Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(73)

She couldn’t choose her dates. She’d had to be ready at a moment’s standby. She was going to have the lot – lipo, breast enlargement, tummy tuck – and then stay in a five star hotel to recover. She had been asked a series of really weird questions: next-of-kin shit . . . she’d put Ebony down as she didn’t know who else to put. But she had won!! She who never won anything. If she was honest it was a little odd: the wording, the secrecy, but then she didn’t want everyone and his brother knowing she was going for some work. She had to call in sick. They wouldn’t mind. She often had migraines. They would think it was that. After a few days she’d ask them to give her a week’s holiday as well. That should cover it. She’d be back in time for Christmas. Ebony had promised they’d do nothing all day except sit wrapped in their duvets and watch telly and eat. Tina was going to do the cooking. She’d already tried Ebony’s food. There was no way she was going to let Ebony cook. It would be beans on toast for Christmas dinner otherwise. She was looking forward to it a lot. And now . . . she would just fly back two weeks later a new woman.

She could smell the fish and chips. Her pace quickened. Feck, the wine was heavy. She would get in the door, take off her makeup, get into her nan’s dressing gown and start making a list of what she should pack.

She hoped Ebony was at home. She was just longing to tell someone.





Chapter 47


Ebony got into the detective’s car next to Carter just as his phone rang.

‘Yes, Robbo?’ Carter answered.

‘Your visit to the de Langes’ will have to wait. We have a match for the Arsenal shirt. Alex Tapp, a fourteen year old, went missing four weeks ago, early November, at an Arsenal match.’

‘Text me the address, Robbo; we’ll go straight there.’

Carter knocked on the door. Ebony looked up the quiet street; across the road a curtain twitched. It was a long street of semi-detached houses one side, terraced the other.

A woman answered the door. She was in her mid-forties, wearing a long skirt and baggy jumper.

‘Mrs Tapp? Helen?’ Carter showed his warrant card.

‘Have you found him?’ Her eyes glued to Carter’s face. She didn’t look at his badge.

‘Not yet . . . but can we come in please? My name is Detective Sergeant Dan Carter and this is Detective Constable Ebony Willis. Please call us Dan and Ebony. Is it all right if we call you Helen?’

She nodded as she looked hard at them for a few seconds, trying to read their expressions. A small child came to stare up at Carter and hold onto his mother’s leg.

Ebony smiled at the child. He smiled back.

‘Of course, sorry . . . out the way, Alfie . . .’ She picked up the child and put him on her hip then stood back to allow them to pass.

‘We won’t keep you long; we just need to ask you some more questions and we need to get some DNA swabs from you and your husband if you don’t mind.’

‘I’m sorry my husband isn’t here.’

They followed her into the kitchen. She put Alfie down and sat at the table. She looked exhausted. She rubbed her face with her hands. Her fingers tugged at her face, pulled down her baggy lower eyelids and revealed crimson rims. Alfie was clingy as he pulled at her skirt and tried to climb onto her lap. She picked him up and sat him facing the table. He was desperate to play. His fat dimpled hands grabbed at anything his mother didn’t move away fast enough. ‘DNA?’ She was thinking over what it could mean.

Ebony took a test out of her bag. She cleaned her hands with an antibacterial wipe and put a pair of gloves on then opened the envelope marked ‘Helen Tapp’ and took out the swab. She peeled it back from the stick end.

‘I just need to wipe the cotton bud end of the stick around the inside of your cheek if that’s okay, Helen?’ She nodded and opened her mouth ready. Alfie stared up at her. Ebony rubbed the inside of Helen Tapp’s cheek for a minute.

‘We found a piece of his Arsenal shirt, Helen.’

Helen Tapp fought back the tears as she shook her head, relieved.

‘You haven’t found his body?’

Ebony shook her head. ‘No. We have not. It’s a possibility that he’s being held against his will. There’s still hope, Helen.’

‘Where did you find the shirt?’

Ebony looked at Carter for reassurance. He nodded.

‘We found it at a house in Totteridge.’

‘The one on the news? Where people had been murdered?’

Ebony nodded.

‘Oh God. How did he end up there? Why him?’

Carter answered: ‘We are working on several theories and new leads at the moment, Helen.’

‘Can we please go through the details with you? I appreciate that you’ve talked to officers before but not to us.’

She nodded and blew her nose. Alfie had turned right round and was watching his mum anxiously. He had picked up the signs, knew the quivers in her voice, the descent into tears, knew they meant a cuddle was needed. He snuggled into her and she wrapped her arms around him.

‘Alex went to see Arsenal play.’

‘Does he do that often?’

She shook her head. ‘No. It was his birthday. He wanted to take his friend Aaron. My husband went with them on the Underground and then he had arranged to meet them after the game and bring them home. When he got to the Tube station to wait for the boys, only Aaron showed up. He said Alex went to the toilet at half time and didn’t come back to see the second half. Aaron had phoned his mobile but it was dead.’