by Candy Denman
“It’s possible,” she replied. “Ted knows a lot of people in London. He’s a sociable man, you’ve seen that. He flirts with everyone. Men and women. People get the wrong idea.”
“In what way?”
“They think he’s interested in them when he isn’t really.” She gave Callie a look that suggested Callie was one of those people.
“Did you know he was gay?” Callie asked. She didn’t honestly believe that his wife wouldn’t know if he was, but it was always possible. She took another sip, once she had got over the shock at how sweet it was, she had to admit it was quite nice. Sugar was a treat she didn’t often allow herself, so she had some more, she deserved it after the shock of being found behind the garage. Sweet tea for shock, that was what they said, didn’t they?
“He isn’t, strictly speaking. That would be too easy, too uncomplicated for Ted. He is attracted to people of either sex, or rather, both sexes,” Mrs Savage continued. “I’ve always known that, but I loved him and wanted to try and make a go of it. I thought we would, for a while, despite his frequent infidelities.” She seemed truly sad that it hadn’t worked out as well as she had hoped.
“It must have been difficult.”
“Yes. I knew he was seeing other people, of course, but I had no idea about the rent boys, or the drugs. I would have stopped it if I had known, you see, told him to stop destroying everything we had worked so hard to build. Then that boy turned up and tried to get money out of us.”
Callie’s eyes had begun to close, she was feeling so tired, but they opened with a jolt as she realised that Mrs Savage had known about the blackmail. Or had Callie just told her, she couldn’t quite remember the conversation. What had she said?
“As if I would ever let a nobody like him ruin a good man’s career. Ted was worth a hundred times more than that, that skinny streak of street scum,” Mrs Savage continued. “I mean, I could cope with the other people, he could always come out of the closet, or confess to being a sex addict and if that was all it was, there would have been no danger, nothing to threaten us with. I could have put a positive spin on it, about him having the courage to come out, tell the truth. I could have been the understanding wife and helper, standing by him. We could still live together, even. But this!”
Callie was struggling to understand what she was saying, and her voice seemed to be coming from further away.
“Ted’s failing is that he’s just too trusting. He always wants to believe the best of people, to help them, even if they don’t deserve it. He wanted to pay the boy off, thought that would be the end of it, can you believe it?”
Callie’s eyes were closing again and she felt the tea slop onto her hand, she went to put the mug down, but missed the worktop. The mug smashed on the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” she slurred and tried to get off the stool but found that her legs didn’t seem to want to do what they were told. How embarrassing, to be drunk and incapable in this lovely house, she needed to get back to her own home. Mrs Savage didn’t seem concerned, or even to have noticed the broken mug and spilled tea, she just carried on talking about stuff that Callie was having difficulty taking in.
“I couldn’t let anyone stop Ted’s career, could I? His work is just too important. Even if the person who was doing the destroying was Ted himself.”
Callie realised she had been drugged; the taste disguised by the sugar. She was ridiculously pleased with herself for being able to work it out. The question now was, what was she going to do about it? She shook her head, trying to clear it, but it just made her dizzy and she had to hold on to the breakfast bar to stop herself from falling off the stool.
“The boy wasn’t really a problem, I borrowed Ted’s phone and invited him down for a party. Ted often had parties, always in London because it would be hard to keep it quiet in a small village like this.”
Callie could believe it. Stopping the boys from making a noise, or running down the beach for a midnight skinny dip, would be difficult.
“The boy was surprised to be met at the station by me rather than Ted but once I’d told him I was taking him to our yacht where this supposed party was taking place, and that Ted would give him the money there, he was quite happy. Chatting away non-stop. I suspect he had taken a little something, some Dutch courage before facing Ted. Makes sense, don’t you think?”
Callie was finding it hard to make sense of anything at all. She felt awful.
“Anyway, it all worked to my advantage and he went with me to the marina and got in my little boat no problem at all. How was he to know we don’t have a yacht, just a little inflatable with an outboard.” She laughed at the boy’s silly mistake. “I gave him an alcopop I’d added a little extra something to, to get him in the party mood, I said. Ketamine really isn’t that hard to get hold of, you know. My brother, well, he has his uses, let’s say. Daniel didn’t suspect anything was wrong with the drink, although it took quite a long time to work. How are you feeling, Dr Hughes?”
“Okay.” Callie tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure she had succeeded, she wasn’t sure she had replied either, but Mrs Savage didn’t seem to mind.
“He kept asking me how far it was, how long it would take to get there.” She smiled sadly at the memory. “I had to say the boat was down the coast quite a way, he didn’t know any better, didn’t notice that we were going round in circles and then he fell asleep, just like I’d planned. Didn’t stir when I took off some of his more distinctive clothes and jewellery. Put him in an old shirt and tied the remains of one of those useless life jackets that were washing up all along the coast around his waist.” She paused, remembering how it had all happened. “It was a little harder to tip him over the side than I’d expected, and I had to hold him under using the paddle, until I was sure he was beyond saving, but it worked perfectly. Just one more body amongst all those others, until you started with your nasty little suspicions, suggesting he wasn’t the same as them.”
Callie found herself apologising, even though she wasn’t quite sure what for; it was enough that this kind, capable woman was cross with her, wasn’t it? Or was she kind? Kind people didn’t drug and kill boys, did they? Callie couldn’t think.
“The girl was more of a problem. I hadn’t expected her to turn up at the constituency office. Should have realised the boy would have told someone where he was going, what he was doing.”
Callie remembered the girl’s head wound. They always bled a lot. That would explain the need to redecorate the office, burn the carpet.
“Why did he kill her?” Callie asked in a slurred voice – at least she thought she asked but Mrs Savage carried on talking, ignoring the question as she walked around the breakfast bar.
“There was a bit of a confrontation, I hadn’t even realised I had picked up the kettle. I think I was going to suggest a cup of tea. Quite a mess. Good job my brother works at that building company, he was a great help, again. Made sure they came round to clean up nice and quick and then let me know when you made them keep hold of the carpet. Of course, I had to pay more, nearly double, and then more again for him to set fire to it all. He didn’t know why the police were interested in it. I told him Ted had been accused of rape by some little tart, and that we needed to get rid of the carpet in case there was semen on it. You know, like Bill Clinton and that dress.”
She was standing beside Callie now and put her arm round her, gently helping her off the stool. Callie was very grateful to her, because she certainly couldn’t have managed it herself, for some reason, the room seemed to be moving in circles around her. It was hard to remain upright.
“Let me help you down the stairs, dear. You know they really are very steep.”
Callie was having great difficulty placing one foot in front of the other. The stairs seemed a long way away. She felt as if everything was sliding away from her and the light kept fading in from the edges, not smoothly but in jagged little pieces. She had no idea what time of day it was or how long she had been there.
Suddenly there was the bang of a door closing and Mrs Savage froze for a moment.
“Hello?” A man’s voice came up the stairs and Mrs Savage let go of Callie. Without her support, Callie slid slowly to the floor.
There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then Ted Savage was there.
“What the hell’s going on, Teresa?”
“She knows.”
“You said you had it all under control.”
“I did, but I found her snooping round, looking for the boat.”
Ted knelt down beside her and Callie struggled to focus on his face, so that she could understand what he was saying to her. She hoped it would help, because she hadn’t got a clue what was going on, either.
“Are you all right, Dr Hughes?” he asked her solicitously. There was also more than a hint of anxiety in his voice, she thought. “Are you hurt?”
She tried to shake her head but that only made things worse.
“Drugged,” she managed to say through thick lips. She hoped he understood what she was saying because she wasn’t sure how clearly she was speaking and she didn’t think she could manage to say it again. He nodded his understanding.
“We need to deal with her.” Mrs Savage was taking charge again and Callie knew that was not a good thing. “Find her keys, they must be in her jacket pocket.”
“No!”
Callie was surprised by the vehemence in his tone.
“We have to do it. She knows everything.”
“I can’t.”
“You are so bloody useless!” Mrs Savage shouted at him and then bent down and started going though Callie’s pockets, finding her keys quickly.
“Go and fetch her car and bring it to the front door.” She handed the keys to Ted. “Now!” she ordered.
He moved towards the stairs but then stopped and stood there for a moment, doing nothing. Callie tried to will him to refuse.
“This isn’t right,” he said, weakly.
“You brought this on yourself,” his wife said, “with your stupid self-destructive behaviour. Now you have to help me clear it up.”
“I can’t. It has to stop.”
“You managed to help me get rid of the girl’s body. This is no different. Now go and get the bloody car!”
But still he didn’t move to do as she ordered.
“No. This is different.”
“In what way?”
“She’s alive, for God’s sake.”
“Well, if that’s your only worry,” she spat.
Mrs Savage went to the kitchen area and came back with a large, cast-iron frying pan. She headed over to where Callie was half-sitting half-lying near the top of the stairs, drawing back her weapon as she did so, preparing to strike. Callie tried to hold up an arm to protect herself but, she knew, even in her drugged state, that her arm would be useless to stop the blow, even if she did manage to raise it. There was nothing she could do to stop herself from being killed and she felt strangely calm about it.
“No!” Ted grabbed the pan and wrenched it out of his wife’s grasp. “You can’t, Teresa. I won’t let you hurt anyone else. It has to stop.”
She lunged at him, trying to get the pan from him and in the struggle to keep it, he pushed her away from him, a hard push, a deliberate push, and there was a surprised cry and the sound of someone tumbling, bumping down the stairs.
Ted stood there, frozen. An anguished expression on his face, frying pan in his hand, looking down towards the hallway.
Callie managed to get onto her hands and knees and crawl to where she could see. Mrs Savage lay in a crumpled heap, her head against the front door and her neck at an odd angle as a slowly expanding pool of blood formed under her head.
Ted Savage let out a whimper and dropped the pan, making Callie jump. He didn’t go to his wife, but came and sat next to Callie, tears pouring down his face. She comforted him, as best she could, just by being there.
After what seemed an age, but was probably no more than ten minutes, Ted reached into his pocket and brought out his phone. To Callie’s relief he called for the emergency services, because she was in no state to do it. Once she knew help was on its way, she closed her eyes and let sleep take over.
Chapter 34
Callie was sitting in the back of an ambulance, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She was shaking with a mixture of cold, fear, shock and whatever drugs she had been given by Teresa Savage, as Miller came and sat next to her.
“We must stop meeting like this,” he said, voice deep and cracking with concern, belying the smile he was trying his best to muster.
Callie tried to smile back too, but she found her chin was wobbling slightly.
They watched as two white-suited technicians wheeled a trolley, loaded with a full body bag, to a plain grey mortuary van. Mrs Savage was leaving home for the final time.
“She was completely mad,” was all Callie could say as a tear made its way down her cheek. “A monster.”
“Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?” he asked, gently wiping the tear away with his thumb.
She did manage a better smile at that, and a sniff. He slid his arm round her shoulders and pulled her close. It felt nice.
“So, she killed both of them on her own? My body number nine and Michelle Carlisle?” she said into his chest.
“Yes.”
She could sense that he had nodded and when he spoke, she felt the gentle vibration of the sound in his chest.
“Well, according to the Right Honourable Ted Savage, anyway.” He was unable to keep the cynicism from his voice.
Callie had watched as the MP had been taken away in the back of a squad car, still white with shock.
“He says he knew nothing about the first death,” Miller continued. “He hadn’t even recognised the post-mortem photo we put out as being the person who had tried to blackmail him. Apparently, his wife said she had dealt with the problem and he assumed she had paid the boy off. It wasn’t until she called him to help her with the girl’s body because she couldn’t manage to get rid of her on her own that he realised what had happened.”
“Her brother helped too, with the clean-up, but I don’t think he knew she’d killed anyone.”
“No, he didn’t. Jayne Hales worked out their relationship and we picked him up earlier. He’ll get charged with arson and assisting an offender, but probably nothing more serious.”
“And what about Ted?”
Somehow, despite the fact that he had happily taken part in orgies and drug-taking with young men, or in some cases, boys, and had helped his wife cover up the second murder, she still managed to feel concerned for him.
“Well, he’s co-operating fully at the moment.” Miller didn’t seem to have the same feeling. “Although I have no doubt once his brief arrives, we’ll be told his confession was coerced because he was in shock, but I think there’s enough proof to show that he at least helped her move the girl’s body. From that time, if not earlier, he must have been aware of what she’d done, what she was capable of doing. He will have to be charged with being an accessory.”
“He saved my life.”
“Yes, and I haven’t forgotten that.”
“And killing his wife was an accident. She fell down the stairs. He was just trying to stop her from braining me with the frying pan.” Although Callie wasn’t quite sure about that – there had been quite a considerable amount of force behind the push, hadn’t there? More than was strictly necessary, but in the heat of the moment, who can say how much force is necessary?
“And I’m sure it will help reduce his sentence, but I’d bet my house that he’ll still get a custodial sentence. There’s no way round the fact that he knowingly helped his wife dispose of a body, even if she did tell him that she’d killed the girl in self-defence.”
“She told me she just lost it and hadn’t realised she had a kettle in her hand.” But Callie didn’t really believe that. The girl had been a threat to Ted and his precious caree
r and Mrs Savage had removed that threat. Just like she had done with Daniel before her.
“Yes, well, we’ll wait for your statement until whatever drugs she plied you with are out of your system. Don’t want them saying you were off your−”
“Tits.” Jeffries helpfully provided the word.
Callie sat up, suddenly; she hadn’t even noticed he was there, and it seemed that Miller hadn’t either as he quickly released his hold and moved away from her. She could feel a blush starting at her throat and steadily rising to her cheeks, and she could tell that Jeffries had noticed it too, by the way he was grinning.
“Your boyfriend called you on your phone, Doc,” Jeffries said and held out her mobile, which she must have dropped in the house.
“He’s coming over to collect you, take you to the hospital for a blood test, so we know what she gave you.”
“I’m pretty sure it was ketamine, same as body number nine,” she said, trying to sound professional in front of the detective sergeant, but he continued to smirk, loving every minute of both her and his boss’s discomfort.
Epilogue
The papers had been full of the case for weeks it seemed to Callie, and, inevitably, it was the story of the gay politician taking part in sex and drug orgies that dominated the headlines, rather than a man whose wife was prepared to kill anyone who stood in the way of his career.
There were endless discussions of why people in power put themselves in terrible positions, self-destructing so publicly, and every political sex scandal in history was rehashed for the readers and viewers.
“I think she actually drove him to it,” Callie confided in Billy. “She controlled every aspect of his life. She was the one with the power, and we all know what power does.”
They were watching yet another item on the news about Ted’s glittering career and its end.
“Orgies are not the recommended way of taking back control of your life,” Billy said drily. “Neither is killing your wife. Divorce would have been a better idea.”
“She would never have let him get away from her so easily.” Callie smiled. “You have to remember, this was everything she had ever dreamed of – position, status, power – albeit second-hand. She was prepared to kill to keep it. If he’d tried to divorce her, she’d probably have killed him.”