Ramsay 06 - The Baby-Snatcher by Ann Cleeves Read Free Book Online Page B

friendly enough when they get to know you but if there’s not a member of your family who can remember the Cotter’s Row street party at the end of the war, you’re a newcomer.’
    Well, Ramsay thought, there were still plenty of communities in Northumberland like that. He wondered how long the Howes had been living on the Headland. He could not imagine that they belonged.
    ‘Sal Wedderburn stayed the night with the family,’ he said. ‘She was there when I told the girl about her mother.’
    ‘Aye.’ Hunter was disapproving. ‘I’d heard you’d called her in to play social worker.’
    Ramsay wondered if it was time for a warning about the petty rivalry which flared between the two officers occasionally but decided against it. Gordon Hunter was given to sulks and flounces and he could do without that now.
    ‘They seemed to take to her.’ But as soon as the words were spoken he wondered if that were true. There had been no hostility but the family had hardly seemed to acknowledge Sally’s presence. When he’d said that he’d like her to stay – for support, to fend off the press if that proved necessary – Bernard, had emerged briefly from his stupor to say, ‘But where will she sleep? Claire uses the spare room.’
    Ramsay had explained that the sofa would be fine and there had been no more comment. He had hoped that Marilyn would form a relationship with Sally, would confide in her, but realized now that this was unlikely to happen.
    ‘You think one of the family’s involved, then?’ Hunter asked.
    ‘I don’t know anything at this stage.’ The words were sharper than he’d intended and he added, ‘No. That’s not why I asked Sally to stay. The girl was very close to her mother. They went everywhere together. She’ll know better than anyone if Kath Howe was anxious, frightened. I’d hoped she’d see Sal as a friend.’
    ‘Ah.’ Hunter was relieved. ‘Like I said. Playing the social worker.’
    ‘I’d like you to come over to Heppleburn with me,’ Ramsay said. ‘I want every single person on the Headland talked to. I don’t mean a plod asking a couple of questions on the doorstep. I mean a pot of tea on the table and someone listening for as long as the chat goes on. Gossip. Not just about the Howes but about anyone living in the place.’
    ‘You think we’re looking for a local, then?’
    Ramsay shrugged, tried not to show his frustration at Hunter’s demand for easy answers. ‘It’s not the sort of place a stranger would wander across to by chance. Especially in the weather we’ve had this weekend. I don’t suppose we’ve got a time of death yet?’
    ‘Nothing specific. Some time Saturday.’
    ‘Ah.’
    ‘Problem?’
    ‘The Coastguard House has been converted to private use. On Saturday afternoon there was a kiddies’ party. I presume that means carloads of strangers visiting the place. Not exactly a problem. More of complication. We’ll need a list of visitors, car registration numbers. It certainly doesn’t make life easier. Anyone unfamiliar on the Headland that day would have been put down as a guest of the Coastguard House.’
    ‘Do you want me to talk to the owners?’
    ‘No,’ Ramsay said. ‘I’ll do that.’
    ‘Leave me to deal with the peasants? Is that it?’ Hunter grinned to show there were no hard feelings, exposing teeth which seemed very white in an even brown face. He’d been on a package holiday to Turkey in the autumn and he’d topped up his tan regularly since then on the sun beds.
    ‘Charm the old ladies more like,’ Ramsay said. Hunter liked that and grinned again.
    The jetty was still roped off with blue and white plastic tape. Despite the drizzle a small group of onlookers stood in the car park of the Headland Social Club. Mostly old men with pitmen’s coughs. One of them was blind and had his arm linked with that of his companions who provided a running commentary on the proceedings. Not that there was much now to comment on.
    A blue