The Scribbler Iain Maitland (good books to read txt) 📖

corner of the room. She opened a notepad next to the telephone and flicked through the pages.

“It’s 07956 …” She passed the notepad to Thomas, who noted the rest of the number on his phone. He then, after Carrie’s nod, pressed the buttons to ring the number.

As the woman took the pad back and moved to sit down, Thomas shook his head, “Still the answerphone.”

Carrie continued talking, “Mrs Taylor, this may seem an odd question, but I have to ask it. Have you checked to see that your husband is not in the house or the garden?”

The woman looked at Carrie in disbelief.

“It’s not as … there are cases where someone has been reported missing and, on investigation, they’ve been found in a back bedroom or a shed.”

The woman swallowed, taking in the significance of what Carrie was saying. She shook her head.

“May we, Mrs Taylor?”

The woman nodded her agreement

Carrie nodded at Thomas, “Go and check.”

There was a tense silence as they heard Thomas’s footsteps on the staircase, moving into one upstairs room and then another and, finally, back downstairs again.

He came into the front room and shook his head, all clear, and then went out towards the back door.

They waited, quiet and on edge, as they heard the back door being opened and closed and footsteps disappearing into the distance.

“Just routine, Mrs Taylor. I have to complete a form, tick boxes, to confirm I’ve covered the basics.”

The woman nodded back, to show she understood.

And then Thomas was back, nodding all fine, and Carrie could feel the tension ease out of Mrs Taylor.

“I also need to ask you if any important items may have been taken by your husband … a suitcase, clothing … anything to suggest he might have made plans.”

The woman shook her head. “No, no, everything is as it should be. I did check.”

There was a silence before Thomas spoke, interrupting what Carrie was about to say.

“So, it has occurred to you then, Mrs Taylor, that your husband might have been planning to leave?”

Another silence; both Carrie and Thomas noting to themselves the look on Mrs Taylor’s face. A look that screamed yes but whispered I am too ashamed to say so.

“No …” she answered hesitantly, “I just thought I’d check … as a loving wife.” She stopped, clearly not going to say any more.

Carrie then stared at Thomas, a warning look, don’t say anything else, leave it to me. She went on.

“Might he have been in touch with friends or family members at all, Mrs Taylor?”

The woman shook her head slowly. “I’ve checked, I have rung everyone I can think of.” She said it slowly, realising that this was almost an admittance that something was wrong, that others may know more about her husband than she did.

“When we get a missing person report, Mrs Taylor, it’s allocated to an officer, on this occasion me, to … to check the initial details … and to carry out a risk assessment. I need to ask you one or two more personal questions, Mrs Taylor.”

The woman nodded her agreement with a fleeting movement of her head. She did not, Carrie noticed, meet her eye, and was now keeping her head bowed.

“Okay, how would you describe your husband’s physical health?”

The woman raised her head, looked relieved. “Fine, generally. The usual aches and pains of getting older. His back hurts from time to time. He sits at a desk all day. But that’s about it.”

“Is he on any medication at all, that you know of?”

“No, no, he’s well.”

“And how would you describe your husband’s mental health, Mrs Taylor?”

“He’s been …” The woman stopped, to gather her thoughts, to say what she wanted to say correctly. Then seemed to think better of it. “He’s fine,” she nodded.

Thomas started speaking. “Has his behaviour been any different lately? … any reason you can think of why he might go missing?”

The woman glanced from Thomas to Carrie and back.

She’s hiding something, thought Carrie. But doesn’t want to say.

The woman pulled a not-that-I-can-think-of face and then said no, and then repeated herself once more, no not at all.

Thomas paused, “May I ask about your—”

Carrie interrupted, speaking louder than she meant to, “Okay, that’s all good, thank you, Mrs Taylor. We’ll need a photo, a recent photo, of your husband and, if you have it, the registration number of his car. We can check the car and mobile phone.”

The woman smiled briefly, suggesting they wait there a moment and then left the room.

Carrie turned to Thomas, speaking quietly. “Don’t ask about her marriage.”

“I just thought …”

“Well don’t. Not now,” Carrie answered.

There was an awkward silence until the woman returned, holding out a photograph and a sheet of paper.

“Here’s a recent photograph of Philip. Taken last Christmas at his office do. He’s in the middle. His friend Brian is to his left and that smiling young man, I don’t know who he is, someone from work I suppose, is on his right.”

Carrie took the photo and looked at it. She passed it to Thomas, indicating he should use his phone to photograph it. As he did so, she spoke to Mrs Taylor. “This is how he looks now?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, he’s a little lighter, I think he’s lost half a stone this past year … he’s taken up walking some evenings … but yes, it’s a good likeness.”

She then handed a sheet of paper to Carrie, a motor insurance certificate. “And this is his car details, YA … a Nissan Quashqai, a dark grey one …”

She watched as Carrie passed the paper to Thomas, who photographed it. Then asked, “What will you do next?”

Carrie scribbled in her notepad, tore out the page and handed it to the woman, “My number, if you hear anything from your husband … or family and friends … anyone … let me know.”

Carrie started moving towards the door. Thomas and the woman followed her.

“We’ll conduct enquiries to trace Philip … we’ll speak to his colleagues at work … the dentist … see