was a bit on the skinny side. You can’t always tell, can you? And only last night there was a report in the Herald about all those druggies in the coach park needing to be taken to hospital. Wasting NHS resources on the likes of them. It’s taxpayers like me who have to foot the bill. They should have been left there. That would teach them not to mess about with drugs.”
“Miss Novak was reported missing and a body matching her description was recovered from the river early this morning.”
“How did she end up there?”
Shadow didn’t answer the question.
“When did you last see her?” he asked instead.
Marjorie shrugged again. “I can’t remember when I last spoke to her, but she was here late on Sunday afternoon. We were taking the orders of service for the Advent ceremony from the office over to the Minster at about five-ish. I happened to look up and she was closing her curtains.”
Shadow nodded. “Was she alone?”
“How am I supposed to know? I only saw her for a second.”
“Did you know her well?”
“Not really.”
“Would you say she was a good tenant?”
“Yes, she was,” conceded Marjorie, a little reluctantly. “Clean, tidy, polite, she always paid her rent on time and no parties or loud music blaring out like some of our younger tenants.”
“I see. Well, thank you for your time, Mrs Prentis. You have been very helpful.”
Pursing her lips, Marjorie nodded. “All right, but before you leave, I want you to come to the office and sign something to say you’ve been rummaging around up here. This is Minster property. If anything of Anna’s has gone missing, I don’t want to be held responsible.”
“As you wish, Mrs Prentis,” replied Shadow as Marjorie stomped back down the stairs.
“Poor Mr Prentis,” murmured Jimmy, who had been rapidly noting down everything Marjorie had told them. “She’s a nightmare!”
“Yes,” agreed Shadow, “but useful. Now we know Anna was probably killed sometime on Sunday evening and before she was due at La Dolce Vita on Monday morning, assuming that is what DV stands for.”
They spent another half an hour looking through Anna’s belongings but found little more of interest. They left the flat and knocked on the doors of each of Anna’s neighbours, but nobody appeared to be at home. When they stepped back out on to the cobbled street, the twitching curtains in the offices across the road told Shadow that Mrs Prentis was watching and waiting for him.
“You get back to the station and see what forensics and Sophie have to report,” said Shadow. “Hopefully, she’ll be able to confirm the time of death. Then try to arrange a visit to that hotel so we can see if there is any connection between Smith and Anna.”
“Okay, Chief. Where are you going?” asked Jimmy.
“To break the news about Anna to Lucia and Francesco. As soon as I can escape from here, that is.” He pushed open the office door and entered Marjorie’s lair. He quickly scribbled his signature on the sheaf of papers she had waiting for him and was about to leave again when she stopped him.
“Not so fast! There’s something else, while you are here. I’ve got the paperwork for that wine that made the dean ill.” Marjorie pushed another piece of paper across the desk. “Look there, you can see it was signed by Canon Marchman. It had nothing to do with me. That’s a photocopy for you. Take it with you and make sure you file it away properly.”
“Thank you, Mrs Prentis,” replied Shadow politely as he folded the sheet of paper and slipped it into his pocket, although in truth he hadn’t given the wine much thought since they’d discovered Anna’s body.
*
The Minster bells were striking eleven o’clock as he left the offices and headed down Ogleforth, to Goodramgate, then on to Petergate. When Shadow arrived outside La Scuola Femminile, Marco was opening the door.
“Hello, Chief Inspector,” he said politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon and we don’t usually see you at lunchtime. The kitchen isn’t quite open yet, but I’m sure we can rustle you something up.”
“That’s kind, Marco, but no thank you,” replied Shadow. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call. Are your mum and dad around? I’d like to speak to them before your customers start to arrive.”
Looking worried, Marco led Shadow into the private dining room at the back of the restaurant. A few moments later, Lucia came hurrying in, looking anxious as she wiped her hands on a striped cloth.
“Marco said you wanted to talk to me. I’m sorry, but Francesco is out at the wholesaler’s. Is something wrong, Chief Inspector?”
Shadow pulled a chair out for her.
“Yes, Lucia. Perhaps you should sit down. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Lucia obediently took a seat as Shadow cleared his throat.
“Late last night, you reported that Anna Novak, one of your employees, was missing.”
“Oh Anna is more than an employee. She has only been with us a few months, but she was like one of the family. Has something happened to her?”
Shadow nodded slowly. He hated this part of his job. Even after all these years, it never got any easier.
“I’m very sorry, Lucia, but we think Anna is dead. We found the body of a young woman in the river in the early hours of this morning. No formal identification has been made, but the body does match Anna’s description.”
Lucia’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. Marco, who had been hovering in the doorway, hurried forward and wrapped his arms around his mother.
“I’m sorry,” repeated Shadow, awkwardly handing his handkerchief to Lucia, who was now sobbing loudly.
“What happened?” asked Marco.
“We don’t know yet,” replied Shadow. “Can you tell me when you last saw her?”
Marco nodded. “Yes, it was on Saturday. She finished her shift at two thirty, as usual. She said goodbye and confirmed she would be working on Monday night instead of at lunchtime. Looking back, I guess she was a bit quiet.”
“I knew something was wrong,” interrupted Lucia between sobs. “I should have asked Francesco to speak to you as soon as she didn’t turn up, Chief Inspector. She was never late, never.”
“How long had she been working here? I don’t recall ever seeing her,” asked Shadow.
“She normally only worked lunchtime shifts,” explained Marco, “but she’d been here since the end of summer. Dad will have the exact date if you need it.”
“Thank you – that would be helpful,” replied Shadow.
Lucia reached out and took his hand. “After her shift, she would sometimes stay in the kitchen for a bite to eat and a chat. She spoke Italian like one of us. Then she would dash off again. She had so many jobs I couldn’t keep track of her. On her feet here and all night at that hotel. Then up early to clean up after those two messy young men.”
“Do you mean Joseph Ingham and Toby Woodhouse at La Dolce Vita?” queried Shadow.
“Hah, La Dolce Vita!” tutted Lucia, her expression telling Shadow exactly what she thought of the place. “Anna was wasted there. She was such a good girl, working hard and sending money home.”
Tears began rolling down her face again, but Shadow pressed on, wanting to get the interview over with as soon as possible. He hated seeing Lucia and her son so upset.
“There is something else I would like to ask you about. We found her diary and my name was written in it. Had she ever mentioned me to you?”
Lucia looked up and wiped her eyes. “It was me who mentioned you to her, Chief Inspector. Let me explain.” She took a deep breath to try to compose herself. “Anna had been very quiet on Friday. I asked her if something was wrong and she said she was worried. She thought someone had done something bad, but she wasn’t sure and didn’t want to get anyone into trouble. I asked if she meant bad like a crime, and she said yes. So, I told her she should go to the police, but she shook her head. She looked scared. I asked her if she was frightened of being seen going to the police station. She nodded and looked like she was going to cry. That’s when I told her about you. I told her which nights you usually come here and that if she was here, I was sure you would speak to her privately and nobody would ever have to know.”
“And she liked that idea?” asked Shadow.
“Oh yes, she seemed very relieved. That’s when she asked to change her shift from Monday lunchtime to Monday evening. So, you see when Francesco called me and said she hadn’t come in I sensed straightaway something was wrong. I hoped you would still be here, so I could talk to you, but you had left already, and we were so busy…” She trailed off and began sobbing again. Shadow stood up.
“Please, Lucia, you must not blame yourself,” he said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. Then he turned to Marco and lowered his voice. “We are trying to contact Anna’s family, but if for any reason they aren’t able to come over, we may need someone who knew her to identify the body.”
The young man nodded.
“It might be better to ask Dad,” said Marco. “I’m sure he’ll do it if you need him to.”
“Of course,” agreed Shadow. “You stay with her, Marco. I’ll see myself out.”
*
Back at the station, Shadow found Jimmy in the incident room that had been set up.
“Hi, Chief. How did Lucia take the news?” he asked.
“How do you think?” replied Shadow, removing the photo of Anna from his pocket and attaching it to one of the whiteboards. “What have you got to tell me?”
“Sophie has finished the post-mortem. She hasn’t written a full report yet, but she phoned through with the main points.” Jimmy consulted his electronic notebook and began to scroll through. “Anna didn’t have any drugs or alcohol in her system. No underlying health conditions. She’d been in the water for about twenty-four hours, which fits in with what we already know. She’d suffered a blow to the back of her skull, but no other injuries except for where the rope had been tied around her ankle. No signs of sexual assault. When she went into the water, she was alive but unconscious.”
“Have forensics been able to tell us anything about the rope and stone?” asked Shadow.
Jimmy shook his head. “Not yet, Chief. They are running a bit late. They went to hand over the wine they’d been testing to trading standards, who were in turn running late after going to collect the wine from Mr Prentis.”
Shadow sat down with a sigh. “I’d forgotten about that. How did it go?”
Jimmy pulled a face. “Not great, Chief. The poor guy staged a bit of a protest.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’d locked himself in the shed and had drunk a bottle and a half of wine by the time they got there. One of the trading standards guys called uniform out. They were worried Neville would hurt himself. They managed to get in and trading standards said they should still be able to test the empty bottle.”
“What about Mr Prentis?”
“He was crying quite a bit, then he was sick. The constable gave him some water and he seemed to sober up a bit. Poor guy. His wife’s bound to find out what he’s been up to now.”
“It sounds like quite an eventful morning,” replied Shadow. “Get in touch with Ben and Ollie to try to get them to hurry up with the rope and stone. We’ll all have to leave this business with the wine to trading standards now. Besides, with any luck, Luca will be able to tell us if there is anything we need to know when he arrives and looks at the bottle we took from Neville.”
“You must be looking forward to seeing him after all this time, Chief.”
Shadow was saved from having to answer by Jimmy’s phone bleeping.
“Anything useful, Sergeant?”
“Yes, I contacted La Maison du Fleuve, the hotel where David Smith was found and where Anna worked. I told them what had happened to her. She worked there every night except Sundays but had asked to change her shift on Monday night. They said they would call in the night manager so we could speak to him.”
“Good. When?”
“He’s there now, Chief.”
“Then let’s head over there. By the way, Lucia said Anna was worried about something. She thought someone might have committed a crime and said she wanted to speak to me. That’s why she changed her shift to Monday night. Unfortunately, it was too late. Lucia also confirmed Anna was the cleaner at La Dolce Vita.”
“So do you think Ingham and Woodhouse are involved in all this?”
Shadow shook his head. “I really don’t know. At the moment, the more information we receive the less clear everything becomes.”
*
It was beginning to snow as they arrived at the Maison du Fleuve hotel. The hotel was a large concrete and glass structure, situated on the opposite side of the river to Shadow’s office in the medieval Guildhall. It had been built in the 1980s to house the offices of one of the many insurance companies that made York their home. Recently, it had been turned into a chic boutique hotel. The locals joked that it should be called the Maison du Flood due to its proximity to the river. However, it had proved to be very popular with the city’s young and fashionable visitors, due partly to its large rooftop bar that provided guests with a long cocktail list and incredible views.
The two detectives stepped into the hotel reception. It was dimly lit and decorated in various hues of grey and white with glass and polished cement flooring and furniture. The centre of the room was dominated by a huge black and silver Christmas tree. Shadow didn’t think it looked remotely festive. There was also hip-hop music playing in the background that Jimmy immediately started nodding his head in time to as they waited for a group of Chinese tourists to check in.
When they had finished, the elegant young lady in the smart black trouser suit behind the reception desk turned her attention to Shadow and Jimmy, but her bright smile soon disappeared when the two detectives introduced themselves. She quickly ushered them through a door marked “private – staff only” and away from some more guests who were waiting to check out. They followed her down a long corridor.
“Did you know Anna Novak?” asked Jimmy.
“No,” she replied bluntly. “We never worked together.”
A few seconds later, she came to a halt outside a door marked “Night Manager”.
“Craig Philips, our night manager, is waiting for you in his office,” she said in hushed tones. “This is the key for the penthouse, where Mr Smith was found. It has been deep-cleaned but we are still waiting for the carpet to be replaced before we can let another guest stay there,” she explained, handing a key with a velvet tassel to Jimmy, “and we would appreciate it if you could be as discreet as possible during your time at the Maison du Fleuve,” she finished with a tight smile.
Then she gave the office door a brisk knock, turned on her heel and marched back down the corridor as a voice from behind the door called out, “Yes?”
Shadow and Jimmy stepped inside and found the night manager slumped at his desk in the small, untidy office. He was in his thirties, unshaven, with hollow eyes, and he didn’t bother standing up when the two detectives entered the room.
“If this is about that bloke who hit his head and died, you’re wasting your time,” he said before Shadow even had chance to open his mouth. “I can’t be held responsible for every idiot who goes and falls over.”
“It wasn’t only Mr Smith’s death we wanted to discuss with you, Mr Philips. We also wanted to speak to you about Anna Novak.”
The night manager exhaled slowly and Shadow thought he caught a faint whiff of whisky.
“Yes, I heard about that. It’s a shame. She was a nice girl and a real looker too. The waiters and all the guys in the kitchen tried it on with her, a few of the guests as well, but she wasn’t interested. Said she had a boyfriend, not that we ever saw her with anyone.”
