The Burying Place

by Vicky Jones

  “Sure. But I’ll be honest, I’m not feeling so good. I’m not really sleeping and I have this headache…”

  “It won’t take a minute. Can we come in?”

  Amanda shrugged and pushed the door wide enough for Rachel and Michelle to squeeze past. In the kitchen, Poppy was making two cups of coffee.

  “Oh…hello officers. Would you like a coffee?” Poppy smiled as she popped a pod into the coffee machine.

  “No thank you, Poppy. We just came to play Amanda the audio we have.” Rachel fished her phone out of her jacket pocket.

  “Poppy told me about it,” Amanda said. “Sorry I wasn’t available to confirm for you. I’ve been feeling very down lately and I just needed some space. I’m sure Poppy’s right. It probably is my mother on that tape. I’m just really upset that she has left me on my own. Who would do that to their own daughter? It’s a lot to take in and I’m trying my best to.”

  “All the same, I’d like to play it to you. If that would be OK? It won’t upset you too much, will it?” Rachel asked, unmoved by Amanda’s emotional state.

  “Upset me? Why? Because it proves my mother isn’t dead. She’s just left me alone, like my father did. I just have to deal with it.” The sarcasm dripped from Amanda, so much so that it startled Rachel. Throughout the playback of the audio, Amanda’s face remained completely impassive. “That’s her,” she confirmed.

  “Don’t you think there’s just something a little different about her voice, Mand?” Poppy piped up.

  “It’s her. And no. I don’t.” Amanda shot a hard look at Poppy, who flinched.

  “Can I ask where your washing machine is, please?” Rachel asked.

  Both Poppy and Amanda stared at Rachel, bewildered by her completely random question.

  “Why?” Amanda replied. Rachel raised an eyebrow at the lack of a simple yes.

  “Just something I need to check,” Rachel replied.

  Amanda led Rachel and Michelle over to the utility room. As they approached the washing machine, Michelle noted down the make and model.

  “It’s the right one, boss,” Michelle said, nodding. She took out her phone and snapped a picture of it.

  “I don’t understand.” Amanda said, folding her arms.

  “Well, you see, when your mother made that call, there was the very distinctive tune of a washing machine coming to the end of its cycle. We checked it out with our tech guys and, as it turns out, this one you have here is exactly the same make and model as the one on the tape. Your mum made that call to us with the washing machine in the background. It was only faint. But as you heard her say on the tape, she was on a train. Can you think of why she would say she was somewhere different than where she actually was?”

  Amanda shook her head and led them back into the kitchen, absent-mindedly picking things up and putting them down again. “Maybe her head wasn’t right and she meant she was about to board a train?”

  “Hmm…maybe,” Rachel nodded. “But we checked all the CCTV. There was no sign of your mother in any stations boarding any trains. It’s almost as if she was in this house one minute, then after that she’s not seen again. It’s a complete mystery.”

  Amanda held Rachel’s inquisitive stare for a moment, then looked away and shrugged again. “I bet they’ve sold loads of that make of washing machine. It’s probably coincidence. Anyway, you’re the detective. You work it out.”

  Both Michelle and Rachel noticed a change in Amanda’s body language.

  “Amanda, I need you to check the house and see if any of your mother’s belongings are missing: stuff that was here when you reported her missing a couple of weeks ago but has vanished since your mother called to us.”

  Amanda bristled, but didn’t say anything. With a huff, she went off to check, returning a few minutes later. “Not that I can tell, but I can’t say for sure.”

  “How are you coping, Amanda?” Rachel asked.

  “OK, I guess. Considering I now know my own mother doesn’t want to be here with me anymore. Charming, that.” Amanda took a long drink from her coffee. “Would be just typical if she did turn up dead now, after all my efforts to try and find her. But thank you, detective inspector, and you, PC Barlow, for all you’ve done to help. And I just want you to know that I won’t blame you, or your department, if my mother is found one day at the bottom of a cliff. Maybe that’s what she wanted after all. I have to accept that.”

  Poppy put her arm around Amanda’s shoulders, but Amanda’s changed demeanour pricked at Rachel.

  “You OK?” Michelle asked after noticing Rachel hadn’t said a word since they left the Walker residence.

  “Don’t you think it was weird? I mean, how would you be if your mum said she wanted to be away from everybody, including you?”

  Michelle frowned. “Devastated. Angry. Why?”

  “There wasn’t even a flicker of anger from Amanda. Just a coldness. It’s like she wasn’t surprised. I mean, her mother had just upped and left, without even a ‘see ya later’? Now, I don’t know about you, but if my mum had done that I’d be livid. At one point Amanda must have thought she was dead. Then when we get proof she’s alive, Amanda’s not even the slightest bit angry she’d been led to believe the worst? And don’t forget, her mum decides to ring the local police, not her. That must hurt. She sounded more pissed off with her, to be honest.”

  “People deal with trauma in different ways. What are you thinking?” Michelle replied.

  “I don’t know. Just seems a bit odd. Remember what she was like at the press conference? All tears when she thought her mum was missing. Now, not even a flicker.”

  “Reckon she knows more about this than she’s letting on?”

  “I’m starting to think so, yeah,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

  “Great. Hargreaves is gonna love us even more now,” Michelle replied.

  Amanda drummed her fingers on the white marble kitchen counter as Poppy busied herself at the sink. It had been ten minutes since Rachel and Michelle had left the house.

  “I’m not meaning to sound funny, Pops, but how long were you thinking of staying?”

  Poppy turned round, looking slightly hurt. “Oh, but I thought I could make us some dinner after I’ve washed up these cups.”

  “I’ve texted Max, asked him to stay the night. I mean, we have found out that my mum is OK. She just doesn’t want to be with me, but it’s fine. I’ll cope somehow,” Amanda replied.

  “I see. Sorry, I just assumed, with the news about your mum and everything, that you’d want some company.”

  “I do. Max.” Amanda’s tone hardened, as did her stare.

  “Right. You’ve hardly spoken about Max or seen him, so I didn’t know if that was all going OK. Well, I’ll leave you to it then.” Poppy folded the tea towel neatly and laid it on the counter. “But call me if you need anything. Promise?”

  “Promise,” Amanda replied, looking down at her phone as Poppy left.

  As soon as Amanda heard the front door close, she rose and walked over to it. She deadlocked it and threaded the chain across. Walking back into the kitchen, she locked the back door and pulled the blind down. After filling a plastic beaker with water, she took a pre-packaged sandwich out of the fridge and headed towards the utility room. Placing the beaker and sandwich on the counter, she lifted the rug below her, revealing a cellar hatch, around three feet square. Pulling at the silver ring, the hatch rose. Inside was a set of wooden steps. Amanda picked up the beaker and sandwich and descended the steps.

  “No point making any noise. It’s just you and me here now. I finally got rid of Poppy.”

  She reached the bottom and stood staring at the pathetic sight of her mother bound to a rickety wooden chair and gagged, her head lolled to the side. Her usually pristine makeup was now smeared all over her face and had mixed with her terrified tears. Her once perfectly curled shoulder length brown hair was now flat and dull, and matted around her temples from sweat. She was still very drowsy from the latest d
ose of drugs that she had been forced to take. Amanda had soundproofed the room as best she could, but it wasn’t perfect. Drugging her mother when she went out or she was expecting anyone to come around to the house was her only option. Diana Walker mumbled her reply and opened her eyes, red from the dust and the grime from the musty wine cellar air, but with remnants of fight still in them.

  “What’s that, Mother dearest? Can’t quite make out what you said there?” Amanda mocked. “That was a close one, phew. Had the coppers walking just above your head just then. Good thing they never stood on the rug, otherwise they’d have felt the hatch. But, they’re closing the missing person case on you now. Now that you’ve called in to say you’re safe and well. They did say you didn’t sound yourself though, but I’m not sure how they would sound having a five-inch knife against their throat as they were speaking, but still…”

  Amanda smirked and stepped closer to her mother. She removed the gag and fed her the sandwich. Diana took a hungry bite, almost choking with the dryness of her throat. Seeing this, Amanda gave her a sip of the water.

  “So, tell me, how does it feel to know that there isn’t a soul now looking for you? How does it feel to be left completely alone? Not very nice, is it?”

  “Amanda, please. Just let me go. I won’t say anything. I’ll pretend I just went away for a while. Please. You don’t have to do this.” Diana Walker’s voice was thin, desperate. Fresh tears began to trace themselves down the streaks already there on her sweaty face.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t be down here for much longer.” Amanda smiled as a look of relief drifted over her mother’s face, knowing she was about to shatter it. “Once I find out where to dump your body, you’ll be out of here.”

  Amanda replaced the gag, stifling her mother’s anguished cry, then ascended the steps without another word. She closed the hatch, plunging Diana once again into darkness.

  Chapter 15

  “How do you think she’ll take it?” Michelle asked, as they walked over to Hargreaves’ office from their desks. It was just after 6 p.m. and everyone else had already gone home.

  “Soon find out,” Rachel replied, knocking.

  “Come in,” came the usual harsh bark from inside.

  Rachel pushed the door open and saw Hargreaves sitting at her desk. “Ma’am. I know I’m supposed to be closing the Diana Walker case…”

  Hargreaves let out a long exhale. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear on that one.”

  “Yes. You did. But there’s just something niggling me still.”

  Hargreaves took off her glasses and fixed Rachel with a weary, but sharp, stare. “For fuck’s sake, Rachel, I need you on other cases. Let this one go. It’s sorted.”

  “Call it copper’s instinct, but I just need another day or so. I’d like to have a look at the CCTV from the immediate surrounding area of the Walker house.”

  “I thought we’d reviewed all that?” Hargreaves replied.

  “The footage of the train stations, Anderson’s garage and the roads in between.” Rachel paused and looked back at Michelle who took out her notepad. “But we didn’t look at the security camera right above Diana’s front door. Or the one fixed above the side gate.”

  Hargreaves sat forward in her chair. “I wasn’t aware there was a camera on the property.”

  “Neither was I. It’s only small and Amanda didn’t mention it. I noticed it just now when we left the Walker premises. It’s only tiny, the one above the gate. And the one on her door is one of those new doorbell cameras. The ones that tell you the postman’s been.”

  “What are you thinking, Rachel?” Hargreaves asked, her hard stare softening into an inquisitive look.

  “I want to know when, and more importantly if, Diana Walker actually walked out of that house prior to her daughter reporting her missing.”

  Hargreaves thought it over for a second. “What? You think she’s under the patio or something? Whatever’s going on here, I need answers because I want this bloody case wrapped up sharpish.” Hargreaves sighed. “OK, I get that you have a gut feeling about this case, but I can’t keep throwing resources at something that might not even be a crime. I’ll give you a couple more days and then that’s it. If there’s a crime going on, solve it; if not, hand it over to the Misper Unit. I mean it, Rachel.”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now both of you, go home and get some rest. If I know that look on your face, DI Morrison, this case is far from over.”

  Back at their desks, Michelle grabbed her police jacket and logged off her computer. “You coming out for a drink with us all tonight? You missed the last one, remember?”

  Rachel shook her head. “No, not tonight. Adam’s bringing home a curry, so...”

  “Oooh, very nice,” Michelle said, winking. “Have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

  “Night, Michelle.”

  Once she’d gone, Rachel fished out her phone and called Adam’s number. Sighing, she waited for the beep. “Hi… It’s me,” she began. “Look…I just wanted you to know, I know what I did. And I’m sorry. I totally understand now when you said I was getting too involved in cases. I guess I just can’t help myself. It takes its toll on those around me, and I get that now. I’m different now. Since losing our baby I…” Rachel paused, wiping her eyes with her palm. “I know I hurt you, and I know what happened was all my fault. The stuff I did. I’m so sorry. Please, just call me back, Adam. We can work this all out, but we need to talk. I miss you.”

  Rachel pressed the end call button. Before she put the phone back in her jacket, a message from her mum popped up. Before she’d even thought about it, she’d texted back, declining her mother’s invite for dinner.

  “Max, hi,” Amanda said after opening her front door to him. She smiled as he stood on the grey stone doorstep, the yellowy porch light bouncing off his chiselled cheekbones.

  “I came straight over. I’m so glad you texted. Mum’s got the dog tonight, so I can stay as long as you want me to. I’ve missed you. You haven’t been returning my calls recently, so I was beginning to think…” Max swept his dark hair out of his chocolate brown eyes and blushed. “Anyway. Here.” He thrust a huge bunch of flowers towards Amanda, who took them reluctantly. “You look amazing, by the way,” Max gushed, looking her up and down, her tight red dress mesmerising him.

  “You didn’t have to go to such an effort, Max,” she replied, looking down at the flowers with disdain. Max, completely oblivious to Amanda’s reaction, smiled and smoothed down his freshly pressed purple shirt. “Come in then.”

  Max shimmied past Amanda and walked into the kitchen.

  “Drink?” Amanda asked, dumping the flowers on the counter.

  “Erm…well, I brought this.” Max showed her a bottle of screw-top Chardonnay.

  Amanda wrinkled her nose.

  “But, well, maybe you’ve got something better down in the cellar. I’ll go check, shall I? You always say you hate going down there. Don’t worry, I’ll get the spiders.” Max stepped towards the wine cellar hatch, but Amanda grabbed his arm.

  “No. It’ll be fine. I’ll put it in the fridge to cool.” She pulled him away from the hatch area by wrapping her arms around him. “Besides, I don’t need alcohol to warm me up tonight. I’m not wearing any knickers.” She grabbed his free hand and slid it up her dress, biting her lip as he gasped.

  “OK then,” Max said. “But I really don’t mind if you’d rather just chill together tonight? We could get a pizza in, have that crap wine?” He smiled again at his own joke, but Amanda’s face sank into a sultry stare. She took the wine bottle from him and placed it on the counter.

  “No way. I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

  Half-dragging Max upstairs, tearing at his shirt, she kissed him and ran her hands through his thick dark hair. Reaching the bedroom, they flopped onto Amanda’s huge bed.

  “I’ve really missed you,” Max whispered as he stroked Amanda’s cheek. “I would have been here.
I called, but you never picked up.”

  “You’re here now.” Amanda smiled and kissed him. Then a darkness seemed to cross her eyes. She rolled over him and pinned his arms above his head. “And I intend to make it up to you.” She sank her face into his neck, her slow tender kisses turning hotter after each one. Kisses turned to nibbles, then into bites.

  “Ouch,” Max said, wincing. “That one hurt a bit. Go slow, will you. We’ve got all night.”

  “No,” Amanda replied. “I’m hungry for you.” With pure lust in her eyes, she lowered her hands and began unbuckling his jeans. Yanking them down, she then hooked her fingers under his Calvin Kleins and peeled them away from his trembling hips. “I know you’ve wanted me to do this for a while now, so…” She lowered her face onto him, taking him inside her mouth.

  Max gasped. “Oh my God, Amanda.” He clasped his hands around her head. “I don’t think it’s gonna be long…” His voice tailed off as he laid his head back.

  As he edged closer to his climax, Amanda stopped. She lifted her head up and wiped her mouth. “Not yet, you don’t.” She reached over and opened the top drawer of her bedside table, taking out a pair of silver handcuffs. She grabbed Max’s wrists and secured them to the wooden slats of her headboard.

  “Amanda, we’ve never done this before,” Max panted. “You seem…different.”

  Amanda put her lips to his ear. “Well, you get to fuck two different Amandas tonight then, don’t you, you lucky boy.” She took out a silk scarf from underneath the pillow and wrapped it around his head, tying it in a tight bow. “It’s about time we spiced things up. And I’m feeling horny tonight.” She raked her fingernails down his bare chest, leaving long red trails. “Imagine how tragic it would be, dying without ever having the wildest night of your life?”

  “Amanda, you’re scaring me a little bit.” Max’s voice quivered as he wriggled, completely prone with his hands cuffed above his head and Amanda pinning his legs down as she straddled him.