‘Who is it?’ called a voice through the door.
‘Police,’ said Cooper. ‘We just want to talk to you.’
The door opened a crack, with a chain firmly in place, and a pale face appeared half covered by a fringe of straight black hair.
‘ID?’
Cooper showed his warrant card, which she studied carefully.
‘Can we come in for a few minutes?’ he said.
‘I suppose so.’
She took the chain off and let Cooper push the door open. She walked across the room and turned off the music without being asked. She had an iPod docked into a set of speakers and a laptop open on a table.
‘I was just doing a bit of work,’ she said.
‘You’re at college.’
‘That’s right. I’m studying Travel and Tourism. Maybe one day I’ll be able to get right away from this place.’
‘Travel and Tourism? Is that a degree?’
‘A BTEC Diploma.’
‘Right. Is it going well?’
‘Okay. If I work hard and don’t get distracted.’
Lacey looked at him curiously.
‘You’re not quite what I expected from a policeman.’
‘We come in all kinds of shapes and sizes,’ said Cooper. ‘Just like real people.’
Lacey glanced from him to Murfin, who had only just made it through the door and closed it behind himself. Cooper could see a different thought forming in Lacey’s mind.
‘My colleague isn’t actually a police officer,’ said Cooper. ‘He’s civilian support.’
‘That explains it,’ she said. ‘One of those old fogeys working on a cold case squad.’
Murfin grinned. ‘Don’t worry about me, love. I’ve got a skin as thick as the concrete in this tower block.’
‘I wasn’t worried about you. You look like you’re about to have a heart attack, but as long as you don’t do it here I couldn’t care less.’
‘I’ll try to survive for your sake, love.’
Lacey perched on the arm of a sofa pushed against the window. The extent of the view was fantastic, looking out over the western side of Sheffield to the outskirts of the city and the first hills of the Peak District in a haze on the horizon. Two good things about Sheffield: it was built on hills, and the national park was right on the doorstep.
‘Lacey,’ said Cooper, ‘are you aware that your father is missing?’
‘Yes, I know. I’ve known since Monday.’
‘How did you find out?’
‘Naomi Heath. She sent me a message through the college.’
‘She doesn’t have your phone number?’
‘Dad does,’ said Lacey. ‘But I’ve told him that if he lets Naomi phone me I’ll ditch my phone and change my number.’
‘Do you have any idea where your father might be?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. All kinds of places. You could try that woman he was having an affair with at work.’
‘Madeline Betts?’ said Cooper. ‘We’ve checked with her. She hasn’t seen him.’
‘Some other woman, then. How would I know? I don’t keep track of what he’s up to.’
‘You don’t approve of your father.’
Cooper felt he was stating the obvious. Lacey was eighteen and it was perfectly normal at that age.
She pulled an exaggerated expression of disgust. ‘What’s to approve of?’
‘So have you been to Bakewell recently?’ asked Cooper.
‘Yes, actually. A couple of days ago. I’d booked a place at a psychic investigation.’
‘A what?’
‘A psychic investigation,’ repeated Lacey more slowly.
‘A ghost hunt?’
‘If you want to call it that. There’s a group that organises investigations at special locations. This one was at Bakewell Town Hall. It’s an interesting place, you know.’
‘No, I didn’t know that. You mean interesting ghosts?’
‘Spirit manifestations.’
‘Did you go home while you were in Bakewell?’
‘Home?’ she said. She swept an arm around the flat. ‘This is my home.’
‘I mean the house in Aldern Way, as I’m sure you know. Where your father lives, the house you lived in yourself until you came here.’
‘No, I haven’t been back for a while.’
‘Any particular reason for that?’
‘Have you been there?’ said Lacey.
‘Yes, I was there just this morning.’
‘And did you meet Naomi?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then why do you need to ask?’ she said. ‘There’s your reason, right there.’
So she neither approved of her father nor of his new partner. Or perhaps it was because of his new partner. And Lacey knew about her father’s affair with Madeline Betts too. That was interesting. It was supposed to have ended years ago, when Lacey was a small child.
Lacey was watching him still.
‘Do you have any theories about where’s he’s gone?’ she said, narrowing her eyes.
That was smart of her. Cooper made a mental note not to underestimate her just because she was eighteen and listened to music he didn’t understand.
‘We are currently exploring the possibility that Mr Bower’s disappearance is connected with your mother’s ten years ago,’ he said, waiting with interest for her reaction.
‘Oh, I get you,’ she said.
Now she looked more subdued. So she cared about her mother more than her father. Cooper glanced at Murfin to see if he’d recovered.
‘You were very young when your mother went missing,’ said Murfin on cue. ‘It was very confusing for you. When it happened, you didn’t know who you could trust, not even the police.’
Lacey looked at him more closely, frowning.
‘Have I met you before?’ she said.
‘I was on the inquiry team at the time.’
‘You came to the house, didn’t you? With that inspector.’
‘Yes, I did.’
Lacey smirked. ‘Ten years. You’ve put on weight.’
‘I’m ten years older,’ said Murfin, ‘that’s why. But you’re ten years older too. You’re not that same eight-year-old girl who didn’t know what was happening. You’re an adult now.’
Cooper nodded in approval. Lacey was looking uncertain. She didn’t know how to react to Gavin Murfin, or perhaps to the memories that he was evoking. A familiar face or the sound of a voice could take you back so easily to a time you’d almost forgotten.
‘You spent some time with your aunt and uncle in Over Haddon, didn’t you?’ said Cooper. ‘After your father was arrested, you went to stay with them. That must have been strange. They’re very different people. Your Aunt Frances is a teacher, and a bit of a disciplinarian, I bet. Your Uncle Adrian is a very talented woodcarver. I’ve seen the tawny owl he’s carved for the show...’
‘The owl is beautiful,’ said Lacey, gazing into the sky over the city.
‘Yes, it is. Beautiful.’
She was quiet for a moment. Cooper moved a step closer. Just one small step.
‘I’m sure you must have thought about it a lot since then,’ he said. ‘About your mother, I mean. You must have spent some time wondering what happened to her.’
‘What do you think I am?’ she snapped. ‘Obviously I have. I spent years going over and over it in my mind, trying to work out what it all meant, thinking up scenes in my head where Mum would turn up at the door one day, smiling and looking just the same as she always did. It never happened.’
‘No, I’m sorry.’
‘Well, I don’t do that now. She’s gone. One way or the other, she’s gone for good and that’s it. I know she’s never coming back.’
Her voice cracked, and she turned away, pushing a lock of hair from her face as she gazed out of the window. Was she picturing her mother somewhere out there in those hazy hills?
‘My boss was in charge of the case then,’ said Cooper. ‘Detective Superintendent Branagh. She was what we call the senior investigating officer.’