'I wanted to go to the party, but I knew my parents wouldn't let me,' Morgan gasped out the words.
Sally looked at Hannah Pence waiting for her to say something.
'I knew nothing about any party now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find a doctor, my husband is seriously ill.'
Sally watched as the mother briefly flicked a sharp look at her daughter before she turned and marched away along the corridor.
Shaun glanced at the girl as the tears slipped from her eyes.
'Your mother knew nothing about you and Scott, did she?' he asked.
Morgan looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling. 'I never told either of my parents,' she admitted
'Can I ask why?'
More tears slid free, and Morgan wiped then away with the back of her hand. 'I have exams coming up, and they would have seen him as a distraction and tried to stop me from seeing him.'
'That's why you couldn't make the party?'
Morgan nodded. 'I couldn't think of an excuse to go, and then it got too late, and I was so scared because Scott had told me that if I didn't go to the party then he would take Clara Bell instead.'
'Can you tell us what sort of girl Clara is?' Sally asked, keeping her voice even and her face impassive so as to avoid passing any kind of judgement.
For the briefest of moments, they both saw a flash of dislike pass across Morgan's face and then her shoulders slumped.
'The truth is I don't really know her; we've never been what you would call friends.'
'Did you know that Scott liked her?'
Morgan chewed her lip for a couple of seconds. 'A lot of the boys at school like Clara.'
'And why's that?' Sally asked, tilting her head slightly.
Morgan shrugged, she could feel the heat starting to build in her cheeks, this whole thing was the stuff of nightmares, her father was ill, her mother had looked at her in disgust before storming away and now she felt as if she were being grilled by the two officers who stood in front of her.
'She looks older,' Morgan said lamely.
Sally and Shaun exchanged a quick knowing glance, and then Sally smiled.
'Well, thanks for your help, Morgan, and we both really hope that your father gets well soon.'
'Is that it?' Morgan asked, and then cringed inside as she heard the relief in her voice. She sounded guilty as if trying to hide something from the two of them.
'At some point we may need to talk to you again, but unless you have anything else you can tell us then we're done for now,' Sally explained.
Morgan shook her head. 'Like I said, I don't really know Clara, we don't share any classes and we have different friends,' she explained.
'Would you like us to wait until your mother gets back?' Shaun asked.
'Er no, I'm fine thanks,' Morgan tried to smile but then another couple of tears slid free and trickled down her cheeks.
She watched as the two officers walked away, and then she looked back at her father, he still looked terrible, like a vague outline as if he was not really there at all.
She had no idea how long she stood there lost in the horror, then the double doors to her left sprang open, and her mother appeared, Morgan could see the anger in the way her face was set, could see it in her eyes, the hurt and fear mingling with the deep-seated fury.
By the time she came to a stop, Morgan was looking down at the floor, unable to meet her mother's gaze.
'I've just spoken to the doctor in charge, they say your father is still being monitored and they are due to do more tests and scans today.'
'Do they know what's the matter with him yet?'
'Not yet, but they're hoping that later today they will be more informed about what to do next.'
'But why won't he wake up?' Morgan asked as she slowly lifted her head.
'Because they are keeping him that way until they know what they're dealing with,' Hannah replied and looked through the glass at her husband.
Under any other circumstances she would have asked Morgan why she had kept her boyfriend a secret, she had no idea who Scott Clark was, but he was dead, and some girl named Clara Bell had been snatched from the roadside.
Hannah Pence shivered, if Morgan had made up some excuse and gone to the party with her secret boyfriend then she would have been the one who had been taken, it was as simple as that.
Despite her best efforts, the image of her standing here with her husband clinging onto life and her daughter missing was the kind of thing that could break your will and your mind at the same time, a nightmare without end and she felt her body jerk in fear.
When she felt the brush of Morgan's hand against her own, she grabbed it and held on tight as they both looked towards the man they loved, a mother and daughter united in grief.
Hannah closed her eyes and trembled in a deep breath.
'I'm sorry,' Morgan whispered.
Hannah didn't look at her, instead she merely tightened her grip as the tears slipped from her eyes.
48
Lasser lifted the handbrake as Bannister took the call from Sally Wright, the rain had eased slightly, though the stable yard looked drab. The stables themselves were made of corrugated sheets of rusting metal, the doors looked flimsy, the yard had patches of straw scattered amongst the large puddles of standing water.
There were two other cars parked up, one was a rusting Land Rover, the other was a new version of the same car, gleaming and rust free.
'OK, Sally, thanks for letting us know,' Bannister said as he ended the call, sighing as he glanced at Lasser.
'No luck?' Lasser asked as a young woman in her mid-twenties appeared from one of the stables, straw sticking to her clothing and long brown hair.
'Morgan Pence should have been the one at the party with Clark, but it turns out her parents didn't even know that she was seeing the lad, and she couldn't think of an excuse to sneak out and meet him.'
'So, Clark took Clara Bell instead?' Lasser asked, the need for a cigarette growing as he watched the woman head across the yard before vanishing into another outbuilding.
'That's about the size of it.'
'Lucky girl,' Lasser mumbled.
'Hardly that with her father being at death's door.'
Lasser's right hand slipped from the wheel. 'Like I said, you can get over being jilted, but Clara Bell doesn't have that luxury.'
'This looks like a shithole of a place,' Bannister suddenly said. 'But come on, let's see what the owner has to say,' he pushed the door open and paused for a moment to zip up his jacket.
Lasser followed suit and then they were heading for the cottage to the left, the small windows looked as if they had never been cleaned since the putty was put in place, the front door appeared warped in the timber frame, the roof seemed bowed as if under some vast invisible weight.
They were six feet from the door when it opened and a stocky man in his fifties appeared, his hair cut close to the bone, dressed in a pair of wellington boots, sporting an ancient-looking wax jacket and jeans, the stub of a cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth.
'Can I help you?' he asked, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
Lifting the ID from his pocket, Bannister held it out, and the man peered at if for a few seconds before slipping his hands into the pocket of his jacket. 'It's been a long time since the police have been in this yard,' he said, plucking the cigarette from his mouth.
'Do you own this place?' Bannister asked as he flicked the hood over his head.
'I know it's not much to look at but, yeah, I own it.'
'We're here about something that happened on the lane twenty-one years ago,' Bannister explained.
'Sharon Bliss,' the man said before dropping the cigarette to the straw-covered ground.
Lasser watched his face closely as the man sighed and tilted his head, momentarily letting the rain fall onto his upturned face. 'You know about it then?' Bannister asked.
'Yeah, I do, my old man was running the stables back then,
but I was here when it happened.'
'Did the police come and question anyone at the time?' Lasser asked.
'They did, I mean, Sharon had kept her horse on here for the best part of ten years before she was murdered, she was only a kid when she first came here and she used to help the older girls with the mucking out, and then she would get a free ride.'
'You knew her quite well then?'
'Aye I did, to be honest most of the riders who come here tend to stay for years, we've always been the cheapest stables in the area, I know the place isn't much to look at, but we know our horses, and they're always looked after, and the riders appreciate that.'
'You said you were you here on the day that she died?' Bannister asked from beneath his hood.
'I was, it was a piss-poor day, a bit like today, and I remember thinking that Sharon was late, that wasn't like her, she was always here early doors, and I asked a couple of the girls if they knew where she was, but they said they hadn't seen her. Back then, not all the youngsters had mobile phones so I couldn't ring, and then I got busy with a lesson and forgot about it,' he paused, 'that was until the police arrived and told us what had happened.'
'That must have been a shock,' Lasser said.
'Funny thing is, I knew one of the coppers – Tom Barry – used to go into the local, and he was the one who told me.'
'I'm sorry but I never asked your name?' Bannister said as he thrust out his hand.
'Mick Burns,' he replied, shaking the proffered hand.
'We know it happened a long time ago but what else can you remember about that day?'
Burns fished in his pocket and pulled out another cigarette and lit it, Lasser watched the smoke drift away with envious eyes.
'There were four coppers turned up with the dog walker who found Sharon, in fact I knew him as well, his name was Andy Dyson, but he died years ago, but he looked as white as a sheet, I remember that.'
'What about the other people who were here on that day?' Bannister asked shifting his feet on the mud-strewn ground.
'There was me and my old dad and about a dozen riders.'
'All female?'
Burns nodded. 'You get one or two guys who like to ride but not so much back then.'
'So, no one left this yard in a car before Sharon was killed?'
Burns eyes widened slightly. 'Hang on, are you saying that somebody who was here on that day could have killed her?'
'Look, we're just trying to get to the bottom of this…'
'But why now?' Burns asked as he took a quick pull on the cigarette.
'Because it's our job,' Lasser replied.
Burns glanced at him looking unconvinced with the answer. 'Like I said, there was only me and the old man who were here on the day she died, and none of the girls were old enough to drive let alone own a car.'
'Did anyone drop any of the girls off and then leave?'
'You mean like a dad dropping off his daughter?' Burns asked with a frown.
'That's right,' Bannister said with a nod.
Burns slowly shook his head. 'All of the riders back then lived local, occasionally they might have got dropped at the end of the lane and they would walk the rest of the way, but to be honest the track has always been a bit ramshackle, and a couple of drivers had lost exhaust pipes getting down here, so they tended to avoid the place.'
Bannister could feel the disappointment as his shoulders slumped.
'So, no one drove down here that day to drop their daughter off?' Lasser double-checked.
'Not that I'm aware of, but to be honest I was busy that morning giving lessons so most of my time was spent around the back in the paddock. I suppose it's possible that someone dropped one of the girls off, but I didn't see anyone and besides, as I said, it was unusual for that to happen.'
'Did the officer in charge ever ask you about that?' Lasser could feel the rain increase, hear it pattering off the hood of his jacket.
Burns looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head. 'I remember the copper's name was Ross, he was plain clothes like you two, he said nothing to me, then again he could have asked my father about it, but if he did the old man never mentioned it to me.'
Lasser heard Bannister sigh as they hit another brick wall.
'Right well, thanks for your help, Mr Burns.'
'I'm just sorry that I couldn't be of more help, but the truth is the police were only here for half an hour at the most and then they vanished.'
'''Vanished?'',' Bannister growled in a voice full of disgust.
'I guess they were searching the woods at the time, but they never came back here, he paused, smoke drifting from his nostrils, 'I did go into town with the old man, and we called at the police station to ask if there was any news, but that was a waste of time, the officer in charge would tell us bugger all so we came away.'
'What about Sharon's parents, did you ever meet them?' Lasser asked.
'Sharon's father had left the family when she was born and shacked up with someone else, so it was Mary who brought her up. I went to the funeral, the father turned up and Mary's brother stopped the prick from getting into the church, he ended up with a black eye and bloody nose.'
'It must have been hard for the mother, losing her daughter like that,' Bannister admitted.
Mick Burns suddenly looked pained as a drop of rain dripped from the end of his nose. 'To be honest, I'm surprised you don't know all this, I mean, surely you have records?'
'We're just making initial enquiries at the moment,' Bannister explained.
'Mary Bliss took her own life a couple of years after Sharon was killed, she took a load of pills on the lane. I was the one who found her.'
Lasser could hear the distress in Burns's voice, see it on his face.
'Bloody mess,' Bannister suddenly snapped.
Burns looked at him in surprise and then nodded in agreement. 'They were close, when the weather was nice Mary would come here with Sharon to watch her ride, we used to grab a coffee while Sharon was having her lesson, Mary was a good woman, a good mother.'
'Did she ever have another partner after Sharon's father walked out on them?' Lasser asked.
The woman they had seen earlier reappeared and glanced over to where they stood, she smiled at Lasser before carrying on across the yard.
Dropping the stump of the second cigarette to the ground, Burns shook his head. 'No, she told me she was happy on her own, she was a good-looking woman, not that it should matter, I know she had offers, but was having none of it.'
'You said you were the one who found her?' Lasser asked.
'Aye, it was bloody awful, I just couldn't believe it, to be honest after Sharon was killed, I went to see Mary a few times, and you could see her getting worse, the truth is she couldn't get over what had happened to Sharon. Her family tried to help, but when she killed herself it was no real surprise to me.'
'And what did the police say?'
Burns looked at Lasser in confusion for a moment and then shrugged. 'They turned up and basically took Mary away, and I never heard anymore about it.'
'What, nothing at all?'
'Well, no, she took her own life, it was obvious what had happened so there was nothing to investigate.'
Bannister glanced at his watch, his face twitching with anger. 'Right, well, thanks again for your help, it's much appreciated,' he said before turning on his heels.
Seconds later they were back in the car, Lasser turning the key before clicking the heater up a notch as Bannister unzipped the jacket.
'I know it happened over twenty years ago but whoever this Detective Ross is then he should have had his arsed kicked, I mean, as far as I can see he did sod-all to find Sharon's killer.'
'Perhaps Odette and Roger will be able to get details of what he actually did.'
Spinning the car around, Lasser headed back along the lane as Bannister suddenly lunged over the seat and grabbed the pack of cigarette, seconds later he had lit two and handed one over.
'Well, that didn't last long,' Lasser said as he took a pull in utter relief.
'It was a stupid idea to give up completely, but we can cut down, and then hopefully pack them in, agreed?'
'Agreed,' Lasser replied as he took another pull before turning the wipers onto full, savouring the cigarette as they drove along the rutted lane.
49
Roger frowned as he looked at the screen, eyes narrowed as he double-checked the information in front of him.
'I've missed something,' he said in a whisper.
At his side, Odette turned to look at him, Spenner had left the room to get the brews in.
'What do you mean?'
Easing back, he rubbed at his eyes. 'Ethel Brab was killed on the twenty-third of the month and so was Julie Rawlins.'
Odette glanced at the screen before looking at Roger. 'Listen to me, we've all been working on this and none of us spotted that, so don't be hard on yourself, besides, it could just be a coincidence.'
Roger didn't look convinced by her words, and then he quickly leaned forward again, his fingers flying over the keys, his brow furrowed.
'What are you doing?' she asked, wheeling her chair to his side.
He didn't answer just continued to tap away and then he pressed enter, and the report on the death of Norma Rowbottom appeared on the screen, and Roger quickly rubbed at his eyes again before leaning forward.
'Come on, Rog, talk to me,' Odette said as the tension continued to build.
'Shit,' he suddenly hissed. 'Ethel Brab and Julie Rawlins died on the same date, right?'
'OK, but what are you looking at?'
'Norma Rowbottom was the next to die in nineteen seventy-three…'
'We know that, she was found strangled on top of an old mill in town.'
'Yeah, but look at the date,' he leaned forward and tapped at the screen. 'She died on the twenty-seventh and that's tomorrow,' he looked at Odette his eyes full of tension.
Odette looked at the screen and swallowed the sense of unease that bloomed inside. 'But there was a three-year gap between the murder of Brab at Dove Cottage and Norma Rowbottom.'
Third Eye - DS Lasser Series 25 (2021) Page 17