Silent Crimes

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  Jade made up her mind. She backtracked a hundred yards and circled around the area, hoping to reach the track that led from the clearing to the riverbank, at a point close to the oak tree. She’d calculated her route perfectly. Here was the spot. The ground fell away gently towards the Wareham Channel, the small estuary of the River Frome. Its waters glinted in the sunlight just four hundred yards ahead. She glanced around, assuring herself that she wasn’t being watched, and then made for the tree. She put on a pair of rubber gloves and pulled a torch from her bag, shining the beam into the three largest fissures in the trunk. They all seemed to be empty, full of nothing but leaf mould. She thrust a hand into each one in turn, rummaging around and running her fingers through the damp matter. She reached the last and most awkwardly situated hole without having found anything. Yes! She took hold and pulled, and out came a small, grubby plastic bag which she pushed hastily into her rucksack. Another glance around — no one in sight, thank God. She took a wide arc back around the wood and made for her hidden bicycle. Where was it? Think. Hadn’t she left it pushed up against a tree in this very copse? Panic started to seep into her mind but she forced herself to think rationally. Get yourself oriented, she mouthed silently. Are you in the right place? She looked south to where the roadside fence should be. It was there but it slanted off at an unexpected angle. Maybe this wasn’t the right copse. She clambered over the fence onto the road and looked around her. No, she was a good twenty yards short of her normal entry point into the woods. She hurried along the narrow lane and clambered back over the fence. There was her bicycle. She was beginning to shake, imagining eyes upon her and a violent assailant about to leap out of the trees brandishing a thick bludgeon. But all was quiet. She almost threw her bicycle across the fence and climbed over after it. Once she was on the move she’d expected to calm down, but the release of tension caused a feeling of intense nausea. She was halfway along the winding lane when she was forced to stop and vomit into the undergrowth at the side of the road. She stood, feeling faint, trying to take some deep breaths.

  As she climbed back onto her bike a small car approached, heading towards Wareham, the only vehicle she’d seen since setting out from home an hour earlier. Had she passed it on her outward journey, parked close to the wooded area? She wasn’t sure. She averted her face as it went by, although this meant she couldn’t see the driver. It was only a few hundred yards to the junction where she turned off through Ridge, so she cycled as fast as possible. She felt safer once she was off the Arne road and on her way through the small hamlet, and even more so once she reached the riverside path. Then the next worry hit her. Would someone be watching the bridge, the only crossing point into Wareham from the south, or was she being ridiculously paranoid?

  It was no longer a case of hurrying in search of something unknown. She needed to be careful.

  *

  Sophie woke with a start. Someone was in the room, yet she could feel Martin beside her, asleep and still breathing heavily. She heard a slight clunk as someone deposited a mug on the small shelf beside her. She turned to see her daughter standing beside the bed.

  ‘Mum?’ whispered the figure. ‘Can we talk? Once you’ve drunk your tea? I’m really sorry it’s so early, but I think I’ve created a problem for you.’

  Martin grunted, turned over and spotted the mug of tea beside him, next to the clock. ‘What’s going on?’ he said, yawning. ‘It’s only six thirty. Great to have tea in the morning, but does it have to be this early?’

  Sophie shifted sideways and patted the bed, sufficiently alert to notice the worried look on Jade’s face. ‘Alright. What have you done now?’

  She listened in disbelief as Jade’s story unfolded. ‘It was a murder, Jade. Killers don’t play games. What on earth caused you to deliberately walk into danger like that?’

  ‘I never thought there’d be anyone there. I mean, wouldn’t anyone have assumed the same thing? After all, I did find something hidden in the tree, something Paul put there. If I hadn’t gone, that man would probably have found it, and then where would you be?’

  Sophie shook her head, speechless. Martin said, ‘To be honest, I think I’d have done the same as Jade, but then I’m half loopy too. Let’s have our tea and think things through. Are you sure he didn’t see you, Jade? I mean, if it was the killer driving that car?’

  ‘I turned away, but that meant I didn’t get a good look at him or his car. I don’t think he saw me earlier — I was really careful.’

  ‘It was pretty clear thinking, getting one of the boats to take you across the river. You were lucky to find someone awake that early. If the driver of that car was the same man, he might well have waited at the bridge for a second look at you.’ Martin reached across and patted Jade’s hand. ‘Eggs and bacon in half an hour? I think you deserve a good feed. I’ll cook.’

  Sophie shivered at the thought of how close to danger Jade had come. From a rational point of view, Martin was right. But in her job she had often come across the violence criminals used against potential witnesses. She couldn’t bear the thought of her own daughter becoming a victim, just because she had helped a tramp in difficulties. Where was the justice in that? Better to stay quiet about it now though.

  ‘This Paul Prentice,’ Sophie said. ‘He never gave you any idea of what he might have hidden in that tree?’

  Jade shook her head.

  ‘So you don’t know what’s inside that plastic bag?’

  ‘No. And in case you’re wondering, I haven’t looked. It’s well wrapped up. It could be anything.’

  ‘And this man you saw poking around, you didn’t recognise him? He wasn’t a local?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Do you think he might be the killer, back for another look, something he missed first time?’

  ‘I don’t know, Jade. But we’ll need to sit you down in front of one of our artists so you can produce a rough photofit image.’

  ‘There’s no point, Mum. He was wearing a hoodie and he had his back to me. I didn’t hang around long enough for a better view of him.’

  *

  A forensic technician worked her way through the contents of the package, all of which were spread across a bench. She was examining them for fingerprints and DNA samples. The items included a passport, a small notebook, a collection of photographs in a clear plastic wallet and an old library card that looked as though it originated in an era before computerisation. Hovering over the bench, Sophie eyed the card with interest. It bore the handwritten label Taunton Library and was made out in the name of Paul Prentice. There was no other information on it. Didn’t libraries always put full contact details on their tickets? And weren’t they printed rather than handwritten? She tried to remember her own library card from childhood. This one didn’t look right. She could just make out the two book cards it still contained.

  ‘It’ll take me another hour or so before I finish checking the outer surfaces,’ the technician said, looking nervous and guarded. ‘That has to be done before we can open them up and look inside.’

  Sophie took the hint. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to put you off. I’ll go and get a coffee and come back later.’

  She climbed the stairs to her office, annoyed at herself. She could be too impatient, she knew. After all, forensics was the future of crime detection, and it wouldn’t do to alienate the staff by making excessive demands. She sat at her desk, drumming her fingers on the surface. There was no point in returning to the incident room at Wareham police station — by the time she got there, she’d have to turn around and come back. She extracted a sheaf of documents from her bag and had just started to read when her mobile phone rang. She glanced at the caller display and sat staring at it for a few seconds before answering.

  ‘Hello, Pauline. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Well, Chief Inspector, it’s not so much what you can do for me but rather what I might be able to do for you. You remember my walking group, the Chatty Ramblers? I’m currently the organiser while Flick C
ochrane is recovering from surgery. I read about the discovery of that tramp’s body in the local press. We’ve had a couple of walks at Arne recently, and, well, we may have seen something.’

  Sophie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. What was it about this woman that set her on edge? It was always the same — a mixture of annoyance and a strange fascination. What made her tick? She thought hard. There was no way she wanted to meet Pauline Stopley, not at the moment.

  ‘Can you tell me over the phone?’

  ‘Not really,’ Pauline replied. ‘I think it would be better if we met.’

  Sophie thought carefully. ‘That might not be possible, Pauline. I’ve recently been promoted to superintendent. I’m busier than ever and have this investigation to run on top of the rest. I’ll send one of my team, either DS Marsh or Rae Gregson. You remember them, don’t you?’

  There was a pause. ‘Yes, sort of. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. It’s just that I saw the tramp and may have seen someone else. It would have been about ten days ago.’

  ‘I’ll get someone across. Are you still in Dorchester?’

  ‘Yes. I’m working from home this morning, at the vicarage. It’s great for a day or two each week. Tony appreciates it, I think.’

  ‘Have you moved in then?’ Sophie wondered what some of the more strait-laced parishioners made of their vicar’s fiancée and her history of moral flexibility, not to mention her penchant for playing the teasing seductress at social events. Had she changed her ways, as she’d claimed when they last met? Sophie had her doubts. Pauline simply oozed mischief from every pore.

  ‘Not officially, no. But I’m here more often than in my own flat. It’s quite a cosy arrangement really. It suits us both. We get to see more of each other.’

  Sophie couldn’t help but think that this throwaway remark contained a hint about the couple’s sex life. Sophie made a face. Better not to pursue that line of thought.

  ‘I’ll see if Rae is free to come across. In about an hour maybe? She’ll have to drive from Wareham.’

  ‘Okay. And congratulations on the promotion. I’m sure you deserved it.’

  Sophie ended the call. Why did she suddenly feel so uneasy?

  Chapter 6: Another Witness

  Late Tuesday Morning

  Rae steered her small car through the open gates of the vicarage, glad not to have to hunt for a parking bay on the street. The team had visited St Paul’s manse in Dorchester several years before, during an earlier investigation, and she remembered the spacious driveway and the creeper-clad building. The old Victorian vicarage had been divided into two flats, with the vicar’s residence occupying the ground floor. Even so, it still had a spacious interior if her memory was correct.

  She clambered out of her car and was greeted by a distracted-looking Tony Younger, standing on the doorstep and hurriedly adjusting his dog-collar. ‘I was just on my way out,’ he said. ‘A meeting about local drug problems. I’ve been asked to chair. We’ll probably end up going round in circles again. It seems to be an issue that can’t be resolved.’

  ‘I don’t envy you,’ Rae answered. ‘I’m here to see Ms Stopley?’

  ‘Yes, she mentioned that someone from the police would be coming. She’s in the back room, working her way through some Arts Council bids. Tearing her hair out, as far as I can tell. Well, I’d better run.’

  And he was off. Rae entered the hallway and pushed the door shut behind her. ‘Hello?’ she called. ‘It’s me, Rae Gregson, from the police.’

  The familiar head, still blonde, appeared around a door at the far end of the narrow hall. ‘I’m in here. You’re just in time for coffee. Give me a moment to tidy my paperwork away.’

  Rae stepped into a spacious, airy room. Pauline was at a table, collecting papers together and sliding them into folders. Rae just managed to stifle a gasp. Pauline was wearing tight-fitting brown leather trousers, an ivory silk blouse and wedge-heeled summer sandals. Her hair was cut shorter than Rae remembered, with flecks of ginger highlights. She looked stunning.

  ‘Done,’ she said as she packed the last folder into a bag. ‘Let’s go through to the kitchen and get some coffee. I’m gasping.’

  ‘I love what you’re wearing,’ Rae said tentatively. ‘I don’t think many of us could get away with it, but on you it’s fabulous.’

  Pauline smiled. ‘Never knowingly underdressed, that’s my motto. Or, to use an old actors’ phrase, “knock ’em dead, honey.”’ She laughed. ‘I’ve got a lunchtime meeting with a banker in a posh restaurant. I’m hoping this’ll land us a bigger donation than he intended to give. Besides, Tony loves it when I look like this, he can’t keep his hands off me.’ She took two mugs from a nearby shelf and started to fill them from a coffee machine. ‘It’s all ready. Tony made it just before he left. He says he didn’t really believe in the devil until he tasted council chamber coffee. Let’s go back through.’

  They sat in two easy chairs looking out through a bay window onto flower beds filled with colour.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Rae said. ‘Who does the gardening? Do you pay someone?’

  Pauline shook her head. ‘No, it’s me. I like getting down and dirty, to borrow a well-known phrase. It plays havoc with my skin though. I get through gallons of hand cream.’

  Rae took out her notebook. ‘We’d better get started. So, when were you on this walk at Arne?’

  ‘A week last Saturday. It was one of our monthly rambles. I’ve stood in as organiser since Flick’s surgery, but that afternoon we were led by Derek, one of our members who’s also a keen birdwatcher. That’s why we were at Arne, although he took us on a walk around the northern bit of the peninsula rather than the southern side. Most people visit the southern route when they’re looking out for birds.’ She opened out a footpath map that had been lying on the table and traced a route with her finger. ‘We left our cars in the RSPB car park and took an anti-clockwise direction. The problem with the north section of Arne is that it’s not all nature reserve, but Derek knows the landowner and had got permission for us to walk along the edge of the mudflats. It was near a marshy area that I saw the tramp and his dog, coming down to the shoreline. It was about here.’ Her finger paused on the map. ‘I was quite a bit behind the others at that point because I’d stopped to retie a shoelace. I think he’d been waiting in the trees for us all to pass before he moved out into the open. Then I blundered along and nearly bumped into him. I said sorry, and he replied that I wasn’t to worry and that it was a beautiful evening. What struck me was the way he spoke.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you imagine that a tramp is going to be a bit, er, rough, but he sounded quite cultured and intelligent. Anyway, that was it. I hurried on to catch up with the others and he disappeared in the direction of the shoreline. It’s the Wareham Channel there, as you can see.’ Pauline’s finger rested on the map.

  Rae produced a small head and shoulders photofit. ‘Was this him?’

  Pauline stared at it. ‘Yes, I think so. He had a crinkled kind of face, whereas in this photo the skin is smooth. But everything else is similar.’

  ‘You told the super that you saw someone else. Is that right?’

  Pauline nodded. ‘That was about an hour later. We were heading home, and I’d just turned into the road from the nature reserve car park. A small car was parked at the side of the road, half on the verge. The lane’s narrow at that point and I can remember wondering what idiot would park in a spot like that, right on a bend. There was a guy clambering over the fence. He was heading into the woods.’

  ‘Did you get a good look at him?’ Rae asked hopefully.

  ‘No. The sun was in my eyes. I think he had a hat on and his jacket collar turned up, but I can’t be totally sure.’

  ‘And the car?’

  ‘It was small and white. That’s all I can tell you.’

  ‘Would some of the other members of your group have seen him too?’

  ‘Possibly, but I was the la
st to leave the car park, I think. I went to the loo when we arrived back from the walk, then had a chat with one of the rangers. He might have only just arrived when I passed him.’

  ‘We’ll need to check, so I’d appreciate a list of everyone who was on the walk. Were there still rangers on duty?’

  ‘It looked as though the one I spoke to was tidying stuff away. I think it was about four thirty or so. Maybe they close up at five.’

  Rae nodded. ‘So, what time do you think you bumped into the tramp near the shoreline?’

  ‘Maybe an hour or so earlier?’ Pauline said after a pause. ‘Difficult to be sure.’

  Rae finished making her notes. She didn’t tell Pauline that her description of the car matched Jade’s exactly. Could she have sighted this man on the evening Prentice was killed, or had he been scouting the place out? She did share one detail with Pauline. ‘Your description of the tramp as sounding educated matches what we’ve learned from another witness, so it would appear to be the same man.’

  Pauline smiled at her. ‘Why did your boss send you to interview me? Didn’t she want to come herself?’

  ‘She’s very busy,’ Rae replied. ‘She always was, but since her promotion it’s gotten even worse. She works too hard. Anyway, she trusts us to ask the right questions. We’ve been thoroughly trained.’

  ‘Us? We?’

  ‘Well, there’s still the two of us. Me and DS Marsh. Although he’s passed his inspector’s exams, so he’ll be promoted soon. And she’s pushing me to sit my sergeant’s exam. She’s always encouraging us to get experience, build up our knowledge and go for promotion. She supports everyone who works for her.’

  ‘So she looks after you, does she?’ Pauline sounded genuinely interested.

  ‘Of course.’ Rae looked at her watch and finished her coffee. ‘Well, I’d better be off.’