Written In Blood

9-2

MELISSA HEARD MITCHELL’S shout and listened for some indication that the house’s occupants had too – it didn’t take long. Within moments of Mitchell’s second shout, she heard thunderous footsteps approach the back door. She tensed, one hand on her extendible baton, while she waited for the door she was standing at the side of to open; it did so with a bang and Melissa pushed away from the wall.

Tom Bottle and Simon Deacon got themselves jammed, momentarily, in the doorway, as they both tried to exit the house at the same time. When they freed themselves, they burst into the garden, straight into the leg that Melissa stuck out to trip them up; they went down in a tangled heap of arms and legs that made them look like some weird, many-limbed creature.

“Morning, boys,” Melissa said cheerfully. “I guess you didn’t hear Sergeant Mitchell. We only want to talk to you, so there’s no reason for you to be running off anywhere.”

“Since when have you guys ever only wanted to talk to us?” Tom Bottle wanted to know as he extricated himself from his friend. “You always think we’ve done summat. Well, we ain’t done nowt, so you can bugger off and look elsewhere for whoever did whatever’s been done.”

“If you’ve done nothing wrong, why were you running?” Melissa asked, though she didn’t give either of the two men a chance to respond. “Come on, on your feet and back inside. If you cooperate, and don’t give us any hassle, you’ll both be back in bed before you know it,” she told them. “Where’s Oliver?” she asked as she shepherded Simon and Tom back into the house. “He’s normally the first one through the door.”

“He’s not here,” Simon said.

“Where is he?”

“He’s out.”

“I gathered that, where?”

“What’s it matter?”

Melissa didn’t bother answering, instead she headed for the front door, after seeing Simon and Tom into the living room, so she could let Mitchell in.

“Good work, Melissa,” Mitchell said when he saw the two in the living room. “But where’s Oliver? Don’t tell me you let him get away.”

“There was no sign of him,” Melissa said, a little offended by her superior’s suggestion. “He didn’t try and make a run for it, like these two.”

“Where’s Oliver?” Mitchell asked of Simon and Tom as he crossed to the stained armchair opposite the sofa they were on, where he reluctantly sat.

“Not here,” Tom answered, with an abruptness that suggested it was all he was going to say.

Mitchell got the impression Tom was not about to reveal where his friend was, he had to ask though. “Okay, so where is he?” As he did so he signalled to Melissa that she should make a search of the upstairs, in case Tom was lying, which was likely. “If he’s not home, where is he?”

“Not here,” Simon said in a frustrated voice. “Tom told you.” He followed Melissa with his eyes as she left the room and started up the stairs.

“He didn’t say where, though,” Mitchell pointed out. “And don’t try and tell me you don’t know where he is, it won’t wash.”

Tom scowled at his friend, but it didn’t stop Simon, who was the weaker of the pair, answering. “He’s at work.”

“Work? Do you take me for an i***t?” Mitchell asked. “Oliver hasn’t done a day’s work in his life, not honest work anyway. Where is he really? Somewhere he shouldn’t be, I’ll be bound.”

“I told you, he’s at...” Simon’s insistent words were interrupted by the return of Melissa, who shook her head briefly to indicate that she had not found Oliver Ryder during her quick search of the three bedrooms and one bathroom. “Work,” he finished. “See, if I was gonna make something up, don’t you think I’d come up with something better?”

Mitchell could hardly deny that; Simon was not the most creative of liars, but he was capable of coming up with something more believable than Oliver being at work.

“If Oliver has a job now, where’s he working, and what prompted him to turn away from a life of crime? Assuming he has. He’s never showed the slightest inclination to do anything legit before.”

Tom scowled at Simon again, but then went on to answer the question himself. “He’s working at the golf course, training to be a gardener or something,” he said. “Georgie talked him into it. You know what Ollie’s like when it comes to Georgie, he’ll do anything for her. She told him he needed to straighten up and get a job, then she saw the job at the golf course and got him to apply for it.

“What’re you doing here anyway, we ain’t done nothing.”

Mitchell couldn’t help but snort at that. “I’m sure that’s a lie; if it’s not, it’d be the first time in history. That’s not why I’m here now, though. I need to speak to Oliver. Since he isn’t here, I’ll talk to the two of you. When’s the last time either of you saw Georgina?”

“What the hell,” Tom said angrily after his momentary surprise had passed. “You’ve dragged us out o’ bed, she’s tripped us up, and all because you wanna ask us ‘bout Georgie. You already asked us ‘bout her last week; you know when we last saw ‘er.”

“I know what you told me at the beginning of the week, but I’m hoping you’ll have remembered something fresh that will help us, especially given this morning’s discovery.”

“What discovery?” Simon asked.

“I guess you two wouldn’t know, since you’ve both been asleep,” Mitchell remarked. “Not that I suppose anyone would have called you anyway, given that neither of you is all that popular. Early this morning, the body of a young girl was found by the river, it looks like it’s Georgina.” The reaction he got was just what he might have anticipated.

“Bloody hell! No way! You sure?” The exclamations and questions came tumbling from the lips of Tom and Simon in unison, falling over one another.

Mitchell waited until the two had calmed down, and were no longer urgently denying any knowledge of the death, to say anything more. “We’re as sure as we can be at this time,” he told them. “Now, I need you both to tell me everything you can remember about the last time you saw Georgina. I don’t believe either of you had anything to do with her death,” he said loudly and quickly to make himself heard over the protestations of innocence.

“Sit down and shut up,” Melissa finally shouted at the pair, who hovered somewhere between sitting and standing. “If you’d listen instead of making an unnecessary racket,” she said when they fell silent, “you’d have heard that we don’t think either of you had anything to do with what’s happened to Georgina, but we do need to know whatever you can tell us, so we can figure out what did happen.”

Mitchell was both surprised and pleased by the way Simon and Tom did exactly as Melissa told them. “Right, now you’re ready to listen, when did you last see Georgina?” he asked.

It was Simon who answered first. “Georgie was here last Friday, as we told you before,” he said. “Musta been ‘bout six, half-six, when she got here. It were a flying visit on her way to see Kieran, she said; that pissed Ollie off and he told her she should dump him – he’s always telling her to dump him. Georgie ignored him, like usual, and told him the house was a mess, that were normal as well. She washed the dishes in the sink, asked him ‘bout his job, and told him she’d be ‘round in the morning to clean up the house. She left after ‘bout twenty minutes. That’s the last I saw of her.”

“What about you, Tom?” Mitchell asked.

Tom shrugged. “Same. Haven’t seen her since then.”

“Has Oliver?” Mitchell wasn’t sure if either Tom or Simon would know whether their friend had seen or heard anything from his cousin, but he had to ask. “He’s not mentioned hearing from her?” he asked when both men shook their heads. “And I take it Georgina didn’t show up the next morning to clean the house.” From the appearance of the living room, which he was sure was representative of the house, the place hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time.

“No.” Simon shook his head. “She didn’t show up, and Ollie hasn’t heard from her. I know he’s tried calling and texting all week, but no luck. He’s not gonna like it when he hears how she’s been found.”

Mitchell didn’t need Simon to tell him that, he could easily imagine how Oliver was going to react – explosively would be understating it. It was just a question of who the explosion would be directed at, and that was something he didn’t fancy taking bets on, especially when he was one of the possible targets.

“Okay, so you can’t help us with Georgina; I assume you don’t know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her.” He couldn’t even bring himself to feign hopefulness as he waited for his answer. “When did you last see Lucy?”

“Lucy,” Simon groaned, though it was unclear why the question should have prompted such a reaction. “Whatever she’s done, we weren’t involved in it,” he said, hastening to distance himself from the teen’s troubles.

Tom was quicker on the uptake than Simon, he realised almost immediately that there was a connection between the discovery of the body that might be Georgina and the question about Lucy. “What’s happened to Lucy?” he asked, leaning forward to stare intently at Mitchell.

“We don’t yet know that anything’s happened to her,” Mitchell said. “But her mother has reported her missing. She hasn’t been home since she left for school yesterday morning.” He quickly held up a hand to forestall the barrage of comments he could see coming. “I know it’s far from unusual for Lucy to stay away from home for more than a day, and the chances are she’s just been out having fun and will turn up soon; after this morning’s discovery, though, I have to make enquiries. So I’ll ask again, when did you last see Lucy?”

“Thursday,” Tom answered. “She was here Thursday night, with Ollie.”

“So you didn’t see her yesterday?”

Both Tom and Simon shook their heads.