The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

Realisation dawned very slowly.

  ‘It’s in our attic, isn’t it?’

  Michelle nodded. ‘I left it there because it’s quite a big job to get to it. We had loft insulation done, and then boarded the attic out. The gun is wrapped in loft insulation and is stuffed under a length of boarding the guys had already done. They came back the next day and simply carried on completing the flooring. It’s buried under the third board in forever.’

  ‘And what if they come for a search warrant for this place?’ Heather spoke in a quite chatty, conversational manner, switched off completely from the gravity of the situation. Claudia just didn’t want to say anything.

  ‘They’ll not find it. And if they did, you didn’t live here three years ago, your fingerprints definitely aren’t on it, and I imagine neither of you would know how to fire one!’

  ‘I do.’ Claudia finally spoke. ‘I can shoot. James and I went away on a bonding weekend with the Sheffield Labour Party and one of the things we did was learn how to shoot.’

  ‘So what now?’ Heather asked.

  ‘I intend saying nothing.’ Michelle sounded tired. ‘I’ve lived with this for three years, and I never thought for a minute he would be found. Why the hell would they turn up on that patch of land and dig in that place? Has Norwood said anything to you about why that happened?’

  ‘Not a thing. But we did get rid of him pretty quickly. Claud pretended to be in a lot of pain, so he went.’

  ‘Is he coming back?’

  ‘He didn’t say he was, but he’s a policeman. Doesn’t mean anything. If you’re worrying about what we’ll say, we won’t give you up, I promise. Sometimes the only way to move on with your life is to get rid of the bloke who was holding you back. You did that, and he asked for it. Was he running away when you shot him?’

  ‘No. I was working out the back, transferring some stuff into the brick shed. I’d had the gun in my pocket for a few days because I was really scared he was going to attack me again. I went into the shed and suddenly he was in it as well. I was on the floor pushing some boxes under the workbench, and he held me down and raped me. He had his hand over my mouth and I couldn’t scream, wasn’t strong enough to fight him off. After it was over, he simply got off me and dropped onto the floor. I took the gun out of my pocket and shot him in the back.’

  ‘And nobody heard?’ Claudia took hold of Michelle’s hand.

  ‘I’d bought a gun with a silencer.’

  ‘I’m lost for words.’ Heather stood and walked to the window. ‘But thank you for telling us. Now we know the truth we’re not going to accidentally drop you in it.’

  ‘Only the three of us know this. I’ve never spoken to Steve about it, obviously, not even to Jade. I’ve just kept it to myself, lived with it, been scared by it, and what’s worse, I had to have an abortion. The bastard made me pregnant. I was with Steve, of course, but we were using protection until we felt the time was right to have a baby. And I couldn’t have kept that baby and have Steve bring it up thinking it was his. The Durex split is too easy to say when you need to cover up an accidental conception. I aborted it and until now have left it at the back of my mind. It’s quite…’ She searched for the right word. ‘Therapeutic to finally have someone who knows about it. I’ve never been able to talk about it before.’

  ‘Is that everything?’ Claudia needed to absorb the whole story.

  ‘It is, apart from it took me two fucking days to dig that bloody hole. He should have stayed hidden forever, I buried him so deep. And now he’s back.’

  ‘Then we’ll never speak of this again.’ Claudia was firm. ‘Not while I’m alive, anyway.’

  They looked at each other and all picked up a mug of tea.

  ‘To us, the three witches,’ Claudia said, and they drank.

  ‘It’s been a lovely sunny day today, hasn’t it?’ Heather said, and they grinned. Normal talk, that’s what they needed.

  Norwood was sitting at his desk when Phil Jackson walked in. He didn’t realise who he was at first, and then he jumped up, holding out his hand.

  ‘Phil! Good to see you. I didn’t recognise you without Bruce.’

  ‘It’s Bruce I’ve come to talk to you about, DS Norwood.’

  ‘Liam. I’m almost off duty.’

  ‘Okay, Liam. Right. First of all let me tell you a little bit about cadaver dogs so you’ll understand what I’m saying. They’re dogs that are trained to locate and follow the scent of decomposing human flesh.’

  Liam nodded.

  ‘Bruce works both on and off the leash, as you saw last week. They’re trained to detect the scent of decomposition as it rises from the soil. It’s kind of the same thing as when a dog knows where he last buried his bone.’

  Liam said nothing, just waited.

  ‘The dogs are trained in two different ways. Trailing dogs follow a scent that has fallen on the ground. An air-scenting dog such as Bruce picks up a decomposing human’s scent that is carried on a breeze, and the dog can pick the scent out of that breeze and follow it to its source. You with me so far?’

  ‘I am. You’re trying to tell me something?’

  ‘I am, something that’s bothered me, and I can’t ignore it. We walked away from you after Bruce located that target, and as we walked down that alleyway back to our dog van, he barked two or three times, and tried to pull me back to you. I was a bit short with him; he’s never done anything like that before. He does his job and we go, quickly.’

  ‘You’re telling me there’s another body there?’

  ‘I think so. I think he caught the scent, and he knew it was a different one. He tried to get me to go back, and I thought he was being a daft bugger, because he can be at times. The more I think about it, the more I realise I should have let him have another go. If there’s nothing there, he was just being a daft bugger, but if there is something, it’s me that was the daft bugger. What do you think?’

  ‘I think I want to kiss you, but I won’t.’

  ‘Thank the Lord for that,’ Phil responded with a grin. ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Meet you at nine, at that alleyway. Will Bruce be available then?’

  ‘Yes. I need you to requisition him before you go home.’

  They both stood and once again shook hands.

  ‘Thank you, Phil.’

  ‘No problem, boss. See you tomorrow.’

  Heather was sitting on the patio enjoying her first drink of the day in the warmth of the early morning sunshine; she saw Norwood and another police officer with a dog on a lead appear below her in the knee-high grass, and her cup tipped. She cursed quietly as the liquid spilled down her dressing gown.

  The two men were joined by Rosie Havenhand who glanced up at the patio as if that was the subject of the men’s discussion.

  Heather didn’t move. From their position she didn’t think she was visible, and she needed to know what they were doing. It slowly dawned on her that they had found George Ullyat’s body by using the dog, and in fact that had been a bonus. They hadn’t been looking for George. They suspected her and Claudia of murdering James and burying him somewhere on this plot of land.

  She mentally called herself all the names in the world; stupid, brain dead, crazy – her list was endless. How could she have been so thick as to bury him so close to her own home?

  Her thoughts escalated, as she realised it probably meant Norwood had further evidence linking her to James’s disappearance – could it be his car? Had it been forensically examined? Her blood had to be in it, just as much as James’s blood was there.

  The dog was sitting down but kept half standing, then sitting down again. He was a beautiful animal, she mused, probably one that was about to send her to prison for life.

  She saw the handler bend down and speak to the dog as Norwood and his DC stood and watched.

  The Alsatian stood for a moment then began to pull on his lead. The handler slipped the lead and the animal shot towards where she was sitting watching the proceedings. The dog was now underne
ath the patio, and Heather knew it was all over.

  The forensics team unearthed James within five minutes. It was very clear where the earth had been disturbed and Liam and Rosie, along with Neil who had travelled down once he heard it had been a successful search, watched with interest. Just because it was a body, didn’t mean it was automatically James Bell. They had thought the last body interred on this patch of land was him, only to be proven wrong.

  A white-suited member of the digging team pulled back the plastic cover in which the body was encased. Liam went inside the tent on hearing his name called and looked at the revealed face. Decomposition had started, but it was clearly James. He nodded, thanked the team for their help and left the tent.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, keeping his voice muted. ‘It’s definitely James Bell. I need to tell Mrs Bell, but until there is confirmation that there is something linking Heather Gower to that body, I intend leaving her alone. I want her to think she’s safe. I’m a hundred per cent sure she killed him, but I don’t know why. I want all my facts in place before I arrest her, so that’s what we need to concentrate on. And I need to know where he was killed. I think he must have been dead before he went in the car boot. There was very little blood, so there’s a site somewhere that could potentially reveal where his death happened.’

  ‘The cemetery,’ Rosie said slowly. ‘It’s our next port of call.’

  ‘It certainly is,’ Norwood confirmed. ‘But we have to treat this with some care. This is a baby’s grave, and the press would crucify us if we got this wrong. Initially, you and I will go, Rosie. We’ll only call the forensics in if we think there’s anything to get them in for. I suspect we’ll have enough on Heather Gower to convict her anyway, once the post-mortem is done. And to be perfectly honest, I think she’ll tell us everything. She’s not a criminal, she’s a middle-class woman who has had things happen to her.’

  ‘You reckon?’ Neil asked.

  ‘Don’t you?’ Liam countered. ‘You’ve read all the reports. And I have a feeling, intuition, call it what you want, that when we do have the facts on this it will prove to be self-defence. Yes, she’s going to prison. She concealed a body, and that’s major on its own, but she’s not going there for life. I’ll stake my job on it.’

  ‘Get this wrong,’ Rosie said, ‘and you might be doing just that.’

  Claudia walked into the lounge rubbing her eyes. ‘Look at the time! These new painkillers are absolutely knocking me out. Would hate to take more than two, I might never wake up again.’ Her face changed. ‘What have I just said, Heather?’

  Heather stood. ‘Hey, don’t let this bloody disease define you. Say what you want, when you want, especially if it’s just the two of us.’ Which might not be for much longer.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Claudia said. ‘I’ve not really come around yet. I’ll make myself a coffee, that might help.’

  ‘I’ll make it.’ Heather headed for the kitchen and switched on the kettle. She felt sick at the thought of what was to come; she had no doubt that Norwood had enough against her to arrest her, and it would happen soon. She made them both a coffee and walked back into the lounge. Claudia wasn’t there.

  ‘Claud!’ she called.

  ‘Patio,’ came back to her, and she groaned.

  She stepped outside and handed Claudia her drink.

  ‘What do you think is going off out here?’ Claudia asked, pointing to the edge of the tent just visible from where they were standing. Norwood and Rosie Havenhand were standing off to the left, and Neil Evans was walking towards the tent. He looked up and saw the women looking down at him. He acknowledged them with a brief wave of his hand.

  ‘Claud, we have to talk,’ Heather said.

  Norwood stayed until the body had been removed to the morgue, then he and Rosie left for the cemetery; Neil Evans headed back to the station.

  Liam and Rosie went into the office at the main gate, manned by an elderly lady with glasses on a cord around her neck. They were cushioned by her ample bosom.

  She smiled as they walked in, then the smile disappeared as she was shown their warrant cards. ‘How can I help?’ Smiles were reserved for grieving relatives, not policemen going about their business.

  ‘We need to locate the grave of a baby. Not sure of the Christian name but it was a little girl, two days old when she died around seven years ago, and she has the surname of Bell. Can you help us?’

  ‘Yes. One minute please.’ The woman moved to her computer, typed in the information she had, clicked on a couple of things and printed off the results. She moved back to the counter and handed over the printed sheet.

  ‘This is a layout of the full cemetery. This area here…’ She pointed with a red biro. ‘Is the children’s area. Please be respectful, there are always parents there, and they grieve forever. This grave here…’ She marked over the printed cross with the red biro. ‘Is the grave of Ella Mae Bell. Her mother comes every week, Saturday afternoon, brings fresh flowers and cleans the headstone. A much-loved little girl.’

  ‘You see her every week, the mother?’ Liam interrupted her flow.

  ‘I do.’ The woman lifted the counter hatch. ‘Come through and I’ll show you where the section is.’

  Liam followed her through and she led him to the window. ‘There.’

  He couldn’t miss it. The whole section was a riot of colour, not just from flowers but from toys, ribbons, cards; heartbreakingly beautiful.

  ‘And you see Mrs Bell every week, you say?’

  ‘Oh yes, although this past three or four weeks it’s not been the same. Is Mrs Bell okay?’

  ‘She is,’ Norwood confirmed. ‘Been a little under the weather but on the mend now.’

  ‘Oh good. I can set my clock by her. She’s usually here by around one, but if it’s later than that I don’t see her. The CCTV kicks in at one just before I go home.’

  ‘Does the CCTV cover that area?’

  ‘It does. That’s where we have most trouble, because the youths target it to get the toys and stuff the parents leave for their babies.’

  ‘And is it saved?’

  ‘Yes. I come in Monday morning, save the stuff that’s on since the last time it was set, and reset it. It’s all on here.’ She patted her screen.

  ‘You don’t look at it?’

  ‘Only if we need to. We haven’t had any trouble for a while, not since the police let it be known the CCTV was on the youths. Is there something you want to see?’

  ‘I want to get my man here to download everything from the last six weeks or so. Please allow him access to it when he comes. I won’t need to get a warrant, will I?’

  She looked flustered. ‘No, you won’t. Of course I’ll cooperate. Oh, I hope nothing’s wrong.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ he said with a smile, trying to placate her. ‘When my man gets here, he’ll have a password so that you know he’s the one entitled to take the download. His name is DC Neil Evans, and the password is Bruce. Thank you for your help. We’ll get out of your hair. The officer will be here in about half an hour at the most.’

  She nodded, then moved to the window and watched as they headed across to Ella Mae’s grave.

  Liam rang Neil as they reached the children’s area, and gave him the password, then they walked up the slight incline to the tiny grave.

  ‘Dear God,’ Rosie said. ‘This is bloody awful. How do they cope?’ She waved her arm around, indicating the many graves of infants. ‘How does anybody handle losing a child?’

  Norwood stood and read the inscription on Ella Mae’s headstone, and for a moment couldn’t speak. Didn’t even know what to say. It was the part that read Our Christmas baby that floored him.

  He turned to Rosie and saw the tears in her eyes. ‘Hey. We’re not allowed to cry. You okay?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s heart-breaking, that’s what it is. Every one of these graves belongs to a child. And that woman, the one whose world we’re about to destroy when we take her best friend away from her, has been h
ere every Saturday for seven years. It’s a shitty world, sometimes, isn’t it?’

  Chapter 25

  They met up back at the station, Liam, Rosie and Neil, and waited while Neil downloaded the file to his own computer.

  ‘I started from the 3rd of April,’ Neil explained. ‘Just to put it in context, this is the Monday before Heather Gower’s husband, Owen Gower, dies. She admitted to having seen James Bell at the cemetery on Saturday 16th of April, when he was looking for his wife, but said she didn’t see him the Saturday after. On the 16th of April, Mrs Bell was in hospital. She’d had her operation for cancer the day before and obviously was very ill. She arrives home on the 20th of April, still very poorly but recovering at home under Heather Gower’s care. Heather said she went to the grave on her own the following Saturday, that’s 23rd of April, but she said she didn’t see James that time. I think that will be the date we need to look at. Councillor Monroe says this was the last time he saw James. It all ties in.’

  ‘Okay, and thanks for the recap. It’s good to refresh the timeline,’ Liam said. ‘Can you take it to the Friday, the day before, and we’ll check it from then?’

  ‘Right, I’ll switch it through to the screen on the wall, and we can all see it in much more detail.’

  Claudia was shaking. ‘You’re seriously telling me that the body they’re digging up down there is James? And you killed him?’

  Heather nodded. She couldn’t say any more, she had no words left. Telling the full story of him pushing her backwards onto the headstone, and then her bringing around the scissors that ended up embedded in his neck had been hard, but telling her the full story of getting him in the car boot and finally burying him had left Claudia devoid of any colour, and trembling.

  Heather forced herself to speak. ‘Norwood must have suspected me from the start, and logic made him bring the dog here. It threw everybody off when they found George Ullyat, but Liam’s now realised they stopped looking after finding George. He’s come back for a second bite of the cherry, and they’ve found him. James. Claudia, I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did. I was so scared of him, and my arm came up to defend myself. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.’