Blood Line Read online

  ‘It’d be almost eight weeks ago, the fifteenth of March. He called from the garage where he works and said he had a migraine. He knew I wasn’t due at work until later that day.’

  Tina explained that she ran a hair and beauty salon and on Mondays only ever did a half-day as she was open until late on Saturdays.

  ‘I drove to his garage and collected him. He often had these headaches and didn’t like to drive, so he left his car there and I brought him home. He said he just wanted to get into bed and draw the curtains, and I think he took some painkillers to help him sleep it off. When they came on, his headaches could last for hours, sometimes a couple of days. I wasn’t that bothered because he had had them before; I just made him a flask of tea so that if he felt like it, he could have a cup later. I put it on the bedside table; he had an ice-pack on his head and I said that I’d phone him in a while and see how he was. I got home just after six or maybe a bit later. I had tried his mobile a couple of times beforehand, but he didn’t answer. I just presumed he was sleeping it off.’

  Paul wrote copious notes as Anna listened, not interrupting as Tina went on to describe how, when she got home, the bedroom door was closed so she made herself a salad, not wanting to disturb him, and didn’t check on Alan until around eight o’clock. She said he wasn’t in the bed and she presumed that he had felt better and gone to collect his car from the garage. At around ten or ten-thirty she called his mobile again, but got no answer and left a message. She eventually went to bed and waited.

  ‘I must have fallen asleep because it was about three o’clock when I realised he had still not come home. I came in here, thinking that maybe he had slept on the sofa so he wouldn’t disturb me. I waited until around seven-thirty in the morning to call his work, but he was not there and the other mechanic who worked with Alan told me he hadn’t returned there or collected his car.’

  Paul lifted his pencil to indicate he had a couple of questions. He first asked if the bed had been remade when Tina had come home from work and she said that she thought the covers had just been put back, but it wasn’t exactly made up. He then asked for the name, contact address and phone numbers of the mechanic and the garage Alan worked for.

  ‘Stanley Fairfax owns the garage but he’s never there, and the sort of head mechanic’s name is Joe, although I’m not sure of his surname.’

  Tina gave the phone numbers and Paul wrote them down as Anna looked around the rather bare room. Tina told them how she had contacted Alan’s father to ask if Alan had gone round to see him, but Edward said he hadn’t heard from him. She then explained to Anna and Paul that she had continued to phone around all his friends, the garage again, and that his father had rung her a few times.

  ‘Nobody had seen him or heard a word from him,’ she concluded.

  Anna leaned forward. ‘Mr Rawlins said that you had found his passport, but according to Missing Persons you said that it was not here at the flat.’

  ‘Right. I looked in the drawers in our bedroom and I saw Alan’s passport and I told his father it was still in the flat. It wasn’t until I spoke with the Missing Persons officer that I looked closer and realised it was an out of date one and his current one was actually missing.’

  ‘Did Alan go abroad a lot?’

  ‘Maybe once a year. We went to Spain for a holiday and Turkey once, but he didn’t go frequently. He did spend a lot of his free time in Cornwall surfing. Most of the time we didn’t have the money because we were saving up to get married and buy a place. We only rent this flat.’

  She wrinkled her pert little nose. ‘I suppose it’s obvious, but we didn’t want to waste money doing this place up.’

  ‘Has Alan ever left before without leaving you a contact address?’

  ‘No, never. I agreed with his father that this was totally out of character for Alan, since he was always very caring and thoughtful. But . . .’ She licked her lips.

  Anna waited and eventually Tina gave a sigh.

  ‘I had been a bit worried about him. I mean, not too much, but he’d stayed late at work a lot recently and one time I phoned when he said he’d been at work, but the garage was closed so it wasn’t the truth.’

  ‘So what did you think?’

  ‘Well, I started to wonder if there was someone else, another woman, but he only did it once or twice, and when I asked him about it he said that he was working on his own car. It’s a 280SL Mercedes – an old one – and he was always doing this and that to it. He planned to do it up and then sell it to make a big profit as he’d got it cheap.’

  ‘This was the car he used to go to work in?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Yes, but the bodywork needed respraying and the engine was a bit dodgy – well, that’s what he told me. It’s a convertible and I know he was getting a new soft top as the old one was damaged.’

  Tina went on to say how she had gone to Alan’s garage and was told that if he didn’t show up for work, Mr Fairfax would have to replace him. Alan’s car was still parked there and they had not heard from him. His mobile phone had been left inside the glove compartment.

  ‘Which is why he didn’t answer when I called,’ she said, and got up to open a drawer in a side table. She took out the mobile and handed it to Anna, adding, ‘It’ll need recharging.’

  ‘Tell me about his friends.’

  ‘Alan’s?’

  ‘Yes.’ Anna found it strange that Tina was so unemotional – helpful, yes, but she showed no sign of distress. Everything was very matter-of-fact. She had left the room to return with Alan’s address book and passed it to Anna.

  ‘He didn’t have that many close friends, and we didn’t really socialise that much as we were saving up. We spent most of our time together watching DVDs and didn’t go out a lot.’

  ‘Did he drink?’

  ‘Not really, just the odd glass of wine.’

  ‘Drugs?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. Alan was very straitlaced; he didn’t even like taking the medication for his headaches as he said it made him feel woozy.’

  ‘What about enemies?’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Did anyone have a grudge against him?’ Anna then glanced at Paul, indicating she was leaving any further questions to him.

  ‘No. You only had to meet him to know that he was a really nice guy. He hated confrontation of any kind – took after his father. They were very close.’

  Tina then went at some length into how good a relationship Alan had with his parents, and how caring he was towards his mother, often phoning her two or three times a week and visiting her.

  ‘She’s in another world, doesn’t really know who anyone is. It’s very sad, but he adored her and he was an only child. He reckoned he owed his parents a lot. They’d paid for his education and I think his dad had given him the money for the Mercedes.’

  ‘What about his bank balance?’

  Tina got up again and crossed to the same drawer, taking out copies of their bank statements. They had a joint savings account – of just over seventy thousand pounds.

  There was a current account that was used to pay the rent, and into which Alan’s wages were paid directly, so it was clear how much he withdrew to live on. Not a lot. Tina also had a separate account for her beauty salon; this was overdrawn by thirty-five thousand.

  ‘We saved the seventy thousand between us. Alan did well out of doing up and selling on old classic cars and the salon had a good turnover being in Hounslow High Street.’

  ‘Your salon looks in trouble,’ Anna said quietly.

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s the recession. We do hair, nails and beauty treatments, but when money is short, women don’t make appointments. I think the business is picking up though – thank God, as I’m on my overdraft limit and the bank doesn’t like it.’

  ‘Do you own the salon?’

  ‘No, I only rent it – but on a five-year lease. I work hard, but like I said, it’s been a bit worrying, which is why I’ve been spending so much time there and
taking a cut in wages. I really want to make it successful.’

  ‘How long have you had the salon?’ Anna asked, still glancing over the bank statements.

  ‘Almost two years. Before that I was a beautician at Selfridges in Oxford Street. I employ two good hairdressers, one a stylist, and the other can do beauty treatments as well as hair. I’ve also got two trainees plus a girl on reception, and business is picking up. Well, you can see that from the accounts.’

  Anna suspected that Tina’s business probably had a far bigger turnover than she wanted to reveal and she was using the overdraft as an excuse to hide the fact.

  Tina told them all about her salon, about buying the equipment and redecorating, and how Alan had helped, spending many nights working there before she was ready to open. When she ran out of things to say, Anna spoke again.

  ‘Let’s go back to your feelings that Alan may have been seeing someone else.’

  ‘Well, like I said, it was just because I caught him out lying about working in the garage. I never found out if he was seeing someone else – it was just a suspicion, and now obviously I think it could have been more.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Because he’s disappeared,’ Tina said, tight-lipped with impatience.

  ‘When you discussed these late nights with Alan, how did he react?’

  She shrugged and said that he just told her she was being stupid, as he was working on his Merc and if the phone wasn’t answered at the garage it was because he was outside.

  ‘So he didn’t get angry – you didn’t argue?’

  ‘Alan wasn’t that type. I don’t think we ever really had a cross word, to be honest, which is why I don’t understand how he could just leave me without saying something.’

  ‘But he hasn’t taken any money?’

  ‘Not that I know of, but when he sold the cars he did up it was often for cash deals.’

  ‘What about his clothes? Has he taken anything – a suitcase even?’

  ‘I can’t be certain. I mean, I don’t know every item of clothing he’s got – but I suppose he could have taken a few things.’

  ‘Have you checked?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I told the Missing Persons officer his washing bag and toiletries have gone, but I wouldn’t really know exactly what clothes were missing.’

  ‘Why didn’t you report him missing?’

  ‘I thought he might have gone off with another woman and I was waiting for him to contact me. When his dad said he’d reported him missing, I thought he’d done the right thing.’

  Anna stood up and asked to be shown around the flat. Tina looked at her watch, saying she wouldn’t have much more time as she had to shower and get to work. She led them down a narrow corridor and gestured at a small box room.

  ‘We use this to store a few things as it’s so small.’

  Anna looked into the room. A single bed and a desk stood beside a row of fitted wardrobes. There was the same beige carpet in there too, and matching curtains.

  ‘Did Alan have a computer?’

  ‘No. He was always going to get a laptop, but never got around to it.’

  Tina then led them to the master bedroom. This was as nondescript as the rest of the flat. It contained a king-sized bed with a duvet and a Moroccan throw across it. The double wardrobes were crammed with Tina’s clothes and shoes. Alan’s side had only a few things in it; a couple of suits, shirts, and in a row of drawers were socks, underpants, two pairs of jeans and three T-shirts.

  Anna thought that a man of Alan’s age would have had more clothing, particularly informal wear.

  ‘What sort of casual clothes did Alan dress in?’

  ‘Mostly jeans, black or blue denim with a white or blue T-shirt. I don’t know how many pairs of jeans or T-shirts he had so that’s why I don’t know exactly what clothing he could have taken.’

  ‘What about work-clothes – mechanic’s overalls?’

  Tina nodded and said they were kept in the small utility room as he would take off his dirty clothes and put them straight into the washing machine when he returned from work. They trooped in there to look, and sure enough, there were some work-boots, a couple of denim jackets and jeans and two oil-stained overalls.

  The kitchen was immaculate, with a juicer on the Formica top and a bowl of more fresh fruit. Nothing looked as if it was used very often, and the cream and black floor was highly polished, as was everything else. Anna sniffed; there was a distinct smell of bleach mixed with a heavy lavender room spray. They next went outside to look into Alan’s garage. This was almost as neat, with all his equipment hanging on hooks and Tina’s VW parked inside.

  Anna said little as they drove back to the station. When Paul brought a coffee into her office he said, ‘You’re very quiet,’ putting the drink down on her desk.

  ‘Yeah. Tell me what you got from the interview.’

  ‘Not very much. I think she’s a bit of a clean freak. Their flat might be rented, but it was as if they had just moved in – everything spotless and nothing out of place.’

  ‘Bit like her,’ Anna said, sipping her coffee.

  Paul sat opposite and flipped open his notebook.

  ‘Nice cash deposit. Joint account, so I suppose she can fix her overdraft in her beauty salon.’

  ‘That would only leave thirty-five thousand which isn’t a big deposit for first-time buyers.’

  ‘Depends what size place you’re after, I guess – I’ve only got about two grand saved. She makes Alan out to be a really boring guy – never argued, never a cross word, hardly ever went out, didn’t drink or take drugs. He sounds too good to be true. Unless he did have another woman stashed somewhere.’

  ‘Well, if he did,’ Anna said, ‘he wasn’t taking out extra money to pay for her, and the fact that there’s been no money withdrawn from any of the accounts is worrying. I don’t think we can walk away just yet. We’ll do a few discreet interviews at his place of work and . . .’

  ‘Maybe the hair salon. If he was helping Tina do it up he’d have come into contact with the other females working there, so you never know – he might have run off with one of them.’

  Anna nodded, but she doubted it.

  ‘Okay, we’ll start with his place of work,’ she said. ‘Check out a few of the friends too and see if they can come up with anything.’

  ‘What about talking to his parents?’

  ‘Doubt if they can shed any more light on his disappearance. In fact, his father asked me to look into it weeks ago.’ She sighed.

  ‘So we have no motive . . .’

  ‘Unless there is something we overlooked. Let’s get a list of the calls and texts on his mobile.’

  Paul left Anna to finish her coffee. She hadn’t mentioned her gut feeling to him – that she didn’t like Tina. Even though the girl had been helpful, she showed no emotion. Tina and Alan were arranging to buy a place and get married in a few months’ time, and yet she hadn’t shed a single tear or even appeared anxious. It was almost as if she just accepted that she’d never see her fiancé again.

  Helping their enquiry was one thing, and it would mean a couple more days of legwork checking out Alan’s friends and so on, but with no hint of anything untoward having happened, Alan Rawlins could remain on the Missing Persons files along with the thousands of other people.

  Anna put in a call to Langton and gave him the details of their meeting with Tina. He listened without interruption until she said they would give it a couple more days before moving on.

  ‘Okay, give me your gut feeling,’ he said.

  She hesitated. The fact that she had not liked Tina was not enough for them to instigate a murder enquiry. She repeated that they did not have anything incriminating or anything that hinted at foul play. It was a possibility Alan Rawlins had just taken off; it had been done before.

  ‘Yeah, many times, but carry on. As you said, give it another couple of days.’

  Langton was about to end the call when Anna asked him, ‘
What’s your gut feeling?’

  ‘You need a body,’ he said and laughed. As always he hedged the issue. ‘We should have that dinner soon.’ Then he hung up.

  Anna replaced the phone and sat back in her chair.

  ‘It’s all too neat,’ she mumbled to herself. She closed her eyes, picturing the flat. It was as if there was deliberately nothing out of place. If there had been some kind of altercation or an argument, something that had forced Alan Rawlins to take off, maybe all evidence of it had been tidied away. According to Tina though, nothing unusual had happened, apart from Alan returning home from work that Monday morning with a migraine. If he had, as Tina suspected, simply walked out on her, there had to be a reason.

  Anna left the station. Even though she had suggested to Paul that they leave Alan Rawlins’s parents out of their round of interviews, instinctively she knew they needed to talk again to Edward Rawlins.

  Chapter Two

  Edward Rawlins was not at home when Anna called, but his wife’s carer answered the door. She was a heavily built Jamaican woman wearing a blue overall, and when Anna asked if it was possible to speak with Mrs Rawlins, she gave a shrug of her big shoulders.

  ‘She’s just got her tray, but you can come in and see her. Mr Rawlins is usually home around this time. I’m Rose.’

  The house was dark and with a lot of reproduction antique furniture. It was like a 1970s time-capsule. The walls were a yellowish-brown, with faded flowery wallpaper and sagging chipboard shelves. The avocado shagpile carpet looked equally worn and faded. Anna followed Rose up the narrow stairs to the landing. Rose opened the door of a front bedroom, which was oppressively hot; the heat seemed to waft from the room as the door opened.

  ‘Kathleen, you’ve got a visitor, dear.’

  Anna entered the large room, which contained a lot of dark pine furniture, along with a big television set and stacks of magazines and books. The double bed had a cosy chenille bedspread and frilled pillows, with matching curtains at the windows. Kathleen Rawlins was sitting in a wing-back chair with a tray on a small table in front of her. It held a bowl of soup with a bread roll, sausages with mashed potatoes and gravy, plus a childish jelly with Smarties on top.