Where There’s A Will

by Coles, Linda

  “Might be better to call a taxi,” Birdie said helpfully. “Perhaps pick it up tomorrow. iIt’ll be safe in the churchyard with all these police around. It sounds like these guys are going to be here a while.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” said Will resignedly. “I’ll get Louise to drive me tomorrow, pick it up.” He looked at the time on his phone. She’d be at home with the girls by now, so he couldn’t even ask her for a lift back, there would be no one to mind the little ones.

  “I can recommend a lovely taxi driver,” Birdie said, winking. “Unfortunately, though, I hear his car’s off the road currently.”

  Sixty-One

  It had been lunchtime by the time the killer had got back to work. They’d been surprised at how calm they’d felt, though the first one in particular had been fraught, and they’d been on edge and upset afterwards. The second one had been somewhat easier, but the third? It had barely registered on their emotional scale. They wondered about the cellar location – the bed and the room had been so convenient. Most people didn’t know the chambers existed so no one would even think to look down there.

  On the way home from work that evening, they took a detour to drive past St Sep’s, just out of interest to see if there was anything going on. They knew that each time they took a victim, they were surely another step closer to being found out, it was inevitable, but were the police on to them yet? Three victims would give them three sets of clues – how close were they? As the killer approached the church on Campbell Street, they felt a little disheartened to see so much activity in the church car park. Police cars and vans, with forensic teams and others that made up the entourage, could quite clearly be seen as they drove past. There was nothing in the room that could link them to the crimes; the bed stripped, there were only food wrappers left, if they even discovered the room in the first place. Nothing could be linked back – they’d worn gloves, of that they were grateful. Still, seeing the police activity gave a jolt of realisation as to how close the authorities were getting. Moving the last victim in time had been a stroke of luck, and the killer wondered for a moment what had led the cops to the church in the first place. Thoughts curdled in their stomach at the realisation of the close call. The money hadn’t come through, the blackmail scheme hadn’t worked, and three lives had been wasted for nothing. So far, the one person they did want to hurt hadn’t been at all. If nothing else, the killer needed to fix that. He was the whole point of the exercise; the three unfortunate victims were collateral damage.

  Pulling up outside their own neat property, they sat quietly, looking out at the building to their side. Inside was a normal life ready to envelope them – family, belongings, everything they cared about. Would these be hit by the fallout from their actions? If it was ever revealed what they’d done, prison would be the least of their woes. The living room curtain twitched slightly, and a slender hand waved. Somewhere deep inside the killer’s chest, a heartstring pulled in several directions all at once, threatening to snap. What would happen to her and her needs if a parent was taken away? There was no doubt the girl would suffer. The killer forced a smile to their face, and headed indoors as if they’d had the same depressing day at work that they had every other day, that nothing had happened in their world and all was the same as usual. At least they wouldn’t have to slip out to Hunsbury Hill in the middle of the night again, there was that.

  It was done now, there was no going back. All the killer could do was act normal, stay relaxed and consider the next part. They hoped there’d be no more bodies, three was enough.

  The message had been sent, loud and clear, but had it simply been ignored?

  Sixty-Two

  Darkness settled on the car park as DI Mason took a break from the cellar and tunnels below the church. Will had been right, it was cold and damp down there, and she felt an aching deep inside her bones. She wondered how the team on Hunsbury Hill were doing. DCI Karen Miller, the SIO on the case, had organised another group to watch the area for the evening, since they expected another body to be delivered, presumably to roughly the same place where the previous victims had been found. If the photograph was anything to go by, there would be a third, it was just a matter of time before somebody found it. The forensic team had set up shop and were busy working below ground, but by the look of the old stripey mattress, there could be a good deal of DNA to filter through. Goodness knows how many people had slept on the thing over the years. The only obvious recent addition to the cellar was the food wrappers and they’d gone off to be fingerprinted. If the prints were on file, she should have the results back very soon. If they were either Clyde’s, Bowie’s or both, that could be the deciding factor of whether a crime had in fact been committed below her feet. The location would fit with the coordinates of the image she’d seen.

  She stared up at the dark sky, heavy clouds covering any moon. Perhaps it would rain again soon. Closing her eyes, she plunged herself into deep thought and blocked out the surrounding noise. Who else knew about the access tunnel from the church? It wasn’t common knowledge, and apparently was a long way from other entry points that were known about. It made sense, then, that whoever had been using the room gained access from the inside. Did they have a key, or were they brazen enough to enter in broad daylight? She tossed Will and his two elderly friends and their involvement into the mix, though deep down she knew they weren’t involved. She believed Will’s explanation, he’d been down there to get samples for the CSIs to compare to, he was trying to help and his actions didn’t fit with someone who had something to hide. It was purely gut instinct to link the tunnels to the deaths of those he was trying to serve, that and the odour he’d so intuitively picked up at the mortuary. It was only because of the GPS coordinates from the photo sent by the amateur that she’d become aware of the tunnels herself.

  Colin Hayhurst was in a whole lot of trouble now. Why the hell he hadn’t come forward at the beginning was beyond her imagination, save to say he was one selfish individual. She’d interview him properly in the morning – he could stew for a while first, safely retired in one of the cells until she was ready to get to him. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. Her phone buzzed; it was DC Flint.

  “Stephen. What do you have?” she asked, focusing.

  “Three sets of prints on three sets of food wrappers, I’m afraid,” he said.

  She could detect his pause. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me who they belong to and I’m not going to like it.”

  “Two belong to our first two victims and the third belongs to someone we are already aware of. He’s been collared for petty crime and was in the station recently. He goes by the name of Jonesy.”

  “Oh hell.”

  “You know him, then?”

  “Yes,” she said, letting out a heavy sigh. “We’ve already met Jonesy in the course of this case. Remember, he was left in Towcester Road Cemetery after being beaten up. What’s he doing involved in this now? As a victim, or the perpetrator?”

  “Do you think they’d tried again because he talked to us?”

  “Possibility. Or he could be involved up to his neck and what he told us was a crock of shit.”

  “Victim?” he asked.

  “More likely. There’s no face on the photograph, just the torso, and we know from the coordinates it was taken here.”

  “The wrapper just means Jonesy was here and nothing more. We need to keep an open mind.”

  “I’m guessing you’ve not heard anything from Hunsbury Hill?” she said, changing the subject. “Maybe it’s a bit early yet.”

  “I’d say so. If anything is going to happen up there tonight, it will be much later, too many people hanging around at this hour still walking dogs. If you’re going to move the body, you’re going to do it in the wee hours, surely.”

  “Agreed, though that wasn’t the case with the first one, remember? For now, let’s make sure all units are on the lookout for Jonesy – we need to speak to him urgently, assuming he’s still wit
h us. Send someone down to the shelter and see if he’s been seen today, and I’ll contact Will, he might know more.”

  “Righto.”

  Rochelle hung up and dialled Will’s number. She needed his help after all and wasn’t too proud to ask for it.

  “Sorry to bother you, Will. I hope it’s not too late?”

  “Not at all. What can I help you with?”

  “I need to know if you or anybody has seen your friend Jonesy recently. DC Flint is speaking to the shelter, but I know you know a little more about the man. Have you seen him recently?”

  “No, I haven’t actually. Why, what’s happened? Surely you don’t think he’s involved in some way, do you?”

  “I think I can trust you, Will. Can I?”

  “Of course.”

  She could hear the indignation in his tone, but pushed it aside. He’d been thoughtful enough to look out for her after her treatment that day, and figured he was a decent sort. She had nothing to suggest otherwise. “Keep this to yourself, but one of the sets of prints on those food wrappers belongs to Jonesy.”

  “I hardly think he’s involved in this – is that what you’re thinking?” Will said, trying not to sound too incredulous.

  “I don’t know what to think at the moment, I’m keeping an open mind, but he’s obviously been in that room. I’m also hoping he’s not a victim we’re about to find.”

  Will took a moment to digest what he had just been told. “What can I do?”

  “You can find out if anyone has seen him, those close to where he has been hanging out, and who he’s been with.”

  Will thought back to where the lad had been living, not far from the tunnel entrance at Bridge Street.

  “I know where he’s been staying of recent, another tunnel actually, just by the Bridge Street entrance. I’ll go and check it out now.”

  “I’ll have an officer meet you there, don’t be going in on your own.”

  “Under the circumstances it’s probably better if I do go on my own. Not everyone wants to see the police. They know me, most of them. I’ll be fine.” Will glanced at the clock over the mantelpiece. It was coming up to nine o’clock. Not the ideal time to be going into the tunnel again – on his own.

  Sixty-Three

  Louise had heard every word, at least Will’s side of the telephone conversation. When the call ended, she said, “I guess you’re going out?”

  “Sorry, I’ll try not to be long,” he said. “It seems that Jonesy… Well, I’ll fill you in later. I have to go and check again where he currently resides, if you could call it that, see if anybody has seen him recently. He might be in trouble, that’s all I can say.” He watched her face fall at the word ‘trouble’. “I’ll be fine. Now, just so you know where I am, there is an entrance to a tunnel just at the bottom of Bridge Street behind some boards. I’ve only got to check if Jonesy is at his place and then I’ll be back, okay?”

  “Why can’t the police do it?”

  “I need to talk to him, and he might run off if the police show up, I don’t want to risk it.”

  “Okay. Take care of yourself, Will,” she said. “Don’t do anything silly. I know you’re only trying to help in this investigation, but please just look after yourself.” She gave him a quick hug and a light kiss on the side of his neck. “The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back,” she said, starting towards the door.

  Will took the hint and grabbed his coat off the banister at the bottom of the stairs and checked his pockets for car keys before remembering where his was still parked. “Damn! I’ll have to take your car, mine’s still up at the church. Where are your keys?”

  “I’ll get them,” she said, bending to retrieve them from inside her bag nearby.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Louise watched from the front step as he headed out into the night. The temperature had dropped considerably from the day and she pulled her cardigan tight around her body before going back inside. The girls were all tucked up in their beds, and she had the living room to herself but didn’t feel much like finishing the movie they’d been watching together. She turned the TV off and headed up to read in bed, where she’d wait for him to arrive home later.

  Will parked as close to the tunnel entrance as he could. He hoped this wasn’t going to take long, that Jonesy was sat with his mates by his makeshift home and all he had to do was have a quick chat and report back to DI Mason then go. He moved one of the boards that was covering the entrance, as George had shown him only a couple of days ago, and slipped inside, pulling the board back in place behind him. He waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could see the distant, shallow lighting up ahead, so turned on the torch on his phone and made his way down the short way to Jonesy’s patch. It was obvious to Will, as soon as he got there, there was no sign of him. His crude bed didn’t look like it had been slept in and his few belongings were piled neatly as they had been before. Something told Will that Jonesy hadn’t been there for a while. A familiar voice called out to him, the same one from last time he’d been there, with George.

  “He isn’t there, not seen him.” Will turned towards the voice and approached the man.

  “Jonesy?” he asked.

  “You asked about him last time, not seen him since.”

  It wasn’t what Will wanted to hear. Had the lad just moved on again, like he had last time? Found new friends to hang out with? Will wasn’t convinced, he’d have taken his stuff.

  “Have you seen anybody else hanging around his place?”

  “Nah.”

  There was nothing left for it but to head back out. DI Mason already said an officer was going to the centre to see if anybody had seen Jonesy, but Will knew that if he hadn’t been back to his own place, he wouldn’t be up at Refresh either. He called Hazel anyway, just for his own peace of mind. After a brief conversation to confirm what he already knew, Will could feel his heart sinking and just hoped that the lad hadn’t gone the same way as Clyde and Bowie had.

  It seemed strange, though. It didn’t fit. They’d already had a go at him once, he’d woken up at the cemetery. Why hadn’t they taken him then? Had they been disturbed? Why bother with him now? He’d had nothing to tell the police. Maybe that was it? Maybe they knew he’d been to the police and couldn’t guarantee that he hadn’t given evidence, hadn’t seen something himself, and maybe someone had since decided to clear up a potentially loose end?

  He called DI Mason and relayed to her that Jonesy hadn’t been home for some time in his opinion. There was little more Will could do. He rang Louise to tell her that he was on his way back and tried not to dwell on the fact that the lad was missing – again. It wouldn’t normally have been a problem, since it seemed Jonesy was someone that didn’t stay in one place for very long, but the fact that his fingerprints were on the food wrapper, along with those of the two dead victims, didn’t bode well. Will remembered the blue pen that he’d found when he’d dropped the young mother and her toddler at the cemetery. Would DI Mason tell him if it had been useful in any way? He’d meant to ask her earlier, but somehow, it had slipped his mind. He pressed her number again and crossed his fingers.

  “What is it, Will?” she asked.

  “I forgot to ask, did you ever find out if there were any prints on that pen I dropped in, the one I found at the cemetery?”

  “We did actually, and they match a person we are now aware of.”

  “What? You mean you’ve got a suspect already?”

  “Not exactly, but until I understand how the prints fit into all this, all I can say is he’s helping us with our enquiries.”

  It was news to Will. Good news at last.

  Sixty-Four

  Louise watched as Will played with cereal in his bowl and knew they wouldn’t be going out today as originally planned. She could see the case was bothering him and had felt him tossing and turning in bed for most of the night. He’d arrived home and informed her no one had seen Jonesy and that he was worri
ed about him, and all she could do was rub his shoulders and encourage him to relax. Looking at him now, it was as though he’d been through hell and back, and there was nothing that she could do apart from lend an ear and her support.

  “Hey,” she said, touching his arm. He laid his spoon down in the bowl and sat back in his chair, his eyes searching hers.

  “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “I can see that,” she said. “Why don’t you do what you need to do today, and I’ll take the girls out for some fun, keep them out of your hair. Unless you want to come, of course, but by your long face maybe not. Don’t put yourself through it if you don’t want to. Maybe you’re better staying here and trying to get some rest?”

  “You’re always so understanding,” he said. “It’s one of the reasons why I love you so much.”

  She squeezed his forearm gently then removed his cereal bowl, stacking it in the dishwasher. “Why don’t you ring her?”

  “Who?”

  “Your DI friend. Why don’t you ring her and put yourself out of your misery? She just might tell you.”

  “I doubt she will, but I suppose it’s worth a try, otherwise I’ll just sit here all day wondering.”

  “Then go now and ring her, before it gets any later,” she instructed and busied herself wiping the table down. She hoped that the woman had some good news for her husband and not bad. Will dialled the number and waited for it to connect.

  “I wondered when you would call,” she said in greeting.

  “Have you any news?”

  “Only to say that nothing materialised at Hunsbury Hill last night. We had officers all over the place expecting activity, but there was nothing. So no, I have no news on your friend, or anything else for that matter.”

  “Well, that’s something positive at least. There’s a chance he’s still alive somewhere and he’s just gone incommunicado again. He might not be connected to this in any way, he might have just gone off in a drunken stupor and is laid out in some squat sleeping it off.” There was hope in his voice. It didn’t, however, fit with Jonesy’s prints being found on the food wrappers.