by Joy Ellis
‘Okay, but don’t stay all night.’ Jon moved away to the coffee machine and wondered just how much of a private life young Scotty actually had. He may be strikingly good looking, but Jon got the impression that Scott’s ideal night in would not involve anything other than a takeaway, a pot of coffee, 8 GBs of RAM and second generation Intel Core i7 processor.
Carefully balancing three hot polystyrene beakers, Jon placed one next to Scotty, then took the other two back to Kate’s office.
She was just replacing the phone as he went in, and he thought she seemed edgier than when he left. ‘Something wrong?’
‘Everything.’ Kate’s face was a mask of both anger and mystification. ‘Elizabeth Sewell is being transferred, but I’ve just been speaking to the FMO out at Harlan Marsh, and told him it’s imperative that we interview Micah Lee. He says the man’s mind is in a state of flux. One minute he’s lucid and reasonable, the next he’s climbing the walls.’ She glowered at the phone. ‘And I don’t have the time go there and sodding well sit around waiting for one of his ‘reasonable moments.’
‘Couldn’t an officer from Harlan Marsh do it for you? Someone who is on hand to monitor Lee’s moods.’
‘And you’d actually trust someone from Cade’s manor, would you?’ she spat out.
‘I trust Gary.’ he said quietly. ‘So I’d trust any one Gary vouched for. They can’t all be bent, ma’am. One rotten apple won’t have corrupted the whole barrel.’
Kate leant forward, elbows on the desk and her head in her hands. ‘You’re right. Sorry, Jon. Ask Gary to come in, would you?’ She sat up straight. ‘In fact, get the team together in the CID room. We need to talk.’
Kate perched on the edge of a desk in front of one of the big white boards. Down one side of the board was a list of the victims. They had begun as just bed numbers, first names and dates of birth, if known. But now full names, photographs and locations of disappearance were appearing. Already they had bright smiling photos of Tessa Avery, Sophie Berry, Hebe Brock and just a few seconds ago, Annie Crane and Lucy O’Connell had been added.
At the top of the board was the name Windrush, and below that; the names, Benedict Broome, Elizabeth Sewell and Micah Lee.
Kate stood up and pointed to Elizabeth. ‘This woman is a direct link to the Children’s Ward, but we already know from Prickles that some of the dead girls had been seriously assaulted with a great deal of force, and possibly raped, so that means that either she had an accomplice, or her involvement is in some way.., ‘she shrugged, ‘…accidental.’
‘But she is connected to Broome, and to Lee, by way of his being employed by Broome.’ Jon pursed his lips. ‘So what if her employer asked her to print out some labels? She’d do it, wouldn’t she? And not necessarily be aware of what they were?’
‘That,’ said Kate, ‘is what I mean by accidental. And maybe she’d do it for a friend too. We need to talk to her as soon as she’s been assessed at Saltern Hall. Meanwhile, Gary, I need a trustworthy senior detective at Harlan Marsh, someone who would interview Lee for us, and preferably without Chief Superintendent Cade knowing. Is there such an officer?’
‘Only one that I know of, ma’am. DI Jim Salmon.’
‘Jim Salmon? The same guy who used to be our dog handler years back? He’s a detective?’ Kate’s eyes widened. ‘Perfect, I’ll ring him as soon as we’ve finished.’ She turned back to the board. ‘So who else have we spoken to?’
‘Broome’s gardener, Guv. Bloke named Len Curtis.’ Scott looked at his notebook. ‘Funny sort; it was hard to get him to string two words together. But he has been out to Windrush a few times, with messages or deliveries for Micah Lee, and he only lives about two miles from Roman Creek.’
Kate wrote the name on the board. ‘Who else?’
‘Philip Graves, the vet who lives on the edge of the marsh, just a short way from Windrush. And two other neighbours, a bird-watcher called Ralph Jenkins, and a couple called Ernie and Betty Coulter.’
‘And Gary and I spoke to Bill Hickey, the farm manager where Micah Lee lodges.’ She paused. ‘But the farmer was away. What was his name, Gary?’
‘Toby Tanner. Expected back from Germany tomorrow, according to Hickey.’
‘Is that it?’
‘No, ma’am. There were several other people living in the Roman Creek area that uniform saw, but most were elderly women, apart from a couple who have a holiday let a bit further up the coast road.’ Rosie shook her head. ‘No-one they’d pay a second visit to, and all the so-called ‘neighbours’ are well scattered over a very large area. Windrush is quite remote.’
Jon raised his hand. ‘And maybe we should include Asher Leyton on the list of people we’ve spoken to. It’s a very vague connection, but he did know of Shauna Kelly, and she has definitely been placed at one of those parties’.
Kate added the man’s name to the board. ‘Okay, so in summary, we go back to talking to Benedict Broome, to Elizabeth Sewell and Micah Lee. And on a different tack, we hit the drinking club again.’ As there were other officers in the room, she kept strictly to the connection to the abducted girls, Toni and Emily, and the victims of the Children’s Ward. ‘The organisers may have nothing directly to do with girls being abducted, but we need them brought in, questioned, and those damned parties brought to an end.’ She looked around at the tired faces staring back at her. ‘Now, all of you who can, get yourselves home and get some rest. We start again tomorrow.’
‘That guy is one serious fruit-cake, my friend.’ The Harlan Marsh custody officer closed the door of the interview room. ‘Now he’s all yours, and the best of British in trying to get any sense out of him.’
DI Jim Salmon raised his eye-brows and wondered if he had been a little too quick in agreeing to help out DCI Kate Reynard. He’d already heard that Chief Superintendent Cade had tried to interview Mad Micah, and had had to abort it almost immediately. He just prayed that Cade wouldn’t get to hear about this particular unplanned attempt too soon. At least the Chief was off duty until the morning.
Along with his sergeant, DS Terry Langer, and a hastily acquired social worker from the duty rota to safeguard the prisoner’s interests, Jim reluctantly entered the small room.
Micah Lee sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and staring, and his nostrils already flaring with anger.
Jim Salmon looked at him and decided that when Kate had said she owed him one, she had meant it, and he would definitely make her pay, big time. With a deep sigh, he switched on the tape and made the introductions. ‘Mr Lee, we need to talk to you about an underground room beneath the property called Windrush at Roman Creek. That is the property belonging to Mr Benedict Broome, and where you have been working for some time.’ Jim kept his voice even and quiet. Luckily he was a softly spoken man and he hoped that that may help with this particular interviewee. He had known the moment he saw the man, that any form of forcefulness would be construed as aggression, and he had no wish to inflame the mercurial Micah any further. ‘We are specifically asking you because of your knowledge of the lay-out of Windrush, Mr Lee. Having worked on it for so long, we feel that you may be able to help.’
‘What room? I don’t know about any underground room!’ boomed Micah.
Jim noticed a vein pulsing in the side of the man’s head, and made even more of an effort to speak calmly.
‘Surely you know that there is a tunnel leading from the back of the main house out towards the old barn and the storeroom, and that there is an underground room beneath them?’
The big man threw Jim a wild look. The kind of look the detective could have imagined on the face of an animal finding itself caged and threatened.
Micah chewed furiously on his bottom lip, and drummed his fingers frantically on the table top. ‘I don’t know any tunnel. No, no tunnel.’
Jim attempted a smile. ‘Okay, but do you know…?’
The keening howl that suddenly erupted from Micah’s lips made them all leap up in fright as it echoed around the tiny room.
Jim’s chair fell backwards, and the social worker uttered a little scream, one that she stifled very quickly when she saw Micah staring straight at her, his teeth bared in a snarl.
But Micah hadn’t actually been seeing the woman at all, because before anyone could move, his breathing became a series of ragged, gasping breaths, and he pitched forward onto the floor.
Jim slammed his hand into the rubber strip that surrounded the room, and the panic button activated the emergency alarm throughout the station. ‘Get help!’ he yelled, as he threw himself down beside the now unconscious Micah. ‘We need an ambulance.’
‘The duty doctor is in the building.’ called back Langer. ‘He was dealing with a junkie as we came in.’ He ran for the door. ‘I’ll get him.’
In a matter of moments the doctor was by Jim’s side.
‘It’s probably some kind of panic attack. He’s sweaty and tachy-cardic. He may well have hyperventilated and that caused the faint, but…’ The doctor checked the man’s pulse again. ‘We need to get him to the Pilgrim Hospital to be checked out properly. I’m not just covering our backs, Detective Inspector Salmon. I’m not at all happy with his condition.’ He looked worried. ‘There may be a neurological reason for this and we can’t risk leaving it.’
‘Believe me, doctor, I was good with the ‘covering our backs’ scenario. The faster we can get him out of here the better.’
‘Ambulance is on its way, Guv.’ The sergeant leant around the door. ‘And uniform are organising an escort.’ He stared down at Micah. ‘I can’t say I’ll be sad to see that one go, either. That’s one scary guy!’
As the stretcher was placed in the back of the ambulance, Jim stretched, went back inside and wondered how he was going to tell the Fox that he’d inadvertently hospitalised her prisoner. And worse than that, how would Chief Cade react when he found out?
It was very late by the time Kate and Jon concluded Benedict Broome’s second interview. He had been polite, but vehemently denied any knowledge of work ever being carried out from an underground tunnel. In fact he denied knowledge of any such tunnel. He also looked totally nonplussed regarding the name cards that they believed were written by his house-keeper.
In the end, they called it a day, and Kate decided to keep schtum about their killer singing as he roamed his subterranean necropolis. She and Jon thought perhaps they would keep that little piece of information to themselves until they could use it more effectively.
‘I wonder if he was a choir boy,’ mused Jon, as they left the interview room. ‘But he didn’t grow up around here, so that could be tough nut to crack.’
‘Worth a try though.’ Kate punched in the security number on the door, and flung it open. ‘But right now, we need sleep. Go check the team, Jon. Whoever is left, pack them off to their homes and their beds.’
Jon nodded, but before he could say anything, Kate’s mobile shrieked out.
‘Ah, Jim Salmon, yes, what have you got for me?’
Jon watched as Kate’s mouth dropped fractionally.
‘Shit! How the hell…? Oh well, not your fault, Jim, I’m just sorry to have put you through that. The Pilgrim Hospital in Boston? Yeah, but make sure he’s watched 24/7. Two officers at all times. Have you got the manpower for that, or shall I get you some back-up? Right, well, thanks for trying. Night, Jim. Oh, and any agro from your Chief, refer him to me, okay?’ She closed the phone and stared grimly at Jon. ‘Micah Lee denied knowing about any tunnels or underground rooms, then he collapsed. He’s been taken to the Pilgrim for neurological evaluation.’ She made a low growling noise. ‘That puts two of our three suspects out of our direct supervision, and I don’t like that one bit.’
Jon agreed, but that kind of thing was out of their hands. And right now, he could barely think straight. He was exhausted, and the rest of the team probably felt exactly the same. ‘See you in the morning, Guv. Let’s see what tomorrow brings, shall we?’
‘And speaking of the morning, Benedict Broome should either be released or charged at 8 am, so I’d better get someone around to the magistrate for an extension. And considering what lies beneath that man’s property, I’ll go on getting bloody extensions until we have the truth.’ Kate gently rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. ‘And regarding what tomorrow brings? I dread to guess, Jon. I really dread to guess.’
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Kate arrived home just after two thirty. The house was silent, and only a small lamp burnt in the downstairs hallway.
She tried to be quiet, but as she boiled the kettle to make a desperately needed cup of tea, she heard footsteps padding across the lounge.
‘Mum?’
She turned around and held her arms out to her youngest son. He was far too old for a cuddle, but it was Kate who needed it. And Eddie must have been very tired, because he walked slowly over and succumbed to her bear hug.
‘Crap day?’ He asked, extracting himself from her vice-like grip.
‘They don’t come any crappier, Ed.’
‘Thought so. Dad’s been acting weird. He let us watch late TV and have pizza and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. He only does that when he’s trying to compensate.’
Kate smiled and wished the hug had lasted longer. ‘Well, there has to be some advantages to my working late, doesn’t there?’
‘It’s a murder, isn’t it?’ Eddie said. ‘Was there lots of blood?’
‘I’m going to answer that by saying those three little words.’ She tried to look stern.
‘Oh yeah, I know, Official Secrets Act.’ Eddie leant against the kitchen work top and began to rearrange the storage containers into neat, straight lines. ‘But just telling me how gory it is won’t contravene any laws.’
‘Big words, son. Have you been helping your brother prepare his debut speech for the debating society?’
Eddie shrugged. ‘Marcus doesn’t need my help.’ He yawned. ‘If he wants to win, he’ll win. He’s like that, isn’t he?’
Kate nodded. Even if he was her own son, she’d never met a more focussed child than Marcus. ‘I suppose,’ she said, ‘but you should get back to bed. Much as I love your company, it’s almost three in the morning.’
With one final minute adjustment to the canisters, Eddie nodded, then went to the sink and carefully washed his hands with anti-bacterial soap. ‘Just wanted to see you, that’s all.’
I know, son, she thought, to check that I’m still alive and that no half-brained druggy has tried to carve their initials into my forehead.
She looked at Eddie with a mixture of love, compassion and pity. She knew they suffered. And she knew David tried to protect them, but although she hated to admit it, they were both teenagers now, and they were not stupid. They knew bad things happened, and when they did, the police were the ones to either take the flack, or mop up. David said that when they were younger, they would physically flinch when they heard two-tones screaming in the distance, in case their mother was the one in trouble.
‘I suppose another hug would be asking too much?’ Kate raised her eyebrows hopefully.
‘Don’t push it, Mother!’ Eddie made for the door. ‘Night.’
‘Night, sweetheart. Sleep well.’
She drank her tea, had a swift wash in the family bathroom, rather than use the en-suite and wake David, and slipped into bed.
‘What the hell time is it?’ David murmured grumpily.
Kate declined to answer. Hopefully he would soon return to his slumbers. After the day she’d had, she had hoped for a “Glad you’re home safe, sweetheart” and a cuddly kind of greeting. Even so, she snuggled into his back and held him tightly. Grouchy or not, she needed the comfort of his strong body. And frankly, this was more the usual sort of welcome. Maybe the novelty of being mega-supportive was wearing off. She yawned and hoped that they wouldn’t slip back into their old ways too quickly. She had begun to like things the way they were.
Kate closed her eyes and tried to slip into oblivion. Only that didn’t go quite to plan. T
he day continued to play itself over and over, as if on a continuous loop. And still she kept seeing those little vases of flowers.
She eased onto her side, still touching David’s back. She needed warm, human contact to try to dispel the demons that were crowding in on her.
She moved closer to him and smelt that familiar David-smell. He always had the same clean, outdoorsy fragrance about him; something that reminded her of autumn, of falling leaves and pine branches. And there was a hint of herbs from the shower gel that he always used. It made her feel safe; it always had done, from when they first got together until now. Even Kate liked to feel safe sometimes.
This was what kept her going. Coming home to the Old Police House, having a hug from one of her sons, and a husband to hold her.
It was normal. It was ordinary, and it was a tiny bit of sanity in a world that was beginning to make no sense at all.
For a moment Kate felt overwhelmed by love for her family, and that feeling was accompanied by a terrible fear that if she continued to alienate them in favour of her job, she may lose them all.
As sleep finally claimed her, she realised that Jon was right. She had to find a way to make compromises work, before it was too late.
After what seemed to be no time at all, Kate was grabbing at her alarm clock to stop it ringing and waking the whole house.
She eased her aching legs over the side of the bed and sat for a while. A feeling of dread was slowly oozing through her. A new day; and what would it bring? Some answers, she hoped. Kate yawned and stretched then stood up and walked barefoot to the door. She eased her dressing gown from the brass hook and slowly went down the stairs to the kitchen.