by Sally Rigby
He hadn’t intended to be quite so direct, but it was out in the open, now. ‘But I’m fine,’ he added.
‘You don’t look it. Stop the investigation straight away. They might come after you again if you don’t. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.’
‘Let’s not jump the gun. First of all, we’ve got to find out who did this to me and whether it was a random attack, or whether it’s actually related to the investigation into Donald. Before this happened, we had intended telling you that we’d found nothing to make us think his death was anything other than suicide. Even the note we believed we could justify. But if this is to do with it, then that changes everything, and it points to you being right.’
Sarah bit down on her bottom lip. ‘If you’re sure, then carry on, but promise me you’ll be careful. Both of you.’ She looked across at Birdie and back at him.
He was in too deep now not to carry on.
‘Oh, believe me, we will be. I was taken unawares on Saturday. That won’t happen again, I can assure you.’
Chapter 26
17 May
‘Thanks for lunch, Sarah. And especially the chocolate cake, that was to die for,’ Birdie said as they stood on the doorstep saying goodbye. She’d never been in such a large house before. It was beautiful, and she’d have loved to look around, but she didn’t think Seb would be happy about her asking.
‘You’re welcome. It’s nice to have someone appreciate my baking.’ Sarah smiled, and it lit up her whole face. There was a definite family resemblance between her and Seb.
‘You should take it up professionally. I’d be first in line to buy whatever you made.’
‘Maybe I will.’ Sarah turned to Seb, her face becoming serious. ‘Please be careful, I don’t want you hurt on my account. And don’t forget to keep me updated.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ He glanced at Birdie. ‘We’ll both be fine.’
They headed slowly to the car and Birdie opened the door for Seb to ease himself in.
‘We’ll go to the station so you can have a look at this CCTV footage and then I’m going to get you home because you’re looking even worse than you did this morning,’ Birdie said, once they were both strapped in and she had started the engine.
‘I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be feeling much better.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But you still had a nasty attack. How’s your head? Do you want some headache pills?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those men who couldn’t possibly take anything to help in case it made you seem weak?’
‘I’m in no mood to discuss this.’ He turned his head and stared out of the window.
That was the first time she’d heard him snap like that. Hardly surprising considering the state he was in, but it shocked her a little. He’d always given the impression of being so laid-back that nothing ruffled him.
She drove to the station and parked in the street, rather than the car park, concerned that someone might hit the BMW. It had been such a treat to drive it. The leather seats were soft and luxurious, and it was an automatic transmission, so all she had to do was sit back and stare at the road ahead. It would be a shame to go back to her old Mini.
They walked into the station through the front door.
‘Afternoon, Bill,’ she said on their way past the officer at the front desk.
He coughed and nodded at Seb. ‘Signing in book.’
‘Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot.’
‘No cameras or facial recognition?’ Seb asked, looking all around.
‘You do realise that we’re in the sticks.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Talk about you can take the man out of the Met, but you can’t take the Met out of the man.’
After signing him in, she took him to the CID office.
‘It’s empty,’ he said.
‘Only me around today. It’s Twiggy’s day off. Rambo’s on paternity leave, and Tiny and Sparkle are both in court. Different cases. Sarge might be somewhere, I’m not sure. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he lived here. He’s never far away. With no one else in it will make our work much easier, as we won’t be interrupted.’ She grabbed a chair and pulled it along so he could sit next to her at her desk. ‘I’ll show you the CCTV footage that I didn’t download to my phone.’ She pulled it up on the screen. ‘This is when you left the pub.’
‘Can you pause it so we can take a closer look,’ Seb said. ‘I want to see if there was anybody else in the vicinity.’
‘I’ve already looked and there wasn’t. Not on this camera.’
‘Did you look at any cameras further down the road, away from the direction I was heading?’
‘No, I only checked the camera which followed you. There’s one further down the street, let’s take a look.’ She went into the system and called up the particular camera she had referred to.
‘See over there, standing in the shop doorway.’ He pointed to the two shadows, who were clearly the men who’d been following him earlier.
‘I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t I think of going back rather than just looking at your walk home?’ She stared at the two men. ‘They’re together now and split later. I’m guessing so they don’t appear so noticeable to the public.’
‘Is the entrance to the bar visible from there?’ Seb asked.
‘Yes, it is. The road isn’t straight, and they can see diagonally across.’
‘So they must have known I was in there and could see when I left. Maybe they’d been following me for longer, but if that’s the case why didn’t I notice?’
‘You weren’t looking for them. I wonder if they were watching your movements from the Airbnb. They could’ve parked up and then followed you when you were on your way to meet me.’
‘How did they find me in the first place? And for how long have they been following me?’
‘Can’t you use your superpower and call up everywhere you’ve been and take a look around?’
‘It doesn’t work like that, Birdie. I can’t recall anything that didn’t actually go in through my eyes. If I could, that really would be a superpower as you called it.’
‘Damn. Well, if it is connected to Donald, then the attack was orchestrated by someone you interviewed. Clearly they didn’t do it themselves or you would have recognised them. Unless, as I said before, this is nothing to do with the case and from something you’ve been involved in when you were working for the Met.’
‘If someone wanted to either teach me a lesson or warn me about something from the past, they could’ve done it in London. Why wait for me to be in Market Harborough, especially as they’d have no idea how long I would be here? Originally I only intended being here for a couple of days, and that’s all people in London would have known. In fact, the only person who knows I’ve stayed here for longer is Jill, my neighbour.’
‘What about Rob?’
His brow furrowed. ‘He knows I’m here. But … no that’s ridiculous. No way would he set me up for a beating. He’s my friend, and we didn’t even work together on cases at the Met. It’s not from the past, I’m sure of it. We have to focus on who knows about our enquiry now.’
Birdie wracked her brain for something else for them to consider. They had to be totally sure it was linked to the suicide, or otherwise the attack would go down as a mugging.
‘Could Sarah have confided in someone what we’re doing? She might have asked a friend for advice before asking you to look into Donald’s death, and that person was implicated in some way. Oh … I’ve had an idea … What about this … Donald was having an affair with one of Sarah’s friends and when you started investigating his death, which really was suicide, this woman was worried that the affair would come out and wreck her marriage and friendship with Sarah. So she arranged for some thugs to beat you up as a warning to keep your nose out.’
‘That’s one scenario, I suppose, but nothing I’ve found has pointed to Donald having an affair. That doesn’t mean Sarah didn’t confide in anyone,
though. We didn’t discuss the need to be confidential about my work. I think we should focus on those who have been interviewed.’
‘Okay,’ she said, sighing. ‘We know that these guys were together and then split up to follow you so they weren’t so conspicuous. They met up again when you went into Church Street.’
‘Can we see them any better on the other camera?’
‘No, because they made sure to keep their heads turned away and they had hoods up.’
‘What are you doing?’ Birdie tensed. Crap. He was here after all.
‘This is Sebastian Clifford, Sarge, he’s the one who got attacked.’
‘Yeah, I can see that for myself.’ He turned to Seb. ‘Sergeant Jack Weston. That was some beating you took, shouldn’t you be home resting?’
‘It’s going to hurt wherever I am, so I might as well be here doing something useful.’
‘I understand you used to be a DI at the Met.’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘That doesn’t give you officer privileges here, it—’
‘Sarge,’ Birdie interrupted, worried about the direction the conversation could take. ‘I’ve brought Seb in to look at the CCTV footage to see if he recognises the men who attacked him, so we can link it back to Witherspoon’s death.’
‘It was a suicide. We called it and the coroner agreed,’ her boss said, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
‘But what if we were wrong?’ Birdie persisted.
‘Have you found anything to indicate that it is?’
‘This attack for starters, once we can establish a link.’
‘Leave it. The wallet was stolen, and this has the hallmark of a vicious mugging.’
‘But, Sarge—’
‘But Sarge nothing,’ he said, walking off and heading back to his office. Typical that he showed up when she didn’t want him to.
‘See what I have to put up with?’ she said, nodding in her superior officer’s direction, once he was out of the way and couldn’t hear her.
‘I also see that he has to put up with you,’ Seb said, tilting his head to one side.
‘He should listen to me because we could be dealing with a murder. But he doesn’t want that outcome as we’re understaffed and don’t have the facilities to deal with anything big. Then again, why would we? This is Market Harborough, hardly the hub of serious crime, and anything big that happens gets taken over by one of the Leicestershire CIDs as we’re all part of the same constabulary.’
‘I see.’ He exhaled a long breath and slumped in the chair.
He was flagging.
‘That’s enough for today. I’m going to take you home because you look about ready to drop.’
‘I have to admit, you’re right. I’ll go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, I’m going back to speak to Edgar, Donald’s brother.’
‘Are you going to make an appointment?’
‘Not this time. I’m going to turn up at his office in Leicester. If he was the one to arrange for me to be beaten up, I don’t want to warn him in advance. Speaking to him at his workplace will offer a level of protection. No one is going to pounce on me there.’
‘Do you want me to lend you some make-up?’
He frowned. ‘Make-up?’
‘Have you seen the state of your face? You’ll need something to tone it down.’
‘It will have faded a bit by tomorrow.’
‘I’ll drive you.’
Seb was quiet for a few seconds. ‘Okay,’ he agreed.
‘Bloody hell, you must be feeling bad to agree straight away. I’ve just got to go to the loo and then I’ll get you back to the house.’
Twiggy walked into the room and did a double take at the burly guy sitting at Birdie’s desk. Was that the Clifford bloke? Judging by the state of him it had to be, but on principle he wasn’t going to admit to knowing him. The man was no longer a copper, and he certainly wasn’t going to kowtow to him because he’d been a DI.
‘What happened to you?’ he said, marching over and standing beside him. Even sitting down, the man was almost up to his chest.
‘Beaten up on Saturday night. I’m Sebastian Clifford, you are?’
‘DC Branch.’
‘Aka, Twiggy.’ He nodded knowingly. ‘Birdie has mentioned you.’
‘Where is she?’
‘She’s gone to the ladies.’
‘What are you doing here? And how come she left you alone?’
‘I’m looking through some mugshots, to see if I can identify the men who mugged me. As to your second question, she trusts me. I’m ex-job.’
‘Birdie said that the attack was linked to the Witherspoon’s death and not a mugging.’
‘She told you that?’ Seb frowned.
‘Yep. We’re partners, and that’s what partners do. Confide in each other.’
‘What else did she tell you?’ Seb pushed his chair back from the desk and stared directly at Twiggy.
‘That Donald Witherspoon’s wife is convinced it’s not a suicide, despite all the evidence pointing otherwise.’
‘What’s your view?’
‘I was one of the officers at the scene and saw the body, the gun, and the note. There was nothing that pointed to it being anything other than suicide. And it wasn’t just us who thought so. The coroner agreed.’ Twiggy clenched his fists. He’d done a good job. He hadn’t missed anything. This murder business was nonsense. Surely, it had to be. ‘So are you just stringing this woman along to make some money out of her?’
He shouldn’t have said that. Birdie had a nose for stuff and if she was convinced then maybe there was something in it.
‘This woman happens to be my cousin and I’m not being paid. I’m doing it as a favour,’ Clifford replied, his voice cold, and his lips set in a flat line.
‘Even if what you say is true, I’m warning you … Don’t you go getting Birdie into trouble.’
Clifford gave a wry smile. ‘She can look after herself and as her partner surely you, better than anyone, would know that.’
‘You’re right,’ he acknowledged. ‘But if she gets into any trouble, you’ll have me to answer to.’
‘Noted.’
‘Just because you used to work at the Met doesn’t mean you can intimidate her into helping you. She …’ His voice fell away. He should shut up. Even he could tell he was getting out of line.
‘Do you know Birdie?’
‘What’s that meant to mean?’
‘She’s not going to let me intimidate her.’
‘You say that, but she’s still in awe of you, even if you did leave the force under a cloud.’
‘Twiggy … nothing I’ve done in the past will have any impact on Birdie. I promise.’
‘Hey, what are you doing here? I thought it was your day off.’ Birdie said as she headed over to them.
‘I popped in to check something and was talking to Mr Clifford,’ he said, taking a step away from where the man was sitting.
‘What’s in the bag you’re holding?’
He hastily put his hand behind his back, not prepared to admit that he’d come in to eat the meat pie he’d sneakily bought while in town. He needed somewhere he wouldn’t be spotted as Evie had her spies everywhere.
‘Nothing important.’
‘I’m about to take Seb back home to rest. We’ve looked at some mugshots but so far found nothing.’
‘What about the CCTV footage?’ he asked.
‘Not much to go on there. These guys had obviously cased the street in advance and made sure to keep out of the way of the cameras.’
‘Well, let me know if you want a hand. I know most of the young kids around here, especially those on drugs.’
‘They weren’t kids,’ Clifford said, shaking his head. ‘That I know for certain.’
‘The offer’s here if you want it,’ he repeated.
‘Thanks, Twig,’ Birdie said. ‘Come on, Seb, let’s go.’
Twiggy watched as she helped the chap up fr
om his seat and slipped her hand under his arm, guiding him out of the office. Surely he wasn’t that incapacitated that he needed someone of her size to help him along.
There was something about the man that he didn’t like, especially the influence he seemed to have over Birdie.
His partner.
Chapter 27
17 May
Sarah stared at her phone for ages before finally plucking up the courage to call. She half-hoped it would go to voicemail so she could leave a message. Except after four rings it was answered.
‘Hello, Auntie Charlotte, it’s me, Sarah,’ she said to Seb’s mother. Would she hang up without talking to her?
After Seb and Birdie had left, Sarah had deliberated for ages whether to tell her aunt what had happened. She hadn’t asked Seb whether his mother knew, but she was certain that he wouldn’t have told her. In the past her aunt had moaned that he didn’t keep the family informed of what he was doing, and it worried her because of him working for the police.
Sarah hadn’t spoken to her aunt since before Donald’s death, but she had to tell her about Seb. How could she not? If she was in her aunt’s situation, she’d want to know.
‘Sarah, good to hear from you. How are you?’
‘Soldiering on, as one has to.’
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t come to the funeral, but with Uncle Henry, as you would appreciate, we have to steer clear of awkward situations.’
‘Yes, I understand. You weren’t the only people who refused to attend. Thank you for sending Sebastian, though. He’s been very supportive.’
‘Is he still with you?’
‘Yes, he’s staying in Market Harborough.’
‘Jolly good. I’m glad he’s there to assist. Do you have a reason for phoning, only I’m due in a meeting shortly?’
‘Um … yes … I do, actually.’ How was she going to broach it?
‘What is it?’ her aunt’s matter-of-fact voice echoed in her ear.
She hoped Seb wouldn’t be too angry with her.
‘Sebastian won’t be happy with me telling you, but I felt duty-bound. There’s been an incident and—’