House of Lies (Detective Karen Hart)

by D. S. Butler

  ‘What about Ella?’

  ‘What about her? She shouldn’t be under my supervision now. Her parents are gadabouts. They left the girl here knowing that the course finished this afternoon at three p.m.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sick of entitled parents expecting me to take care of their children.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose I could give her a lift to the train station or order her a taxi.’

  Karen found it odd that Ella’s parents hadn’t rushed home when they were informed two students had gone missing. Now that Natasha’s body had been found, she would have expected them to collect their daughter as soon as humanly possible.

  ‘Before you go, Mr Doyle, were you aware someone was filming through a peephole in the women’s bathroom?’

  ‘Filming?’ Doyle looked aghast. ‘No, I was not. Who?’

  ‘We’re looking into it.’ Karen studied him closely. He seemed genuinely shocked.

  ‘That’s why you took Chidlow off just now, isn’t it? You think it was him?’

  Karen braced herself, expecting a typical Doyle rant over her disrespecting a grand man like Edward Chidlow, who would never stoop to such a thing, but Doyle was silent.

  ‘You didn’t suspect anything?’ Karen asked.

  Doyle shook his head. ‘No, I thought better of him. I have to admit this week has been an eye-opening experience.’ He heaved his holdall on to his shoulder. ‘If that’s all, Detective, I’ll be off.’

  ‘I’ll need your contact details.’

  He nodded. ‘You have them. DI Morgan already took them down.’

  After Doyle left, Karen went to Ella’s room.

  When the young woman opened the door, her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed. She looked full of suppressed energy.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Karen asked, wondering if she’d somehow found out about the recordings already.

  Ella nodded, lifting her hand to run her fingers through her frizzy hair. Her silver charm bracelet slipped lower on her arm. ‘Yes – I’ve just been watching all the action.’

  ‘I need you to pack up your things, Ella. I have to take you home now, or I could take you to one of your relatives or a friend’s house.’

  ‘Can’t I stay here a bit longer?’ she asked. ‘My parents should be back soon, and Mr Doyle will be here. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe.’

  ‘Graham Doyle’s not going to be here tonight. He’s leaving now.’

  ‘He is?’ Ella frowned. ‘He told me he was staying until my parents got back.’

  ‘I think he’s had a change of heart due to the circumstances.’

  Ella’s shoulders slumped. ‘Right. I suppose I should pack then.’

  ‘Is there anyone you can stay with, just until your parents get back?’

  ‘I’ll be fine at home on my own.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to be on your own right now.’

  Ella looked quizzically at Karen. ‘I suppose I could go to my aunt’s. She lives in Lincoln.’

  ‘Perfect,’ said Karen. ‘I’ll drop you there now. Do you want me to help you pack?’

  Ella turned away. ‘No, that’s fine. I can do it.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Karen said. ‘And you’ll get packed faster.’

  Ella pulled out a suitcase from under the bed and began to empty the contents of the drawers into it. ‘You could get my books together, if you don’t mind?’ Ella handed Karen a cloth book bag.

  Karen slid the books, one by one, into the bag, as Ella finished packing her clothes. Then she gathered up the pens and pencils and slid them into the red pencil case on the desk.

  Finally, Ella kneeled beside her and rescued her iPhone from its hiding place at the bottom of the heavy drapes. Karen had found it there when she’d searched Ella’s room. She’d wondered then why Ella would have a phone hidden away like that.

  ‘Why were you keeping your phone there?’ Karen asked.

  Ella shrugged. ‘I didn’t want it to be stolen. It’s a good hiding place. I didn’t unpick the stitching. It was already like that.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Karen said, as Ella slid the phone into her pocket. ‘Now, Ella, before we leave, I have to tell you something that’s going to be quite difficult to hear.’ Karen sat down on the bed.

  Ella remained standing awkwardly by the desk. ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ve discovered that someone in this house has been recording women in the bathroom.’

  Ella’s eyes widened. ‘Did they record me?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. There are a number of recordings, and we haven’t gone through them all.’

  ‘I don’t want you to! I don’t want you to look at any videos of me.’

  ‘We need to look at the recordings because they’re evidence. No one’s going to be looking at you specifically, Ella. We just need to identify all the women that were recorded so we can press the appropriate charges. A female officer will be reviewing the footage.’

  ‘Do you know who made the recordings?’

  ‘We’re questioning someone at the moment.’

  Ella’s eyes widened further. ‘Lord Chidlow? You took him in for questioning. You think he’s been recording us?’ Her face crumpled. ‘That’s disgusting.’

  ‘We’re investigating, Ella. I can’t say more than that, but it’s a horrible situation,’ Karen said. ‘I’m sorry this happened. We’ll do our best to make sure the person responsible doesn’t get away with it.’

  Ella said nothing, just gripped the back of the chair.

  ‘Come on. I’ll take you to your aunt’s. You might feel better if you talk to her about it.’

  Ella looked at her doubtfully but leaned down and zipped up her suitcase. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’m ready to go.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Karen drove Ella into Lincoln. The young woman sat in the passenger seat, her fingers running over the smooth surface of the iPhone.

  ‘I thought your parents didn’t approve of expensive gadgets? You said you didn’t have one.’ Karen pointed at the phone.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Ella said.

  Karen thought that was going to be her final answer, but she tucked her tight curls behind her ear and gave Karen a sideways glance. ‘My parents didn’t buy it. One of my friends gave it to me.’

  ‘Who?’

  Ella didn’t reply.

  ‘That’s an expensive gift from a friend,’ Karen commented.

  Ella sighed. ‘Most of them are rich. It’s not a big deal to them. Besides, it’s just an old model.’ She shoved it in her pocket. ‘They didn’t need it anymore. They got a new one.’

  They drove in silence for the next few minutes, passing the sparse hedgerows dotted with red berries and occasional stubborn brown leaves that clung on despite the wind and the rain.

  Karen took the main route into the city and was relieved to find the traffic flowing smoothly. Ella’s aunt lived on Linton Street. It was a small terraced house just off Ripon Street with no front driveway, and parking was in short supply.

  Karen managed to find a spot on the street, a few doors down. She got Ella’s suitcase and bag out of the boot.

  ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to come with me,’ Ella said, grabbing the case.

  ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to,’ Karen said. ‘I think your aunt might have some questions.’

  Ella shrugged. ‘All right, if you like.’

  Karen carried the bag as Ella wheeled her case to number eight. The door was opened by a woman who had a clear resemblance to Ella. She had the same frizzy, springy hair. It suited her. It had been cut into a style that surrounded her face like a soft, puffy cloud and added extra height to her petite frame.

  A scarf with an abstract print was tied around her neck, and she wore a long white tunic and navy-blue culottes. On her feet were a pair of wooden clogs decorated with painted flowers.

  She beamed at Ella and then looked past the girl to Karen, a bemused expression on her face. ‘What a lovely surprise,’ she said.
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  ‘I thought you had telephoned your aunt?’ Karen had asked Ella to call while she was putting the suitcase in the boot.

  ‘I tried,’ Ella shrugged, ‘but there was no answer.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Ella’s aunt said. ‘I’ve been painting upstairs while listening to music. You’re lucky you caught me. I just took a break for a cup of coffee. Come in.’ She stood back and then eyed the large bag Ella was holding. ‘Oh, you’re planning to stay for a while?’

  ‘No,’ Ella said. ‘Just until Mum and Dad get back.’

  Ella started to walk past her aunt but the woman reached out and pulled her close, kissing her on the cheek before letting her go. Then she turned to Karen.

  Karen held out her hand. ‘I’m DS Hart,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how much Ella has told you . . .’

  ‘Not much. I haven’t spoken to her since Christmas.’

  ‘Right, then it’s probably best if I fill you in. Were you aware Ella was attending an intensive study course this week?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t,’ she said, ushering Karen in and shutting the door behind them.

  She led Karen down a narrow hallway towards the kitchen, where Ella was already sitting at the table. It was a small room but there was good light from a large window and a double-glazed garden door at one end. The main part of the kitchen was long and thin, but at one end it opened up a little, leaving enough room for a table and four chairs.

  ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ she asked. ‘I’m Millie by the way. Millie Cartwright.’

  ‘A coffee would be lovely,’ Karen said. ‘Thanks. White, no sugar.’

  As Millie set about making the coffee, Karen explained the circumstances that had led to her bringing Ella here. She told her that two young women had gone missing, and though one had returned, they’d discovered Natasha’s body a few hours ago. Then she finally told a horrified Millie about the recordings.

  ‘I don’t think you should tell anybody about that,’ Ella said, interrupting. ‘Maybe I don’t want people to know about the recordings.’

  ‘I’m not just people,’ Millie said. ‘I’m your aunt.’ She put the coffee on the table and then sat heavily on one of the chairs. ‘What an awful thing to happen. That poor young girl.’

  Karen sat too. ‘Yes, so you can understand why I wasn’t comfortable leaving Ella there this afternoon. As I understand it, her parents have been away on a safari trip and couldn’t get back.’

  Millie made a scoffing sound. ‘It sounds like them.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Ella said. ‘It’s not their fault. They were out of the country.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure they could have arranged flights to come home early considering the circumstances.’

  Karen diplomatically changed the subject. ‘It’s been quite a tough time for Ella, so I thought leaving her with you until her parents get back was the best idea.’

  ‘That’s fine with me,’ Millie said. ‘I was painting, but I could take the rest of the afternoon off. We could do something together,’ she suggested to Ella. ‘We could watch a film, if you like. I think I’ve got some popcorn somewhere.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Ella said. ‘You don’t have to interrupt your day for me. Carry on with your painting. I’ve got plenty of reading to do anyway. With everything that’s happened I’m really behind with my studies.’

  ‘You work too hard. You should take some time to relax,’ Millie said.

  ‘I’ve got too much to do. It’s not easy. You wouldn’t know because you didn’t do A levels.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Millie turned to Karen. ‘I went to art college. I was more of a free spirit. I didn’t really get on with maths and English and all that sort of stuff. Would you like another?’ She pointed at Karen’s empty mug.

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks. I’ll leave you guys to it. Ella, can I take your mobile number in case I need to get in touch?’

  As Ella put her mobile number into Karen’s phone, Millie asked, ‘Will you keep us posted on those recordings? Someone will be prosecuted, I take it?’

  ‘We hope so, yes.’

  ‘Will Ella need to testify?’

  ‘It’s unlikely,’ Karen said, ‘but we will keep in touch with Ella and keep her updated on the investigation.’

  Millie escorted Karen to the front door. ‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ she said in a whisper. ‘I mean, Ella seems to be taking it very well, but I worry about her. She tends to keep everything bottled up. She doesn’t talk to people or explain how she’s feeling.’

  ‘No.’

  Millie’s words made Karen think about a conversation she’d had with Ella. She looked back and saw the young woman standing by the kitchen door, silently observing.

  Karen suppressed a shiver. Ella was good at watching people.

  Karen’s next stop was the mortuary.

  Raj looked up when she entered the small vestibule and grinned.

  Karen couldn’t help smiling back. He was always so cheerful, despite his job. Raj’s moustache curled up at the edges, emphasising his wide mouth.

  He interlinked his fingers, resting his hands on his plump stomach. He wore navy-blue trousers, a bright white shirt and a purple bow tie.

  ‘I’ve been expecting you,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘Am I that predictable?’ Karen asked.

  ‘It’s understandable. You want answers,’ he said.

  ‘I do. But the question is, do you have any to give me?’ She walked up to his desk and looked down at the piles of paperwork.

  The papers were neatly stacked but there were a lot of them. He was busy and extremely unlikely to have started the post-mortem already.

  ‘I know I’m a pain,’ Karen said, ‘and you’re not going to have a lot for me now, but I hoped you might have some preliminary findings to share.’

  Raj tiptoed around the desk, pulled his chair out and sat down. ‘I do have a few things to tell you,’ he said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk.

  Karen sank into it. ‘Right. You’re going to tell me it wasn’t an accident.’

  ‘Most definitely not an accident. My preliminary judgement is that she’d been hit on the back of the head, a blow that stunned her. There was a lot of bruising, indicating she didn’t die immediately. When I do the post-mortem, I’ll know more, but I suspect she drowned. If I find water in her lungs, we’ll have our answer.’

  ‘So the blow to the head didn’t kill her?’

  ‘I can’t say. Maybe it did, just not immediately.’

  ‘Was the skin broken?’ Karen asked, thinking about trace evidence.

  ‘No, a great deal of bruising but no bleeding.’

  ‘Isn’t that unusual for a head wound?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve seen similar injuries before.’

  Karen nodded. ‘So the working theory is that she was struck on the back of the head and then somebody dumped her body in the middle of the lake, weighing her down with sandbags to make sure she had no chance of survival, as well as making the discovery of her body more difficult.’

  Raj nodded.

  ‘Were there any signs of a struggle?’

  ‘Two broken fingernails. I’ve taken swabs from under all her nails, so if we get lucky and she scratched her attacker, we should get DNA.’

  Karen blew out a breath, puffing out her cheeks. ‘Let’s hope we get lucky then.’

  ‘Yes,’ Raj said. ‘I should be able to get to the post-mortem soon, but we’ve already sent off the swab samples.’

  ‘Can you tell me when she died? Had she been in the lake a while?’

  Raj gave a regretful smile. ‘Yes, I think she died either late Thursday evening or the early hours of Friday morning.’

  ‘So the whole time we were looking for her she was already dead?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  Karen closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, digesting the information before saying, ‘I really appreciate you getting to this as soon as possible, Raj.’

  ‘Of cour
se,’ he said. ‘Post-mortems are never a pleasant job, but when they’re so young . . .’ He shook his head and swung around in his chair. ‘Do you have any suspects in mind?’

  ‘If I’m honest, I’ve got too many suspects.’

  ‘Lots of motives?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes; I just have to narrow it down to the right one.’

  ‘And that’s why you get paid the big bucks,’ Raj joked.

  ‘I wish,’ Karen said, standing up. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I really appreciate you giving me the information early.’

  ‘Not a problem, as long as you don’t build your whole case around it and then come back to chastise me if I’ve misled you.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Karen called, already heading for the door. ‘I promise.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Karen grabbed a sandwich and a spiced latte from a café in the city centre. She ate the sandwich in the car before heading back to Nettleham.

  At least Ella was safe now, and there were no more students at Chidlow House. Morgan and Rick would still be interviewing Lord Chidlow. She hoped they were getting somewhere.

  At the station, she carried what was left of her latte into the main office, sat down at her desk and turned on the computer. She glanced at her watch as the machine started up. She wondered if Cressida was back from her appointment with the psychologist. Only one way to find out, she thought, reaching for the phone on her desk and dialling the Blakes.

  ‘Hello.’ Ryan Blake’s tone was abrupt.

  ‘Mr Blake,’ Karen said. ‘This is DS Hart. I was phoning to see how Cressida is doing after her appointment with the psychologist.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Ryan said, sounding distracted. ‘She got on as well as can be expected. The psychologist said it’s going to be a long process. We’ve made a follow-up appointment for next week.’

  ‘I see. Did she remember anything more about Thursday night? Anything that could be relevant to the investigation?’

  ‘No,’ Ryan said shortly. ‘And if that’s all, Detective Hart, I’ve got things to be getting on with.’

  ‘Actually, I was wondering if I could have a word with Cressida.’