Bob Seacombe rose awkwardly to his feet. ‘Go and fetch the letter, Mary. I’ll make us some tea,’ he said, gesturing to the back of the cabin.
‘Good idea,’ Noakes said heartily. He turned to Mary. ‘By the way, luv, if you’ve got any photos of the family, that’d be a help too.’
The two Seacombes pattered off on their various errands.
As the two policemen watched them go, their faces were wiped clean of sanguine assurance and cheerful bonhomie.
‘So Warr got in touch,’ Noakes hissed. ‘Squaring Rose’s folks.’
‘Yes, with the GMC and the rest starting to take an interest, he must have wanted to make sure the Seacombes knew which side their bread was buttered. He couldn’t leave anything to chance. The troublesome sister was dead, but who knows what she might have told the aunt….’
‘D’you think they realized Rose likely ended up in that horrible graveyard?’
In his mind’s eye Markham saw the rain-drenched field and a rough, plank bier with a cheap plywood coffin resting on it; saw the weazened little corpse, bruised like a forceps baby, lowered into its brick prison.
‘I think subconsciously they knew, Noakes.’ A strange faraway look entered his eyes. ‘I think they’ve always known. But they couldn’t face the truth, and denial became a way of life… It was too late to put things right, so they took what was offered and made the best of it.’
With the strange empathy that existed between them, Noakes knew instinctively that the guvnor was thinking of his own past on which the veil was rarely lifted.
The DI gave him a wry smile. ‘Good call about the photos. There aren’t any in that file from the social worker.’
Restlessly, the DS got up and wandered over to the reception desk, idly flicking through the pages of the visitors’ book.
Suddenly, he stiffened as though transfixed.
‘What is it, Sergeant?’
‘Oh God,’ the other stammered.
Markham rose, alarmed. His rubicund sergeant had turned quite grey.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph.’ The DS looked as though he might keel over. ‘It’s been right under our noses all the time. An’ Burton must’ve twigged … must’ve seen…’
He was gabbling now. ‘Gimme her pocketbook, Guv.’
Almost snatching it out of Markham’s hand, he rifled through the pages muttering to himself. ‘She was doodling in that social worker’s office … scribbling summat.’
‘Noakes, you’re not making any sense.’
The DS found what he wanted and crowed exultantly as he shoved the open pages and visitors’ book at Markham, ‘Look, Guv, look!’
In an instant, the DI understood, and it was as though every drop of blood in his body congealed at the discovery.
At that moment, Mary Seacombe came in with some photographs. With nerveless fingers, Markham spread them out on the table.
‘There, boss!’ Noakes said hoarsely. ‘There at the back!’
Mary Seacombe looked from one to the other with frightened eyes.
‘What is it?’ she whispered.
Bob Seacombe had rejoined them with a tray of tea and biscuits which he set down, unheeded, beside them.
‘Mr Seacombe,’ Markham’s voice was urgent. ‘Last time we visited, you told us that field round the back of the complex was out of bounds.’
‘That’s right. There used to be a church there too, but it’s long gone.’ The man leaned against the table as though for support.
‘You said you meant to put up a notice, but hardly anyone ever came.’
‘That’s right.’ The man’s eyes were wary.
‘Had there been trouble with trespassers, then?’
‘There was the odd prowler. Nothing to speak of, though.’
The odd prowler.
‘You found something in the field?’
‘Some ribbons … trinkets … children’s toys … and from time to time there were flowers.’
‘Someone was visiting it?’
‘So long as they weren’t doing no harm, we turned a blind eye.’
‘There was never any vandalism or anything like that,’ his wife said hastily.
‘I reckon they’ll come back here, Guv.’ Noakes bounced agitatedly on the balls of his feet.
‘Please.’ Mary Seacombe touched Markham’s sleeve. ‘What’s this all about?’
Gently pressing her into a chair, Markham told her.
‘Hello there! I never expected to see you here!’
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, it felt like a mistake. Too falsely bright.
‘Oh, I’m from round these parts, Sergeant. I thought you knew.’
Burton swallowed. She’d got away with it.
‘I’m parked just round the corner, if you’d like a lift somewhere.’
A vision of the DI swam in front of her eyes. Of Markham smiling at her … congratulating her … letting her into the circle of intimacy he shared with Noakes … an outsider no longer.
‘Sure, why not?’
But then, when the car door locks clicked and she glanced sideways at the driver’s profile, she realized with a sinking heart that she hadn’t got away with it after all.
‘You know who I am, don’t you, Sergeant?’
The voice was unrecognizable.
Play dumb. Play for time.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. I saw it in your face back there.’ Narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t take me for a fool.’
A glint of metal from the knife held below the steering wheel. To a passerby, they would look like two friends having a chat.
Numbly, she nodded.
Linda Harelock smiled amiably, for a moment transformed into the good-natured bustling creature of their first encounter. The switch was chilling.
‘Sensible girl. Sergeant Noakes tells me he fancies you’re so sharp you’ll cut yourself.’ The smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Well, we don’t want blood all over my nice clean upholstery, do we?’
‘Why did you do it, Lynsey?’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘All right then, Linda.’ Burton felt as though her heart must explode out of her chest, so violent was its pounding. ‘I think I know why Doctor Warr had to suffer. But what about the rest? Why did they have to die?’
‘I can’t tell you here. There’s somewhere I need to be.’
Unlike the motherly warmth of the woman’s usual tones, her voice was now eerily monotone, devoid of light and shade, as though ventriloquized from outside herself.
‘All right.’ Burton fought for calm. ‘I’ll go wherever you like, hear whatever you want to tell me.’
The other started the engine and the car picked up speed.
Burton thought about trying to grab the wheel and decided against have-a-go heroism.
Perhaps Linda Harelock wanted to hand herself in after so many years of living a lie….
Seacrest.
Burton recognized it from the DI’s description.
God, it was a soulless place, she thought, as Linda Harelock led her to a gully which dipped down at the far end of the abandoned graveyard on the side closest to the road.
Pressing the policewoman to the ground, the knife at her throat, the erstwhile befriender hunkered down next to her. As if they were two schoolgirls playing truant, thought Burton with rising hysteria.
‘No-one can see us down here,’ Linda said with satisfaction. ‘But I’ll know if anyone comes this way.’
The gully felt unpleasantly dank, but Burton barely noticed.
She waited to hear the truth.
‘I watched out for my sister Rose when I was a little girl,’ came the whisper in her ear. ‘Even though she was older than me. I played with her … helped her to spell and count.’ There was a momentary catch in the rasping voice, then the other continued. ‘She was very pretty and always smelled of lily of the valley … Mum used to give her dabs of perfume for a treat … she loved that.’
‘What was wrong with her?’
‘She was just slow, that’s all. They’d call it learning difficulties now. Me and Mum helped her keep up. And she was happy with us.’ Another painful sound as though Linda was trying to swallow past a lump in her throat. ‘Then one day she was gone and I never saw her again.’
‘Did anyone ever talk to you about it?’
‘No, but I came across Mum crying. Irene, too.’ Again, that working of the throat. ‘It must’ve been after they found out what those bastard doctors had done to her. I heard Irene talking about it one day when she didn’t think I was listening. Rose flew at her with her fists when Irene went to see her in hospital and then she wouldn’t look at her at all.’ Linda crumbled damp soil between her fingers, oblivious of the dirt. ‘At the back of her poor damaged mind must’ve been the thought that she had had this surgery and no-one showed up.’
Burton momentarily lost her fear listening to this horror beyond horror.
‘Your mum never spoke out?’
‘She repressed it, like she repressed the whole disaster of her marriage and what … Dad … did. She repressed it all and pretended that it had never happened and that Rose no longer existed.’ Linda gave a mirthless laugh. ‘There were so many secrets, you see. Not just with Dad … but my older brothers too. We had to learn not to see…. It killed Mum in the end.’
‘Irene fought for Rose, didn’t she?’
‘Huh. Much good it did her. They were too strong for her. Sent her round the twist like Mum. She got us younger ones out of there, but after that she fell apart. It was the end of us as a family.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Save your pity, Sergeant. We got Doctor Warr in the end.’
We.
Before she could gather her wits, the woman was talking again, an enigmatic smile playing about her lips as if the encircling band that had bound her brain for so many weary years had suddenly snapped to give her peace of mind.
‘You wanted to know why the others had to die, Sergeant.’ A crafty expression came into her eyes, so that it was as if a demon suddenly peered out from behind the befriender’s pleasant unremarkable exterior.
‘Hayley got nosey, I’m afraid. I’d left my locker open, you see, and she just couldn’t resist taking a peep.’ Her tone now mildly regretful, she explained, ‘There were some documents in the name of Lynsey Seacombe plus some of Irene’s original correspondence with the Newman. I shouldn’t have kept the letters there, but I liked to have them near me as a reminder. It took me so long to build up the courage … so many years of watching and waiting …’ Stalking Jonathan Warr in the guise of the friendly volunteer. Part of the hospital’s furniture. Safe and unthreatening. Until things fell apart.
‘Hayley tried to blackmail you.’
‘She wanted to better herself … travel. That waste of space boyfriend at the Gazette opened her eyes to other possibilities than being a put-upon receptionist. She was a sharp little thing all right – had her ear to the grapevine, knew all about the rumours of abuse … when she worked out who I was, she made the connection with Doctor Warr’s murder and tried to use it to her advantage. Poor stupid little girl.’ It was an unsettling echo of Noakes’s words when he found Hayley’s body.
‘And David Belcher? Had he discovered your identity as well?’
‘No, nothing like that.’ She flashed a coy smile, and again it was as though the demon unveiled itself.
‘He used to go jogging round Bromgrove Rise and saw us up there. Dumping the body, only he didn’t realize it at the time. Later, after Doctor Warr was found, it fell into place.’
Us.
Take it slowly, Burton.
‘Did David want money too?’
‘No, he was on an ideological crusade. Thought he could … persuade me to pass on information from inside the Newman. He wanted stuff he could use against the hospital.’ There was an almost petulant edge to her voice, and the strangely artful look returned to her face as she insisted. ‘I couldn’t take the risk of him talking. We weren’t finished.’
We.
‘Was someone else—’
But Linda was looking up the bank to the top of the gully where a figure was silhouetted against the sky.
Burton followed the woman’s gaze.
The kindly face of Ernie Roberts, the head porter at the Newman, looked back at her.
‘Oh, Mr Roberts,’ the DS exclaimed, ‘thank God you’re here. I need help.’
Then, suddenly, she registered the meaning of his presence.
Linda Harelock had said she needed to be somewhere.
We. Us.
She had met the porter there by appointment.
Burton’s eyes filled with a mounting horror which dilated her pupils until the pair before her blurred together.
Linda clambered up the gully, forcing the policewoman in front of her, the wicked little knife once more at her throat.
‘It’s over, luv.’
The hand holding the knife shook uncontrollably.
‘I couldn’t help it, Ernie. When I saw that policeman in Warr’s office, I just lost it … don’t know what came over me…. I just wanted to punish them … get my own back on the lot of them.’ Her voice was ragged with desperation. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’
‘Course I do, luv.’
The tenderness in his eyes was a revelation.
God, these two were in a relationship. In it together.
‘But it’s all over now, Lin.’
He pointed across the field to a cluster of dark figures.
‘The police are here,’ he said softly. His eyes met Burton’s. ‘Your fella’s come for you.’
Markham. Burton’s heart gave a great leap of joy.
The knife wavered, but this time Linda Harelock’s voice was strong. ‘I’m not leaving here, Ernie. I’m not leaving Rose. They’re never putting me in a police cell.’
An unspoken message seemed to pass from one to the other.
The man took two swift steps towards them.
There was the flash of metal and Burton recoiled, but it was the other woman’s blood which drenched her.
The last thing she saw before passing out was Markham’s dark, eager face, clean cut against the January sky where the winter sun throbbed red like burning charcoal.
Epilogue
‘I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE it, sir. I mean, Ernie Roberts! Looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ DC Doyle shook his head in stupefaction.
‘Ex-Army,’ grunted Noakes. ‘Still waters an’ all that.’
Markham nodded. ‘There was much more to Mr Roberts than met the eye.’
Boundless rage against the doctor who had poisoned his wife’s peace with pharmaceuticals and dubious therapy, so that she never fully recovered from the nervous breakdown which forced her to give up work and become a recluse. The head porter, rightly or wrongly, blamed Jonathan Warr for her decline, and the doctor’s arrogant demeanour merely served to fan his hate.
There was self-hatred too.
‘Doctor Lopez says Ernie was only able to cope with Doctor Warr’s murder by dissociation – blotting it out. So that when he “discovered” the body, he genuinely had temporary amnesia, though his memory gradually returned along with all the horrific details like the mutilation.’
‘Sounds like you’re saying he had PTSD, sir.’ Doyle was curious.
‘I imagine his defence team will use it at trial.’ Markham smiled at the detective’s interest, relieved to see that his recent gloom had lifted.
The three men were sitting in the back room of The Grapes, enjoying the pub’s snug warmth and a crackling fire. They had the place to themselves, Denise the landlady having declared it out of bounds to her regulars who accepted the blatant favouritism with philosophical resignation. Denise was not a woman to be trifled with.
‘Roberts knew what he was doing when he killed the rest, though,’ Noakes said belligerently.
Markham savoured his Hendrick’s before rep
lying.
‘True, Noakesy. You were the one who pointed out that Hayley looked as though she was tucked up in bed … posed like a Disney princess … like the murderer cared for her.’
‘S’right.’
‘Well, I should have taken more notice. Ernie and Hayley were friends, you see. Linda Harelock told us that Hayley walked his dog and dropped in to see him.’
‘Which explains the way we found her.’
‘Exactly, Doyle.’
Noakes looked mollified. Then his face fell. ‘The DCI was on to summat when he spouted all that folie à deux stuff. We’ll never hear the bleeding end of it.’
‘Oh yes.’ Markham grinned. ‘He’ll be pluming himself on that psychology degree every chance he gets … especially when the cameras are around.’
‘Who’d have pegged Linda Harelock and Ernie as lovers, though? I mean, they’re ancient.’ Doyle’s bemusement was profound.
Noakes did a protracted eye roll.
Markham laughed. ‘Putting sex aside, they’d both suffered at the hands of the medical profession. It was only when Linda got together with Ernie that she found the strength to take her revenge on Jonathan Warr.’ His face darkened. ‘I imagine she was the one who initiated the mutilation, even if she didn’t wield the knife herself.’
‘She was out of it at the end, Guv.’ Noakes’s mind had travelled back to those final moments at Seacrest.
The DI murmured his agreement. ‘Yes, she’d had enough. She knew she’d never survive a prison sentence.’ He took another cool draught of Hendrick’s. ‘I think she wanted Ernie to kill her…. Both their hands were on the knife, and Burton thought some sort of signal passed between them at the end.’
‘How’s Burton doing, sir?’ Doyle asked awkwardly.
‘Taking it easy for the time being,’ came the easy reply. ‘But you know Kate,’ he added sardonically, ‘she won’t be able to keep away from the pair of you for long.’
‘I thought she was a goner when I saw them doodles … Lynsey … Lyn … Linda…and realized who she’d gone after.’ Noakes gave a convulsive shudder. ‘Harelock had written it in the visitors’ book too, bold as brass … scouting the place out without her own flesh an’ blood being any the wiser.’
Markham said nothing about the way Burton had looked at him before the rest of them reached her – the unforgettable expression in her eyes. That was between the two of them.
Detective Markham Mysteries Box Set Page 77