Description’s been sent out to all stations, details are on the computer. We’ll be checking with the hospitals if she’s not turned up by morning

Natural Causes: Episode 79

Natural Causes by Fife farmer-turned-author James Oswald is the first in the Inspector Mclean series. It is published by Penguin, rrp, £7.99. Bury Them Deep, the latest in the series, is published by Headline in February, rrp £14.99.

Mclean did a mental somersault. He remembered her, dressed as a 1920s flapper girl, complete with bobbed hair. Working the till whilst Jenny was out the back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. We weren’t introduced. To be honest, I didn’t even know you were married.”

“I’m not. Chloe was . . . well, let’s just say her father was a bit of a mistake. He had his way and that’s the last we ever saw of him.

“But Chloe’s a good girl, Tony. She wouldn’t stay out late and if she was stuck somewhere she’d phone.”

Mclean tried to take the new information in his stride. Concentrate on the problem.

“What time did she go out?”

“About half eight. She had tickets to see Bill Bailey at the Assembly Rooms. They’re like gold dust, you know. She was so excited.”

“And you say she should have been back at 11.” “That’s right. I gave her taxi money. Didn’t want her walking the streets at that time of night.”

“Did she go to the show alone?”

“No, she went with a couple of school friends. But they live on the other side of town.”

“And they’re home, I take it.”

“I phoned and checked. They both got in at quarter to midnight.”

“How old is Chloe?”

Exotic

Mclean tried to imagine the girl in the shop, but her exotic costume made it hard to put an age on her. “Almost 16.”

Old enough to be out on her own. Old enough to be pushing the barriers of what she could and couldn’t do.

“You’ve contacted the police?”

Jenny nodded.

“They came round the house, filled in forms. I gave them a photograph. They even searched the shop in case she was in there hiding.”

“That’s good. It means they’re following procedure.”

Mclean poured boiling water into the mugs, added milk.

“But you have to understand that this could be no more than teenage rebellion. She might just be staying out late for the hell of it.”

“But she never does.” Jenny’s face flushed. She clenched her fists. “She’d never do anything like that.”

“I believe you. I’ll give the station a phone and see if anything’s come up.

“You should be at home, Jen. Not here. What if she’s come back and you’re not there?”

A momentary flicker of doubt passed across Jenny’s eyes, a haunted look.

“I left a note. On the kitchen table. But she hadn’t come home by one. I had to do something.”

Mclean realised that he didn’t even know where Jenny Spiers lived.

He hadn’t known about her daughter; only really knew that she had a sister who was engaged to his best friend.

If he was being honest, he didn’t know all that much about Rachel either.

He’d long since given up trying to remember all of his ex-flatmate’s students.

Only that she was the one who’d finally got the prize so many before her had failed to win.

Quite why Jenny had chosen to come to him he had no idea.

“Do you live above the shop?”

Jenny nodded again, then sniffed and wiped her nose. Mclean went through to the hall and dialled the station.

It rang for a long time before the duty sergeant finally picked up.

“DI Mclean here. You’ve had a report of a missing girl. Chloe Spiers?”

Rustling

“Aye, I reckon so. Hang on a minute.” Mclean could hear the rustling of paper in the background as the duty sergeant shuffled through the night logs.

“What’s it to you?”

“Her mother’s in my kitchen drinking coffee,” Mclean replied

“Lucky you, inspector,” came the response. “She’s quite a looker if I remember right. Ah, here we are.

“She was reported missing at 11.58pm. Nearest patrol attended the scene at 12.09am.

“A description’s been sent out to all stations, details are on the computer.

“We’ll be checking with the hospitals if she’s not turned up by morning.”

“Well do me a favour will you, Tom? Put the call out again. And if you’ve got time to, call the hospitals now.”

“OK, sir. It’s a quiet night at the moment. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Tom. I owe you one.”

“Dinner, is it sir?”

Mclean froze. “You what?”

“I believe that’s the going rate for a favour, isn’t it? Or was Miss Baird a special case?” “I...whotoldyou...?”

Mclean spluttered down the phone as the duty sergeant burst out laughing.

“How many people in the station know?”

“I’d say about all of them, sir. You did meet her at the front door, after all. And taking her to the Red Dragon?

“Bound to be one or two off-duty coppers in there most evenings, even if they’re only picking up a carryoot.”

Mclean fumed as he hung up. Bloody policemen, they could give fishwives a run for their money when it came to gossip.

Still, he considered, it probably wouldn’t do his reputation any harm.

Concerned

“Have they found her?”

Jenny’s concerned voice brought his mind back to more pressing problems.

“No. I’m sorry. But the full procedure is under way.” Mclean told her what the duty sergeant had promised to do. At the mention of hospitals she went very white.

“Could she really be?”

“I don’t think so, Jen. They’d have contacted you by now if she was in any trouble.

“It’s far more likely she hooked up with some other friends and went out on a bender.

“She’ll be home in the morning feeling awful and you can tear a strip off her then.”

But in his mind he knew he was only saying that to comfort her.

More tomorrow.