One to Watch

by Rachel Amphlett

  Kay followed Barnes across the road and through a narrow lych-gate, and tried to ignore the moss-covered gravestones that littered the long grass either side of the path.

  Once, she had enjoyed exploring graveyards, seeking out the oldest dates, the most interesting histories, despite her lack of faith.

  All that was in the past, and she couldn’t imagine ever returning to such a place by choice.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of other vehicles approaching the church, and saw the elongated sleek black outline of a hearse, followed by a dark-coloured courtesy vehicle.

  Matthew Whittaker climbed from the back seat a few moments after it drew to a standstill, and held open the door. Diane emerged, her face pale, eyes hidden behind sunglasses despite the overcast sky.

  Neither of them noticed Kay and Barnes under the shaded canopy of trees.

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘No, wait.’

  Kay put her hand on his arm and frowned as Matthew slammed the car door shut and Diane’s voice carried on the breeze.

  Kay couldn’t hear what was being said, but the woman’s tone was laced with acid as she stood on the pavement and berated her husband.

  The undertaker and his assistants kept a respectful distance, until Matthew held up his hands to Diane, managed to pacify her, and then nodded to them.

  He led Diane across the car park towards the church door, and Kay watched with interest as Diane shrugged off her husband’s arm from her shoulders and stormed through the open door ahead of him.

  ‘Okay, let’s go.’

  ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘No idea. Listen, I’m going to try to grab a seat at the back. See if you can find somewhere to sit halfway down.’

  ‘You want to make a run for it afterwards?’

  Her lips thinned. ‘As much as I would like to, no. I want to be able to watch everybody from there, and not make it obvious by twisting around in my seat all the time.’

  ‘Okay.’

  They hurried up the path, and Kay waited a moment upon entering the cool building to allow her eyesight to adjust to the gloom, and then made her way over to the middle pew in the back row. It was empty, save for her, and the next four pews were empty as well. Most of the congregation had bunched together towards the altar end of the church, and she ran her gaze over the gathering of people.

  Some girls that looked to be the same age as Sophie took up two pews on the left hand side, and appeared to have been allowed out of school early to attend, evidenced by their school uniforms. Eva Shepparton was amongst them, and her eyes opened wide when she saw Barnes and Piper.

  Barnes kept walking until he reached a half-full pew on the right-hand side, which placed him two thirds of the way back from the busier middle section and able to hear what was being said amongst the people gathered there.

  She couldn’t see Gavin or Carys, and presumed they were spread somewhere within the building, also watching the congregation.

  She settled into her seat and peered over the heads in front of her to the front row, where Matthew and Diane sat, their heads bowed. Across from them, on the right-hand side, were the Hamiltons. Blake appeared to be lost in thought, staring up at the stained glass window behind the altar. Courtney’s attention was directed at her son, and the pair appeared to be talking in hushed tones.

  A door opened behind Kay, and she glanced over her shoulder as Duncan Saddleworth emerged from the vestry, and crossed to the main door to the church as the funeral director led his colleagues who carried Sophie’s coffin.

  The two men conferred for a moment, last minute instructions were issued, and then Duncan led the short procession down the aisle towards the altar.

  Sniffing and soft sobs trailed in Sophie’s wake, and Kay dug her fingernails into her palms, determined to steel herself against the emotions of the next few hours.

  She knew she would be emotionally and physically drained by the time the day finished, and tuned out the dulcet tones of the pastor as he began to guide the congregation through the ceremony.

  She stood when the people in the pews ahead of her raised themselves from their pew, mimed singing words to hymns she vaguely recognised from school, and checked her watch during the eulogy.

  Her head snapped up as Duncan introduced Matthew Whittaker.

  Sophie’s father walked towards the pulpit as if he wished time could slow down, and Kay began to take deep breaths.

  She fully understood the pain he was in; it was in the way his shoulders sagged, how his hands gripped his notes before he placed them on the wooden frame that surrounded him, and how he took a deep breath before leaning down to the small microphone.

  Kay blinked and tried to fight down the urge to join in with the wailing that began from the front row and travelled through the congregation as the gathered people lost their resolve at a broken-hearted father’s words.

  She sniffed, and then turned at the sound of the door to the church being edged open.

  ‘Crap,’ she muttered under her breath.

  On the threshold, his eyes wide, stood Peter Evans.

  Tears streaked down his face, and he wore a cheap suit that hung off his skinny frame, accentuating his hollow cheekbones.

  Kay launched herself out of the pew and crossed the aisle.

  It took him a few seconds to notice her, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, she grabbed his arm and shoved him, hard.

  ‘Outside. Now.’

  Forty

  ‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

  Evans grimaced. ‘I gave it up. Sophie didn’t like it.’ He tapped the end of the cigarette, but didn’t take another drag. ‘Why haven’t you found out who killed her?’

  ‘We’re doing our best, Peter. It’s a complicated case.’

  He snorted. ‘Too many suspects to choose from?’

  Kay narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Care to elaborate?’

  ‘Oh, come on – she fooled them all, didn’t she? The Hamiltons, and her own family. None of them had a clue about me.’ He raised the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply before blowing a smoke ring to one side. ‘So, you have to ask yourself – which one of them was more pissed off about it, and who else wanted to kill her?’

  Kay folded her arms across her chest. ‘And I suppose you have a theory about which one of them is the murderer.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter if I have a theory, Detective. The question is – do you?’ He dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and squashed it under his foot.

  ‘I could fine you for that.’

  ‘Yeah, but you won’t. Mitigating circumstances.’

  ‘What?’

  In response, he jutted his chin towards the church behind her.

  The double doors had been opened wide, and the sound of the piped music from the church organ filtered through the opening, moments before Duncan appeared, his attention taken by the funeral director who began to lead the procession back to the hearse.

  Kay turned back to Peter. ‘All right, go. Don’t turn up at the burial though, okay?’

  His bottom lip quivered.

  ‘Peter, please. Visit her grave tomorrow, when it’s quieter.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He turned and hurried away across the graveyard, weaving between the ancient stones, and then left through the lych-gate.

  Kay made sure he kept walking down the lane where she assumed he’d parked his van, and then wandered back to the church and stood at a respectful distance as the congregation filed past.

  Barnes joined her.

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Peter Evans turned up.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Halfway through the last hymn. I managed to get him out the door before anyone saw him.’

  Barnes snorted. ‘Yeah, that wouldn’t have gone down well. What did he have to say for himself?’

  ‘He suggested there might be a number of people responsible for Sophie’s death.’

  ‘Not
a great help.’ Barnes nudged her arm and pointed. ‘We need to make a move. Everyone else is heading off.’

  They hurried back to the car, and Kay let Barnes take the keys from her.

  Lost in thought, she clipped her seatbelt into place as he manoeuvred the vehicle out into the lane and began to follow the funeral procession towards the cemetery south of the town.

  Peter’s words echoed in her mind.

  Both Blake and Josh Hamilton had been cleared of any wrongdoing – for the moment. Unless new evidence came to light, it was unlikely that charges could be brought against either of them.

  Kay rubbed at her right eye as she considered the other options.

  Courtney Hamilton had made it clear that she hadn’t agreed with Josh marrying Sophie, but how far would she be prepared to go to stop an engagement going ahead? Was she desperate enough to kill?

  As for Matthew and Diane Whittaker, the pair had seemed distraught – in fact, Kay wouldn’t have been surprised if Diane had been prescribed some sort of tranquilliser. The woman certainly seemed distant when Kay had spoken to her since the night of Sophie’s murder.

  ‘We’re here.’

  Barnes’s voice jolted her from her thoughts, and she resolved to go back over the Hamiltons and Whittakers’ witness statements in the morning and start again.

  Maybe Peter was right.

  Maybe they had missed something.

  Forty-One

  As the group dispersed back to their desks following the afternoon briefing, Carys beckoned to Kay and then called out to Sharp as he headed back to his office.

  ‘Guv? Could I have a word?’

  Sharp peered over her head, and then gestured towards his office. ‘It’s bedlam out here. Sit down, and tell me what’s going on.’

  He shut the door behind them, muting the hum of noise from the incident room.

  Carys waited until they’d all sat. ‘I got a call via the hotline. A man phoned and said he couldn’t speak for long as he was at work, but said that he went to university at Oxford and recognised Duncan Saddleworth on the news footage of the church service on the lunchtime news.’

  ‘What did he have to say about him?’

  ‘He was very cagey. Said he didn’t want to speak over the phone. I’ve offered to drive over to his house at Tonbridge in the morning. All he told me was that he had some information about Duncan Saddleworth that might prove useful.’

  Sharp sighed and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. ‘Are you sure he’s not wasting your time?’

  Carys shook her head. ‘He sounded genuine. A bit afraid, too, to be honest.’

  ‘All right. Take Hunter with you and see what he’s got to say for himself – what’s his name?’

  ‘Felix Ashgrove. Lives in Tonbridge.’

  ‘Okay. God knows we could use all the help we can get at the moment. Let’s hope Mr Ashgrove can shed some light on what the bloody hell has been going on around here.’

  ‘Guv.’

  As Kay moved towards the door, she let Carys go out ahead of her, then turned to Sharp.

  ‘Guv? Could I have a word in private?’

  His brow creased. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Not here.’ She forced a thin smile. ‘Meet you outside in ten minutes?’

  ‘What’s going on, Hunter?’

  ‘You’ll find out.’

  * * *

  Kay glanced up as Sharp appeared at the back door to the police station and, seeing her leaning next to her car, wandered over to join her.

  ‘What’s this all about?’

  Kay took a shuddering breath.

  On the drive into work that morning, she had rehearsed the conversation over and over in her mind, choosing her words carefully and trying not to let anger cloud her thoughts. Now, faced with sharing her findings, fear writhed its way through her veins.

  She was taking a gamble, and there would be no turning back.

  She reached into her pocket and withdrew her mobile phone, opened the photo album, and held it up to Sharp.

  He blinked before taking the phone from her and cupped his hand around the screen, sheltering it from the bright sunlight. He frowned. ‘This looks like a listening device with a tiny camera attached.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘In the ceiling above my living room.’

  His head snapped up, his eyes locking with hers. ‘What?’

  ‘There’s another one in my kitchen, one in my bedroom, and one in my office.’

  ‘Who put them there?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Any idea why they’re there?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Does Adam know?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You’ve left them there?’

  ‘I was too scared to move them, guv. I don’t know who’s put them there, and I don’t know what they’ll do to me or, worse, to Adam if I remove them.’

  He handed the phone back to her and exhaled as he leaned back against her car beside her, his gaze roaming the straggly tree line beyond their position.

  She pushed her phone into her pocket. ‘I need your help. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Any idea how long they’ve been there?’

  ‘Since the burglary. I think that’s what it was – a smokescreen they used to plant the microphones.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘There were a few things like the television that were smashed that had to be replaced. I had some jewellery that went missing, but nothing of great value. Most of it was left to me by my grandmother – it hadn’t been valued at much. Whoever did this made sure they only did enough damage to make it look like a genuine burglary.’ She shifted to face Sharp, although his eyes remained fixed on the horizon. ‘It explains why I thought Carys was the one who told everyone about my miscarriage. When she stayed behind to clear up after the burglary, she and I spoke about it briefly – I keep the baby clothes and things in our home office. It was going to be the nursery…’

  She wiped at her eyes and fell silent.

  ‘What else?’

  ‘I was chatting to Barnes on my phone after we’d been to the Hamiltons’. He gave me an update about some information we had about Hamilton so I asked him to go in first thing and get his notes entered onto the database before the morning briefing.’

  ‘You don’t suspect Barnes?’

  She shook her head. ‘Definitely not. Not his style, for a start and if he didn’t like something I did, he’d tell me to my face.’

  ‘True. What made you suspect someone’s been spying on you?’

  ‘That business with the media finding out we were looking into Blake Hamilton’s finances. Barnes and I have worked together for ages. He’d never gossip, let alone speak to Larch. If Barnes ever had a problem with me or anyone else, he’d talk to you. I couldn’t work it out, especially as Barnes was blamed as much as me for what happened. Same with Carys. She’s never gossiped about anything the entire time she’s been with us. There had to be another reason.’

  ‘But listening devices? That’s a leap in thinking.’

  She shrugged. ‘I was up late watching a spy film. It crossed my mind.’

  Sharp blinked and turned to her. ‘Why trust me?’

  ‘I didn’t know who else to trust.’

  He snorted. ‘Last choice, was I?’

  ‘Okay, and you’ve got an army background. I figured if anyone could corroborate what these things were, it’d be you.’

  ‘It was a long time ago.’

  ‘And you’ve never told anyone what you used to do in the army, have you?’

  His lips thinned and he fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowed. Eventually he straightened and turned to face her. ‘Anything else you want to tell me?’

  She swallowed. ‘I think Gavin was beaten up because of me back in the spring.’

  He raised an eyebrow.

  Kay sighed. ‘I stayed late and used his computer to check something on HOLMES2
about the Demiri investigation. The same night, Gavin is beaten up and his attackers are never caught.’ She rubbed at her right eye. ‘I can’t help but think that wasn’t coincidence. There’s information missing from the database, too. All to do with the case that fell apart. Someone’s been covering their tracks and making sure I don’t ruin whatever it is they’ve got planned.’

  He straightened his jacket and pushed himself away from the car. ‘All right. Don’t tell anyone else. Leave this with me.’

  Kay watched him stroll back towards the police station and bit her lip.

  Had she made the right choice?

  * * *

  That night, Kay stepped from the shower in the en suite, swiped her towel from the rail next to the sink and scrubbed at her skin until it was red.

  Beyond the closed door, she could hear Adam pacing the bedroom as he stripped down to his boxer shorts, threw his clothes in the laundry basket and switched on his bedside light.

  As she entered the bedroom, she slipped under the duvet and switched off her light after making sure her alarm was set for the morning.

  Adam rolled over and nuzzled her neck, before she felt him push up against her.

  She rolled over, a smile forming, and then froze.

  Her eyes locked onto the light fitting above the bed.

  Were they watching?

  She placed a hand on his chest. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’

  His brow creased. ‘Everything alright?’

  ‘I don’t feel well, that’s all. There’s something doing the rounds at work.’

  He pulled her into his arms. ‘That’s no good. You should’ve said. I wondered why you didn’t eat much tonight.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled into his chest.

  She could hear the disappointment in his voice, but she wasn’t lying about not feeling well. Bile threatened to rise, and she held her breath, forcing the sensation away.

  Sickness gathered in the pit of her stomach and she resisted the temptation to stare up at the ceiling again.