Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(69)

The fingers twisted. ‘Not mine.’ She frowned. ‘But, who . . . ?’

‘Mr Broome, maybe?’ Rosie maintained a calm, even tone.

‘It must have been, mustn’t it?’ She pushed it back towards them.

‘Or a friend, maybe?’ Marie asked.

‘I . . . I’m not sure.’

Marie bit her lip, and saw the doctor’s sharp eyes on her.

‘Careful,’ mouthed Mason. ‘Don’t push her.’

She looked at the mousy woman more closely. She wasn’t nearly as old as she looked. She was very thin, fine-boned, with almost porcelain-like skin, but there was something about those sad eyes that said she was not as fragile as she made out. Suddenly Marie decided on a different tack.

‘Micah Lee is missing, Miss Sewell. He’s disappeared.’

The fluttering hands flew to her mouth. She gave a little gasp, and Dr Mason found his voice. ‘DS Evans, can I have a word, please? Outside.’

Exactly what Marie had hoped for. As Marie stood up and accompanied the doctor outside, Rosie remained quietly seated with Elizabeth. She would get the chance to observe Elizabeth’s honest reaction to Marie’s statement.

Marie listened to the doctor admonishing her, but watched through the window from the corner of her eye. She saw Rosie’s lips move, smile. Marie could also see that she was indeed getting a response. With only the nurse and the “pretty girl” in attendance, Elizabeth Sewell obviously felt less threatened. Marie decided to dispute the doctor’s objection to her tone and extend her expulsion from the room a little longer.

She drew out their “chat” for five minutes, until the doctor gave her permission to go back in for a short while longer. Marie asked about the tunnels. But this time she saw no comprehension at all. Elizabeth said that she had never heard Mr Broome speak of tunnels or underground rooms at Windrush. She’d been there several times with him, but never alone.

Marie placed the evidence bag back on Elizabeth’s lap, and raised her eyebrows. ‘Any more thoughts on this?’

‘Philip!’ she said suddenly. ‘They were for the cages for some of the animals at his veterinary surgery — the unlucky ones.’

Marie’s head spun. Philip? Philip Groves? ‘How do you know Philip the vet?’

‘I work for him.’ For the first time she really smiled. ‘Only as a volunteer, of course. I love animals. I’ve been helping out there in my spare time for years.’

‘And you wrote these for Philip Groves?’ Marie pointed to the cards.

‘I’m not sure,’ she murmured. ‘I thought his labels had names like Fluffy, and Rocky on them. And little pictures of bones and paw prints? Oh dear, maybe I’m getting confused.’ Her hands began to twist again.

‘I think that’s enough now.’ Dr Mason stood up. Marie felt like screaming with frustration.

The two detectives thanked Elizabeth and they left.

As they waited for their escort, Rosie said softly, ‘Guess who I remind her of?’

Marie raised an eyebrow. ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer?’

‘Very droll, Sarge. No, I remind her of someone called Fleur.’

‘The oldest victim!’ Marie breathed. ‘So what’s the connection between the first girl to die and Elizabeth Sewell?’

‘I’m not sure, but she was pretty annoyed with herself for having told me. I asked her who Fleur was and she clammed up, went on to talk about Micah.’

‘What did she say about him?’

‘She’s desperate we find him. And she said something rather odd.’ Rosie frowned. ‘She said that you and I should leave him to the men to sort out.’

‘Meaning what, I wonder?’

‘Well, I reckon she’s meaning he is a danger to women.’

‘That’s not exactly news. I should think Micah is a danger to anyone.’

Rosie lowered her voice as the escort arrived. ‘I don’t think that’s what she meant. I’m certain she was warning me.’

Outside in the fresh air, Marie unlocked the car and flung her handbag onto the back seat. ‘Right, back to the station, Rosie, and your first job is to check Philip Groves’ vet practice. See if the “unlucky ones” get nice little name cards with paw prints on them, courtesy of kindly voluntary worker, Elizabeth Sewell.’

‘Will do, Sarge. And what then?’

‘I’m even more anxious to discover all we can about Fleur. Her connection to Elizabeth puzzles me, and it could be a major lead if we can identify her. Pitch in with Max on that one.’

As they crawled slowly through the town-centre traffic, Marie asked Rosie what she thought about Elizabeth.

‘I get the impression that she’s genuinely confused, which bothers her. Her confusion is probably caused by all the drugs she’s on, but I cannot see her being involved in anything as hideous as the killings. I’m also certain that she’d remain loyal to Benedict Broome with her dying breath, if necessary. She might be a fruit loop, but I swear she’s not deliberately lying.’

This was pretty much what Marie had thought. But the urgent need to find the killer left her with little patience for playing guessing games. ‘If she needs interviewing again, Rosie, I suggest you go alone. I think you’ll get more from her.’