Spoken Bones

by N. C. Lewis

  Noel was talking. "But we need to speak to Detective Sallow or one of the team first."

  The duty sergeant said, "Leave your number and I'll have someone call back." He turned to Cathy. "We don't have visiting hours, not unless you happen to be a social worker or lawyer."

  Noel said, "How long do you intend to keep her father?"

  "I can't say. Name?"

  "My name is Noel O'Sullivan and I would like to speak with a senior officer."

  "I'm sorry, sir, but our detectives are busy. Leave your telephone number and I will have someone contact you."

  At that moment a slender woman with grey hair entered from a door behind the duty sergeant. She moved quickly. Smooth, Cathy thought. A peregrine falcon on the hunt.

  "Any news of Audrey Robin?" the woman asked.

  "They are bringing her in," replied the duty sergeant. "And we have also got Martin Findlay. The lawyer has arrived for Mr Griffin."

  Cathy recognised the woman. It was the detective she had seen at the crime scene tent on the beach the day after Bonfire Night. The woman who had chased her through her neighbour's backyard. And the very same police officer who, she had heard through the grapevine, took Ben Griffin into custody.

  "I want to see Ben Griffin," Cathy screamed at the top of her voice. "I want to see the father of my child."

  Chapter 63

  "Now let me get this straight." Fenella was having difficulty taking it all in. Noel O'Sullivan and Cathy Wallace sat on one side of a table in Interview Room B. She and Dexter sat on the other. "Pastor O'Sullivan, your church runs a wellness clinic for unwed mothers?"

  "We prefer to call them single mothers these days."

  "Aye," Fenella said, feeling her age. It was a challenge to keep up with the changing language, and she didn't want to offend. "You run a wellness centre for single mothers?"

  "That's right, part of our church outreach activities. And Maureen Brian is… was an active member of our community of volunteers." Noel turned to Cathy who sat very still, her eyes cast down. "That's how she met you, isn't it, Cathy?"

  Cathy nodded and said, "We met through Gloria Embleton. She is a teacher at school. I told Miss Embleton I might be pregnant, and she introduced me to Maureen."

  "I see," Fenella said, beginning to grasp the full picture. "And the father is Ben Griffin?"

  Again Cathy nodded. "He said we were going to run away together. We'd buy a house in a village in the country where we would raise chickens and goats and sell them in the farmers’ market."

  Fenella felt her heart squeeze, but waited for Cathy to continue.

  "Ben is going to leave his wife." Cathy paused, as if considering the harshness of the words. "But he can't do that, just yet."

  "Why not?"

  Cathy shrugged. "He said he is waiting for the right time."

  "How old are you?"

  "Sixteen."

  "Aye, that's what I thought, luv." Fenella glanced at Dexter. He shook his head. "But Ben is thirty-five, luv."

  "Age doesn't count when you're in love, does it?" Cathy smiled. "Ben loves me. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

  "Love is a challenge, pet," Fenella said. "It still leaves me baffled. Does your dad know he is to be a grandfather?"

  Cathy's head drooped. She began to cry.

  Noel placed an arm around her shoulder." It's okay, honey. It's okay." He turned to Fenella and gave a sad smile. "When I found out about Cathy's pregnancy, I spoke with Ben. I urged him to do the right thing, tell his wife."

  "When was that?"

  "I first met Cathy the day after Maureen Brian died. She came to speak with me about Maureen. Maureen befriended teenagers in need. A pastor knows his flock and I sensed Cathy was troubled both by Maureen's death and something else. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to guess she was with child."

  "I see," Fenella said. "And you spoke with Cathy's father?"

  "No. She asked I not do that. But I did speak with Ben. I've known Safiya for some years. She comes to my services on the beach." Noel gave a sad smile. "I visited Ben at his bed and breakfast. We talked. He said he would think about it, but now he is in custody, the truth will come out. It will be hard on Safiya."

  Fenella sighed. Ben Griffin had broken no laws. She felt his relationship with Cathy was inappropriate, but it wasn’t her place to judge. His selfish actions would break two women's hearts. And what about the unborn babies? That stirred up her anger. Even if Cathy and Safiya could put the pieces back together, they'd carry the scars inflicted by Ben Griffin for life.

  "Can I see Ben?" Cathy stared with pleading eyes.

  "No, luv," Fenella replied. "I'm sorry."

  Cathy placed her head in her hands and let out a bitter sob.

  Fenella felt a sudden surge of vengeance. There remained the matter of Maureen Brian's and Claire Sutherland's murders. She'd nail Ben Griffin, good and proper if his hand lay behind the death of those two women.

  "Cathy," Fenella whispered. "Look at me."

  Cathy raised her head and held Fenella's gaze.

  "I want you to listen very carefully and think before you answer." Fenella waited a moment to ensure she had Cathy's full attention. When Cathy nodded, Fenella continued. "Did you meet Ben on Bonfire Night?"

  "Yes. Under the pier, by the lighthouse."

  "What time was that?"

  Cathy shrugged. "I'm not sure."

  "Before or after the fireworks?"

  "Before."

  Now Fenella took her time. She wanted a crystal-clear picture. No chance of a mistake. Then she'd cast her net and haul in the catch. "Did you see Ben after the fireworks?"

  Cathy hesitated. Ben had told her to say she was with him on Bonfire Night and last Sunday. She wanted to protect him, but lie to the police? That's what her dad always did and look where it got him. She loved her dad but didn’t want her and Ben's relationship to be built on a lie. When this was over, she and Ben would always tell their baby the truth.

  "No." Cathy said. "We only spoke for a short while, about the baby."

  "And you went home after the fireworks, on your own?"

  "Not on my own. With Belinda."

  "Belinda?"

  "Belinda Yates. She is fifteen and lives with Mrs Elizabeth Collins. Mrs Collins is a foster parent."

  "Aye," Fenella said, remembering. "I know of Mrs Collins."

  Cathy was talking. "We walked home together with the other foster children. Belinda was in charge. I went into the house with her and she settled the kids down. After all was quiet, she walked me halfway home."

  "And you didn't see Ben again that evening?"

  "No."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  Fenella felt the pulse beating in the side of her neck. She tilted her head from side to side. Ben Griffin didn't have an alibi for the time of Maureen Brian's murder. What about Claire Sutherland? Safiya said her husband went out Sunday night after giving her sleeping pills which she did not take. The same trick used on Bonfire Night. Where did he go?

  Fenella said, "Did you see Ben on Sunday?"

  "No."

  "You weren't with him Sunday night?"

  "I saw him Friday night, after the rain. Only very briefly. He got angry."

  "What about?"

  "The baby."

  "But you didn't see him Sunday night?"

  "I did not."

  Fenella's heart thudded against her chest. Ben Griffin had no alibi. His business was in trouble, he lied about his whereabouts, and he was a business partner of Ian Wallace who'd stolen fake photographs.

  Got him.

  Chapter 64

  It was with the excitement of the fox cornering the hare that Fenella and Dexter strode into Interview Room C. It reeked of nervous bodies, vomited dinners and cheap Cumbria police coffee. The bare walls and bolted table played their part in causing anxious interviewees to sweat.

  Fenella used Interview Room C when she wanted answers.

  Ben Griffin sat next to the dut
y solicitor, a balding forty-something man wearing a cheap suit and a disinterested scowl.

  "So good of you to show up, Detective Sallow," the solicitor said in a sour tone. "I've got lunch with Judge Grey. Can we be quick?" He turned to Ben. "Now Mr, er"—he glanced down at his notebook—"Griffin. Do you want to represent yourself?" He arched both eyebrows as though encouraging Ben to agree.

  "No," Ben replied. "I've nothing to hide, and I'm entitled to legal representation."

  "Oh, very well," replied the solicitor. He turned to Fenella. "Now, Detective Sallow, I'm Mr Locke. What is all this about?"

  "Mr Locke, I'm in charge of the Maureen Brian and Claire Sutherland murder investigation."

  "Ah," replied Mr Locke, staring at Ben with curious eyes. He pulled a pen from his inside pocket and jotted in a notebook. When he finished, he looked up. "My client and I are ready."

  "Mr Griffin"—Fenella waited a heartbeat; she wanted Ben to sweat—"let's begin with your whereabouts on Bonfire Night."

  Ben hesitated, cleared his throat and spoke in a defiant tone. "Like I said before, I went home with my wife, gave her some pills and went out to see the end of the celebrations."

  "Where did you go?"

  "I've already told you."

  "Can you tell me again?"

  Ben let out a disgruntled sigh. "I walked along the beach and the boardwalk and didn’t see anyone I know."

  Fenella changed tack. "And last Sunday night, where did you go?"

  "I… er…"

  Fenella didn’t wait for him to collect his thoughts. She had him off balance and wanted to keep it that way. She went on the attack.

  "Do you know Miss Cathy Wallace?"

  "No."

  "Are you sure?"

  Ben ran a hand over his devil’s wisp beard, but didn't answer.

  Fenella continued. "I suspect you know her rather well, since she is carrying your child."

  "Okay. Okay. Yes, I know Cathy." He threw his hands in the air. "She was just a bit of fun that got out of hand. No harm done."

  "No plans to elope to the country to raise chickens and goats, then?"

  "The dumb cow will believe anything."

  "She's sixteen!"

  "It's not illegal, she is of age."

  "The girl’s a child."

  "Detective Sallow," Mr Locke said in a warning tone. "Is there a point to your line of questioning?"

  Fenella took a deep breath. "Bonfire Night, where were you?"

  "Listen," Ben said, "I don't want this getting back to my wife, understood?"

  Fenella waited.

  "I was with Cathy. We spent the night together."

  Fenella watched him closely. "And last Sunday?"

  "Same again." Ben flashed a sexy smile. "Cathy can't keep her hands off me. But after this, I'm going to have to dump her."

  "I see; well, that clears that up, doesn't it?"

  "Can I go now?"

  Fenella said, "Only one problem with your explanation, Mr Griffin. I just spoke with Cathy and she says she wasn't with you on Bonfire Night or last Sunday. She even signed a statement to the effect. So, you don't have an alibi, do you?"

  Ben's eyes darted about like a wild animal caught in a trap.

  "I didn't lay a finger on Maureen or Claire Sutherland. I didn't do it; you have to believe me."

  "Where were you on Bonfire Night and last Sunday?"

  "I didn't do it."

  Fenella saw the panic in his eyes and waited.

  "Okay, okay." He took a gasping breath. "I was with someone else."

  "Who?"

  "A friend."

  "You'll have to do better than that."

  "A girl. all right?"

  "Name?"

  Ben looked like he was about to throw up. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

  "Mr Griffin, I need a name so I can check your alibi. Can you give me a name?"

  "Belinda Yates."

  Fenella sat up straight. "But she's a schoolgirl, only fifteen."

  Ben began to sob. "For God's sake, don't tell Safiya. I spent both nights with Belinda. She will confirm, if you ask. Please ask her. I didn’t kill anyone."

  "I'd like to consult with my client," Mr Locke said. "Alone."

  Fenella stood.

  "What will happen to me?" cried Ben. "It's not how it seems. I'm a family man."

  Fenella left the room without answer.

  Chapter 65

  In the hallway outside Interview Room C, Fenella and Dexter spoke in hushed tones.

  "What do you think?" Fenella asked.

  Dexter said, "Mr Griffin has lied to us on several occasions. He lied to his wife, Safiya. He lied to Cathy. The man would do anything to save his own neck." He shook his head. "Hobson's choice. Murder or child abuse—which would you choose?"

  Fenella did not like the way this case was shaking out. "We have to speak with Belinda Yates. Confirm his story. Even then, I'm not ruling him out for the murders."

  Dexter said, "The puppet master behind the scenes pulling the strings?"

  "Aye. With Ian Wallace as a puppet." Fenella didn't like that explanation. Her gut couldn't see Ian Wallace killing twice, not even for drug money. But her head knew her gut could be wrong. "I can't see Ian Wallace keeping quiet if he's been duped with fake photos. He’d squeal like a mouse caught in a trap."

  "Want to speak to him next, Guv?"

  "Aye," Fenella replied. Then she changed her mind. "What about Martin Findlay?"

  "We are arranging an appropriate adult. Miss Gloria Embleton is on her way."

  "The schoolteacher?"

  "I believe so."

  "And Audrey Robin?"

  "In the custody suite, Guv."

  "Let's get her into an interview room. See what she has got to say."

  "And Ian Wallace?"

  "Like I said earlier, he's not milk. He won't spoil."

  Chapter 66

  Audrey watched as the detectives entered the interview room. The way they trotted reminded her of that ratty terrier dog she'd seen on the beach. And she wondered if they had fox-sharp teeth. Then the woman detective with the shoulder-length grey hair smiled, and Audrey knew she wouldn't hear Patrick's voice. So she relaxed and played her game of know thy neighbour and instantly remembered their names: Detective Inspector Sallow and Detective Sergeant Dexter.

  "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today," said the woman detective. "This is a voluntary police interview. It will be recorded, but you haven't been charged with anything. You can leave at any time. Do you understand?"

  Audrey nodded. Not that she felt she had any choice in the matter. Didn't the police arrive at her cottage and bring her here? And they'd discovered Martin Findlay too. If it wasn't a formal interview, it sure felt like one.

  "Do I need a lawyer?" Audrey asked because she'd seen it on television.

  "If you wish," replied the woman detective. "There are questions we have to ask. If you would rather do that in the presence of a solicitor, we can arrange that for you."

  The female detective shifted in her seat as if to stand up, but Audrey raised her hand.

  "No. No lawyers. I don't like lawyers. They always twist things so you can't tell the truth from lies."

  "As you wish," the woman detective said. "But you can change your mind at any time."

  Audrey watched as the male detective fiddled with the recording device. He mumbled something about the date and time, and sat at the table next to the woman detective.

  "Mrs Robin, my name is Detective Inspector Fenella Sallow; you've met my colleague, Detective Sergeant Dexter."

  "We all met in the ambulance," Audrey said. "Outside the crime scene tent on the morning after Bonfire Night. I was the person who found Maureen Brian. Don't you remember?"

  "Of course, that's right," replied Fenella with an uncertain smile. "My memory is not as sharp as it was when I was younger, luv."

  Audrey smiled back. The police would never catch the killer if they couldn't remem
ber who they'd interviewed. She didn't know why, but that thought made her relax even more. If these two detectives were the best the Cumbria Police offered, then, well, there would be more murders, wouldn't there?

  "Can you remind us about your background?" The woman detective was looking in her spiral-bound notebook, flicking through pages as if lost. "Not from around these parts, are you?"

  Audrey grinned. "I'm from Bristol, moved down a few years back." It was like being on the television with two dumb detectives who couldn't tell day from night. She'd heard the phrase taking candy from a baby, but didn't know what it meant until now. This was easy. "Last time we spoke, you commented on my accent."

  "Aye, and you work as a library assistant. Are you still on sick leave?"

  There was something about the way the detective asked the question that told Audrey she already knew the answer. And that made her nervous. Why were they poking around in her work business?

  Audrey adjusted her owl-like glasses and ran a hand through her mousy hair. "They haven't asked me to come back, yet."

  "I spoke with the head librarian, luv."

  Audrey interrupted. "Oh, she is very nice. Told me to take as long as I need. They are very good to me."

  "The head librarian said they let you go."

  "I'm on sick leave. For as long as I need."

  "They said your behaviour was incompatible with working in the library service."

  "There must be some mistake. I'm going back when I'm well. They love me there. I'm their best worker."

  Audrey noticed the quick glance the woman detective gave her male colleague. She even saw him roll his eyes. She didn't like that. It reminded her of the times she went to the police to complain about Patrick. The officer rolled his eyes too. And so did the doctor who gave her the pills. Now Audrey closed her eyes and saw that ratty terrier dog. She snapped them back open, suddenly afraid.

  The woman detective said, "Do you know Seafields Bed and Breakfast?"