Deborah Crombie - In A Dark House

Before Kincaid could intervene, Kath said, “Tony? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She looked concerned, but not frightened, and Kincaid checked himself, waiting to see what this was about.

“You know bloody well what’s happened,” said the man she’d called Tony, his voice rising to a sob. “She’s gone, and so is Harriet. I want to know what you’ve done with them.”

“Laura’s gone?” Kath gave Kincaid a startled glance. “Tony, I haven’t seen her. I don’t know anything about it.”

Stepping forward, Kincaid said quietly, “Hey, mate. Why don’t you let Kath go. Then we can talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to find my daughter,” Tony snapped back, but he seemed to take in Kincaid’s presence for the first time. After a moment, he dropped his hands and stepped back a pace.

Kincaid got his first good look at the man. He was tall and thin, with a long face and the sort of dark, brooding looks Kincaid suspected women would find appealing under better circumstances. Now, however, he looked exhausted, and his well-shaped mouth was twisted in an effort to hold back tears.

“This is Tony Novak,” explained Kath, making a game attempt at normality. “His wife is on our board of directors. Harriet’s his daughter. Tony’s a doctor at Guy’s. He’s helped us with some of our residents-”

“I’d never have lifted a finger if I’d known what I know now. Laura told me, you know. And she threatened me. She knew you’d help her.”

“Help her do what, Tony?” Kincaid asked, forestalling Kath.

“Disappear. Disappear with my daughter. That’s what they do here. They help women disappear. But I’m not standing for it.” He turned back to Kath Warren, menace visible now beneath the hysteria. “You’re going to get me my daughter back.”

“Tony, I’ve told you. I haven’t seen her. I haven’t seen either of them. This is Superintendent Kincaid from Scotland Yard. You should tell him-”

Kincaid’s phone rang, startling them all. Pulling it from his belt, he glanced at the name on the caller ID and jabbed the Send key. “Gemma,” he said quickly, “I’ll ring you right back – Hey!”

In the instant Kincaid had been distracted, Tony Novak had turned and vanished into the street.

KINCAID SPRINTED TO one end of the short street, then to the other, but there was no sign of Tony Novak in either direction. When he returned to the shelter, he found Kath Warren standing on the pavement, looking out for him anxiously. “Did you see him?” she asked.

Shaking his head while he caught his breath, he resolved to take up jogging. His weekly games of football with the boys were obviously not keeping him in as good a shape as he’d thought. Nor did the climate help – a dark bank of cloud was building to the west, and the char-tinged air felt heavy as treacle in his lungs. “No, not a sign,” he told her when he could speak. “Who the hell is this guy, anyway? Is he completely barking mad?”

“No. At least I don’t think so,” Kath qualified, frowning. “I’ve certainly never seen him act like that. He really does work in Trauma at Guy’s, and his wife – his ex-wife – is one of our board members. Laura helps out in our office when she can, but I haven’t seen her in several days.”

“Do you think there’s any truth to his abduction story?”

“I can’t imagine Laura would do something like that. But then…” Kath hesitated. “You never really know about people, do you? I got the impression it was a bitter divorce, but I believe they had a shared custody arrangement that worked well enough. Laura’s not the type to air her dirty laundry in public, though.”

“She wouldn’t have confided in you?”

“We’re not close friends. I’m not sure Laura has any close friends, to tell the truth. She’s very focused on her job, her child, and her volunteer work. She’s a doctor, too, a surgeon at Guy’s.”

Kincaid studied Kath. Her words were polite enough, but her body language said she didn’t much care for Laura Novak. “What did Novak mean when he said you helped women disappear?” he asked.

Her throaty laugh sounded forced. “We don’t bury bodies in the cornfields, Superintendent, in spite of how Tony made it sound. It’s all perfectly legitimate. Sometimes it becomes obvious that counseling and trial separation are not going to do the trick. At that point, if it seems that a resident, or a resident and her family, are in serious physical danger, we make arrangements for them to start over someplace safe. In these cases it’s essential that the husband or partner not be told their whereabouts. Unfortunately,” Kath added with a sigh, “as I said earlier about the shelter, the system’s not foolproof. We’ve had several cases recently where the man has discovered the family’s new location. In one instance a woman was killed.

“Even if the woman is convinced she mustn’t contact her abusive partner, there’s a chance she won’t be able to resist staying in touch with someone else, say, a mother or sister, and” – she shrugged- “the information invariably leaks out.”

“Okay. I understand that. But that still doesn’t explain where Tony Novak would get the idea you were going to help his wife ‘disappear.’”

“I don’t know.” Kath looked genuinely puzzled. “I can’t believe Laura would tell him something like that.”

“Did she ever give you reason to think he was abusive?”

“No. But as I said, she keeps herself to herself, and I’ve enough experience with these things to know that abuse can happen where you’d least expect it. Look.” Kath touched Kincaid’s arm. “Shouldn’t we make sure she’s all right? If she and Tony had a fight that got out of hand, maybe she’s hiding from him. She could be hurt.”

“I’ll need an address,” Kincaid told her with an inward sigh. This was just what he didn’t need – a domestic, on top of an unidentified homicide victim, a possible arsonist, and a disabled woman’s missing roommate. But he couldn’t ignore it, especially if Laura Novak really did turn out to be missing. “And a description,” he added, fishing his notebook from his jacket pocket.

“I can give you her address without looking it up,” said Kath. “She lives in Park Street. We talked about it often enough, because Laura’s always involved in all the neighborhood issues. Her latest project was Crossbones Graveyard – you know, the old cemetery just a street over.” She nodded in the direction of London Bridge Station.

“I’ll need a specific address,” Kincaid said, trying to steer her back to the subject. Time was passing, and Gemma and Winnie would be waiting for him.

Kath gave him a house number, adding, “The house is unmistakable. It’s early nineteenth century. She’s very proud of it.”

“Can you describe Laura for me?”

“Um, I’d say midthirties… I know her daughter is ten, and I think Laura had finished med school when Harriet was born.”

“Looks?” prompted Kincaid.

“Medium height. Thin and wiry. Dark curly hair. Naturally curly, not permed.”

“But light-skinned?”

“Oh, yes. Freckles. Brown eyes, I think – I never paid that much attention.”

Kincaid realized with an unwelcome chill that Laura Novak matched the pathologist’s description of their homicide victim. He’d have to move this up on his priority list. But the woman in the warehouse had been alone, which didn’t account for a missing child. “And the daughter?” he asked. “You said her name is Harriet? Can you describe her, too?”