A Silent Truth, page 12
‘A couple of weeks ago.’
‘Here?’
‘Yes. She had an afternoon appointment on… hang on.’ He swivelled his chair around to face his computer and moused across the screen. ‘Thursday before last, three o’clock in the afternoon.’
‘What exactly was your relationship with Sonya?’ said Mark.
‘There was no relationship. Sonya was a client, that’s all.’
‘What sort of services did she pay for?’ Jan said. ‘Counselling?’
‘Not at all.’ Creasey gave a benevolent smile, gesturing to the certificates lining the wall. ‘Although I hold a degree in psychology, I offer clients a range of services to better equip them for their individual circumstances. Mindfulness, breathing techniques… I’m a qualified sports coach and nutritionist as well, so I hope to offer people a whole life package to benefit their day-to-day lives and wellbeing. It helps them both physically and mentally. I also offer assistance with different addictions – gambling, alcohol, that sort of thing.’
‘Anyone else work with you?’ said Mark, pausing to lift one of the heavy psychology tomes from the desk and weighing it in his hand.
‘It’s just me. If I’m very busy with referrals from local GP surgeries I use a telephone answering service and a virtual assistant for general email enquiries but both of those are remote working arrangements.’ Creasey leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under the movement. ‘It’s cheaper for a start, but allows me peace and quiet here in between seeing my clients. I don’t like to be disturbed while I’m meditating on a particular problem or issue.’
‘So what were you helping Sonya with?’
‘That’s confidential, and between me and my client, detective – you know that.’
‘Your client is dead, Mr Creasey,’ Mark snapped. ‘Found dumped on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere with her head caved in. We’re trying to find out who did that to her.’
‘I know.’ The other man held up his hands. ‘I’m sorry. I tend to be very protective of my clients’ privacy.’
Mark said nothing, and waited while Creasey tapped a few buttons on his keyboard before sighing under his breath.
‘Here we are. I last spoke to Sonya almost two weeks ago, like I said. At the time she was suffering from anxiety-related issues, something for which I’d treated her before a year, or so ago. We did some breathing exercises, and I consulted her about lowering her alcohol intake and some other minor diet changes to help with her insomnia.’
‘Did she seem scared about anything at the time?’ Jan asked.
Creasey frowned. ‘No, not that. Anxious, definitely. When I asked her what she thought the cause of that might be, she declined to say.’
‘Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of coming here?’ said Mark.
‘Getting someone to share their innermost fears takes time, detective,’ Creasey scolded. ‘And like some of the other creative types I’ve worked with over the years, it only takes a minor setback to knock their confidence. Sonya was no different.’
‘Were you aware that she was involved in a series of burglaries around Wantage and Stanford in the Vale?’
‘Sonya? Christ, no. Are you sure?’
‘We’ve had her identity confirmed by more than one of the victims.’
‘Jesus.’ Creasey blinked. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Did she say why she stopped playing viola all of a sudden?’
‘No. I never got to the bottom of that.’
‘It’s been inferred that she lost interest after meeting you.’
‘By whom?’ Creasey’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s outrageous.’
‘You’re absolutely sure there was nothing more between you than professional interest?’
‘Of course I’m sure. I have a business to run here. A reputation to protect––’
‘And yet before Sonya cut short her music career, you were seen with her at a couple of her concerts.’ Mark raised an eyebrow. ‘Did that fall under your professional remit as well?’
Exasperated, Creasey pushed back his chair and crossed to the bay window, his hands on his hips. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, dangerous.
‘Detective, I take the wellbeing of my clients very seriously. I only went to two concerts at Sonya’s invitation. I enjoy classical music, and she was quite insistent.’ He turned to face them, his eyes boring into Mark’s. ‘I never took advantage of her sexually, and I resent you walking in here trying to undermine everything I’ve achieved.’
‘Where were you between the hours of half six and half eleven last Tuesday?’
‘I was here all day with appointments and then left at six. I met friends for dinner here in Abingdon. We went to a little Italian place off Ock Street to celebrate a birthday, and we stayed until eleven. After that, we went back to theirs for coffee because my first appointment on Wednesday wasn’t until ten o’clock.’ He pulled a mobile phone from his pocket. ‘And you can have their phone numbers because I know you’re going to ask anyway. Was there anything else?’
‘That’s all for now.’ Mark dropped one of his business cards onto the desk as Jan snapped her notebook closed. ‘Give me a call if you think of anything that might help us.’
Creasey remained standing beside the window. ‘You can see yourselves out.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Mark dropped his notebook next to his computer keyboard, then walked across the incident room to Kennedy’s office and rapped his knuckles against the open door.
‘Got a minute, guv?’
The DI looked up from a collection of reports strewn across his desk, removed his reading glasses and rubbed his temples. ‘Anything to get me away from these personnel forecasts. How’d you get on with Creasey?’
‘He confirms he saw Sonya a couple of weeks ago for an appointment, and says he hadn’t seen her since then. He did seem genuinely shocked that she was dead.’ Mark pulled out one of the visitor chairs and sat, frowning at the paperwork Kennedy was scooping up. ‘That’s not our investigation, is it?’
‘No – summer rosters. We can still expect a full contingent on this one for at least a few more days.’
‘That doesn’t make me feel better.’
Kennedy gave a grim smile and shoved the documentation into a manila folder before tossing it onto a pile in his in-tray. ‘It is what it is. Was Creasey able to shed any light on Sonya’s involvement in the burglaries?’
‘No, and he seemed taken aback at that.’ Mark wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t think it came up in the counselling sessions he’d had with her. He came across as a bit too smooth for my liking though, and I’m sure he had feelings for her – he tried his best to deny it, but Jan picked up on the way he spoke about her too, and there’s the business of him going along to her concerts. That’s stretching the counsellor-patient relationship a bit far in my view.’
‘Alibis?’
‘They check out for the Tuesday evening.’
Kennedy drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘Unless he dumped her on the roadside before going out to dinner.’
Mark exhaled. ‘If he had, then surely Graham Tiegler would’ve spotted her on his way home from that garden party he finished playing late Tuesday evening.’
‘Not if he was three sheets to the wind rather than the two drinks he says he had.’
The DI looked up at another knock against the glass panelling of the door, and Mark twisted in his seat to see Alex hovering at the threshold.
‘Which one of us were you after?’ Kennedy asked.
‘Both of you, actually.’ Alex remained where he was until the DI pointed to the seat next to Mark, then scurried over and cleared his throat. ‘It might be nothing, but…’
‘Spit it out,’ Mark said, and smiled. ‘Knowing you, it’s not nothing.’
‘I was reading through the email Caroline circulated with the details from the optician’s place in Wantage, and – I don’t know – I guess I just wanted to know more, so I phoned up and asked them if any of our burglary victims were customers of his as well.’
Kennedy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. ‘Why?’
‘I was struggling to find a connection between Sonya – Maria, whatever her name is – and all the burglary victims. We still don’t know how she selected them, so I thought I’d go back to one of our earlier theories that she must’ve overheard them giving their address out to someone somewhere.’ Alex jerked his thumb towards Mark. ‘We thought maybe GP surgeries, pharmacies, places like that where you’re often asked to confirm your address.’
‘Okay. Go on.’
‘So I figured opticians would fall under that theory as well. I just got a call back from the one who gave us Sonya’s alias to say he does recognise one of the names – Sally Fernsby.’
Kennedy straightened. ‘Good work. How does it tie in with the burglary side of things?’
‘I’m not sure yet. When Sonya coerced her way into Sally’s house she was posing as a concerned social worker regarding her five-year-old daughter’s health – her accomplice got upstairs and stole jewellery and some cash Sally kept for emergencies. She was distraught.’
‘I know she’s dead, but that’s a disgusting thing to do,’ said Kennedy.
‘It’s how they targeted a few of the single parents on our list.’ Mark shook his head. ‘Sally was one of too many.’
‘Where does Sally live?’
‘On the outskirts of Grove, down one of the older lanes,’ said Mark. ‘She was burgled back in January. Absolutely terrified by the experience – by the time the patrol reached her, she already had a locksmith there replacing all the front and back door locks and adding more to the downstairs windows.’
‘Poor woman.’ Kennedy’s gaze moved to the clock on the wall above his filing cabinets. ‘Get yourself over there in the morning, Mark, and have another word with her. Find out how long she’d been going to that optician’s, and whether she’d seen Sonya anywhere else before that. Somewhere along the line, we’re going to find her accomplice.’
‘Will do, guv.’ Mark pushed back his chair and rolled up his sleeves. ‘And when I do, I’m going to make sure he pays.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The next morning, Jan walked up a stone path towards a neat end of terrace cottage.
She swerved past an overturned plastic play table then a box-shaped sandpit that had been dug into the corner of the lawn, a faint smell of cat piss wafting towards her.
Wrinkling her nose, she peered up at the pebble-dashed fascia, eyed the curtain twitch at the uppermost window, then turned to Turpin.
‘When were you last here?’
‘Back in February. A few weeks after the burglary when Alex and I started linking the cases together.’ He reached out and pressed the bell to the right of the front door and lowered his voice. ‘Sally lost her two-year-old daughter just before Christmas. Leukaemia. Her husband walked out three months before that – he couldn’t take the impending loss by the sound of it, and left her to face it alone, which is why she’s reverted to her maiden name. She was burgled – by Sonya – in January. She, or her accomplice anyway, stole a watch and two gold necklaces, as well as a diamond ring that belonged to Sally’s grandmother.’
‘Jesus, the poor woman.’ Jan exhaled, her chest still tight as the door opened.
A woman in her late twenties with her hair scrunched up in a messy ponytail gave Turpin a wan stare.
‘Caught them yet?’ she said.
‘There’s been some progress,’ Turpin replied.
The woman emitted a scornful snort in response.
‘Could we come in, please, Ms Fernsby? My colleague, DC Jan West, and I have some questions we’d like to ask.’
Sally pushed open the door and turned away, not waiting to see if they followed. ‘I’ve just dropped off Charlotte at school, so I’m about to go and catch up with friends at the market.’
‘This won’t take long.’ Turpin waved Jan ahead of him, shutting the door behind her then following Sally into a tiny kitchen at the back of the cottage.
Jan could smell remnants of porridge and something sweeter in the stuffy room, the aroma mingling with coffee as the other woman picked up a mug with a child’s wobbly drawing printed on the side and took it over to a battered pine fold-out table in the corner.
Pulling out her notebook, Jan wandered over and pulled out a seat beside her while Turpin leaned against the worktop. ‘Sally – can I call you Sally? – we haven’t met before but I’m helping Detective Turpin with his investigation.’
‘I hope you’re having better luck,’ the woman mumbled, then took a sip.
‘Do you wear glasses?’
The mug was set down on the table with a sharp smack. ‘What?’
‘Tell me about the optician’s in Wantage. How long have you been registered there?’
‘Only recently. I was getting headaches occasionally so I thought I’d better have my eyes tested.’
‘When was that?’
‘Um, March I think.’
Jan frowned. ‘Not earlier in the year?’
‘No. Why?’
Turpin stepped forward. ‘One of the theories we’re following up is that the people who targeted you in January might’ve overheard you give out your address somewhere, such as a pharmacy, or a GP surgery perhaps. Yesterday, we got a positive identification for a woman found dead by the side of the road not too far from here. It’s the same woman who was involved in a spate of burglaries similar to yours…’
‘I heard about a woman’s body being found.’ Sally shivered. ‘But I don’t––’
‘We received one of the positive identifications from her optician here in Wantage. The same optician you registered with.’ Mark’s voice softened. ‘Except that doesn’t fit in with our theory about how she got your address in the first place to target you in January, because you’ve just told us you registered with that optician in March. After you were burgled.’
Jan waited, watching while the woman’s jaw worked, her eyes downcast as she tapped her fingernails against the side of the china mug.
‘How did you know her?’ she said gently.
‘What’s happened to her?’ Sally looked from her to Turpin.
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ said Jan.
‘Jesus.’ Sally paled. ‘I… I don’t know her. Didn’t know her, I mean. I… I just followed her.’
‘When?’
‘In March. Like I said, I try to catch up with a couple of friends at the market – it gets me out of the house every week, otherwise I’m just sitting around here.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘Apparently, that’s not good for me even though I work most of the time.’
‘What do you do?’
‘I’m an executive assistant for a real estate company, just online these days. You know, virtually.’
‘So, going back to the day you followed her.’
‘What’s her name?’
Jan’s gaze flicked to Turpin’s before answering, and he gave a slight nod. ‘We’ve got two names for her. Sonya Raynott and Marie Allenton.’
‘Oh.’ Sally raised the mug to her lips, her hand shaking. After taking another sip, she slumped in her chair. ‘I recognised her. I’d just said goodbye to Michelle, one of my friends, next to the King Alfred statue and was about to cross the road when I saw her walking along the pavement on the other side. A bus was pulling in at the stop, and she looked up at the number on the windscreen. That’s when I saw her face. She must’ve been wearing a wig or something though, because her hair looked too dark for her features. She turned away, and I… I don’t know, I just wanted to see what she did. She was in a hurry, as if she was late for something so like I said, I followed her.’
‘Where did she go?’
‘She left the marketplace, then went into the optician’s place round the corner.’ Sally pushed the empty coffee mug away, her eyes downcast. ‘It was just so fucking normal. After everything she did, after she took…’
She broke off, tears cascading over her cheeks.
Jan waited while the woman composed herself.
Sally sniffed, wiping at her tears with the sleeve of her sweater, then reached across and tore a sheet from a roll of kitchen towel. After blowing her nose, she forced a bitter smile.
‘God knows what I was thinking, but I gave it a couple of minutes then crept past and looked through the window. She was sitting in one of the chairs, waiting to see the optician I guess.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I kept going, then after another five minutes I circled back and went inside.’ Sally pushed back her chair and lobbed the tissue in the kitchen bin. ‘She wasn’t there anymore but I wanted to see if she recognised me. I wanted… I don’t know what I wanted. Of course, by then the two women working behind the reception counter were all over me, asking how they could help, and I ended up paying for an eye test I didn’t really need. That’s how you linked me to her, isn’t it?’
Jan nodded. ‘Sally, we have to ask this. Where were you between the hours of half past six and ten-thirty last Tuesday night?’
The woman’s jaw dropped. ‘Why? Do you think I killed her?’
‘Can you tell us where you were?’ Turpin said.
‘I was here. With Charlotte. My mum came over and stayed the night – Dad was off on a fishing trip with a couple of his mates so we watched a film after Charlotte went to bed.’
‘We’ll need her number,’ said Jan.
‘For goodness sakes.’ Sally crossed the kitchen to the table and snatched up a mobile phone. ‘Don’t you have any sympathy for me as a victim?’
‘We do,’ said Turpin calmly. ‘And I do want to see someone brought to justice for what happened to you but until we find out what happened to her, and who killed her, we can’t find her accomplice. The man who stole your jewellery and everything else while she kept you distracted.’
Sally’s shoulders dropped. ‘I know. It’s just…’
‘You’ve been through a horrible experience after everything that’s already happened to you,’ said Jan, ‘and you’ve every right to be angry.’
