Geraldine looked back to the man through the hatch, and he nodded.
She led them through the packed shelves to a small door which opened out into an equally cramped stockroom with a table and chairs and a small sink with a kettle.
‘We’re sorry about Lacey,’ said Erika when they were settled at the table. ‘You two were close.’
Geraldine shifted in her chair and shrugged.
‘Two minutes ago, you told us you were best friends?’ added Moss.
‘We were. Off and on. It was complicated.’
‘We know you had a relationship. We found the polaroid photos hidden in a photo album,’ said Moss.
‘Hidden… Sums up everything really. When Lacey went away to university, it was like she dropped me.’
‘You didn’t want to go to university?’
‘My parents couldn’t afford the tuition… But this is a good job, secure. People are always ill, aren’t they?’ Her voice tailed off wistfully.
‘What did you know about Lacey’s friendships and relationships?’ asked Erika.
‘There was me. Three or four guys at Northumberland uni. She got around a bit,’ said Geraldine disapprovingly. ‘She was a very pretty girl; that’s what pretty girls do.’
‘When did your relationship end?’ asked Moss.
‘It never really ended. Whenever she was home in the holidays, she’d get miserable and call me, and we’d meet.’
‘Where?’
‘At my house. My mum’s cool with things. I think Lacey liked that she could relax. Charlotte is highly strung, and Don is properly downtrodden.’
‘All we saw were two devastated parents,’ said Erika.
‘They airbrushed me out of Lacey’s life,’ said Geraldine, crossing her arms.
‘Did you see Lacey in the months leading up to when she went missing?’
‘Yeah. We’d picked up again, September last year.’
‘How do you mean “picked up”?’
‘Friends… friends with benefits, sometimes. But it wasn’t the same. She was focused on other things. I was just, just a pastime for her.’
‘What other things was Lacey focused on?’ asked Moss.
‘She was applying for jobs; she wanted to work for the Arts Council or for an African charity. Typical rich girl bollocks. And she’d joined a dating app in the hope of finding Mr Right.’ Geraldine winced, as if the words had tasted bitter.
‘You can’t join an app,’ said Moss. ‘You can download an app, or join a dating site.’
‘I’m not on social media. I’m just answering your questions.’
‘Do you think that’s why you lost touch? It can happen, if you’re not on social media and your friends are. So much interaction goes on through them,’ said Erika.
‘I know how they work,’ snapped Geraldine.
‘Do you think Lacey was a lesbian?’ asked Moss.
‘You are, obviously. What do you think?’ Geraldine shot back.
‘I’m asking you,’ said Moss evenly.
Geraldine shrugged. ‘I sometimes think she was put on this earth just to make me feel every emotion.’
‘You loved her?’
‘Loved her, hated her… But I wish I’d loved her more, now she’s gone… Wish I’d told her not to meet that bloke.’
Geraldine took a little packet of tissues from the pocket of her overall and took one out, blotting her eyes.
‘Which bloke?’ asked Erika, exchanging a look with Moss.
‘The last time I saw Lacey, she was asking my advice about meeting this bloke. I felt she was asking to hurt me. So I told her to go ahead.’ She wiped tears from her eyes.
Erika and Moss exchanged another look.
‘When was this?’ asked Erika.
‘Between Christmas and New Year. She’d been chatting to him online for a few weeks. He wanted them to meet. She thought he was so handsome; he just looked a bit oily to me.’
‘What do you mean? You saw his picture?’ asked Erika.
‘Yes, she showed me it on her phone.’
‘What do you mean by “oily”?’
‘Swarthy. He had black hair, slicked back black hair, and a thin face with dark features. In lots of the pictures he was stripped from the waist down.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I think that she wanted me to be jealous, so she must have still cared.’
‘When exactly was this?’ asked Erika.
‘The Monday before New Year, the thirtieth. We met for coffee. She told me she was going to meet this Nico on Wednesday.’
‘His name was Nico,’ said Erika.
Geraldine scrubbed at her eyes with the balled-up tissue. ‘I’ve tried to tell this to the police.’
‘How?’ asked Moss.
‘I dialled 999, who told me to ring 101, which I did and I left a message. That was two weeks ago,’ said Geraldine. ‘Two weeks!’
‘What about Lacey’s parents, did you mention any of this to them?’ asked Erika.
‘I called them, but Charlotte put the phone down on me.’
Erika looked at Moss; they would have to follow this up. ‘Geraldine, if we can get an e-fit artist, do you think you could help us put together a likeness of the picture you saw on Lacey’s phone of this Nico?’
‘Yes, of course… How did she die?’
‘We can’t give details, I’m sorry,’ said Erika.
‘It was violent, though, wasn’t it? The way she died?’
Erika nodded. Geraldine broke down again, and this time Moss moved to comfort her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A few hours later, Geraldine was working with an e-fit artist in the small stockroom at the back of the pharmacy. Erika was standing outside on the cold street, talking to Peterson on the phone. The sky was beginning to turn a deeper shade of grey, and the lights had come on in the window of the run-down dry cleaner next to the pharmacy.
‘Moss is on the way back to you at the nick; she’s trying to get things moving on Lacey’s laptop and phone.’
‘Do you think you’re doing any good hanging there?’ asked Peterson. He too was back at West End Central, and Erika could hear Crane’s voice in the background.
‘It’s two weeks since Lacey went missing,’ said Erika. ‘And I only heard today that her closest friend was trying to get in contact, and she’s the only person who saw a photo of the guy Lacey went to meet. If we’d had an e-fit two weeks ago, just think…’
‘There’s not much point in talking about shoulda coulda woulda.’
‘I was lucky that an artist was able to get over so fast. As soon as I have something I’ll get it emailed straight over. How are things going with the CCTV?’
‘There’s an ATM opposite the Blue Boar pub where Lacey was due to meet this Nico guy. Crane’s trying to track down if it has any footage. We’re working on the assumption that Lacey was abducted in or around the pub, so there could be other points where CCTV might have picked something up. We’re working on tracing the different routes away from the pub.’
‘Good. What about coffee bikes?’
‘I’ve been in touch with British Transport Police to see if one’s been picked up or reported stolen,’ said Peterson. Erika heard a knocking and looked up. The e-fit artist, a young dark-haired guy in his early thirties, was at the pharmacy window, beckoning her in.
‘Sorry, I have to go,’ she said.
* * *