What Lies Hidden

by Fran McDonnell

  “OK.”

  “What if in your visit you just asked me about who had previously owned the house and we told you what we knew, which is not that much. Maybe I go into the garden the next day and decide to dig that pond that my wife wants for fish and I find something.”

  Isobel bit her lip. “Well, it is your garden.”

  “That’s what Sarah and I thought,” Tim said in satisfaction and rang off.

  Isobel got off the phone, wondering if she had just encouraged the Woodwards to force the police’s hand. However, her bed beckoned and she did her best to put it out of her mind.

  It was one thirty and she was exhausted. Despite this, she only slept intermittently. She dreamt of a man in black with a hat pulled over his face. He seemed sinister and Isobel ran away but he pursued her, gaining all the time until he was right behind her, reaching out to grab her. She escaped and tried to hide but he searched for her, drawing closer and closer to her.

  She woke with her heart hammering and feeling terrified. Taking deep breaths she lay back and tried to calm down. She realised that she was afraid of Thomas Banks and what he was capable of.

  Chapter 34

  Wednesday 30th May

  When the alarm went off at seven thirty Isobel woke with a pounding heart, feeling afraid. She could hear Patricia getting ready. Fifteen minutes later Patricia gave her a quick hug and, with promises to let her know when it was over, she was gone.

  Isobel washed her face and teeth and made a cup of tea. At eight o’clock she knew there was no point putting it off – she needed to talk to Dave.

  She had barely time to realise that he’d answered when he said, “Jesus, Isobel.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play the innocent with me. I spoke to Peter at seven o’clock this morning and he told me what’s going on. You’re chasing a murderer all over London.”

  “I am not.”

  “Oh, he’s singing your praises along with some woman called Patricia – apparently you’re a right little Holmes and Watson team.”

  “Why are you so angry? We’ve uncovered something that could have stayed hidden forever.”

  There was a silence.

  “I’m not angry, Isobel.”

  “Well, you sound angry.”

  “I’m terrified. What are you doing? You’re just over a life-threatening illness and now here you are on the trail of a murderer. You could get killed. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Isobel could feel her eyes filling with tears. “It’s not like that. I’ve only met this man once in Peter’s office. Everything else we’ve done is background. There hasn’t been any danger to me. It’s more like solving a puzzle. Honestly, Dave, I’m fine. Today it’s going to be over, the police are going to pick him up and hopefully he’ll be going to jail for a long time based on the evidence we’ve uncovered.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I care about what happens here. I want to find Anne. I want to find what happened to her. I don’t want any more people to be hurt.”

  “You sound very involved.”

  “Well, I want Peter to find out what happened to his client.”

  “But you don’t know this woman.”

  “I feel as if I do from talking to her family and friends. She matters to me. I want to do this. It’s important to me.” By the time she had finished talking the tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Please try to understand.”

  “OK. Just be safe. We love you.”

  “Love you too. I’ll let you know tonight how it goes.”

  “OK, Sherlock.”

  Isobel was smiling when she got off the phone.

  She had a bath and then a leisurely breakfast. Despite trying to force herself to relax she was obsessing about what was happening at the office. It was still only ten thirty. She realised that it was much easier to be in the thick of things, running around talking to suspects rather than sitting at home waiting and wondering. This was like torture. Eventually her curiosity got the better of her and she phoned Patricia for an update.

  “Patricia, how are things progressing?”

  Patricia’s reply was murmured into the phone. “Peter spoke to the boss. Obviously he was a bit put out about things but when Simon told him what we suspected he was glad to help. Oh, Simon is here now, he wants to talk to you.”

  “Hi. Everything is progressing nicely. I know you want to keep abreast of what’s happening but we all need to focus on playing our part here and not get distracted. I promise one of us will let you know the minute we’ve made the arrests. Please don’t phone again. We’ll call you.”

  “Sure, Simon. Good luck.” Isobel had to be content with that. She needed a distraction and maybe some sightseeing would do the trick. Dave had mentioned Sherlock Holmes, her childhood hero. Maybe she would visit 221B Baker Street.

  Isobel was putting on comfortable walking shoes when her mobile rang. Looking at it she saw that the call was from Tim Woodward.

  “Tim, is everything all right?”

  “Isobel, I went and started digging in the garden. We had to know. It was really bothering us. I rang in sick to work and then I started digging in the place where Bella reacted.”

  Isobel bit her lip. She could feel her stomach tightening.

  “And, I’ve found some bones. I wanted to let you know. I’ve stopped digging and I’ve rung the local police station. They’re going to send someone to check it out. The bones are fairly big. I only disturbed two of them. Sarah thinks they’re ribs.”

  Isobel groaned. This was real. Her suspicions were starting to be confirmed.

  “Is Sarah doing OK?”

  “She’s doing great.” Tim sounded proud. “She wants us to help find out the truth, she thinks that’s the least we can do. I’ll let you know when they tell me anything else here.”

  “Thanks, Tim, take care of each other.”

  For a moment Isobel panicked. What was the best thing to do? Should she ring Simon? He was probably going to be annoyed and concerned about evidence and that might distract him. Maybe it would be better to let them go ahead with their plan? They needed to arrest Thomas, knowing this wasn’t going to change what they were doing. Perhaps she would run it past Jeff from the lab. He knew Simon and would know what the best thing to do was.

  Isobel phoned Jeff and quickly filled him in on all the new developments. She could hear him clicking his tongue.

  “The local police will come and look at the bones in Tim’s garden. When they see them, they’ll request an opinion from a coroner as to whether the bones are human. If they are then the garden will become a crime scene.”

  “Should I ring and tell Simon?”

  “Is there any way that Thomas could know about this excavation?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He left his old home behind over ten years ago. No, I can’t see that he would.”

  There was silence for a few seconds then more tongue-clicking, “It’s going to take a while for any useful info on the bones to come through. If they have Thomas in custody when it does, all the better, they can even hold onto him until that info is in, so no, I wouldn’t tell Simon. They’re picking him up anyway, so it won’t change anything they’re going to do. If Simon said leave him alone then let him focus on what they have to do today.”

  Isobel agreed with his logic and was satisfied.

  Sitting on her bed now, she shivered. She also quailed when she thought of what her friends were attempting to do today.

  Full of anxiety for Peter and Patricia, the civilians and also key players in this final piece, Isobel sent a text to Patricia’s phone: Please be careful. Love, Isobel.

  There was nothing more that she could do now so she gathered her bag and headed for Baker Street and some distraction.

  The museum of Sherlock Holmes certainly was a distraction and Isobel found that after the journey and a little time browsing she actually felt calmer. Standing in the upstairs room, Isobel could picture Holmes and Watson as th
ey paced and theorised, pursuing the truth. Which is what she had done. After not working for the last eighteen months because of her health crisis, Isobel experienced a near-forgotten feeling of having been useful, dynamic. After all the weakness and tiredness she’d been experiencing it felt good. Maybe she could find a way forward. It was certainly good to feel a new level of optimism and strength.

  At twelve thirty her phone rang. Isobel rummaged in her bag, frustrated at how slow she was getting to it. It seemed a little early to hear from Simon and everyone. Looking at her screen she saw that it was Grace.

  “Isobel?” Grace’s voice was ragged.

  “Grace, I can hardly hear you. Where are you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m at home.”

  “Grace, I can hardly hear you. What’s happened? Are you ill?”

  “I’m frightened.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Something’s h-happening – n-next door,” Grace said shakily.

  “What? What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Grace gasped.

  “Grace, don’t go outside and don’t open your door.” Isobel could hear the distress in her own voice now and took some deep breaths to calm herself down. She was going to be no good to Grace if she panicked. She found a corner in one of the rooms and turned towards the wall to create a natural barrier so she could focus on the information coming over the phone.

  “I’ve locked the front and back door and I’ve locked myself in the bathroom.”

  Isobel breathed a small sigh of relief. “Good. Stay there. Now, what’s going on next door?”

  “All morning I was thinking about yesterday and just now I decided that I would look over the wall.” There was a sob and some deep breaths. “And say a wee prayer in case Anne was buried there, as I know you suspect. So, I got the garden chair like yesterday and put it against the wall.”

  Isobel could feel her stomach knotting in tension. “What did you see, Grace?”

  “The garden bench has been moved and there’s one of those white tent-y things over where the bench was, where Bella reacted yesterday. It has walls so I can’t see inside but I think I can hear the sound of digging.”

  “Shit, shit.” Isobel was shaking now. “Have you seen Thomas? Is he there?”

  “I only had a quick look. I don’t know who it is.”

  “Grace, I’m going to come over to you. Stay inside. Don’t open the door, except to me. I’ll phone you when I’m outside your front door. Promise me. You have to stay safe.”

  “I promise. Hurry up though.”

  Isobel was already heading down the stairs and out onto Baker Street. “I’m on my way.”

  Isobel hailed a taxi and sat in.

  To encourage the driver she said, “An old lady I know has just rung from this address. Something has happened. I’m worried about her, so can you please hurry?”

  The taxi driver, seeing that she was genuinely distressed, promised haste.

  Isobel debated what to do. This seemed like a significant development – should she ring Patricia? She decided yes and rang but there was no answer. She tried the number of the solicitor’s office number.

  This time Patricia answered.

  “Patricia –”

  “Isobel I can’t talk now.”

  “Hold on, this is important –” but already Isobel was talking to a dialling tone.

  She debated about ringing again and then decided that she would send Patricia a text.

  Grace says someone is digging in Banks’ garden. Going there now.

  Having done this, she sat impatiently as the taxi driver tried to make good on his promise. It still took half an hour, longer than Google had said. Isobel asked the taxi driver to drive past the Banks’ house. In the driveway was a white Ford transit van. She tried to see if there was a name on the van. There didn’t appear to be.

  The taxi driver dropped Isobel a little way down the street, puzzled by her changing instructions. Isobel paid and got out.

  She walked back to Grace’s house. As she turned in the gate she dialled Grace’s number.

  “I’m outside.”

  In a few minutes the door opened tentatively, the chain on. Through the small gap Grace peered out. Tears sprang to her eyes when she saw Isobel. She closed the door and reopened it then pulled Isobel to her in a strong hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Isobel bundled her inside and closed and locked the front door again.

  Grace wrung a tissue in her hands. “Are they digging Anne up? What will we do?”

  Isobel rubbed her face with her hand. “I don’t know. I guess it seems like they might be.” She sucked in her lip. “Have you seen Thomas?”

  “He left with Tommy for school as usual. All I’ve seen is a workman but I don’t know who he is. Maybe it’s Thomas. I don’t know. He’s dressed like the guy back in February but all workmen look fairly similar.”

  Isobel nodded. “There’s a transit van in the drive.”

  Silence fell.

  “It has to be suspicious if he’s digging now,” Isobel said. “I’m afraid he’s getting rid of the evidence. But what alerted him?”

  She glanced at her watch and saw that it was one fifteen. She needed to talk to Simon. She tried his mobile and got no answer. She phoned Patricia’s mobile, it seemed to be off. Once again Isobel rang the number for the solicitor’s office. Again Patricia answered.

  Isobel jumped in immediately, her voice urgent. “Patricia, please listen, something important has happened.”

  Patricia spoke quickly. “I’m not even supposed to be answering the phone. Isobel, we’ve been speaking to Thomas this morning. He and Anne are on their way. Anne got delayed at the hairdresser’s and so they’re going to be slightly late. They’re looking forward to getting the details completed. Simon says there’s no reason for him to suspect that we are on to him.”

  “Patricia, listen –”

  “I have to go.”

  Then the phone went dead.

  Isobel was shocked. She put her phone away in the pocket of her fleece, her eyes smarting with tears. “I can’t get hold of them. They are all at the office, thinking Thomas is on his way.”

  Grace clutched her arm. “What will we do?”

  Isobel could see the confusion and fear in her eyes. Straightening her spine, she said, “I’m going to have a look over the wall.”

  Grace nodded her agreement.

  They went through the hall into the kitchen and then the sunroom.

  Grace turned the key in the lock and turned to Isobel. “I’ll wait here and keep watch with the door ajar in case you have to run back.”

  “Good idea.”

  Grace opened the door and Isobel slipped out.

  Grace already had the chair against the wall and Isobel experienced a sense of déjà vu. She quietly got on the chair and very slowly raised her head until she could see over the wall. It was as Grace had described. There was a small pop-up white gazebo in the garden. Listening, Isobel could hear the sound of a spade scraping and the heavy breath of someone working hard. Then, the scraping stopped and she heard someone making a noise in exertion. A few seconds later she saw some of the canopy moving on the side of the gazebo facing the Banks’ house.

  A man emerged and Isobel ducked down but not before she registered that he had a hat pulled low over his head and a big lumberjack shirt on, work gloves, black jeans and heavy work boots. He appeared to be the same height as Thomas Banks, around six feet, but in the outfit Isobel couldn’t be sure if it was him or not. The man emerged from the gazebo and went up towards the house and round the front.

  Then Isobel heard the van start up. He was leaving. This was her chance.

  She looked back at the kitchen door and signalled that the man was leaving and that she was going to climb the wall. The door, which was slightly ajar, opened a little more and she could see Grace’s finger shaking frantically. Isobel made an ‘It’s OK’ hand gesture. She
listened. She couldn’t hear the van any more. He was gone.

  She clambered over the fence and lowered herself onto the grass on the other side. She crouched down. Bent over, she ran quickly across the grass to the area where the man had exited the tent and slipped between the two pieces of material that formed the door.

  Inside there was a fair bit of room. The grass, where the garden seat had been, had been cut into divots and piled to one side. The soil underneath had been excavated and was in a heap. Isobel could not see the bottom of the hole. She crept forward slowly, a sense of dread building inside. Coming to the edge of the hole she peered in. She saw some hair and what looked like a black jumper. Kneeling on the edge of the hole, she reached down and gently moved the hair. What lay underneath was the remains of a face impossible to recognise. In her heart Isobel knew that this was Anne Banks. Her eyes filled with tears.

  Chapter 35

  For a moment Isobel did nothing. It was as if time froze. Coming back to the present, she thought of Simon. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and took a photo to prove what she’d been saying all along. Her next thought was: I need to get out of here. She got up from where she was kneeling and at the same time heard the metal gate at the side of the house bang. Her heart leapt. She looked through the door flap and she saw the man had come around the side of the house. He hadn’t left after all. He was on his way back towards the gazebo. He was carrying a rolled-up bag for garden rubbish. Isobel’s breath caught in her chest. She couldn’t move. She was petrified. She thought she was going to faint.

  Suddenly there was a crash from the direction of Grace’s garden. To Isobel it sounded as if a garden pot had smashed. The man stood stock still. His head turned and he waited, eyes fixed on the wall between his garden and Grace’s. Isobel lay on the ground and lifting the side of the tent as much as she could squeezed through the gap. She stayed flat on the ground, trying to control her breathing. She heard the man pull back the cover and enter the gazebo. A few seconds later there was the sound of a sharp expelling of breath as he exerted himself.