Lost Hours

by Alex Walters

  ‘You should try interviewing witnesses,’ Annie said. ‘It’s so easy to end up remembering what feel you ought to remember.’

  ‘He definitely seemed in a hurry, though. He even turned down the offer of a second drink, which wasn’t like Keith. He said he had to be somewhere else later.’

  ‘He didn’t say where?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure that’s all he said. He left fairly abruptly, though. Again, not typical of Keith.’

  ‘All useful stuff. I’ll have to get someone to take a formal witness statement from you. Assuming Stuart doesn’t throw me off the case after this.’

  ‘Is that likely?’

  ‘All too probable, I’d say. He’s already getting jittery about it.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  Annie was hovering by the door, ready to leave now. ‘He has a point, I suppose. I mean, there’s no real conflict of interest that I can see. But once the media pick up on the links between Chalmers, you and me, then there’s a risk that I start to become the story. It all just becomes a lot messier.’

  ‘And I thought party politics was convoluted.’

  ‘There you go. Right, I’d best be off. Don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep you posted as best I can.’

  * * *

  As Annie turned the final corner on the road leading down to Michelle Wentworth’s house, her headlights swept across the walls and gateway, illuminating the eerie tableau before the gates. There was the usual pulse of blue lights from the patrol car that had been first on the scene, the shapes of the officers caught between her lights and those from the gate, and the dark shadow on the ground before them, all set in front of the tall arch of the gateway as if part of some unearthly tableau.

  She pulled up at the side of the road and climbed out into the mild night air. It seemed that, apart from the initial two uniforms, she was the first on the scene. Annie had called to update Zoe on her way over. Zoe had insisted on coming out and would be here in due course, though Annie was unsure what either of them could really do until the CSIs had examined the scene and the body, other than talking to Michelle Wentworth.

  The two officers had done a decent job of sealing off the scene, and they’d also placed warning signs further back up the road on the off-chance that some other vehicle might come down here at this time of the night. As far as Annie was aware, the road led nowhere beyond Wentworth’s house except to a stretch of open moorland with parking for walkers, so the likelihood of any accidental visitors at this time of night seemed low.

  The two PCs were unknown to her, so she waved her warrant card in their direction. ‘Evening. DI Annie Delamere.’

  One of the two stepped forward to greet her. ‘Evening. Glad to have someone else turn up. Jason here’s scared of the dark and he was beginning to freak me out.’

  ‘Ignore him,’ the other one said. ‘Pleased to meet you. Jason Vance. This is Tom Garstang. He’s the one freaked out by a dead body.’

  They were both young, Annie told herself, and she supposed they had to find some way of passing the time between them. ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘About three-quarters of an hour,’ Vance said. ‘We were over in Bakewell when the call came in so not far away. Mind you, it took us a few minutes to find this place. Back of beyond, isn’t it?’ He had a fairly strong local accent, which Annie placed as being from somewhere in or around Chesterfield. For all their banter, both seemed enthusiastic enough, not obviously too fazed by forty-five minutes of standing in the dark with a corpse.

  ‘You wouldn’t stumble on the place by accident,’ Garstang said. ‘Why would anyone dump a body here?’

  ‘That’s the question,’ Annie said. She assumed that Garstang was either unaware of Justin Wentworth’s murder, or at least hadn’t made the link with the location. ‘One of you checked his ID?’

  ‘That was me,’ Vance said. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t really thinking. Shouldn’t have disturbed the scene.’

  ‘Don’t imagine there’s much harm done. Assume you didn’t move the body?’

  Vance shook his head perhaps a shade too vigorously. ‘No, of course not. I’m not stupid.’ He glared at Garstang, as if to defy him an opportunity to challenge this assertion. ‘I just did a quick check of his jacket pockets and found his wallet. I’ve bagged that up properly now.’

  ‘And you’re sure it’s Keith Chalmers?’ The body’s head was turned away from her so she couldn’t see the face, although the clothing and the build of the body were in line with the short description Sheena had given her.

  ‘That’s what it said. Is he known to us then?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ Annie said. ‘He’s a trade union guy. Fairly high-profile locally.’

  Garstang nodded. ‘I thought I recognised the name from somewhere. He was on the local news. Talking about that strike over in Matlock. The car damage thing.’

  Vance frowned. ‘Blimey. And he ends up like this.’

  Somewhere beyond the trees above them, Annie saw a flash of what she took to be the headlights from an approaching vehicle. She turned back to Garstang and Vance. ‘What happened to Michelle Wentworth?’

  ‘The woman who lives here, you mean? Jesus, must have been a shock for her. She was still out here waiting when we arrived, just on the other side of the gates. I took her back in and checked she was okay. I’d have been having kittens but she seemed cool enough. I told her someone would go and check on her as soon as we got some backup out here.’

  ‘Did she say how she’d come to find the body at this time of night?’ The account Annie had received from the control room had been unclear, and she was intrigued by what might have lured Wentworth out to the front of the house after what had happened to Justin.

  ‘She reckons she was in the rear garden and heard the car approaching so came to see who it was.’ Vance gestured above them. ‘She was watching them on the camera up here. Saw the car come down and two people get out, but couldn’t work out what they were doing. She waited till they’d gone, then came out and found this.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s what she said, anyway.’

  It sounded plausible enough, Annie thought. The CCTV on the gate would show the same thing if it was the truth. You’d hear a car approaching from miles away at night in this place. The only question was how Wentworth had had the bottle to come right out here to the gate. But Annie suspected that, in one way or another, Wentworth was an even tougher character than she appeared.

  In one respect, Annie supposed, Chalmers’ death would be useful to Wentworth. It removed someone who’d been an effective thorn in her side on the Matlock contract and elsewhere. Chalmers would be replaced, but probably by someone with less skill and experience.

  Even so, that was a pretty thin motive for murder. And, if Wentworth had been responsible for Chalmers’ killing, why on earth would she have the body dumped almost literally on her own doorstep? That would constitute an audacious double-bluff, even by Michelle Wentworth’s no doubt bold standards.

  But why would anyone want to kill Keith Chalmers? He’d made a few enemies over the years, but it was a big step from industrial conflict to murder. And he’d presumably been dumped here for a reason. If Justin Wentworth’s killing had been intended as some kind of threat or warning, what was the purpose behind this? On the face of it, it made no sense.

  She blinked as a set of headlights swept around the corner of the road. The white CSI van pulled up behind her own car, and Danny Eccles’ substantial figure climbed out. He ambled his way down to her with the air of someone preparing to join a bunch of mates in the pub. ‘Back here again, Annie? This is getting to be a habit.’

  ‘The one with the habit seems to be whoever’s dumping dead bodies at Michelle Wentworth’s house.’

  ‘She does seem to attract them, doesn’t she?’ Eccles peered over the police tape at the huddled body. ‘Assume this one wasn’t killed here?’

  ‘Well, that’s for you to confirm, Danny. But looks most likely that he was
killed elsewhere and then dropped here. Michelle Wentworth saw the car arrive and depart on her CCTV.’

  ‘What time was this?’ Eccles asked, still staring at the body as if it might reveal its secrets even before he approached it.

  ‘Just over an hour ago, probably,’ Garstang sad. ‘That was when we picked up the call, anyway. We were in Bakewell, so we were probably here in ten minutes or so.’

  ‘I understand our man is Keith Chalmers, trade unionist of this parish?’ Eccles glanced at the two uniformed officers. ‘You two chancers checked his ID?’

  Vance reddened and exchanged a glance with Garstang. ‘Sorry, that was me. I was thinking…’

  ‘Don’t let it happen again, son,’ Eccles said. ‘But I won’t tell anyone if Annie here doesn’t. Probably doesn’t matter too much, given that he’s just been dumped from the back of a car.’ He straightened up and stretched, as if just waking up. ‘Okay, I’ll get my gear out of the car and get everything set up. It’s a fairly small area to control but I’d like you two lads to stick around just in case we get any unwanted visitors. You can kick your heels for a bit, Annie.’

  ‘I’m going to take the opportunity to speak to Michelle Wentworth.’ Annie tuned as yet another set of headlights swung round the corner. ‘Ah, here’s Zoe,’ she said. ‘She always did have immaculate timing.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Zoe stopped and looked around as they walked down the driveway. ‘Beautiful spot in the daytime. Bit creepy at this time of night, I reckon.’

  She wasn’t wrong, Annie thought. The bulk of the converted labourers’ cottages that formed the main structure of Wentworth’s house stood ahead of them, its stone walls and the vast looming angles of the roof looking unexpectedly ancient in the pale moonlight. The gardens and shrubbery around them, which were ordered and picturesque by daylight, now appeared to be teeming with threatening shadows. She watched as Zoe took a look behind her and seemed to shiver. ‘You okay, Zo?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Just slightly spooked for a second. Not sure why. Not been sleeping all that well the last few nights. It’s too warm.’

  ‘Tell me about it. It’s so airless.’

  ‘One reason I wasn’t sorry to come over here tonight, to be honest. Give Gary a chance to get some sleep. He’s usually out like a light if he doesn’t have me there keeping him awake.’

  Annie watched Zoe for a second longer, wondering whether this might be a return of whatever had been troubling her earlier in the year. But, as she’d told Stuart Jennings, all Annie could do was keep an eye on Zoe and be ready to offer support if there was any recurrence.

  They reached the front door and Annie pressed the bell. There was silence for several minutes, and Annie felt her anxiety growing. There was still too much about this case they didn’t understand, and she had no idea to what extent Wentworth herself might be at risk.

  Finally, the door opened, still on the chain. Michelle Wentworth stared at them for a moment as if doubtful of their identities, and then finally closed and reopened the door to allow them entry. ‘You’d best come through.’

  Annie had the feeling that Wentworth had turned on every light in the house, as if trying to banish whatever might be lurking outside. She looked paler and more worn than she had earlier in the evening.

  It occurred to Annie now that PC Vance had made no mention of Peter Hardy. Annie had assumed, if only because of Hardy’s usual omnipresence during her visits, that he had been staying here to help support Wentworth over recent days, but there was no sign of him tonight.

  Michelle Wentworth lowered herself on to one of the sofas and Annie and Zoe sat themselves opposite her. Annie noticed a half-finished bottle of an expensive-looking single malt on the table between them, with an empty but clearly used glass beside it.

  ‘I think I recognised him,’ Wentworth said, her voice flat. ‘Keith Chalmers.’

  ‘It looks like it,’ Annie said. ‘Subject to confirmation, obviously. But there’s ID on the body.’

  ‘Why would anyone want to kill Keith Chalmers?’ Wentworth said.

  It was a good question, but perhaps not the first one that Annie might have expected Wentworth to ask. A more pertinent question, from Wentworth’s point of view, was why, having been killed, Chalmers’ body had been dumped here. ‘How well did you know Mr Chalmers?’

  There was a slightly prolonged silence. ‘Me?’ Wentworth said. ‘Only a little. I mean, we’ve sat on opposite sides of the table once or twice when we’ve had employee relations difficulties on some of the major contracts. But even that wasn’t often because I used to delegate most of that.’ She gave them a weak smile. ‘Union negotiations aren’t really my thing. I’m too prone to losing my temper and telling the other side exactly what I think, so my guys have to kick me under the table. I usually leave them to people with a bit more patience.’

  ‘So do you have any idea why the body might have been placed here?’ Annie asked.

  ‘I’ve no idea at all. It makes no sense.’

  ‘Have you had any dealings with Mr Chalmers recently? You directly, I mean.’

  Wentworth blinked and there was another momentary pause before she responded. ‘Not directly. I understand he was involved in the dispute in Matlock, but I’d largely left that to the local management there to deal with.’

  ‘Otherwise, you didn’t meet with Mr Chalmers yourself?’

  ‘I don’t really understand where you’re going with these questions,’ Wentworth said. ‘It sounds almost as if you’re trying to accuse me of killing Chalmers.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘I’m just trying to understand why the body might have been left here. As you say, on the face of things it makes no sense. I’m just trying to find out if there might have been some reason for it, however unlikely or far-fetched.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can help,’ Wentworth said. ‘It’s as baffling to me as it is to you. I’ve never met Chalmers except a few times in a business context, as I say. The only dealings I’ve had with him recently have been indirect. From the limited contact I’ve had with him, he seemed okay – straightforward, pretty pragmatic, easier to deal with than some union officials. Not a pushover, but generally sensible. I don’t know that I can say much more than that.’

  ‘What about the incident in Matlock?’ Zoe asked. ‘Do you think the union were behind that? Your site manager there seemed to imply he thought so.’

  Wentworth glared at Zoe for a moment. ‘I’ve had a word with Roger about the interview he gave to the Evening Telegraph. It was well intentioned and Roger was feeling irritated when he gave it, but it didn’t reflect the company’s position. I don’t know who was responsible for damaging the car, though I’m rather hoping your people will find out. But I’m very happy to accept that that kind of action wasn’t something encouraged or condoned by the trade union.’ She sounded as if she was reading a prepared statement, Annie thought. Perhaps it was something she’d had ready for if the media had taken the story further. ‘In fact, come to think of it, Keith Chalmers actually phoned both me and Roger to apologise on the union’s behalf. That must have been the last time I spoke to him, and it was probably the first time I had in more than a year. We only talked for a few minutes. I just reassured him that we didn’t hold the union responsible and that we’d put the matter in the hands of the police.’

  Annie felt as if they were coming to a dead end in exploring Wentworth’s links with Chalmers. ‘Can you just run us through what you saw tonight? You went out the front because you’d heard an approaching car, is that right?’

  ‘I didn’t go out,’ Wentworth corrected. ‘Not after what happened to Justin. But you can always tell if there’s a car coming up to the house. There’s never any other traffic up here at night, so if there is a car there’s only one place it’s going. I couldn’t imagine anyone I knew would have come up without calling first, so I was a bit unnerved.’

  ‘Brave of you to go and look,’ Annie said. ‘I’m not sure I’d have had the nerve.’r />
  ‘I wasn’t exactly feeling brave. I had my finger poised to dial 999, but I thought I’d better check it out first. So I stayed in the house and watched the CCTV. I couldn’t see much. They drove down, stopped in front of the gate and then – well, presumably they pulled the body out of the car. It could only have taken them a couple of minutes. Then they reversed and drove away at a fair lick. You can check the footage, but I’d be surprised if you got much from it. They were careful to park the car close to the gate and in a position where the camera wouldn’t pick up the car reg. I couldn’t even make out any details of the car or really see what they were doing.’

  ‘We’ll have some of our experts look at the footage. See if they can pick out anything else. Suggests they knew about the positioning of the camera. Do you have any feel for who might be in a position to know about the cameras? Around the house generally, I mean, as well as the gates.’

  ‘You’re thinking about where Justin was attacked as well?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Annie said, noting that not much escaped Wentworth’s attention. ‘Whoever was responsible managed to select a spot that was outside the camera range, and also managed to reach the house without being detected. Suggests they knew where the cameras are.’

  ‘The layout’s not exactly public knowledge,’ Wentworth said. ‘But I guess it wouldn’t have been that difficult to check out. The cameras are mostly visible. There are always one or two cars passing the gate at the weekends, particularly in summer. People park up at the bottom of the lane to go walking on the moors. Nothing I can do to stop that, but it does mean that in the daytime someone could have got up to the gate without me getting suspicious. The cameras on the house are trickier, but you could probably see most of them from outside my property if you used binoculars.’

  ‘I’m conscious you must be tired,’ Annie said. ‘We won’t take up any more of your time tonight. Are you okay to be here alone? We can stay until you get someone over, if you prefer.’