That said, Dixon was only really interested in the residents at the time of the fire at the Palace Hotel.
And there it was, or rather there they were.
14 Richmond Close.
DNA sample taken: 3 Nov.
Result: Inconclusive.
Sample destroyed at subject’s request: tick.
Louise must have spotted the smile creeping across Dixon’s face. ‘It’s easy to see what happened,’ she said. ‘Baby dies, bereaved mother buries his body on that waste ground and then snatches poor Patrick Hudson the night of the fire. As you said, opportunistic. A straight swap. Who’s going to know with a baby at three months?’
‘The father.’
‘There’ll be a reason why he didn’t.’ Louise frowned. ‘I wonder why the Torquay lot didn’t get a parental match when they did the DNA testing, though?’
‘That’s easy,’ replied Dixon. ‘When she was asked to provide a sample, she sent her son along to give it.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A gravel drive curved away to a red-brick pile, not that Louise would call it that. It could have been an office in a different setting, with blinds at the windows rather than curtains, and without the Virginia creeper, perhaps. It was growing up the wall of the octagonal living room that overlooked ornate gardens sloping down to a terrace, where an outdoor swimming pool was hidden under a cover.
No garage, which seemed odd for a property of this size, and it certainly wasn’t a cottage, despite the name.
Louise drew breath.
‘Don’t say it,’ said Dixon, not really needing a valuation.
Even the gravel looked new, and he’d be picking it out of the tyres of his Land Rover for weeks.
‘Can I help you?’ The woman had appeared from around the side of a single-storey extension on the left, a long dining table visible through the window. Dixon had quickly lost count of the chairs.
Mid-fifties, waxed coat, wellies, gardening gloves, a pair of secateurs in one hand and a large tub of rose clippings in the other.
More vehicles had turned into the drive behind Dixon: a patrol car, followed by Mark and Sarah if all had gone to plan. He didn’t turn to look.
‘What’s going on?’ asked the woman, her voice shrill. ‘Who are you? And why are the police here?’
‘Shall we go inside?’ asked Dixon. ‘Unless you want your neighbours to overhear.’
‘We don’t have any neighbours.’
‘In that case, we’ll do it right here. Mrs Diana Hope-Bruce, I am arresting you on suspicion of the abduction of Patrick Hudson. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.’
First the secateurs, then the large tub fell to the ground, rolling on to its side, scattering leaves and clippings on the gravel.
‘Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
Her head bowed, breathing heavily through her nose. Then she looked up, fixing Dixon with piercing blue eyes. ‘You know, it’s almost a relief, after all these years. Let’s get it over with.’ Hands outstretched in front of her, wrists together ready for the handcuffs.
The shouting had started in the back of the patrol car, the mention of Scientific Services and the search team setting her off.
‘There’s a lot of highly confidential business documents in the office. Commercially sensitive.’ Dixon slammed the rear passenger door, reducing the volume a bit. ‘The filing cabinets are locked. You do not have my permission to break them open.’
The uniformed officer in the driver’s seat tried his best to calm her down, in the end driving off mid-sentence.
‘And I don’t want muddy boots on my carpet—’
Dixon could see why. They were white, a sure sign there was no dog in the house – two life-sized bronze statues of Afghan hounds either side of the fireplace in the dining room didn’t count. He’d been expecting something to pounce when he opened the back door.
White leather furniture, white tiled floor, white walls; it looked more like a dentist’s surgery.
‘What are we looking for, Sir?’ asked Sarah, following Dixon and Louise into the hall.
‘There’s a bloody cinema through here,’ said Mark, using his phone to illuminate a room with no windows. ‘There’s even tiered seating like you get at the bloody Odeon.’
‘She’s been arrested on suspicion of abduction, so anything relevant to that. She’s also now our prime suspect in the murders of the bridge team.’
‘I’ll brief Scientific.’ Louise was watching through the window as a large van pulled in next to Dixon’s Land Rover.
A woman’s most treasured possessions would be kept in her bedroom. He wasn’t an expert on women by any means, but he knew that much.
‘This must be her handbag,’ said Sarah, holding up a black leather bag in a latex-gloved hand. ‘It’s got her phone in it.’
Mark was looking out of the back window. ‘There’s a pond and a swimming pool,’ he said. ‘Best not get pissed and muddle them up.’
