‘He doesn’t have any.’
‘Okay.’
He hung up and Judith kept walking. She didn’t want to go to the station, not yet. The case had a hold of her. If she tried to step back into the team, she’d feel the way she always felt at moments like this. One step out of sync with everyone around her, like an alien masquerading as a human. In the end, she decided to drive around to Haines Street, to take a look at the small apartment block that sat to the left of Robert Walker’s office building. The chances of finding anything were beyond slim, but she needed to do something.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The apartment block was as she’d remembered it. Nineties architecture. Three storeys, squat and charmless, but with large balconies that suggested apartments that were a decent size, unlike the shoeboxes being built today. Judith stood on the other side of the road and examined the building. She counted the windows. There were four apartments on each floor, best she could tell, so twelve in total. There was aFor Rentsign shoved into the small scrubby grass verge in front of the building. The sign looked weather battered. It had probably been there for months. Maybe it was a permanent feature.
Judith called the number displayed. She asked to speak to the agent who managed the building. There was a buzz, and a click, and her call was diverted. It rang three times and was answered.
‘Wendy Sweeney. How can I help you?’
Judith introduced herself. ‘I’m searching for a woman named Ruth Hall. I’m wondering if she might have rented an apartment or a room from you in the building on Haines Street, sometime in the past six months?’
‘Oh. Wow. Okay. You’re a real police detective? I’ve never talked to a detective before. What’s this about? Is it serious?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t get into it.’ Clouds were beginning to gather overhead. The sky was darkening. Rain was on the way. Judith raised her face to the sky. She’d welcome a storm right then and there.
‘No, of course. I completely understand. Just hold on a minute.’ There was a pause, then Wendy came back on the line. ‘I had to pull in. I was talking to you on the hands-free, but I need my phone if I’m going to look this up.’ She fell silent again for a moment, then came back on, sounding disappointed. ‘No. Sorry. I haven’t rented anything in that building to anyone named Ruth.’
‘Okay. Thanks for trying.’ Judith was already switching off from the conversation. Her brain was moving on to the next steps. She should go into the station, find Rocky, convince him to call in some favours. Together they should go to Superintendent Sawhill, persuade her to bring pressure to bear on the Director of Child Protective Services so that they could immediately get their hands on Ruth and Miriam’s child protection files. Find out where else Ruth had been placed and go out and interview everyone they could find who’d known her. There had to be someone who knew where she lived, where she worked. She couldn’t live on air.
‘I’ve only rented two apartments in that building in the last six months. Between you and me, it has problems. No insulation, just for starters, and the plumbing is an issue, not to mention a chronic cockroach infestation. I can’t tell you the number of times we’ve had the fumigators out, but sometimes those little buggers just don’t want to shift.’
‘Okay. Thanks for your time.’
‘So the first one was on the ground floor, and that went to a guy called George Townsend. Well, George and his girlfriend really—she was very sweet—but George was the one who signed the lease. And the third floor went to a young woman named Alexis Turner. Lovely girl. Charming. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. Do you know, I wanted to be a policewoman myself when I was a girl? My father said I wasn’t cut out for it, which was terribly misogynistic of him, wasn’t it? But at the time I just thought he must be right. You know, it took me a while to figure out how to think for myself.’
Judith felt goose bumps rise on her arms.
‘Wendy, do you have keys to the apartments you’ve rented?’
There was a momentary pause. ‘Yes. I mean, of course. We have keys to all of the properties we manage.’
‘And do you have to carry out inspections on any of those properties from time to time? Impromptu inspections? Maybe to check on those cockroaches you mentioned?’
Wendy Sweeney might be a talker, but she was far from stupid. There was only the smallest hesitation before she said, ‘Oh. Oh yes. Definitely. That’s definitely something I would do.’
‘Is it something you might do today?’
‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’
In the end it took her closer to twenty. Judith stood in the shade of the street tree opposite the building, and kept her eyes on the door. She was conspicuous where she was standing, she knew that, but there were no good alternatives. She could stand inside a neighbouring property, but she risked drawing the attention of a homeowner, who might legitimately wonder why a strange woman was loitering in their yard. And moving might mean that she’d end up with a restricted view. So she stayed where she was. By the time Wendy Sweeney arrived, Judith was almost ready to jump out of her skin with repressed tension. Wendy drove a Mini. The car had a sage green body and a cream roof and it must have been fully electric because Judith didn’t hear it coming. Wendy parked on the other side of the street. She got out of the car—a friendly bundle of a woman, dressed in a floral maxi dress and a jacket, with grey hair to her shoulders—and waved energetically.
‘Judith? Are you Judith?’
Judith crossed the road quickly. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said, keeping her voice low. Wendy immediately matched her tone, speaking almost in a hushed voice.
‘Of course! I have a lunch, but it’s not until one. I’m delighted to help. Well. Not delighted. Not if it’s something terribly serious.’ She paused. ‘Is it? Something terribly serious?’
‘If you could lead the way,’ Judith said. ‘That would be very helpful.’
She followed Wendy into the building. There was an electronic lock on the entrance door for which Wendy used a swipe key. There was no elevator, and they climbed the stairs to the third floor. Wendy moved slowly, and she was gassed by the time they reached the top.
‘Sorry,’ she said, breathing a little heavily. ‘I have a trainer—lovely girl—but I keep cancelling on her. I hate exercise. Nothing more boring.’ The corridor was narrow. The floors were tile, discoloured and chipped in a couple of places. The walls would have benefited from a fresh coat of paint. It was chilly inside the building. Wendy stopped outside apartment 3C. The door was painted spearmint green. ‘This is it,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘What do I do? Should I just...’
‘If you could just step back a moment.’ Judith was struck with sudden uncertainty. She was taking a risk—too big a risk. If Ruth Hall was inside she could be armed. Two guns had been stolen from Steve Gifford, and only one of them had been recovered. She shouldn’t have allowed Wendy to be there. But that overwhelming sense of urgency, of time running out, wouldn’t go away. She gestured for the other woman to step further back down the corridor, then she knocked briskly on the door, and waited. She listened carefully, but heard nothing. The whole building was eerily silent. There was no music playing, no voices coming from neighbouring apartments. No cars passing on the road outside. Judith knocked again. Again there was silence. She waited, then asked Wendy to unlock the door. Wendy fumbled with a large ring of keys until she found the right one. She inserted the key into the lock, unlocked the door, then stepped back again.
