Prima Facie

by Netta Newbound

Holly got to her feet and placed a hand on his throat, searching for a pulse. She shook her head. “He’s gone.”

  An anguished cry came from her mother-in-law.

  Holly couldn’t go to comfort her. All the air seemed to be sucked from her body, and she felt physical pain in her solar plexus. He was dead. Her husband was dead. Although she knew it was coming, had done for weeks, it still managed to totally shock her. She’d never see his radiant smile or twinkling eyes again. Ever.

  She didn’t know how long she stayed in that position, with his head in her arms, but the pillow was sodden by the time she moved.

  “I’d best call the doctor,” she whispered to Val.

  Chapter 27

  Once Sally had left, they spent the rest of the afternoon going over and over the evidence to date.

  “We must be missing something.” Les leaned back in his chair.

  “Believe me, Les. If there was any way of finding him with the evidence already discovered, he’d be locked up by now.” Adam got to his feet and stretched each muscle in his six-foot-four-inch body. “We can only hope he tries something else soon and slips up somehow.”

  Les yawned and also stretched. The yawn went through the rest of them like a Mexican wave.

  Adam slammed the flat of his hand on the desk. “I’m so wild with myself for not moving faster last night. I’m the only one who’s ever seen him in action, and the bastard got away.”

  “I’m sure you moved faster than most. He had a head start on you. That’s all,” Cal said, popping a gummy dinosaur in his mouth.

  Adam pushed the chair back under the desk. “Come on. I’ll buy you all a pint, and we can call it a day.”

  They grabbed their jackets and personal items and headed to The Crown and Badger on the opposite corner. The pub was notorious for being full of coppers, so no scallies or scumbags came within a mile of the place.

  He shouted them a round of drinks and also paid for another on the quiet. He had a cola, which they all thought had something else in it, but they never got to know what as he never stayed for more than one.

  “Cheers, boss.” Cal raised his glass before taking a deep swig of lager.

  “You’re welcome, Cal. I appreciate your hard work and loyalty, although you really should’ve stayed home today.”

  “To be honest, boss, what else would I do? I don’t have a family like you.”

  “I know, but still...”

  “I’ll be in tomorrow, too, so why don’t you spend the day with your lovely wife and kiddies?”

  Adam shook his head and sighed. “I can’t take time off while we have a crazed killer on the loose.”

  “But there’s nothing to do, boss. Take the time with your family and come at it with fresh eyes on Monday.”

  “Are you sure? If anything happens, anything at all, call me.”

  Cal gave a three-fingered salute. “Scout’s honour.”

  “I’ll be off then. You’ve all got another drink in the pumps, but don’t go getting trashed and blaming me.”

  “As if we would, boss.” Les laughed, clinking his glass on Julie’s outstretched one.

  Shaking his head, Adam flicked a beer mat at them and got up to leave.

  As he walked to the car, he dialled home. Amanda answered.

  “Hey, Mand, fancy a trip to my mother’s tomorrow?”

  “Aren’t you working?”

  “Cal’s going to cover. Don’t say anything to the kids yet. I need to check Mum’s going to be home.”

  Hanging up, he dialled his mother’s number.

  She took longer to answer and seemed a little vague as though she’d been sleeping.

  “Hey, Mum, it’s me.”

  “Adam? Is that you?”

  He chuckled. “Is there anyone else who calls you Mum?”

  “Don’t be cheeky, Adam. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

  He felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t call her nearly enough.

  “Are you home tomorrow?”

  “Of course, I’m home. Where else would I be?”

  “Good, because we’re coming for a visit.”

  “All of you?”

  “All of us. Do you think you could handle us?”

  “Oh, Adam. That’ll be lovely. I’ll need to go shopping and buy something in for the children.”

  “I don’t want you to go to any trouble, so we’ll bring everything to make us all a sandwich for lunch and snacks and stuff.”

  “That won’t do. On a Sunday? I never cook a roast for myself, but I’d never live it down if I allow you to eat a sandwich for Sunday lunch.”

  Adam sighed deeply. His mother was old school and inflexible with certain traditions. “But we’re coming to see you, Mum. Not have you fuss around in the kitchen, waiting on us hand and foot.”

  Stopping on the corner, Adam waited for an old man on a bike to pass. Then he walked diagonally across the road to the station car park.

  His mother continued. “I’ll have it all prepared for when you get here. What time will you be leaving home, son?”

  “We’ll aim for 8.00am, but I’ll call you as we set off.”

  “Oooh, I’m looking forward to seeing you all. I’ll hardly sleep a wink tonight.”

  Adam chuckled. “Me too, Mum. I’ve missed you.”

  As he hung up, his phone rang immediately. His stomach dropped when he read the display. “Frances? Are you okay?”

  “He’s gone,” Frances said, in a breathy voice.

  “Oh, no. Oh, shit! I mean, I’m so sorry, Holly. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. Just tell the others please.”

  “Consider it done. And if you need to get away, our house will be empty tomorrow. I won’t set the alarm, and I’ll leave a spare key under the patio pot in the back garden.”

  “I might just take you up on that, boss.”

  “Do! I mean it. I’ve been there, remember. Shitloads of well-wishers will come out of the woodwork, and you’ll have to force yourself to smile when it’s the last thing you want to do.”

  “You’ve just described the last hour to a tee.”

  “The offer’s there. I’ll call you tomorrow, and if you need to talk, don’t hesitate.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  He got in his car and drove to the pub, parking on double yellow lines. He ran inside and found them all where he’d left them. They looked up, puzzled.

  “Hey, boss. I thought you’d gone,” Cal said. A worried expression crossed his face.

  “I had, but I’ve just received some bad news, I’m afraid. Frances’ husband, Steve, has passed away.”

  “Shoot! That was quick,” Julie said.

  Adam nodded. “Will one of you let Ginger Dave know?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do it, boss.” Cal pulled his phone from his pocket.

  “I’ve gotta go. I’m illegally parked. We’ve decided to visit my mum in Manchester tomorrow. I’ll have my phone on me if you need me for anything.”

  ***

  I watch as the detective and his workmates leave the station and head to the pub. Not one of the docile bastards notices me.

  I hang around in the cold. I even think about entering at one point, but that’s too blatant, even for me.

  After around twenty minutes, the detective leaves alone. Once outside, he calls somebody on the phone.

  I peek around the corner, but he’s oblivious of me down the side of the pub. I listen as he arranges to visit his mum. How touching.

  I keep my distance as I follow catching every word the careless prick says.

  He stops at the road and waits, turning slightly, his phone pressed firmly to his ear, and I freeze. If he turns a little more, he’ll catch me in his peripheral vision.

  But he doesn’t.

  Once a scruffy old codger passes on his bike, he crosses the road, and I hang back. When he enters the car park, I run across the road keeping on the outside of the station fence.

  I reach him. We are no more than six feet f
rom each other on either side of the fence, and a thrill passes through me as I hear him say he’ll leave a key for the house under a pot.

  I smile and scurry towards my car excited about tomorrow.

  Chapter 28

  I watch the performance from the safety of my car as the detective tries to organise his family and get them all into the vehicle.

  The little boy, the youngest child, proves to be the least trouble of them all. He and his father sit out in the car for twenty minutes while the pregnant woman and her daughters faff about, in and out.

  I duck as they drive past me at 8.45am. I’m dressed in black with a cap pulled down low and don’t think he will recognise me, but I’d rather not chance it.

  I sit and wait before making my move just in case they’ve forgotten something and double back. At 9.30am, I start the car and move it closer to the house.

  The street is deserted, but, on the off chance any of the neighbours are watching, I walk from the car and through the gate with confidence and purpose as though I am meant to be there.

  Around the back, there is a decent sized patio with a wooden table and chairs, a plain, hedge-bordered lawn and a garden shed standing in the far corner. Two green ceramic pots filled with dead bedding plant twigs, are on either side of the door. Tipping the first one up, I find nothing beneath it. A feeling of doom descends on me. What if he forgot to leave the key after all?

  I tip the second pot, and my fingers brush against something metallic. Smiling again, I pull the key out.

  The door opens into a spacious kitchen-dining area.

  I glance around the homely room taking in the remains of a chaotic breakfast for a family with young children. The sink is piled high with dishes, and an untouched cup of tea sits on the worktop. I touch the cup. The contents are still warm which gives me another thrill.

  I take my time, looking at everything. I open drawers making sure I don’t leave any sign I’ve been through them.

  Down the hall, I come to a neat and tidy lounge room. Two identical brown leather sofas and a single beige chair fill the small space. A smallish TV in the corner indicates the detective and his pretty wife are not ruled by having the biggest and the best of everything. I’m impressed.

  I peruse the bookshelf that is light on actual literature unless you count the shelf of children’s books, a few cookery books and an encyclopaedia.

  The other shelves are filled with DVDs, mostly children’s, and the odd boxed set. I presume the Inspector Morse, Prime Suspect, and A Touch of Frost belong to the resident detective. The Cold Feet, Doctor Quinn and several romances clearly belong to the woman of the house.

  But I’m bored. I don’t see anything that could give me any real insight into what goes on in the detective’s mind.

  I head up the staircase and look in each of the four bedrooms. I can tell by the décor which room belongs to which child, and a vulgar amount of possessions fill each of them.

  The parents’ room is sparse in comparison, and immaculate. A king-sized bed takes up the bulk of the space, draped in a luxurious, white bedspread. The room is decorated in mainly beige tones with a splash of red in the light shades, wall art and cushions. Dark wooden bedside cabinets and matching drawer units are dotted around the room and a fitted wardrobe takes up the entire wall opposite the bed.

  I sit down and open the top drawer of the bedside cabinet closest to the door. Definitely not the detective’s side unless he is into lacy lingerie. The contents of the bottom drawer makes me chuckle. I pull out the pink dildo and bring it to my nose, inhaling deeply, but all I can smell is rubber. I stand it on top of the cabinet and close the drawer.

  The top drawer on the other side of the bed holds socks and white cotton trunks. Moving them to one side, I find a man’s leather strapped watch, a couple of batteries and some loose change. As I tidy the drawer up, I feel something bulky in a pair of socks. Unfolding them, a bottle of sleeping pills fall out. They have Adam John Stanley printed on the label. I raise my eyebrows. So the detective struggles sleeping. Interesting. I slip the bottle into my pocket.

  The bottom drawer has a selection of neckties and cufflinks. Nothing seedy. No stroke magazines, or anything to tell me more about the man who’s every waking moment over the past week have been, no doubt, filled with thoughts of finding me.

  I lie on his side of the bed, snuggling my head down into the pillow. Although not obviously dirty, my boots leave black marks on the bedspread, a touch I am thrilled with although it was entirely accidental.

  After a few minutes, I venture into the only bathroom in the house.

  This is the one room that hasn’t been recently redecorated. An old, white-painted, wooden wall cupboard is above the sink, and inside several jars of lotions and potions fill the top shelf.

  I find nothing of interest, but I have business to do in this room. I shove the door closed, out of habit more than anything, and undo the button of my trousers.

  ***

  As soon as the word was out, the phone didn’t stop ringing. Several more local well-wishers brought food. There was enough casserole and lasagne in the fridge to feed the street. However, neither Holly nor Val could face a bite.

  Val had been a rock. Once the initial shock had worn off, she rallied around and organised everything from bagging up the excess medication for the nurses to contacting the hospital to collect the bed and equipment loaned from them.

  They had made copious amounts of tea. Every time someone knocked on the door, one of them filled the kettle and it started all over again.

  Holly felt like a spare part. She couldn’t face helping with the practical jobs and longed instead to take Adam up on his offer to hole herself up in his house for the day, but she couldn’t leave Val. Plus, the tide of people wouldn’t just go away. If they didn’t deal with them now, they would keep coming and phoning until they did.

  “Fancy another cuppa, lovey?” Val asked, standing in the doorway of the lounge.

  “Is it possible to drown yourself in tea?”

  Val smiled. “Feels a bit like that, doesn’t it? I’m looking for any excuse to keep myself busy.”

  “Come and sit down.” Holly patted the seat beside her. “Take five minutes before the next round of visitors.”

  Val threw the tea towel she was holding onto the coffee table and slumped down beside her. “I’m surprised how many friends he had,” she said.

  “Had is the correct tense and not because he’s died. Most of the people who showed up today haven’t been near him since his accident. It annoys me when they act all heartbroken and tearful when they’ve not seen him for more than six years.”

  “It’s always the way, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t know how you keep it up, to be honest. I’d have shut the curtains and taken the phone off the hook hours ago.”

  “Well, if that’s what you want. I don’t want to take over, lovey. This is your house after all.”

  “No, don’t be daft. Unless you want to hide from the world too. We could curl up on the sofa together and watch chick flicks.”

  “What the heck’s a chick flick?”

  Holly smiled. “Never mind. I was joking.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Holly rolled her eyes and groaned. “I’ll put the kettle on while you get the door.”

  “You’re a good girl. Steve won the jackpot when he married you.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Mrs Eff.”

  They hugged as the doorbell chimed again.

  Chapter 29

  They arrived in Manchester just before 1.00pm. Jacob had fallen asleep just ten minutes before and was grouchy when Adam took him out of the car seat.

  “Wow! Nice car.”

  Startled, he turned quickly to see his lovely old mum standing behind him. “Hello, you.” He bent and kissed her on the lips, noticing how well she looked.

  The blue hair had gone, replaced by perfectly styled, dark grey curls. She even wore lipstick, some of which now co
ated his lips. He pressed them together, wanting to wipe the greasy film off, but Jacob lay half-asleep in his arms.

  Amanda came around the car with Emma and Mary, and they were off, squealing and talking ten to the dozen.

  Adam left them all to it, and carried Jacob inside. He got prickles over his entire body as he smelled the familiar scent of home.

  After lying Jacob down on the sofa, he followed his nose through to the kitchen where he spied a large roast beef resting underneath a tea towel. His stomach growled. He loved his mother’s roast dinners. Picking at the edge of the beef, he pulled a piece away and snaffled it into his mouth.

  “Caught you,” his mum said, suddenly behind him once again.

  He laughed, covering his mouth while he chewed. “This is divine.”

  “Good. There’s plenty. I hope the kids are good eaters.”

  “You’re looking well, Mum.” He put his arm around her shoulders and they headed back through to the lounge.

  “Thanks, son. I thought I’d make an effort. I can’t remember the last time I had anyone around for dinner.”

  Jacob, now playing with his cars on the carpet by the fireplace, smiled as they entered. “Hi, Gammar,” he said.

  Amanda and Emma, sitting together on the sofa, burst out laughing at him.

  Jacob rarely spoke. He could speak, when it suited him, but mostly he chose not to. Hearing him call Adam’s mum Gammar had them all cracking up.

  “I don’t understand,” the old woman said.

  Adam rubbed her shoulder. “He just said, Hi Gammar, to you.”

  “To me? He called me Grandma?”

  Adam nodded.

  She walked over to Jacob and kissed him on the head. “Hi, sweet boy.” Then she perched on the arm of the chair.

  Adam sat beside Amanda. “Where’s Mary?”

  “She’s gone up to the bathroom. She’ll be down in a minute,” Amanda said.

  “That reminds me, Mum. Can I show Mary some of our old photos after lunch? She’s doing a family tree at school.”

  She put her hand to her chest dramatically. “If I can remember where I put them.”