Parting of the Waves Read online

  Neither had chance to sit down as almost immediately the door of “Interview 4” opened and they found themselves looking at a familiar face.

  “Inspector Addison!” Bridget exclaimed after the other occupant of the room had made his departure. “What are you doing here?” she added before realising what a stupid question she’d asked of a police officer, in a police station.

  “Detective Chief Inspector Addison now if you don’t mind madam” he replied with a laugh.

  “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise” said a flustered Bridget.

  “I’m only joking Bridget. There’s no reason you should have known, not unless you’re a regular reader of our website of course”, the Chief Inspector added with a grin. “Jim” he said, turning to DS Blackthorn, “give me a few minutes with these two please, oh and see if you can rustle up some tea and biscuits too.”

  “Coming right up sir” replied the sergeant as he strode off purposefully back down the corridor.

  Inspector Mark Addison, as he was then, had been based in Whytecliffe-on-Sea at the time of the incidents involving Maggie and had headed up the investigations. Gil and Bridget soon came to recognise him as a thoroughly trustworthy officer who had the unique gift of managing to be appear both steely and approachable at the same time. Although she wouldn’t have admitted it or even acknowledged it, Bridget had fallen a little bit in love with Mark Addison.”

  “Come on in, make yourselves comfortable” said the Chief Inspector as he ushered Gil and Bridget into the interview room. “Or at least as comfortable as you can on these blasted plastic chairs.”

  “So congratulations are in order then Chief Inspector, when did this come about?” Gil asked as he sat down.

  “Oh, just over three months ago now so I’m still very much the new boy around here. Jenny and I thought that if I was to have a go at promotion, we should do it while the girls were still in infants school. Jenny managed to get a transfer to a local school too so it’s all worked out very well. Although I’ve got a great team around me here, I have to admit I miss not getting out of the nick quite as much as I used to, but on the plus side I get someone to make my tea for me!”

  “Well I’m sure it’s very well deserved” said Bridget, flushing slightly

  “Thank you Bridget, that’s very kind of you. So what brings you two to this neck of the woods?”

  Between them, Gil and Bridget told the Chief Inspector of their meeting with the Cresswells on the ferry and of Bridget’s concerns about “Sheila”.

  “Well the team will certainly be very interested to hear that, won’t they Jim?” the Chief Inspector said to his sergeant who had by now returned with a tray of tea and biscuits.

  “Indeed we will sir.”

  “Well it’s been good to see you both again. I’ve got a meeting I need to be at so I’ll leave you in DS Blackthorn’s capable hands. Oh and Jim, Bridget here could teach Miss Marple a thing or two so don’t try to tie her up in knots or you’ll come off second best!”

  “Thanks for the warning sir!” DS Blackthorn replied with a grin as the Chief Inspector left the room.

  “Ok” the officer said as he picked up a pen and paper. “So if you could start from the beginning and tell me everything about your encounter on the ferry with Malcolm Cresswell and the woman that accompanied him.”

  It took well over an hour to cover every detail and to answer DS Blackthorn’s detailed questions. “So if you’re both happy with your statements, please sign and date them on every page where indicated.”

  “Is that everything Detective Sergeant?” Gil asked.

  “Yes for now Mr Honeyman. Of course if things come to trial we will of course be in touch with you. But for now, that’s it. So thank you for taking the time to bring your concerns to our attention. It’s very much appreciated. If you follow me, I’ll take you back to reception.”

  “Thank you” said Bridget “but will you update us with how the investigation is going? I would be very interested to know if our information has been useful.”

  “I’m sorry Miss Honeyman, the details of the investigation are confidential. But if there are any significant developments, they will be relayed to the press in the usual manner.”

  “Ok, I understand, it’s just that Inspector Addison, I mean Chief Inspector Addison always used to….”

  Afraid that Bridget was about to reveal that Inspector Addison had probably over-stepped the bounds of confidentiality by giving them regular updates into how the investigation into Maggie’s attacker was proceeding, Gil interrupted her.

  “I think what my sister means Detective Sergeant is that Inspector Addison, as he was then, was very helpful in keeping us informed of any developments which affected us directly. We understand that things are different this time.”

  “I am aware of the Margaret Thomas case. Naturally, on that occasion you and Mrs Thomas were victims of a crime, whereas now you are witnesses to an incident which may or may not be a crime. That’s the difference.”

  “We fully understand that Detective Sergeant, don’t we Bridge? Gil said looking intently at her.

  “Yes of course.” Bridget replied, not without some irritation in her voice.

  “Ok, that’s cleared that up. So if you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you out” said the sergeant politely.

  As soon as they were back in the car-park, Gil prepared himself for the onslaught which he knew was to come. So figuring that the best method of defence was attack, he bravely took the initiative.

  “Look, before you say anything Bridge, I know you were annoyed in there when I interrupted you. I just thought you were going to say…”

  “I know full well what you thought I was going to say Gil but please credit me with more sense than that. I know that Inspector Addison or whatever he’s called these days told us much more than he should have done and he put his job on the line by doing so. But he did it as he trusted us not to divulge what he told us to anyone. He knew what we were going through and as it was such a personal crime he understood our need to know about events that affected us. I would never have betrayed his trust then or now. So unless you’ve got any more accusations ready to hurl, I suggest we just go home.”

  Gil had a response ready but thought better of it. He started the engine and they drove home. In silence.

  Chapter Six

  Although the atmosphere between Bridget and Gil remained somewhat frosty, it was nevertheless an improvement on icy, which had been the state of things for most of Saturday. Bridget was therefore relieved when Gil announced on Sunday morning that he would be spending a few hours at the garage. She hoped that some time out of each other’s hair would lead to a thaw, although she was damned if she was going to make the first move. If she had known that Gil felt exactly the same, she wouldn’t have felt quite so optimistic.

  Bridget spent most of the morning catching up with chores, which took longer than she had anticipated. So instead of their usual Sunday roast, which would have necessitated a trip to the shops on the Esplanade, Bridget defrosted a chicken casserole from the freezer. Feeling she needed to lose some weight after comparing herself very unfavourably to the sylph-like Helen Faulkner, Bridget decided there would be no dessert, well not for herself at any rate. If Gil was still hungry after the casserole, there were plenty of apples in the fruit bowl. Just as she was deciding how to fill the rest of her day, the phone rang causing Bridget to jump out of her skin and her heart to start beating like a sledge-hammer.

  “Oh good morning Chief Inspector” Bridget said somewhat breathlessly as she replied to Mark Addison’s rather terse greeting.

  “Good morning Bridget, have you been running? You sound out of breath?”

  Running? She thought to herself, with my figure! Rather than let him think she was out of condition, Bridget said the first thing that came into her head. “No, I’ve just been doing a few warming up exercises, I might pop out for a gentle jog later, nothing too strenuous you understand.” Why on earth d
id you say that, she told herself, who are you trying to kid you stupid, stupid woman! She could feel herself blushing at her own lies.

  “Well done you, it’s good to keep as active as possible isn’t it. None of us are getting any younger sadly. I try to fit in a 5k a couple of times a week if I can, work permitting of course. If I’d known you were a runner when I lived in Whytecliffe we could have done a circuit or two together.”

  “Yes, that would have been, er, very nice” Bridget lied, cursing herself for getting into an even deeper hole. Desperate to change the subject she continued “so what can I do for you Chief Inspector? You must be very busy if you’re working on a Sunday morning.”

  “Yes I’d much rather be at home with the morning papers and a cup of coffee but we’ve got a spate of burglaries over on the Elms estate. Just low level stuff at the moment but we’re working all hours to stamp it out before it escalates. You know how it is.”

  Bridget had no idea how it was at all but could hazard a guess.

  “There’s something I would like to talk to you about” the Chief Inspector continued, “and Gil of course, so I wondered if I could call in. I’m due to give evidence at Whytecliffe Magistrate’s Court tomorrow afternoon, so how would late morning suit you?”

  “Yes that would be fine, Gil and I will both be here” Bridget replied, intrigued as to what it was he wanted to speak to them about. Clearly he hadn’t wanted to talk about it over the phone, so she didn’t push him to explain.

  “Great, see you both then. I’ll bring my kit in case you fancy a run, if we’ve got time of course.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” She put the phone down and mentally kicked herself. “Bridget Honeyman you’ve got yourself into some scrapes over the years but this one takes the biscuit” she said out loud. “Now what am I going to do?” Praying for rain was the only answer she could think of.

  *

  Bridget was up early the next morning to plan something for lunch. She hadn’t asked the Chief Inspector if he would like to eat with them but she felt certain he would welcome a light meal before giving evidence. Just the thought of having to stand in that witness box would be enough to give me indigestion though she thought. Bridget hoped poached salmon, new potatoes and garden peas followed by fresh fruit salad would help to calm his nerves. Not that he would have any of course, she told herself, he must have done this dozens of times in his career.

  Bridget was relieved that peace reigned once more in the Honeyman household. Gil had returned from the garage the previous day in a much happier mood so Bridget was more than willing to bury the hatchet.

  “So what’s this all about do you think?” Gil asked as he joined his sister for breakfast later.

  “I’ve absolutely no idea but it must have something to do with the missing woman. I can’t think it could be about anything else, can you?”

  “Not really, but I’m curious all the same. What time is he arriving?”

  “He said late morning, so I’m guessing not before eleven. I hope not anyway, I need to have a shower and wash my hair after I’ve made the fruit salad.”

  “I can make a start on the salad if you like. So you go and have your shower.”

  “Thanks Gil, you’re an angel.”

  “Oh by the way, there’s something I need to tell you about my conversation with the Chief Inspector yesterday, just in case he mentions it. I think I may have given him the impression that I ran, or rather jogged regularly, so if he brings it up, just go along with what I say.”

  Gil couldn’t reply as he was doubled up with laughter. Thankfully the knife he was using to slice the pineapple wasn’t too sharp as he might be missing a few fingers.

  Bridget had just finished drying her hair when the doorbell rang just before eleven thirty.

  “Come in Chief Inspector” she said with a broad smile as she opened the front door.

  “Hmm, something smells nice he replied, sniffing the air.

  “I hope you can join us for lunch, I didn’t like the thought of you being grilled by some horrible defence lawyer on an empty stomach.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you Bridget and I certainly have no intention of turning down an opportunity to sample your delicious food.”

  Bridget led the Chief Inspector into the kitchen where Gil was about to open a bottle of white wine.

  “Hi there Gil, I won’t have any of that if you don’t mind, I think I’d best keep a clear head.”

  “Of course Chief Inspector, we understand.”

  “Maybe we’d all better stick to water Gil” Bridget said turning to her brother. “At least until we’ve heard what the Chief Inspector has to say.” Gil reluctantly returned the bottle to the fridge.

  “Well first of all, let’s dispense with all this “Chief Inspector” nonsense, it’s a bit of a mouthful. So please, call me Mark.”

  “Ok, so er, Mark, would you like to take a seat” Bridget said, flushing slightly at the new-found familiarity.

  The trio ate in comparative silence, broken only by Mark’s murmurings of delight as he cleared his plate.

  “That was delicious Bridget, thank you very much” he said as he wiped his mouth.

  “It was only something simple, but I’m pleased you enjoyed it all the same.

  “You’re talking to a man who can’t boil the proverbial egg so anything more complicated than that is fine-dining in my book.”

  After the fruit salad, Bridget suggested they take their coffee into the living-room.

  “Ok, I think I need to get on to what I wanted to talk to you about” Mark said, glancing at his watch. “It’s about the Cresswells. Now as you are aware, I have been known to share the odd snippet of information with you both that should have remained confidential. This is because I value your insight Bridget, but, more importantly because I trust you both to keep our discussions to yourselves.”

  “You have no fears on that count Chief Insp.., er, Mark I mean” Gil said.

  “Thanks Gil, I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise. So here’s where we are. On the face of it, Sheila Cresswell disappeared from the 20.30 sailing from Calais to Dover on Friday the tenth of October, exactly as her husband Malcolm described. When someone is reported as missing overboard from a ship or ferry there is always an investigation until it can be concluded which of three options prevailed.” Mark held up his fingers one at a time as he listed them. “One, did they fall, two, did they jump or three, were they pushed.”

  “In the Sheila Cresswell case, there was nothing which gave us any reason not to accept Malcolm Cresswell’s account of what happened. He was clearly distraught when we interviewed him after the ship docked and he urged us to keep searching for his wife when it was by then completely dark. Their son Jamie arrived at the port within the hour and their daughter Rachel, who works in London, arrived in the early hours of the morning. They were as distraught as their father and I must admit that in all my years in the force, it was one of the most distressing scenes I’ve ever witnessed.”

  “Those poor children” Bridget said, shaking her head. “Whatever happened, they don’t seem to have been in on it.”

  “I agree, if they were, they need to be nominated for an Oscar. Even so, as is routine in these cases, we carried out a preliminary examination of the Cresswell’s financial situation. We look at whether Malcolm Cresswell had recently upped his wife’s life insurance cover or had taken out a new policy. We drew a blank. We did the same with their bank accounts which reflected what we would have expected to see in the case of two people who both took early retirement recently. There was nothing to arouse our suspicions at all. So until you two came in and threw the cat amongst the pigeons” Mark added with a wry smile “we had virtually ruled out options two and three.”

  “I’m so sorry Mark but if all of the evidence points at Malcolm Cresswell telling the truth, then maybe we, or rather I, was wrong. It was me that noticed that the woman in the paper wasn’t the same woman we spoke to on the ferry. G
il was sat alongside her so didn’t get such a good look at her as I did. He just went along with what I said because he trusts my judgement, bless him” Bridget said as she glanced across at her brother.

  “Don’t doubt yourself Bridge, I stand by what I said at the time. If you say it wasn’t the same woman, then I’d put the house on it” Gil replied.

  “Thanks Gil” Bridget replied, patting her brother’s hand. Turning to Mark, Bridget continued “one thing you haven’t mentioned Mark (Bridget managed to mention his name this time without blushing) is CCTV. Was there any or wasn’t it conclusive?”

  “Surprisingly, there’s very little CCTV on cross-channel ferries and what there is usually concentrated around the duty-free shops and bars. Much of the open-deck areas are not covered by the cameras.”

  “But that’s ridiculous” Gil said. “I would have thought the deck areas would have to be covered by law. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of someone falling overboard and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

  “I totally agree with you Gil, but we are where we are I’m afraid. We’ve looked at the CCTV footage from the Queen of Dover of course and while we’ve picked up both Malcolm and Sheila Cresswell on the outward leg of their journey, frustratingly there’s not one sighting of either of them on the return leg.”

  “Typical” said Gil with a grunt. “The wonders of modern technology. More coffee anyone?” he asked, jumping up.

  As Gil disappeared into the kitchen to make fresh coffee, Bridget brought up the question that Heather had first raised about whether Sheila Cresswell had in fact boarded the ferry in Calais at all.

  “Yes we have definitive proof that she did. Not just from the ferry company’s records, but photographic evidence too” Mark replied.

  “But I thought you said there wasn’t any CCTV pictures on the return journey” said a puzzled-looking Bridget.

  “Sorry, I should have explained that although we don’t have any CCTV images, photographs of each vehicle that board the ferry are taken automatically. They’re then displayed throughout the ship for passengers to purchase if they wish. We have an image of Sheila Cresswell, or should I say the woman who called herself Sheila Cresswell, sitting in the front seat of their Renault Cleo alongside Malcolm Cresswell. By the way there’s a lovely photo of you two on the outward journey, you seem to be looking daggers at Gil Bridget” Mark added with a laugh.