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“That could be a problem,” said Sharp.
“Why?”
“The records indicate he lives next door.”
Gardener moved onto the front porch, grabbed his phone, and called the station. He wanted a check running on Nicola Stapleton. What did they know about her? Did she have a record? He also asked for a check on Barry Morrison. Finally, he asked for everything they could raise on the missing girl Chloe from Esholt. He apologized for not having a surname, but he doubted she’d be hard to find, as it had happened in the last two weeks.
When he returned, Beryl Potts was still sitting in her chair.
“Did you know this Barry Morrison?”
“No, not to talk to. Like I said, I’ve seen him a few times, and we may have nodded or said hello, but that’s about it.”
“Have you seen him here tonight?”
“No. I would have told you.”
“Did it look to you like he lived here?”
“No.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Beryl Potts scratched her head. “I’m not sure. I think he was here last Sunday. Sometime in the afternoon, maybe three o’clock.”
“I would have thought car sales had a better chance of business on a Sunday. More people to look round,” said Gardener, more to himself.
“Well, I’m not sure, but I think they had a taxi business from there as well. I’ve sometimes seen him turn up in a taxi.”
“Have you ever used his taxi firm?”
“No. Don’t go far enough to need one.”
“Had you ever seen him and Nicola together? Could they have been an item?”
“Maybe, but whenever I saw them, they didn’t look like a couple. Looked more like business to me. I just took him as one of her regulars.”
“What about Barry’s brother? Ever seen him, or know him?”
“No. Sorry.”
Gardener figured he probably had as much information as he was going to receive for now, so he decided to wrap things up. Still, it was plenty to go on.
“Is there anything else you can add to what you’ve told me, Mrs Potts?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, if you do remember anything, anything at all, give me a call at the station.” He passed his card over. “Once the dust settles, all sorts of things come back to people. Doesn’t matter how small or insignificant you think it is, it could be very important to me.”
She simply nodded.
“I’m going to leave PC Edwards with you for a few more minutes. I’d like the names and addresses of all the local people you know that Nicola Stapleton entertained.”
“Some of them are married. That’s not going to look so good, is it?”
“They should have thought of that when they were playing away from home. And you’ve no need to worry, Mrs Potts, it’s confidential.”
Gardener’s mobile chimed. When he answered, he found it was his DCI, Alan Briggs, on the line.
