Sleepwalk

by Ros Seddon

  ‘Oh wonderful. That’s just what I need; an unreliable key witness. Is Coles in yet?’

  ‘He’s on his way in now Sir.’

  ‘Have him come and see me. I want to talk to him before I question the girl.’

  ‘Sir.’ The constable nodded and left the room.

  DI Carter was pacing back and forth across the floor in front of his desk. He didn’t like to be kept waiting and he didn’t like to keep people waiting either; and Coles was making him do both. His mind drifted from the Breen case to the Harding case and back. He wondered how many times he would have to cross the office floor before the soles of his shiny black station issue steel capped shoes began to wear away; how many paces before he wore out the East Barton constabulary imitation terracotta vinyl floor tiles. The door opened then and a uniformed officer appeared at the corner of his eye but Carter didn’t look up; just carried on pacing back and forth.

  ‘Sir’

  ‘Coles’

  ‘Sorry Sir; had to get changed; got a bit messy down at the river Sir.’

  ‘Coles?’

  ‘Yes Sir?’

  ‘I don’t like to be kept waiting.’

  ‘No Sir. Sorry Sir.’

  ‘What did you find today Coles?’

  ‘Well Sir, we’re still waiting for the test results to come back from the lab on the tyre tracks but; word has it we’re looking for a two door hatch back, possibly an Escort or a Fiesta.’

  ‘Go on……..’

  ‘Well Sir, it looks as though the driver may have lost control of the vehicle momentarily. We think the colonel was standing on the river path when the driver probably misjudged the corner and the vehicle careered from the road into the clearing at the rate of approximately 20mph heading for the river. The driver must have braked at the last minute but it was too late and hit the old man killing him outright and knocking him back down the river bank. The car, we think, then reversed back under the cover of the bridge and it’s possible it stayed there for some time. Then, when it left the wasteland, it left slowly. The driver must have had time to think and calm down Sir.’

  ‘Coles?’

  ‘Yes Sir?’

  ‘If you don’t make it as a DC maybe you could become a PI?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Until then Coles, I’ll do the thinking; you bring me the facts.’

  ‘Yes Sir.’

  ‘Get DC Peters to bring the girl up when she’s ready. That’ll be all.’

  ‘Yes Sir.’

  Carter waited for a few more minutes and then he made his way along the corridor to the interview rooms. The light was on in room two and he went into the observation hall next door and looked through the one way glass. He liked to get a feel for his witness before he interviewed them. The girl was a mess. Her long fair hair was tangled and matted hanging in dreadlocks around her face. She was leaning back in the chair in a tom-boy fashion with one leg raised across the other and was tapping the table with her fingertips impatiently. After a few minutes she stood up and walked over to the window and parted the venetian blinds with her fingers, then realising the glass was reinforced and opaque and she couldn’t break through it or even see through it she made her way back to the chair, resumed her unladylike position and continued to tap her fingers annoyingly against the table top. Carter had seen enough and he left the obs stand and went to join her. He set the tape to record and sat down opposite her.

  ‘DI Carter.’ He spoke into the tape. ‘Interview with Jonquil Forbes, Sunday June 23rd 7.45pm. Present are DI Carter, DC Peters and Jonquil Forbes. Miss Forbes has been offered the right to counsel and for her legal representative to be present but has declined the offer.’ He looked at the girl who had stopped her finger tapping and had leaned back again and swapped her legs one over the other.

  ‘Miss Forbes. Can you tell us where you were on the evening of Saturday 15th June?’

  The girl shrugged her shoulders and took a chewing gum from her pocket.

  ‘For the benefit of the tape Miss Forbes has just shrugged her shoulders.’ She giggled as he said this and then she saw his look of disapproval.

  ‘Dunno…….. around.’

  ‘Around where Miss Forbes?’

  ‘Here and there.’ It was going to be a long session……………

  ‘Miss Forbes………. Jonquil; do you mind if I call you that?’ She shrugged again.

  ‘Jonquil, did you know Colonel Jack Harding?’

  Jonquil nodded.

  ‘And you know that the Colonel was killed, last Saturday night?’

  ‘Word gets around.’

  ‘Indeed it does Jonquil. And word has got around about you; about the fact that you saw it happen. In your words Jonquil, ‘It’s the Colonel. He’s dead. I know who did it.’ So; come on Jonquil……… Who did it…… and how?’

  The girl shuffled uncomfortably in the chair and hesitated before she spoke.

  ‘I…… couldn’t be sure. Sometimes I see things. People don’t know I’m there.’

  ‘What did you see Jonquil?’

  ‘I……. can’t remember ...…. can I go now?’

  ‘Tell us what happened and then you can go.’

  The girl went quiet then and turned away. Carter did his count to ten and then count to ten again and if another ten isn’t appropriate rip off their head and spit down their neck routine. He got to eight on the second count before she finally spoke. Her face was quite pale now and her voice, soft.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Slim……… What have you done with him?’

  ‘Mr Williams has been helping us with our enquiries. Now, Jonquil…… are you going to tell us what you saw that night?’

  ‘It wasn’t him……. Slim. You’re wrong if you think that. If I were a flower tangled in thorns he would release me; or a butterfly caught in a web. He would tear down the web and set me free. His heart is pure. Slim is like a rainbow; he watches over us. When the Colonel is hungry he brings him bread. He looks out for him…… looks out for us all. He is the protector. You have to let him go.’

  ‘I get the picture.’ Jesus bloody Christ has been reincarnated and is living under a bridge in bloody East Barton thought Carter……. Praise the Lord. But she has the hots for him……I can use this. ‘Problem is Jonquil, he was caught red-handed with the Colonels medal and that is a motive for murder.’

  ‘No……… No! Slim would never…………’

  ‘Well now Jonquil. Unless you have any information to the contrary, I think we have our man. Thank you for your time. Interview terminated at 8.02pm. Thank you Miss Forbes, you can go.’

  ‘No! Wait!......... please?’

  DI Carter sat down and looked into her green eyes.

  ‘It……… It wasn’t Slim. She…… she came that night for the Colonel. It……. It must have been his turn.’

  ‘She? It was a woman? Jonquil I’m not quite sure I understand.’

  Jonquil leaned toward him over the table and her voice became a whisper. ‘The angel of death…….. in her black chariot.’

  ‘Right. Oh great so we’re looking for bloody Bodicea.’ Carter stood up now and pushed his chair hard against the table which made her jump. He was rapidly losing his patience with this girl who was obviously on drugs or something. Her statement would never stand up in court. He turned back and looked at her frightened pale face.

  ‘Ok. Jonquil. This is DC Peters. Now I want you to describe your ‘Angel of Death’ to her as best you can ok? Maybe draw a little picture, eh?’ He left the room then, walked down the corridor to his office and thumped the wall hard; then he opened his desk drawer and took out a small hip flask of something a little stronger than the vending machine had to offer.

  David was becoming spoilt having Felicity stay with him and was secretly not looking forward to her moving back to her cottage. It wasn’t a loneliness thing; he knew that. Of course they had been sleeping together these last few nights which made it even more difficult
……and they hadn’t had much sleep; although she always woke bright and early and went to the spare room to ensure Oliver should not wake up and find them together. It wasn’t a selfishness thing either, even though he could see the washing line in the back garden full of his and Ollie’s bright clean clothes whipping back and forth in the sprightly breeze as he lifted his son from the car tonight and could smell the unmistakable aroma of steak and onions wafting toward him from the kitchen window. No; it was definitely a falling thing. David had fallen for Felicity. He didn’t care anymore what Ellie thought, or what she said to him. He didn’t care what his mother thought either about his new ‘unfortunate’ girlfriend which seemed to be her favourite term for her. Well, perhaps that wasn’t strictly true. He did care about his mother. He cared about both his parents. To be fair to his mother, she had only seen her once and Felicity had been in shock at the time so hadn’t really known much about it. It was time that he introduced her properly. David helped her to dish up the dinner as Ollie tore up and down the hall on his little red trike and she told him that Ellie had phoned.

  ‘What did she want?’

  ‘I don’t know. She wouldn’t say. She said she’ll phone later. I’m sorry David; perhaps I shouldn’t have answered your phone.’

  ‘Of course you should babe. You’re staying here and our home is your home, I’ve told you that.’ He began to cut Ollie’s meat into tiny chunks, ‘I’ve had three messages from her on my answering machine today which I’ve ignored; and Ellie doesn’t like to be ignored. I have asked her not to bother me when I’m at work so, whatever it is she wants she can wait.’

  ‘I kind of got the impression she wasn’t happy that I was here in your house, answering your telephone.’

  ‘Well Flick, we have our own lives now. I don’t tell her who she can have in her house and I won’t have her tell me who I can have in mine. So, come on, let’s forget about her and sit down together and enjoy this wonderful meal you’ve cooked. Ollie? Come on mate. Come and see what Vic’s made for us!’

  They talked briefly about the progress being made on the cottage and Felicity told him what Bob Croft had said about her being able to move back in quite soon and then she saw dismay in those deep blue eyes and quickly changed the subject. Nothing more was said about the cottage that evening and later when Ellie phoned, David went out into the hall to talk to her and Felicity sat down with Ollie and read to him. She hadn’t managed to finish Mr Bump before David came into the room, a look of despair in his eyes and his brow furrowed.

  ‘You Ok?’ asked Felicity.

  ‘Yes. They’re going away on holiday for two weeks next weekend. She wants to move the ……. er fortnightly arrangement from Sunday to the Saturday morning.’

  ‘And is that awkward for you?’

  ‘No. No not at all. It’s um…… It’s when they get back that the problems arise. Their flight gets in two weeks later on the Sunday evening at six-thirty and a certain person wants to meet at seven/seven-thirty bearing gifts from abroad. I said No. I’m not having any unsettling visits before bedtime.’

  Felicity turned back to the Mr Men series layed out across David’s brown and cream retro rug.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. I mean …….. arrangements could be left to the next day or something surely?’

  ‘No-the next day is school and work and bearing in mind I don’t get home to collect a certain person until gone five, I’ve said it’ll have to wait until the following weekend, but I don’t think I’ve heard the last of it.’

  ‘Vic! Thomas Vic’ Oliver deposited the book she had bought him in her lap with a huge look of glee having just unearthed it from the pile of toys and books on the floor. Felicity thought David was being a little harsh on Ellie. Considering she won’t have seen her son for two weeks while she’s away and then making her wait a further week to see him; but she said nothing. It wasn’t her place to comment.

  ‘Ok then my little ray of sunshine, Thomas it is then; and then bed I think, don’t you Daddy?’

  ‘Bed………. Yes definitely. Bed’

  As the Silver Audi pulled up on the drive at the Wilson’s residence Felicity felt the knot in her tummy tightening. David had pre-warned her about his mothers interrogative skills so when Mrs Wilson began firing questions at her she was ready for them but it didn’t make the knot go away.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you dear. David’s told me all about you and what an unfortunate time you’ve been having, I’m so sorry. How is your little house coming along dear?’

  ‘Well there’s still a lot of work to do yet but, Yes…… every time I see it there’s some kind of improvement. We’re hoping to get some painting done this weekend.’

  ‘Good. Well David there is an awful lot of paint in the utility left over from our last bout of decorating. You’re quite welcome to it Felicity dear if it will be of any use to you.’

  ‘Oh Thanks Mum. I’ll go and check it out.’ He smiled at Felicity, ‘Back in five.’

  No please don’t leave me with her………

  ‘Now then Felicity would you like a cup of tea dear?’

  ‘Thank you. Tea would be nice. Can I help?’

  ‘No but you come along to the kitchen with me and tell me all about yourself.’

  Oh ……. wonderful.

  ‘David’s Father has had to pop out to his office but he should be along shortly. We’ve both been looking forward to meeting you.’

  ‘Vic! Vic! Come ‘ere Vic’. Saved by the bell. Ollie took her hand and led her through a wide hall to the biggest lounge Felicity had ever seen.

  ‘This my horse!’

  ‘Wow Ollie. Lucky you. Can you ride him?’ In the nearest corner of the lounge was the most beautifully maintained antique wooden rocking horse Felicity had ever seen. He was black with a thick white flaxen mane and tail and wore a real leather dark cherry saddle and bridle.

  ‘Vic help……’

  She lifted him into the saddle and kept one hand close to his back as if to catch him if he fell. But Oliver was obviously an experienced rider. Once he was in the saddle there was no stopping him and he rocked the wooden creature back and forth furiously.

  ‘You get on well the two of you.’ David’s mother was behind her carrying a tray with tea in china cups and a plate of biscuits.

  ‘Yes; yes we do. I like children.’

  ‘I was talking about David.’

  ‘Oh! Sorry. Well, yes. We get on well too.’

  ‘Such an unfortunate business though; with your little house. Do you really have no idea who could have done it?’

  ‘Mrs Wilson; I honestly have no idea. I have never had any problems with anyone….. I mean, my life was so uncomplicated before……..’

  ‘Before you met David? Is David a complication to you then?’

  ‘No! No; not at all. You misunderstand what………’

  ‘I’ve found loads of paint Flick. Lots of nice neutral shades. You sure it’s ok Mum?’

  ‘Of course David. We should have thrown it out long ago. You’re more than welcome Felicity, really. Now come and sit down and have some tea.’

  Felicity wanted to finish her sentence, wanted his mother to know how bewildered by all this she actually was, but instead she smiled and said thank you. She had never been the sort of person to try and impress people. People should take you at face value and if they didn’t like your face then what could you do? Did Mrs Wilson not like her face then? Felicity couldn’t be sure; but she wasn’t going to change her face for anyone. She was who she was. C’est la vie.

  Abi had been doing some research. It was nothing to do with her college course. It was nothing to do with her job. It was to do with Ellie and her sleep disorder. She had been to the library and had spent several hours studying. She hadn’t learnt very much about Ellie’s condition, other than what she already knew, but she had read some whacky stories. They were mostly from America. There was an incident where a young girl approaching puberty had left her
home in the middle of the night wearing just her panties and walked to a nearby power station where she’d gained entry by climbing over an eight foot high spiked gate and then continued her adventure by climbing to the top of a forty-two foot ladder where she had promptly fallen asleep on a small platform. Another tale was of a boy in Canada who went rock climbing in the middle of the night in his pyjamas and was tracked down and found the following morning still fast asleep on a small precipice of rock measuring less than two feet deep; but the precipice was on a sheer rock face over seventy feet from the ground. The stories were bizarre. One in particular caught Abi’s attention. It was about a man who went to trial for murdering his mother and had escaped prosecution because at the time the murder was committed he was asleep and therefore could not be held responsible.

  When she got home Abi poured herself a coffee and tried to think about all the times she had found Ellie missing at night. She went over and over little details in her mind; the blood stained clothes, the keys being moved, the night she had followed her through town and how she had easily brought that man to his knees without a second thought, finding the car with its engine running……. and she pictured Ellie as she had seen her in her trance-like state looking straight through her like she wasn’t even there. She visualised her jumping off the bandstand and imagined her just letting herself fall from the bedroom window in Rose Lane. Then she thought about the little things Ellie had told her about her dreams; about lights flashing by her, about waking up in the car by the river and about there being a fire………….. Abi sat down to re-read the article about David’s new girlfriend again but her attention was drawn to another headline….

  Hit & Run Driver strikes again. Colonel Arthur Jack Harding of no fixed abode was driven over the edge on Saturday night, literally. His body was discovered early on Sunday morning by a local woman walking her dog on the river bank behind Sainsbury’s supermarket. Police believe the person responsible lost control of their vehicle on the bend and was going too fast to stop in time. Colonel Harding is the second such victim in the last five weeks after War Veteran Daniel (Gus) Glover was killed by a speeding car in Western Drive whilst on his way home from a night out at his local club………… Abi flicked through the next few pages and read the article about the fire in Knapp once more. Both incidents occurred on Saturday 15th June. Last weekend. The night the car was damaged. The night Ellie had slept on the sofa. The night Ellie had dreamed about waking up in the car by the river…………………