Free Ramsay 06 - The Baby-Snatcher by Ann Cleeves Page A

into town.’
    ‘I didn’t notice.’
    ‘What about later?’
    ‘I didn’t see anyone. I put on a video for Kirsty and went back to bed.’ She caught his eye and held it. ‘I was knackered, wasn’t I?’
    ‘Did Claire Irvine babysit for you on Friday night?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘So she will have met your friend Paul. When you got back.’
    ‘No. He waited in the car until she’d gone home.’
    ‘Tactful.’ Again the sarcasm was intended.
    ‘Yeah!’ she blazed back at him. ‘Tactful. If you must know he was really nice. We had breakfast together, him, me and Kirsty. He made a real fuss of her. He didn’t have to do that.’
    ‘Did you talk to Claire before you went out?’
    ‘A bit. While I was getting my things together, waiting for the taxi.’
    ‘How did she seem?’
    ‘Same as she always seems. About a hundred and fifty. And it’s not surprising, is it? Wiping kids’ bums all day and staring at the walls in that house all night. I’ve offered to take her out clubbing with me but she’ll not go.’
    ‘Did she mention Mrs Howe at all?’
    Kim shook her head. ‘All she could talk about was the kiddies’ party and how good it would be.’
    ‘Did your daughter go to that?’ Hunter was surprised.
    ‘Oh yes! Kirsty and me had a royal invitation. Very honoured too. No one else on the Headland was asked.’
    ‘What was it like?’ He was intrigued.
    ‘It was all right. I mean, I only went because I thought Kirsty would like it and she’s friends with Owen at playgroup. But it was OK. Plenty of booze. Decent food. A proper buffet, not just stuff for the kids. And that Bernie Howe was good. I was surprised. You’d never think it to look at him. I mean, he could make it really big. He’s better than blokes I’ve seen on the telly. And though most of the mothers were stuck-up cows, the fellas were friendly enough once they’d had a few drinks. Yeah, it was a good party. Until mad Marilyn came knocking on the door, shouting that her mam was missing.’

Chapter Ten
    On his way down the hill from the Coastguard House Ramsay saw Hunter leave Kim Houghton’s house. The sergeant paused for a moment outside number eight, leaning his notepad on the window sill to scribble a few notes, then he knocked at the door. It was opened immediately by a large elderly woman brandishing a mop like an offensive weapon. She seemed nervous about letting him in, stood, blocking the doorway, feet apart, but Hunter must have talked her around because when Ramsay looked again the door was shut and Cotter’s Row was quiet.
    The whole Headland was quiet. There were no dog-walkers or pram-pushers. Even the washing lines along the backyards were empty. The only activity was in an area around the jetty. There a group of overalled officers were stooped, searching, but they were too far off for Ramsay to hear voices. The cloud had lifted and there was pale sunshine, a view down the coast as far as St Mary’s Island.
    He was tempted for a moment to walk on down to the jetty to ask what had been found. He would have welcomed evidence that Kath Howe had been killed there , her body tipped immediately into the cut to be carried away and brought back on the next tide. It would have been something to work on. But it seemed a dreadful discourtesy to walk down Cotter’s Row without calling on the Howes and at number two he stopped. He stood on the pavement, preparing what he might say, especially to the girl.
    In the house across the road a curtain was lifted then fell back into place. He tapped gently on the door. Sally Wedderburn answered it and let him in.
    Sally was a redhead with a pale, freckled skin and brown eyes. Hunter thought Ramsay was grooming her for stardom, and perhaps he was. Perhaps he wanted to prove to Prue that he could take positive action to push a woman up the ladder, that he was doing what he could to support her cause. Recently he had recognized the danger of trying to please Prue and made an effort to be more