Cold as Ice (Willis/Carter #2)(47)

For a moment it looked as if Gerald Foster was about to say no but then he turned and walked over to the bonfire.

Carter followed.

‘Funny time to be burning stuff? Isn’t that ground a bit wet?’ Foster shrugged. He carried on past the bonfire and through into the utility room and kitchen at the back of the house. The kitchen table was covered with newspaper and tools being cleaned. Foster unscrewed a chain-saw that was secured in a vice screwed to the edge of a worktop and blew onto the newly sharpened chain blade. Christ, thought Carter – this is what happened to some men when there was no woman around. Foster had turned his house into a tool shed. ‘You’re having a tidy-up?’ Carter looked around the kitchen. There were large pieces of antique-looking mechanical equipment on newspaper. There was a wooden box under repair, its hinges hanging out, its broken lid resting on top of it.

Foster shrugged and turned his back to Carter while he washed his hands in the kitchen sink.

‘I’m very busy as you can see.’ He picked up a dirty towel from beside the sink and wiped his hands.

‘What’s all this stuff? You repair antiques? Looks like you have a lot on here.’ Carter knelt down to look at a piece of old machinery that looked like a pump.

‘It’s a hobby.’ Foster glared at Carter. ‘What’s this about?’ Foster’s voice was surprisingly soft for such a gruff-looking man, thought Carter. He looked nervous. He definitely wasn’t comfortable with visitors.

‘It’s about your daughter Danielle. She’s gone missing.’ Foster stared blankly at Carter for a few seconds then he shook his head and turned away, irritated. ‘We’re very concerned about her welfare. We think she’s been abducted.’

‘Whatever trouble she’s in she brought it on herself.’ Foster picked up a pair of shears from the kitchen table and began sharpening one of the blades on an oiled stone. ‘I haven’t seen her in two years. Don’t want to either. I’m finished with her – I’ve done my bit. Brought her up as best I could.’

‘Bit if a handful, was she?’ Carter nodded sympathetically at Foster. He didn’t answer; he continued sharpening the blade.

‘You could say that. She caused my wife’s death; she brought it on with all her shenanigans.’ He turned to look at Carter and make sure he understood. ‘She was never any good. I could see it as she grew. She had that look about her. Nothing but trouble and then she got herself pregnant and I told my wife not to have anything to do with her but she felt sorry for the little boy. Poor blighter.’ Foster lifted his eyes and looked at Carter.

‘I don’t know what he’s capable of. Not much, I don’t expect. He’s disabled. You seen him?’

‘Yes I saw him. He’s a sweet little kid. He’s in shock. He was left alone overnight.’

‘He’ll soon forget. He’s going to be better off without her, that’s for sure.’ He picked up some bits of debris and threw them angrily into the bin. Then he turned back to Carter. ‘Marion saw them despite my wishes. I told her not to but she disobeyed me and look where it got her. It put her in an early grave. If someone has taken that girl, good luck to them. They’ve done the world a favour. She’s never been any good to anyone.’ He paused and looked up from his sharpening. ‘The boy’s better off without her. What’s happened to him now?’

‘He’s with Danielle’s birth mother, Tracy.’

Foster looked away and shook his head with a cynical smile on his face. ‘What’s she like, Danielle’s birth mother? Rough, I expect?’

Carter shook his head. ‘Not at all – she’s a nice woman: hard-working, respectable. So you haven’t seen Danielle for some time?’

‘Not since the funeral. I didn’t want her at that but she turned up and I didn’t want to make a scene. Marion wouldn’t have wanted that. Marion was nothing but goodness. A saint to put up with the things she did. A wonderful woman who deserved better than the treatment she got from her own daughter. Well, adopted daughter. I never used to think there was a difference – I do now. I think of her as a cuckoo in our nest. All she did was take – bled us dry.’

‘I understand what you’re saying, Mr Foster. I know it’s not easy. I came from a big family – fallouts are an everyday thing, but you might want to keep the door open on Danielle and your grandson. She was trying her best to put her life in order. She had enrolled in evening classes, she was living in a new place with Jackson. She was trying to make a go of things.’

‘Oh I know she was attending classes. She told me.’

‘So she did contact you recently. I thought you said she hadn’t?’

‘I said I hadn’t seen her. She rung up six months ago, said it was to see how I was. But she always has an angle. She got to it in the end. She asked me for the details about her birth mother. I gave them to her. It was no skin off my nose. Typical – now that she can’t tap my wife for money she’s trying to get it out of some other poor sap. Good luck to them both.’

Carter watched as Gerald started sharpening the other side of the shears.

‘Do you work, Mr Foster?’

‘I’m a London guide. I take people on guided walks around the city and the surrounds. I’m working this afternoon.’ He looked at Carter as if to say – so hurry up.