by M A Comley
“Sure, can I ask who’s calling?”
“Sorry, I should have said. It’s Sally Parker. Tell him it’s police business, not personal. Thanks.”
“I’ll tell him.”
She hung up and re-joined Joanna. “Fancy a trip out to the mortuary later?”
Joanna pointed at her chest, her eyes wide with shock. “Me? Won’t Jack want to go with you?”
“It’s not his scene.” Sally looked over her shoulder at Jack. “He’ll be leaving us soon. I need you to keep that to yourself for now.”
Joanna gasped. “No. I can’t believe it.”
Sally placed her finger to her lips. “I want him to tell you guys himself, later. Back to the case. What do we know? I’d like to spend the next hour and a half going over the details of the case before we head off.”
She pulled a nearby chair close to Joanna’s, and together, they sifted through the case notes. “Bloody Falkirk strikes again by the looks of things. Do we know what evidence he found against the husband?”
“I’ve seen the evidence sheet somewhere.” Joanna rifled through the pages and withdrew a sheet. “Here it is. Blood on Craig Gillan’s cable-knit jumper. States here that it was deemed incriminating because it looked as though someone had tried to wash the garment to hide the evidence.”
“Okay, maybe I was too quick to come down heavily on Falkirk this time. Have you got Gillan’s statement there? What did he say about the stain?”
Joanna placed the statement in front of Sally. “Here you go.”
“Right, he said his wife used to have a lot of nosebleeds. That’s feasible, I guess.”
“If she was prone to having them, then they can strike at any time. My poor mum used to suffer dreadfully from the damn things.”
“How awful. I’ve never had one myself, that is, without someone’s fist inflicting an injury.” She thought back to her life with Darryl and the couple of times he’d bopped her on the nose. She shuddered.
Joanna rubbed her arm, as if sensing what she was thinking about.
“I’m fine. What other statements do we have in there? Anything to say he was an abusive partner?”
“Plenty of statements. No mention of any abuse. Seems a tad strange to me.”
Sally cushioned her chin between her forefinger and thumb. “Hmm… that seems very odd. Did they have any children? I really need to brush up on the case. Let’s see what the newspaper archives can tell us.”
Joanna tapped away at the keyboard until the monitor brought up a clip from The Norfolk Post, a local newspaper that had, unfortunately, since folded. Together, Sally and Joanna read through the article. The first fact that Sally jotted down in her notebook was that Craig and Anne Gillan had a son of five and a daughter of eight at the time of her death. “What happened to the children? Who brought them up?”
Joanna looked through the case notes again and tapped her finger. “I’ve got a Patricia Millward listed down here as being Anne’s mother. Maybe she took on the job of raising the children.”
“Search for her address. It seems a good place to start to me.”
Joanna brought up the electoral roll and located the woman’s address instantly. Sally handed Joanna her notebook so that she could jot it down.
“Can you give her a ring? See if she has time for a quick chat this afternoon. Say, around three? That will give us enough time to talk with Simon before we go over there.”
Sally’s enthusiasm for the case grew exponentially. What a great case for the new team to begin with. According to Craig Gillan’s statement and the newspaper article, the man had always insisted he was innocent. Sally studied the picture they had on file of him. Looking deep into his grey eyes, she found an overwhelming sadness. If Falkirk had refused to listen to Gillan’s alibi and accused him of killing his wife, then Craig wouldn’t have had the time to grieve properly for Anne before Falkirk threw him in prison. Of course, there was every chance that he was guilty of the crime, but considering the other case Inspector Falkirk had messed up, she would rather assume Gillan was innocent until she found something damning enough to put the rubber-stamped guilty mark on his file.
“All sorted, boss. Three o’clock this afternoon. She seemed astounded by the call.”
“I’m not surprised. Let’s see what else we can dig up before we visit her.”
An hour and a half whizzed past. The next thing Sally knew, Jack was standing over them, clearing his throat. “Did I hear you right? That you had an appointment with Simon coming up?”
Sally glanced up at the clock on the wall and leapt out of her chair. “Damn, we were so engrossed, I forgot the time. Are you ready to go, Joanna?”
“Yep, I’m good to go.”
They pulled up outside the mortuary department at the hospital twenty minutes later. She hated being late. Luckily, they had a few minutes to spare before that happened.
Simon was still dressed in his operating greens when Sally and Joanna walked through the corridor. “Looks like we’re both running behind a little. Wait in my office. I’ll just get changed.”
Sally moved two chairs from against the wall and positioned them in front of his desk. When he entered the room a few minutes later, he placed a tender kiss on Sally’s forehead, and she felt her cheeks colour up.
Then he extended his hand to Joanna. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Simon Bracknall, and you are?”
“DC Joanna Tryst, sir.”
Simon frowned. “Simon will do. I’m not your senior, Joanna. Where’s Jack?”
Sally shifted in her seat. “I’ll fill you in later. Unfortunately, he’s decided not to come on this exciting journey with us.”
“Really? Wow, I didn’t see that coming.”
“Neither did I. Simon, I need to ask you about the remains that were found in the river last week.”
He shook his head. “Dreadful case. Gosh, are you dealing with it?”
“Yes, looks like it. Can you tell us how they were found, by whom?”
He reached for a file on his desk, passed it to Sally, then bounced back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “The remains were found at Acle, when the river was being dredged. As you can imagine, the woman’s corpse was nothing more than a skeleton after all these years in the water. The lab identified her from dental records.”
“She’s definitely been in there for fifteen years then?”
“Yes, in my expert opinion.
“How was she killed?”
“Several wounds to her chest and neck. Looks like a large knife. The attack was vicious and personal. Again, that’s just my opinion.”
“Is it likely that the husband did this, Simon?”
“Attacks like this usually determine that as a conclusion. I looked into his case. He’s always pleaded his innocence and has kept his nose clean whilst inside.”
“Well, we’re taking the case on. Fifteen years that man has been sitting in prison, separated from his children. Why didn’t her body resurface after a few months or years?”
“Because it was weighted down with a hessian sack full of bricks.”
Sally’s brow furrowed. “So, it was a premeditated murder. Who in their right mind carries around with them a sack and bricks just in case?”
“Hard to believe, right? Which is probably why the SIO at the time pointed the finger at the husband as opposed to a stranger out on the prowl.”
“Hmm… in that case, we’ll need to question all the family and friends again, in the hope that someone will remember something that was said back then. Or if any of them show any signs of guilt when we interview them. Either way, we have a challenging time ahead of us. Was there anything else that we should know about?”
“Not really. I can’t tell you for definite how many times she was stabbed, but after studying the nicks in her ribs and sternum, I counted at least fifteen stab wounds. There could have been a lot more than that if the knife was thrust between the ribs, et cetera. Either way, my take is that someone was
determined to kill her for whatever reason, and they succeeded.”
“Thanks, Simon. We’re just going over to see the victim’s mother now. Not sure what state she’s going to be in after all these years and being confronted with the news that her daughter’s remains were found last week. I’ll see you later.”
Simon walked them to the door of his office, his hand rubbing up and down Sally’s back. She found his touch comforting and was dying to feel his lips on hers, but she restrained herself admirably in front of Joanna.
“Good to meet you, Joanna. Look after her for me.”
Joanna laughed. “I think it’ll be the other way around, Simon. Hope to see you soon.”
“Not too soon,” Sally said, briefly kissing Simon on the cheek.
“Nice perk to lift my day. Take care.”
“Oh, one last thing. Have you informed Anne’s mother when her daughter’s, er… remains will be released?”
“I have. The funeral home is due to pick her up this afternoon.”
“Thanks.”
Sally was sure that Patricia Millward would be tearful during their visit and so she tried to prepare herself on the journey.
She pulled up outside a retirement bungalow situated at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac and applied the handbrake. “Deep breaths, here we go. It’ll be hard for you to deal with this side of things to begin with, Joanna. Don’t think you’re letting me down if the emotions take over and get the better of you in there, all right?”
Joanna sighed heavily. “I can feel the back of my eyes heating up already.”
“Try and keep a lid on it, if you’re able to. There will be times when that’ll be difficult. Just remember this happened fifteen years ago.”
“Yes, boss. I’ll try.”
CHAPTER FOUR
A grey-haired lady was tending to her roses in the garden of her home. “Hello, you must be Inspector Parker. I’ve been looking out for you.”
Although the woman smiled, Sally noticed that her eyes were full of sorrow. “That’s right, and this is my partner, Detective Constable Joanna Tryst. It’s kind of you to see us at short notice, Mrs. Millward.”
“Let’s go inside. I hate the nosey neighbours knowing my business.”
Mrs. Millward led them inside her spacious bungalow and into the lounge, where they found her husband sitting in an upright armchair, reading a daily newspaper. He tucked the paper behind him and stood up to greet Sally and Joanna. Sally saw that the man had a cane resting beside his chair and that he had a slight curvature of the spine.
“Hello, Mr. Millward. I’m DI Sally Parker of the newly formed cold-case team, and this is my partner, DC Joanna Tryst. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
“Thank you for coming, Inspector. Won’t you take a seat?”
Sally and Joanna sat on the fabric couch as instructed.
Mrs. Millward had remained by the door. “Can I get you both a drink? It won’t take me long; the kettle is already boiled.”
“That would be lovely. Coffee for me, white with one sugar. Joanna?”
“The same for me. That’s very kind of you.”
Mr. Millward returned to his seat, and he winced as he lowered himself into the chair. “Darn hip is playing up again. I’ll be glad when they call me in for the operation to replace it. Don’t ever get old, lasses. It’s a bugger when your body starts breaking down.”
“Sorry to hear that, Mr. Millward.”
“You calling me that doesn’t help, either. It’s Fred, and my wife is called Patricia. We’re not one for all this pomp and ceremony. We’re down-to-earth folks who miss our daughter terribly.”
“I can imagine.” Sally swiftly left her chair when Patricia walked into the room carrying a fully laden tray. She took it from the lady and placed it on the coffee table in between all the chairs.
“Thank you. It was heavier than I anticipated. I brought you each a slice of my fruit cake; only came out of the oven a few hours ago. Baking relaxes me, you see. Helps me to put things into perspective. You’ll have a piece, won’t you?”
“I’d love some. Totally forgot to eat at lunchtime, so it will fill a hole, thank you.”
Sally waited until Patricia had handed everyone their mugs of coffee and a slice of cake before she broached the subject of Anne. “I was sorry to learn about your daughter’s case. As I said, we’ve only just been assigned the task of looking through a batch of cold-cases that have come to our attention. I wasn’t aware of your daughter’s case until this morning. It was a shock to learn that her body had been discovered only last week. For you, too, I should imagine.”
The couple glanced at each other, and a silent message passed between them. It was Patricia who cleared her throat and spoke first. “We’re not sure how to feel, Inspector. We’re still rather numb about it. It’s difficult to grieve without a loved one’s body, I suppose. I don’t know what’s worse: her being missing for fifteen years, not knowing whether she was dead or alive, or them finding only her bones.”
Sally’s heart felt as if a giant hand was squeezing it. “I’m sorry. It must be hard. Remember her as she was.”
Patricia withdrew a tissue from the box sitting on the side table beside her and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
Sally smiled gently. “Are you up to going over the case with us? Or would you rather leave it for another day?”
“No, I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible, dear, if it’s all the same to you. Agreed, Fred?”
Fred nodded and reached out a hand to her. Patricia slipped her hand gently into his. “Yes, wholeheartedly.”
Sally could tell the couple loved each other deeply and thought the pain and heartache they had been subjected to had probably drawn them closer together.
“Feel free to stop at any time. Before you begin, perhaps you can tell me what your relationship with Craig Gillan was like first?”
Patricia smiled. “We loved him as if he were our own son. Knew he was innocent. From the second that bumbling inspector—sorry if that sounds disrespectful—turned up and jubilantly announced that he’d arrested Craig for her murder. We told him instantly that he had made a dreadful mistake. He seemed dumbstruck at the time. I can remember his jaw dropping open. It obviously wasn’t how he’d expected us to react when he broke the news. Craig loved Anne with all his heart. He would never have laid a hand on her, and he knew what would have happened if Fred had ever found out he had. He just wasn’t—sorry, isn’t that kind of chap. He abhors any form of abuse, verbal or physical. I remember one day we were at the park feeding the ducks on a family outing. He saw a man and a woman arguing. The man suddenly grabbed hold of the woman’s hair and was threatening to bash her with his fist, until Craig shot over there and gripped him round the throat.”
“He had a violent streak then?” Sally asked, her heart sinking a little.
“No, not in that sense. Only when someone was doing something drastically wrong to someone else. He would never have treated Anne like that. He loved her to bits. Had done since they were at school together.”
“Have you remained in contact with Craig since his imprisonment?”
“Oh, yes. We raised the children as our own and reported to him monthly by letter how they were getting on. He’s always thanked us for that, says it’s the one thing that kept him going in there. I dread to think what the poor boy would have done if we hadn’t stayed in touch.”
“What about the children? A boy and a girl, I believe. Did they visit their father frequently?”
Patricia’s smile diminished, and her head dropped a little. “Molly always visited her father. Still does, every month without fail. Jamie has always refused to go with her, couldn’t get past his father’s conviction. He was fine up until the day he discovered the jury had found Craig guilty. Jamie broke off all contact with his father from that day. No matter what I say to him, every time we discuss his father, he leaves the room in disgust. It’s pitiful, really. We’re all in Craig’s corn
er, except Jamie. That hurts Craig more than anything else in this world. He’s suffered untold abuse and beatings inside, but none of that compares to the hurt he’s had to contend with because his son refuses to speak to him.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. It must be hard for both parties concerned. How old was Jamie when his father went to prison?”
“Only five. Molly was eight, just that little bit older and able to cope with things far better. But then, girls grow up quicker than boys, don’t they? The outcome might have been different if Jamie was the eldest, but I guess that’s something we’ll never know.”
“Terrible situation. I’m so glad you took them under your wing,” Sally stated before taking a sip from her coffee and tearing off a little piece of the scrumptious cake to nibble on.
“It was hard to cope with him, and we debated letting Social Services have him at one point, only for the briefest of moments. He’s been in terrible trouble with the police over the years. He went into his shell, refused to discuss either of his parents, as if they had let him down. Which I suppose they had, but it was none of their choosing. They both didn’t deliberately go out of their way to either be killed or to be put in prison. Some people get set in their ways, and nothing you say or do will put things right in their eyes. That’s Jamie all over.”
“Do both children still live with you?”
“No. Jamie left us as soon as he turned sixteen. Not sure where he is now. I think Molly has a rough idea of his whereabouts, but she keeps it from us rather than upset us. That boy has put us through hell over the years. Don’t get me wrong, we haven’t cut him out of our life. It was his choice to leave and never to get in touch with us again. We have to accept that. Otherwise, we’d worry ourselves sick with what he’s up to now. Molly said that she told him his mother’s body was discovered last week, but she was very cagey about how he’d reacted to the news. Hopefully, it will mean closure for him. However, I don’t suppose that will come until he learns that his father is exonerated. That is how this will end, Inspector?”