by M A Comley
“Of course I will. Thank you, Inspector. Please, find the person who did this to Gemma. I know many cases like this go unsolved for some reason or another, but promise me you’ll do your best to find the culprit and bring them to justice for robbing my daughter of her beautiful mother.”
“You have my word on that. My team will strive to track the offender down and punish them swiftly.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
He closed the front door quietly once they left. “Crap, I’m sorry about the kid, doubly sorry after what he told us about Gemma’s father.”
“It’s forgotten about, Jack. However, Gemma’s father hitting Samantha like that needs urgent investigation. It doesn’t sit comfortably with me. While I drive to Heather’s house, you ring the station and get one of the guys to run a background check on Raymond Lord. Then, once we’ve seen Gemma’s mother, we’ll pay her father a visit. Hopefully, Gemma’s mum will be able to fill us in more accurately as to the impact he’s had on Gemma’s life over the years.”
Jack placed the call and instructed Joanna to dig up what she could on the raging father and to get back to them ASAP. He hung up, and out of the corner of her eye, Sally saw her partner shaking his head.
“Are you thinking about the father?” Sally asked.
“Yeah. It bothers me that anyone could treat their family like that.”
“Not everyone is a compassionate father like you, Jack. The world is crammed full of nasty men who frequently sow their seed without contemplating the responsibilities they’d be lumbered with. Let’s hold fire on the recriminations for now until we get the full story from Gemma’s mother, eh?”
“Okay. I suppose Gemma was at least fortunate to have one decent parent in her life.”
Sally nodded. “Some people don’t even have that honour. It’s at times like these, I for one, count myself lucky for having wonderful, caring parents.”
“Do you think the father could have done this? Is that where all this is leading?”
“At this point, I don’t think we can rule him out. Something is bugging me big time about this case. However, I can’t quite figure out what is annoying me. I suppose the most important question I have is, why did Gemma feel the need to get out of her car on a dark country road?”
“Good point. If I was female and I got shunted from behind and was only a few miles from home, I know what I’d do—put the pedal to the metal and get the fuck out of there, sharpish.”
“That’s exactly what I’d do, too, matey. So why didn’t Gemma?”
“Is that why you asked all those questions about her character? I wondered where you were leading with that.”
“Partially. I like to look at things from the victim’s point of view occasionally, when things don’t sit right.”
“I had noticed. Not so good when we’re dealing with a prostitute murder, but I get your drift, boss. Whatever floats your boat.”
His wisecrack earned him a thump in the thigh.
“Hey, at least I think about a case,” she retorted playfully.
CHAPTER THREE
The mid-terraced house owned by Gemma’s mother had no front garden and was situated in a rough part of town.
“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Jack reminded Sally as they approached the front door.
Sally made a point of showing him she’d pressed the button to lock the vehicle before her partner knocked on the front door of the property.
A woman in her fifties answered the door with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, grasping her towelling robe at her cleavage.
“Hello. Mrs. Lord?”
“I am. And you are?”
Sally produced her ID and introduced herself and her partner. “Is it possible to come in for a chat?”
The woman’s brow creased. “About what?”
“Please, take my word that you’ll want to hear what I have to say in private,” Sally suggested when a woman carrying shopping bags walked past, visibly straining her ear to hear what they were talking about.
“You better come in.” Heather Lord walked backwards a few steps to let them gain entry to the property, then she turned and walked through the first door on her left. “Okay, I’m listening. What’s this about? I haven’t stolen anything or mouthed off to anyone, not as far as I can remember.”
“Why don’t we all take a seat?” Sally removed a few catalogues from the sofa and placed them on the floor.
“Sorry about that. I’m sorting out my granddaughter’s Christmas presents. I buy them through the catalogue to eke out the payments. Of course, I don’t tell my daughter that—she’d hit the roof if she thought I was going into debt just to buy them presents.”
Sally swallowed then cleared her throat with a gentle cough. “Your daughter is the reason we’re here, actually, Mrs. Lord.”
“Why? What’s she done wrong? I can’t believe Gemma would do anything illegal—not my Gemma.” Tears glistened in Heather’s eyes, and her hand clutched her robe tighter, making her knuckles turn white.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that your daughter’s body was found first thing this morning.”
Heather’s head protruded, and her eyes widened in disbelief. “What?” she whispered.
“Jack, please get Mrs. Lord a glass of water from the kitchen.” Jack rushed out of the room and returned with a glass, which he offered to Mrs. Lord. While the woman sipped at the clear liquid, Sally thought how best to tell the woman about the circumstances surrounding her daughter’s death. “It happened on a country lane close to her home. We’re still trying to figure out how the incident occurred. I’m so sorry. We’ve just come from breaking the news to her husband.”
Tears flowed down Mrs. Lord’s cheeks like a rampant river. “Why? Was this an accident?”
“At this moment in time, we’re working on the theory that this was an intentional act.”
“Stop blinding me with police talk, Inspector. Are you saying that my daughter was targeted?”
“Yes, it would appear to be the case. If you’re up to answering some questions, I’d appreciate it. If not, then we could come back another time.”
“What sort of questions? Surely, you should be out there, hunting down the killer, if you believe this to be a deliberate act.”
“I agree with you. Nevertheless, it’s important for us to find out a little about the victim first and foremost.”
Heather wiped her tears on the back of her hand. Fresh ones quickly replaced them. “What type of things?”
“Mainly, whether you can think of anyone who would deliberately set out to hurt your daughter?”
Heather placed her head in her hands and sobbed openly. Sally and Jack exchanged an awkward glance while she wept.
“My baby. My poor baby. I’ll never see her again. It’s not right for a child to leave this world before the parents.” Her head rose, and she looked Sally in the eye and nodded. “He did this!”
Sally shook her head as if trying to stir herself from a daze. “Excuse me. Who did it? At least who do you believe is responsible for killing Gemma?”
Her lip curled. “Take your pick.”
“You’re not making any sense, Heather.”
“None of this makes sense to me. She’s fallen out with so many of her family members lately, it could be any bloody one of them.”
Jack withdrew his notebook.
“Okay, I think you better start giving us some names and the reasons why you think they might be in line for us regarding them as a suspect.”
“Do we have to do this now? Am I not allowed to grieve, even for twenty-four hours?”
“If that’s what you want, then I’m happy to adhere to your wishes, although I do have to tell you that there is every chance of the suspect taking off, the longer we delay things.”
Heather let out a long breath and swept a hand over her colourless cheeks. “You should visit that no-good bloody father of hers first.”
Sally nodded—so far, the evi
dence against him was stacking up, placing him at the summit of their suspect list. “Okay. Who else?”
“Her husband, Mark—I wouldn’t discount him, either.”
“Why do you say that, Heather? Was the marriage in crisis?” Sally asked, flummoxed by the revelation.
“It’s had its moments over the years. Like every marriage in this stratosphere.”
“Okay, that’s plausible and something we’ll eagerly delve into.”
“Then there’s that smarmy shit of a brother of his.”
Sally had the notion that Heather, and not just Gemma, had fallen out with most of Mark’s family over the years and was merely venting her anger to combat the loss of her daughter.
“I’m getting the impression that you don’t care much for any of these men.”
She shrugged and exhaled again. “All I’m doing is helping with your enquiries. I believe these men should be taken into consideration when you’re looking at suspects. You’d be foolish to ignore me.”
“I appreciate that. Do you want to go into detail as to why we should question these men in connection with the… crime?”
Heather lit a cigarette; her brow creased as she thought about Sally’s question. “I would rather wait and grieve a while, but I’m aware that any evidence I give you now will get this vile creature off the streets before they can harm anyone else. I doubt that will happen, though, as their target has already been brought down.”
Sally smiled at the woman, appreciating her willingness to be open. “Just take your time. Let us know if you need to take a break, okay?”
Heather inhaled a few more puffs of her cigarette, then started telling them about all of Gemma’s father’s faults, which were lengthy to the point that Sally wondered if Jack would complain his hand hurt once he’d noted down all the information. Before things got out of hand, Sally interrupted Heather. “Okay, I think we need to narrow this down to actual specifics. I appreciate that he’s your ex-husband and that he’s your ex for a reason, Heather. The thing is, I need to find a possible motive your ex-husband might have for taking his own daughter’s life.”
“I understand that, and that’s what I’m trying to give you, Inspector. Maybe we should call it a day, if you’re not interested in what I have to say about him.”
“I’m sorry if that’s how it came across. Of course I’m interested in what you have to say. My job is to sift the information into piles of possible grievances on your part as an ex-partner and plausible motives for a father killing his own flesh-and-blood daughter.”
“Stop right there. This isn’t about me trying to get retribution for the years of suffering that man has subjected me and my daughter to in the past. This is about his relationship with Gemma, the child he wanted me to get rid of as soon as I found out I was pregnant with her.”
“I see. And yet you went ahead with the pregnancy?”
“I did. No man has the right to tell a woman, with his fists, to get rid of her unborn child.”
“I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Sally said. She looked sideways at Jack, who fidgeted in his seat and refused to raise his head to look at either of the women. He’d recently gone through the same agonising decision whether to ask his sixteen-year-old daughter to terminate the child she was carrying or not. In the end, the family had compromised and was looking forward to the child being welcomed into the fold in the next few weeks. “Therefore, are you saying that he’s never treated or loved Gemma like a daughter?”
“He’s had his moments over the years, but always ends up spoiling any trust that he tries to build up between them.”
Sally found it hard to understand any father not wanting to be part of his own daughter’s life.
“When was the last time Gemma had any contact with her father? Can you tell me that?”
“At the beginning of the year. He showed up at the house drunk one day, begging for forgiveness after neglecting her all these years.”
“And did Gemma welcome him with open arms?”
“Foolishly, yes. She usually did. The thing is, I’ve never set out to deter her from seeing her father. I believe children should be guided in this life to form an opinion of people for themselves. There should be no need to force your feelings upon others. Don’t you agree?”
“I do.” Sally found it strange that Heather would say such a thing after spending about ten minutes at the start of the interview ripping Gemma’s father to shreds. Maybe it was her way of venting her grief and anger or frustration with herself for not forcing her child to think poorly of her own father now that she’d lost her life. “So, this time, they remained on speaking terms. Is that right?”
“No, anything but! She left Samantha with him one day while she went out to the shops. When she returned, Samantha was bawling her eyes out, and she had a huge red mark on her bare leg.”
“From what?” Sally asked, sitting forward in her chair.
“I suspect it was from his hand, but Gemma seemed to accept his answer that Samantha fell and banged her leg on the table as she tumbled.”
“You didn’t, though?”
“No, I didn’t. I know the bruises he used to give Gemma during her childhood. At one point, I threatened to hit him with a frying pan. On that occasion, I realised we no longer had a future together and told him the marriage was over and to get out of my house.”
“How old was Gemma?”
“Just turned three, I believe.”
“And you’ve struggled to bring her up on your own ever since?”
“Yes. He flitted in and out when guilt played havoc with his heartstrings, but apart from that, he pretty much left us alone while I raised her myself.”
“That must have been hard?”
“It was, but I managed it. I couldn’t have done it without having the best neighbours around for support, though.”
“Mark mentioned that you had to work two jobs, which meant that you saw very little of Gemma.”
Heather’s head tilted to the side. “Is this your way of telling me that I’m on your suspect list, too, Inspector?”
Sally shook her head vigorously. “Not in the slightest. I asked Mark what sort of character Gemma was, and he gave me a rundown attached to a statement, ‘considering what her childhood had been like.’ I’m sure he never intended it in a derogatory way, Heather.”
“The trouble was I had to work my arse off because her father contributed very little to her upbringing, a pittance really. I took him to court one year. The judge looked down at him and called him ‘a sorry excuse of a human being’ and raised my maintenance money. Actually, he doubled it. I walked out of the courtroom with my solicitor to find my ex waiting on the other side of the road with his new young wife, stripping off and shouting, ‘Here, you might as well take the shirt off my back, too.’ The solicitor whisked me away and bought me a coffee. My hands were shaking so much, I spilt most of it.”
“What a terrible experience for you.”
“He’s a terrible man, Inspector. The world revolves around him and his infantile universe, I’m afraid, and woe betide anyone who doesn’t conform to his way of thinking.”
“He sounds a real sweetheart. Going back to the incident with Samantha, can you tell me what the outcome was?”
“Gemma said that she believed her father, but deep down, I don’t think she really did. She said it would be better for him to leave and ring when he wanted to visit them again.”
“Do you know what Mark said about it?”
“I don’t think she ever told him.”
“That’s a bit awkward. Any idea why she would keep that kind of information from the father of her child?”
“Speaking as a mother, it’s what we do sometimes.”
“Really?” Out of the corner of her eye, Sally noticed Jack’s head rose to look at the woman. “Would you appreciate that kind of info being held back as a father, Jack?”
“No, I would not.”
Heather shrugged. “To each their own.
The marriage was in trouble. I guess Gemma was more cautious about giving her husband information that could be used against her if they split up.”
“I can understand that logic. Was there a danger of Gemma and Mark going their separate ways?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I was there only as a shoulder to cry on at the end of the day, Inspector. Maybe Gemma confided in her friends more about that than in me.”
“We’ll see what they have to say about that then.”
“You do that. Going back to the incident with my granddaughter, I wouldn’t put it past Ray to have threatened Samantha.”
“What? Threaten a five-year-old? How?”
“You know, ‘Keep this a secret between us, or I’ll tell Mummy you did this.’ He used to do it all the time when we were all together.”
“That’s appalling. I’m not surprised you kicked him out if that was his game.”
“Yeah, he’s a real peach. Take my word on that.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him. Okay, I think you’ve drawn a clear enough picture about Gemma’s dad to be going on with. You mentioned Mark’s brother—care to enlighten me about what kind of relationship he had with Gemma?”
“Are you insinuating that something might have been going on between them, Inspector?”
“No, not in the slightest. Sorry if it came across that way. I was simply asking why they had a falling out. That is what you suggested earlier, wasn’t it?” Sally asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Yes. His name is Colin Whiting. He’s a baker. Just lately, I’ve picked up a bad vibe between them when they were in the same room together. I have no idea what was going on. I tried to get it out of Gemma, but she clammed up. Told me to leave well alone.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound too good. And there’s no way that they’d ever have a relationship?”
“No, she would have been crazy if she had. He seems very needy to me. Not the type you’d want to encourage to be friends at all.”
“Did he visit the family home much? Gemma’s home, I mean?”