The Coop by E C Deacon

Author:E C Deacon [Deacon, E C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2019-06-11T16:00:00+00:00

The interview with Celia Lewis did not go well. After numerous phone calls, she finally agreed to meet Helen and Everton at her London constituency office, a converted Victorian building overlooking Putney Heath. She could give them an hour, no more, before she drove down to Oxfordshire to check the final arrangements for the private funeral service.

The impeccably coiffured secretary ushered them into the constituency manager’s drably furnished office. Celia sat at a teak-style desk in front of her steel-haired driver, who stood, like a character out of a Tarantino movie, silhouetted against the winter light flooding in through the sash window behind him.

“You wanted to see me?” said Celia brusquely, forgoing any of the formalities.

“Yes. I’m sorry if it’s an inconvenient time.”

“It is. If you can please get to the point.”

Helen felt her hackles rise; she was willing to cut Celia some slack for being under tremendous stress but did not take kindly to her dismissive attitude. “I’ll endeavour to do that,” she said, nodding to Everton, who dutifully took out his notebook and pen. “Do you mind if my colleague takes some notes?”

Celia ignored the question. Everton took it as a sign of her acceptance. “If this is about the laptop, I already told your colleague that I have absolutely no knowledge of its whereabouts or, for that matter, why it should be so important.”

“It may not be. But we have reason to believe that someone who was in contact with your daughter is also responsible for the abduction and possible murder of three missing women.”

Hard as she tried to conceal it, Everton saw a hairline crack appear in Celia’s icy composure. “I don’t understand.”

The driver saw it too and immediately interjected, “Excuse me. Mrs Lewis agreed to this meeting on the understanding that it concerned her daughter’s missing belongings.”

“We think they may be connected in some way.”

“Why would you think that?”

If Helen didn’t like Celia’s patronising tone, she liked his and his silhouette even less. “Sorry, we haven’t been introduced. Who are you, sir?”

The tall man took a calculated step forward, revealing himself, and said, “Brian Hoffman. I look after Mrs Lewis’ personal security. And you are?”

“DC Lake, PC Bowe, Metropolitan Police Missing Persons Unit, South West Division.”

He nodded his acknowledgement to them in turn and said, “May I ask why you think Mrs Lewis would have any useful information about these missing women?”

Behind the studied politeness, the Savile Rowe suit and club tie, Everton smelt ex-Old Bill and weighed in on Helen’s side. “We have no idea if she has or not. That’s why we need to ask her these questions. To help us eliminate her from our enquiries.”

Hoffman slipped a leather notebook and Mont Blanc ballpoint from his chalk-stripe jacket and asked, “Who is your lead officer on the investigation?”

“I am, sir,” Helen replied evenly, knowing the reaction it would get.

“You?”

“Yes. Do you mind if we sit, Mrs Lewis? My colleague has an ear infection; it can upset his balance.”

“What? No. Just get on with it.

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