by K Leitch
‘Oh no she say she has met a man, he is going to take her back to Ireland…she was…um jumpy …um excited. She is saying they will be proper family. But I think something goes wrong with this man; because she is phoning me needing money for ticket home.’
‘Did she ever tell you where she was living in Kenley Maya? Where did you meet her to give her the money?’ asked Carla, Maya thought for a while trying to remember.
‘She say she has a house…I ask her how she gets this and she laughs and says people are stupid, they leave their house for too long and she gets inside. She is boasting, says it has big kitchen, big garden big bedroom…but I don’t know where…I think maybe near the common, because when I meet her she is walking on the…um you know um footpath, but I not sure…sorry.’
Carla turned to Ted. ‘Ok Ted I think we need to focus our search on the houses on the other side of the common, ask around see if anyone has noticed that their neighbours have been away for some time, or maybe someone may have noticed a stranger in their neighbours house, you know the sort of thing.’
She turned back to Maya. ‘Maya, can you think of any reason Mary would take a child and why she picked on Owen Marshall? Did she mention that she knew the Marshalls or had she had any dealings with Owen in particular?’
Maya was shaking her head. ‘I do not know why she do this thing, I know she is…um mixed up. She had very bad time in Ireland, her family… they are not good people…she tells me some things, oh my god, I can’t believe that they do that…to sister you know…to daughter, it is wicked. But why she takes child…I think may be to help her to forget her own baby that was lost…maybe that is why.’ Maya’s eyes filled with tears and she grabbed Carla’s hands as she spoke. ‘She is not bad person detective…she has been hurt…so so hurt. They take her baby from her, this, I think is why she takes boy.’
Carla looked bewildered. ‘Who took her baby Maya, when did this happen?’
‘Oh long time ago…Mary says she was 14, only baby herself. It was her own family that took baby…said she had disgraced family… so they find good Catholic family for it. Mary never sees baby again. This I think is her sorrow…she never gets over…it grows big inside her like…tumour, she talks of him all the time…her angel.’
‘Well that certainly gives her a motive, poor girl but it still doesn’t answer the question of why Owen?’ said Carla.
Ted shrugged. ‘Maybe the boy reminded her of her child, you know right age, right colouring could be as simple as that. We’ll never know unless we find this girl.’
He turned to Maya. ‘Thank you for your help Miss Dronski; I don’t suppose I need to say it, but please let us know if Mary gets in touch with you again won’t you? I’ll leave you my card,’ he fished around in his pocket and handed her a card.
‘I will detective,’ she put a hand on his arm, ‘please find Mary…and please be gentle with her; I know she did bad thing, but she is not bad person.’ Ted looked a bit embarrassed but he nodded and left the room. Carla said her goodbyes to Helen; noticing once again how much more of her there was these days, she could hardly get her arms around her when she hugged her goodbye. She thanked Maya and followed Ted out of the house.
‘Ok Ted let’s get that door to door organised, and can you get hold of the dog team for me, see if they’ve struck gold with Dobson’s spaniel? We must find this girl soon…any luck on finding Dobson’s shotgun yet?’
‘No nothing so far, we’re widening the search. If we find that, it may be a good indicator of which direction our killer went out of the woods, assuming he threw it as he ran. Of course he may have kept hold of the thing…in which case we’re back to square one.’
‘Oh well at least we’re building up a picture of events Ted, and something’s got to give soon… surely.’
‘Ha! Famous last words…we could be going round in circles for all we know. What if Terry Dobson’s death has got nothing to do with Mary O’Bruin? What do we know about this stranger, who may or may not be Mary’s brother? And where the hell has he disappeared to; is he still in the village, or has he done what he came here to do and has now buggered off back to Ireland?’
Carla held up her hand. ‘Ok Ted stop! You’ve made your point; we are once again running round like fucking headless chickens…what do you suggest we do?’
‘Well I think we need to put a couple of the lads onto finding this fella…this Craig O’Bruin, because I’ve got a feeling that if we find him we’ll find Mary, and maybe even Terry’s murderer as well.’
‘Yes you’re right, that makes sense. I’ll head back to the station and try and sort that out. I’ll get Mandy back onto the CCTV’s again…she’s going to love me. But it won’t hurt to check all the relevant ones from the last few days, see if he shows up on any of them. Right let’s get cracking Ted, I’ll see you later,’ and with a wave she got back in her car and sped back to the station.
Back at the station Carla delegated various jobs to different people and then sat down with Mandy in front of the screens. They had been hard at it for about twenty minutes when Carla’s mobile rang, it was Ted.
‘Hi Ted, what’s up?’ she asked.
‘I think we may have got our breakthrough,’ said Ted sounding very excited, ‘the dog people have just got back to me. They moved their search to the other side of the common, Brasket Lane and Milbank, and at one of the houses the dog went ballistic. I’m on my way there now.’
‘Right see you there Ted…what number…ok see you in a min.’
Carla flew out of the office and into her car. Milbank was just round the corner from where she lived; surely that little boy hadn’t been just a few yards from her all that time, surely she would have noticed something?
The dog team and a group of uniformed officers were all standing outside number 5 Milbank when Carla got there. Several curious neighbours had come outside and were chatting to each other speculating as to what was going on. She could see Terry Dobson’s Spaniel straining at the leash, jumping around and making an awful racket.
Carla parked up and went over to join Ted who was talking to one of the neighbours, a rather tall thin lady probably in her seventies who was wearing a green waxed jacket and headscarf, and looked very upset at having the police in her neighbourhood.
Milbank was a rather select new development of about 15 detached houses, set in a cul-de sac arrangement. All the houses were different and surrounded by a lot of trees and green spaces. It was definitely a desirable place to live and Carla had frequently daydreamed about one day maybe owning one of these lovely houses. Ted raised a hand in greeting as he saw Carla coming over.
‘Ma’am this is Mrs Drinkwater, she lives at number 8 across the road. She says that the owners of number 5 have been away for some time, visiting relatives in Canada, but that they left a house keeper to look after the place. She’s not been seen around lately though.’
Carla smiled at Mrs Drinkwater, ‘You say they left a housekeeper, did they tell you this before they left?’
Mrs Drinkwater looked down her long nose. ‘My dear it was not my place to enquire about any arrangements they had made. But I had seen the girl working for them before they left…so I assumed.’
‘I see,’ said Carla, ‘and have you noticed anyone else going into the house…a child maybe or a man?’
Tweedy raised her eyebrows, ‘Oh good grief who knows? I have better things to do with my time than watch my neighbours. So no, I haven’t noticed anything untoward I can assure you young woman.’
‘It’s Detective Inspector actually,’ said Carla riled by the woman’s patronising attitude. ‘Do you know if your neighbour’s left a key to the house with anybody?’
‘Well with the housekeeper obviously,’ said the infuriating old bag, ‘they certainly didn’t with me!’
‘Thank you for your time,’ Carla said through gritted teeth, she walked away before she said something she might regret. ‘Right Ted is there a way in that you can see, I’ve already organised the w
arrant, so let’s try and get inside without doing too much damage, I’ve got a feeling these poor people are going to get a big enough shock as it is when they come back from their travels.’
‘Oh I think we can get in easily enough; the French doors at the back of the house have been left open, I had a look when we first got here, I’ve not been inside yet though. No sign of life, although the kitchen looks to be in a bit of a mess. But if she was here I don’t think she’s here now, we’ve had the whole house surrounded and there’s not been a sign of anyone in there.’
They made their way round to the back of the house; large French doors led from the garden to the living room, they had obviously been open for some time as the carpet and the curtains were soaked through by the recent rain. Apart from the door that was slightly open all of the curtains were drawn shut. So they entered the house very cautiously, there was no saying who or what was waiting inside.
They were hit immediately by an all too familiar smell, Carla put a hand over her nose and mouth as the smell got stronger the deeper into the house they went.
The kitchen was a complete mess; chairs lying sideways on the floor, in amongst broken china and bloody footprints. Carla noticed that one of the walls was covered in dried blood, spots and smudges of it, but all in one area she pointed it out to Ted who went and examined it a bit closer.
‘Can’t be sure until forensics get here, but my guess is someone’s been slamming their fist into the wall, over and over by the looks of it…weird.’
Carla nodded her agreement and they carried on through the once lovely house. The living room and dining room seemed to have been left untouched; everything was spotless apart from a thin layer of dust which didn’t seem to have been disturbed Ted observed. In contrast, the hall was a testament of the violent struggle that had obviously started in the kitchen. The light cream carpet that ran along the hall and up the stairs was badly stained with blood and there was blood spattered on the walls. The bloody footprints from the kitchen led them along the hall way and up to the first floor. They opened every door and cupboard as they went just to make sure no one was hiding, ready to make a run for it. As they reached the landing the sickly smell of decaying flesh became over powering, and Carla tried not to breathe in through her nose. At the end of the landing was the box room and it was here that they found a body, which was almost certainly that of Mary O’Bruin, lying in a pool of her own blood. She had a large kitchen knife in her chest; and her hand was out stretched towards a small hatch like door that was in the wall next to the chimney breast. Behind the door was a tiny space that went into the eaves of the house, obviously meant for storage, it looked like it had been where Owen Marshall had been kept prisoner for the week that he had been missing. There was a mattress and some old food that was turning mouldy, and a pair of ‘Disney Cars’ slippers. The air was foul inside the small cupboard like space; it smelt strongly of stale urine and bodily waste. And one minute of looking round through the hatch was more than enough for Carla who was nearly gagging. But she noticed that there were children’s books and toys in there, and even a PSP with a couple of games.
Carla heard forensics arriving and sure enough Dorothy came into the room with her team, a smile on her face as usual, she greeted them both and got straight down to examining the dead girl on the floor.
‘Been dead about a four or five days or so I would say, can’t be sure though until I get her back and open her up. Knife in the chest is a bit of a giveaway as to cause of death; and she’s obviously bled out, but looking at these drag marks I would say that she was stabbed outside this room and somehow dragged her way into here, possibly to unlock the hatch. She must have known she was dying and was determined to make sure the child could get out.’ She paused and stood there shaking her head. ‘Tragic…tragic, for the child as well; if he was locked in this tiny space he must have heard her being killed…he must have been terrified of what he would find when he opened his little door. From the looks of her she had taken a terrible beating before she was stabbed; down in the kitchen is my guess, and then for some reason she ends up in here. From the blood on the walls on the landing I would guess that she was stabbed out there, there was obviously a struggle, I can see a few bloody handprints, and we’ll be able to get some good prints from them. Some of them are much bigger than her hands so I’m guessing again that there is a man involved somehow. She must have been in agony when she dragged herself in here to let him out… tragic.’
Carla left Dorothy and her team to their grisly work and went back downstairs. Amongst the mess in the kitchen, was all the evidence of someone embarking on a journey. A large holdall was packed and waiting by the door, on the sideboard were tickets for the ferry from Liverpool to Ireland in the name of Juliet Avery travelling with her son Harry and there were also corresponding passports. One of which showed a photo of Owen Marshall, Mary had planned this down to the last detail. She had obviously overlooked a couple of important things though, like the fact that some men can’t be relied on and other men will do you great harm. At the bottom of the holdall was something that made Carla sigh for the poor damaged creature lying dead upstairs…it was an old tobacco tin and inside was a razor covered in dried blood.
CHAPTER 39
Susan Marshall left the bank desperately trying to hold back the tears of frustration that were threatening to fall. She wanted to scream and shout at somebody…anybody.
The bank manager had been very polite, he had explained gently and patiently why it was impossible at this time for the bank to be able to increase their overdraft by £50,000.
‘With the financial climate as it is at the moment Mrs Marshall, it would not be in the bank’s best interest to offer you a loan at this time. Maybe if you were to try again…say next year, who knows it might be a different ball game altogether, but as for now…,’ he trailed off looking sympathetic.
Susan wanted to smash his self important, patronising face in; her nails were digging into her hand under the table as she forced herself to keep calm, determined not to show any weakness in front of this man.
‘Oh that is a shame,’ she said as calmly as she could, ‘my husband and I were so hoping to make some alterations to the house this year. But as you say maybe we’ll wait until next summer; thank you for taking the time to see me Mr Granger, I do hope you family are well,’ she gathered up her coat and left the office with as much dignity as she could muster.
Once in her car though, she allowed her desperation to overcome her, shaking and sobbing, her head in her hands…what was she going to do, the bank had been her last resort…what the fuck was she going to do? Gordon had panicked as she had known he would, he had even had the gall to blame her for this whole mess, like he hadn’t played his part, like he hadn’t reaped the benefits of her schemes all these years…the snivelling little bastard she had soon put stop to his nonsense.
Well he was going to have to come up with something and soon! She had managed to put off Declan a couple of times now, but it was obvious that he was getting more and more desperate to move on and consequently he was becoming more and more threatening. The last time they had met he had slapped her a couple of times, and then held her round her throat until she was gasping for breath. That incident was what had prompted her to try the bank, even though she knew there was almost no hope there. Now she had run out of ideas, her car was being sold and she had sold a couple of pieces of jewellery…so far she had raised nearly £13,000…a long way short of the £50,000 that Declan was demanding.
Once she had calmed down she drove home. Owen was making a good recovery and had been home for a few days now. He still wasn’t talking though, so he was having a few sessions a week with a child physiologist. She seemed to think he was making good progress, but Susan yearned to have her bright happy little boy back. The nightmarish thoughts about what he might have been through or witnessed were with her constantly; and she hated to leave him even for a moment, so the first thing she did when she got insid
e was to check on him. He was in the living room with Gordon who had taken the morning off while she went to the bank. Gordon looked up questioningly when she walked in; she just shook her head and went over to Owen to give him a hug hello. As always these days he clung onto her as if his life depended on it.
‘Owen sweetheart, why don’t you set up your ‘skylanders’, you can do it in here on the big telly if you want,’ she said loving the way his little face lit up.
She helped him set it all up, he grabbed hold of her nervously as she went to leave him, trying to pull her down on the rug next to him, Susan gently loosened his grip on her and kissed his head.
‘Maybe later darling…mummy and daddy have got some things to sort out, so you be a good boy for a while and then I’ll play with you …promise.’
He looked disappointed but settled down to play his favourite computer game. Gordon looked apprehensive when he followed her into the kitchen, ‘So what happened, I presume they turned you down…I could have told you they would…’
‘I don’t fucking want to know what you could have told me you little prick,’ Susan rasped at him. ‘I just want to know what you are going to do about it…we have to find that money somehow, or we lose everything…I have tried everything I can think of, sold everything I can…I can’t do anymore. You are going to have to ask your mum and dad.’
For once Gordon stood firm. ‘No! I’ve told you I bloody well won’t. What am I meant to tell them it’s for…it’s bad enough that I stole from them all those years ago without trying to fleece them for more money now…I’m sorry that’s my final word so…’
She turned on him then, flushed with anger, ‘You stupid idiot, what do you think is going to happen if they find out about what we did…don’t you think they won’t be affected as well? What if we lose the kids…what then… don’t you think they would rather fork out £50,000 than lose their grandchildren? You don’t seem to be able to get it through your thick head that we will all be ruined if we don’t pay him off,’ she sat down at the kitchen table looking across at him, he sat down as well.