Page 98 of Guilty Mothers
‘Even if she confirms the mole, you don’t want me to tell her that her child is alive?’ Stacey asked.
‘No way. We’ve got to get our ducks in a row on this one. It’s growing more complex by the hour. Got it?’
‘On it,’ Stacey said before ending the call. She’d considered updating the boss on the progress of her alibi checking, but she needed one last piece of data.
From the information she had, she couldn’t account for the whereabouts of Toyah either during the murders of Sheryl Hawne or Sally-Ann Davis.
Her final search would be the CCTV for the night of Andrea’s murder, and the footage had just come into her inbox.
She opened the file that matched the search parameters she’d given, the period from 10.45p.m. to 11.15p.m. Toyah’s statement read that she left the pub around eleven. Evidence of her leaving then would certainly rule her out. By that time, her mother had already been dead.
The pub was an old-fashioned establishment, and the camera above the exit looked down a corridor leading to the toilets, a main bar and a smaller room often called a snug. The corridor was the route to everywhere as well as the fire exit at the end of the hallway, meaning you couldn’t leave the place without being caught on this camera.
Stacey allowed the video to play and saw people going in and out of the toilets, crossing rooms carrying pints of beer, others heading out front for a quick smoke with their last half before closing time.
Around ten minutes into the footage, the mass exodus began as people streamed into the corridor, shrugging themselves into their jackets, reaching into pockets for their car keys. A steady throng of people passed beneath the camera to head home, but so far Toyah Shaw wasn’t one of them.
A couple of minutes of nothing passed before the owner appeared with his keys behind two men. He was nodding and agreeing with whatever they were saying as he shepherded the stragglers to the front door, which he locked and bolted behind them.
No sign of Toyah on any of the footage she’d viewed, which brought one question to the front of Stacey’s mind.
Had they overlooked the person who had been their poster child for pageants all week?
SIXTY-FIVE
Kim was still thinking about the photos she’d seen of Katie when Bryant pulled up in front of the dress shop in Bewdley.
‘If we’re right, it explains why Sheryl never took Katie to nationals,’ Bryant said, revealing that it had been on his mind too.
‘Yep, she’d have been avoiding any national press,’ Kim said, wondering how deeply that must have niggled Sheryl, being unable to step into the spotlight for fear of being discovered.
She’d passed the info on to Stacey, and at this point there was no more she could do. She had a murderer to catch, and she couldn’t help wondering if she was about to have a second conversation with him.
The expression on the face of Kelvin Hobbs was guarded when they walked through the door. With good reason.
‘Officers,’ he said.
She noted that today his sewing machine was empty.
‘You don’t appear to have been totally honest with us, Mr Hobbs,’ she offered as a greeting.
‘About what?’ he asked like a man with more than one secret, who didn’t want to fess up to the wrong one.
‘Well, let’s start with your reasons for leaving the pageant circuit. We understand that you didn’t have a lot of choice.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘It was Jenna, wasn’t it?’
‘Was she lying?’
He waited a good ten seconds before answering. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do what they said.’
‘So why didn’t you stand up for yourself?’ Bryant asked.
‘Because Sheryl hit me where it hurt. My sexuality.’