by Carole Pitt
'We also stopped at the garage,' he said, before visiting the brothel.
Elizabeth picked up her reading glasses. The time printed at the bottom of the garage receipt corresponded with their story.
Elizabeth studied Morven properly. There was no doubt the man had presence and anyone susceptible might be drawn in by his charisma. Was that what happened to Wilson and Jade Harper? She still wasn't sure. Morven didn't have the kind of looks she was attracted to, but then neither had Dean Westlake.
Now was the time to find out how good a liar he was. 'On the day you visited the Grasmere Academy we have several people who stated Jade Harper made a pass at you, and you responded favourably.'
Morven lay back in the chair. 'From what I heard about the girl she was very flirtatious with all men, young or old. I don't harbour any desire to have sex with young girls Inspector.'
McAllister stood up and paced up and down. He touched Teresa Lane on the shoulder 'I need to go home and rest,' he pleaded. Then he turned to Elizabeth. 'I don't suppose the Inspector will want to keep us much longer. As soon as I'm out of here, I intend to contact my embassy and speak to the ambassador, who happens to be a close friend. I'll have Ms Lane draw up a list of complaints against Gloucestershire Police and send it to him.'
Elizabeth heard the threat and initially didn't worry. Embassies weren't supposed to interfere in investigations, although she could think of exceptions to the rule. There was one particular unsolved case where the high level of diplomatic involvement was difficult to understand.
She nodded at Lane. 'Same rules apply. I want the forensics unit back at the Bibury house. Once I see confirmation from video coverage from the Morrisons store we can assume your clients are telling the truth.'
'Which poses a problem for you,' Lane said.
'I find that comment insulting. I will find Keith Wilson and Jade Harper's killer.' Elizabeth knew exactly what Lane was implying. That if Morven didn't kill the girl, it was unlikely he'd killed Wilson but she wasn't going to admit it in front of them. Best to let them think Morven was still the prime suspect.
Teresa Lane ushered everyone out of the interview room and Elizabeth rested her head on the wall. She knew the stress was getting to her. She closed her eyes, a few minutes rest, she promised herself, then a strong coffee.
Calbrain suddenly jumped into her thoughts. He hadn't made another appearance at Park Road, probably because he wanted to avoid seeing her.
'Blast,' she muttered to herself. The information he was keen to pass on, the offer she'd rejected. 'Why did I do that?' she asked the empty room. Whatever her feelings were for the man, if he had relevant information she should have listened.
Elizabeth got up and wearily made her way along the corridor. Park Road had quietened down. In reception, she leaned her elbows on the counter and watched as Tom dealt with a customer. He turned his head and smiled. Elizabeth liked the desk sergeant. For a cop, he was reassuring, kind and considerate. He winked and she wondered what he was finding so funny. She looked out of the window. Tom was distracted by Patterson's vehicle pulling up outside the main entrance. Eldridge got out of the passenger seat and opened the rear doors for two young men, Mortimer and his friend Bellamy. Tom watched. 'Double trouble ahead.'
Elizabeth nodded. 'I feel like I'm trapped in a spider's web.'
'A terrible business that young girl, I was hoping my grandchildren might go to Grasmere. I'm not keen now, after what's happened.'
'They're just babies Tom. By the time your oldest is ready to start, no one will remember. And even if they do, they won't want to talk about it.'
Tom sighed. 'Yeah, schools and colleges will eventually end up like fortresses.'
She watched Patterson make for the side door. 'I better go Tom. Don't start worrying about your grandchildren yet. You never know, we could get lucky and this world might change for the better.'
Traces of Teresa Lane's perfume lingered in the interview room. Elizabeth had opened the door expecting to see Patterson. Instead, it was empty apart from a solitary piece of paper on the table. She picked it up and tried to decipher the illegible handwriting. She assumed Toby Markham had left it behind. She folded it carefully and put it into her pocket. She waited outside for a moment wondering where they'd gone. Then it occurred to her, he'd want Mortimer and his mate in the smallest interview room, less comfortable and more intimidating. she made her way there and as soon as she opened the door, she smelled alcohol. What a contrast, she thought. In one room Elizabeth Arden's Red Door, and Jamaican style Red Stripe lager in another. Eldridge was clutching an empty can and had a bruise beneath his left eye.
Elizabeth sat down and spoke directly to Mortimer and Bellamy. 'You're both about to be questioned under caution,' she announced.
'For assaulting a police officer,' Patterson added, unable to hide a faint smile.
Mortimer groaned then smirked. 'You can't get away with that. I asked him to move and he tried head butting me.'
Eldridge leaned over the table. 'And you're a lying bastard.'
Bellamy added his testimony. He's telling the truth. 'You,' he pointed to Patterson, 'had your back to us.'
Elizabeth shouted. 'Shut up whining both of you or you'll end up in a cell.'
She glanced at Eldridge. When he felt like it he'd work well to impress everyone, then, quickly ruin his reputation by some gaffe or other. A short stint back in uniform might put an end to his idiocy. Maybe she could arrange for him to work nights over a weekend scraping drunks off the pavement. He'd soon learn real hardship.
She turned her attention back to Mortimer. Considering his girlfriend had died violently he showed no emotion in his face. He ran his hand through his hair trying to disguise the shaking. Bellamy had begun to fidget too. Elizabeth guessed they were scared of what their parents would say.
'Go and put some antiseptic on that eye,' she told Eldridge.
'Can I get a cup of tea? I need a sugar hit,' he asked.
'If you must,' she answered.
Eldridge couldn't even close the door quietly. The noise made Bellamy shudder and he started whining. 'I want to go home. I haven't done anything.'
'Do you know how many times we hear that when people end up in here?' Elizabeth said.
Bellamy stuck his fingers in his ears. Mortimer closed his eyes.
'It's usually the first words they say. So forget going home until I say you can. This is a police station, one of the few places on the planet where you obey orders.'
'Can we just get on with it then?' Mortimer stammered.
'When was the last time you saw your late girlfriend?' Patterson asked.
'She wasn't my girlfriend,' Mortimer said. 'We just did sex.'
'Answer the question,' Elizabeth said.
'I can't remember exactly, probably a few days ago.'
Elizabeth pushed a pen and sheet of paper towards him. 'That's not good enough. Start writing and it might jog your memory.'
'What about you Mr Bellamy? When did you last see Jade Harper?'
'Ages ago. I didn't always hang out with her and Dunc all the bloody time. I did have other mates.'
'Have you got a girlfriend?'
'Not at the moment.'
'Maybe you shared Jade?' Patterson suggested.
Mortimer shouted. 'She didn't fancy him. It was me she couldn't get enough of.'
Arrogant little bastard, Elizabeth thought. She'd decided not to mention the mask. Right now, she needed them to corroborate their whereabouts. 'Let's make it simple. Where were you between ten pm and the early hours of this morning?'
'I was at home,' Bellamy stated.
'So was I,' Mortimer said.
'So I can phone your parents and they'll confirm you were there?'
Elizabeth waited for one of them to break the silence.
Bellamy checked his desig
ner watch. 'Can I phone my parents now? 'They'll be worried.' Bellamy said.
Elizabeth shook her head. 'I don't care if you sit here all day. We can leave and find a uniformed officer to babysit you. Or, you can start telling me the truth.'
'I saw Jade early evening,' Mortimer said. She called me and demanded I meet her. I thought we were going out drinking, but she had other plans. She said she'd found something out but couldn't tell me what it was.'
Elizabeth looked at Patterson. 'So what was the point in asking to see you? Did you ask what it was about?'
'Jade likes to play mind games. She thinks it's great to wind people up with stupid lies. Then when she has you hooked, she clams up and you can't get anything out of her. It drives me mad. Other than that, she seemed fine. More than fine, she was buzzing, like she was on speed. The last thing she said to me was she'd be in touch, after she was finished whatever she was doing.'
Elizabeth sat quietly, waiting for more.
'She's a stupid bitch. We only ever made use of each other,' Mortimer shouted.
Elizabeth noted he'd referred to Jade in the present tense.
Bellamy added another part to his alibi. 'Mum sent me down to the twenty four hour garage to get fags.'
'That's good news,' Patterson said. 'They all have video cameras.'
Mortimer hadn't written anything down. Elizabeth had the distinct sensation their intention was to bluff it out. Mortimer knew his rights, and Bellamy would follow his example.
The door opened and Eldridge walked in, his swollen cheekbone glistened with antiseptic cream. 'I'm back,' he said.
Elizabeth stood up. 'Sergeant Patterson needs to ring your parents. Then he'll drive you home and talk to them.'
'So you believe us?' Bellamy asked.
'I don't think so, but I'm happy to be proved wrong.'
Eldridge shuffled after Patterson and Elizabeth followed Mortimer and Bellamy. For two young men who thought they were so switched on they had a lot to learn. Neither of them had shown an ounce of concern for the dead girl. However good or bad their parents were, a visit from the police was still a shock, which was in her favour. They might think twice about lying to save their selfish offspring.
Out in the corridor she remembered Yeats. Eldridge was about to disappear around the corner when she called after him.
He walked towards her. 'What's up?'
'You forgot to tell me about Yeats. Did you manage to talk to him?'
Eldridge had a puzzled expression. 'Sorry boss, it went out of my head after I got clouted. I only rang once. He wasn't there.'
'I told you to keep calling.'
'No point,' Eldridge said. 'There was no reference to him returning this weekend because he wasn't expected back until July. Worse still, they had no idea where he'd gone. I got the impression the bloke I spoke to was panicking. He knew your name and said he'd get in touch.'
'When?' Elizabeth asked, trying hard to figure out why Yeats had lied about going to Belfast.
'He didn't say. I thought you wanted rid of him,' Eldridge said.
There's no answer to that, she thought as she made her way across reception.
Tom shouted to her. 'I was just about to ring you. You've got visitors tomorrow morning.'
Elizabeth stopped. 'Tell them to make another appointment.'
Tom grinned. 'Can't, it's too late. He handed her the details. 'Two liaison officers from a place called Terrace in British Columbia are presently on a flight to Vancouver to connect with one coming in to Heathrow. You'll need a welcoming party.'
Not another complication, she thought. Where would she the find time to deal with them? Yeats hadn't mentioned a visit before he took off. It was another one of his manipulative ploys no doubt. Deliberately left her in limbo hoping she'd fall apart. 'Did Yeats mention this to you?'
'No, but everything's above board in BC. I've just taken a call from Terrace. Apparently, Yeats knew exactly what day they were arriving.'
Elizabeth felt exactly like Lee Bellamy had. She wanted to go home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Nick Calbrain poured another glass of red wine. He placed the empty bottle by the kitchen door and took another one out of a cupboard. It was unusual for him to drink during the day but after the argument with Francisca, he felt drained and anxious. She'd returned to Tarifa to help with the wedding preparations and had insisted he join her later in the week. For someone who insisted the UK was home she still went back to Spain at least once a month, usually at weekends.
At the height of the row, Francisca wouldn't accept his decision and resorted to shouting in Spanish. Although he understood some of the language, he was completely lost as her hysteria escalated. He was about to walk out when she stopped yelling and burst into tears. From previous episodes, he knew it would be days before he heard from her. Francisca had a habit of over dramatising situations, which considering her job as a crown prosecutor perplexed him. Apart from their mutual need to settle down, marry and have children, at times he couldn't help but question their relationship.
He had a choice, accept her tempestuous personality or remain single and childless. Looking back over the last decade provided the answer. His life had comprised of too many unsettled and lonely years and he loved Francisca enough to take the risk. At times, he thought she was the most amazing woman in the world. Right now, he was glad to be on his own.
Two national newspapers had printed articles on the Jade Harper murder. There was little information other than the police were studying CCTV footage for any signs of her killer, who was believed to have driven her body to the dump site. Coming so soon after the art teacher's death, several local councillors were calling for more security at Grasmere Academy.
What a mess, Calbrain thought. The tourist season was imminent and Cheltenham's MP was predicting a disastrous summer due to the adverse publicity. Calbrain disagreed. The murders weren't likely to scare visitors away, rather the opposite.
There were plenty of examples, both at home and abroad. The population's fascination with tragedy knew no limits. During his years as a crime journalist and then an editor he'd become accustomed to death. He'd interviewed many grieving families, whether their loved ones were the victims of an accident or crime. Since he'd started a new career he realised he was no longer as immune to the violence. He stared at Jade Harper's photograph, a young girl with no future and here he was obsessing about his own trivial problems.
Francisca took her job seriously and unlike him believed justice would always prevail. To say she was an idealist was an understatement and one of her more endearing characteristics he actually admired. He realised his concentration was slipping and stopped reading. Once they were married, things would settle down. Her demanding job meant she liked her own space. Calbrain also knew how to keep busy and he saw no problem keeping their working lives separate. He knew it wasn't worth battling against her numerous trips to Spain. Her parents were kind and generous people who'd welcomed him into the family. Especially her father, who, according to Francisca, had lost all hope she would ever marry. Calbrain picked up the brochure advertising the wedding venue, a famous hotel in a spectacular setting. This event had all the hallmarks of a society wedding. The Montero's were a well-known family expected to fulfill their obligations.
Calbrain drank more wine and turned his attention to why Elizabeth hadn't responded to his text. He knew from experience the information could be worthless. It certainly wasn't that all-important piece of the jigsaw, rather a questionable snippet from a slightly dubious source. But who knows, he thought. Most major investigations relied on sightings, and Calbrain had learned never to ignore them, however fanciful. He picked up his phone and stared at the screen. His anger had died down and he was feeling more relaxed. Asking her to go for a drink was a waste of time. In a few months, any meeting with Elizabeth Jewell would be out of the question. His
fiancée was a jealous woman. Not long after they'd started dating, Francisca had demanded he tell her everything about his short relationship with DI Jewell. Days went by before she finally accepted she had nothing to fear. In reality, he still thought about her and couldn't always understand why. In any case it was pointless trying to figure it out. He'd messed up his life enough in the past and couldn't afford to again.
The alcohol had got the better of his reasoning. He poured another drink, grabbed his phone and tapped out a message.
CHAPTER FORTY
Tiredness drove Elizabeth to the canteen at three pm. None of the remaining meals appealed to her so she settled for coffee and a piece of shortbread. She finished eating and was about ring Jessica Oakley's when her phone rang.
The Assistant Chief Constable spoke curtly and briefly. He was arriving at Park Road at seven pm and wished to speak to her without any interruptions.
Elizabeth hadn't met ACC Steve Reynolds very often. Compared to the Chief Constable he was an easy going, softly spoken mild mannered man. She hadn't asked why he wanted to see her because she guessed it had something to do with Jade Harper. One clear fact no one could dispute was the Assistant Chief Constable socialised with Jade's father. Elizabeth presumed the two men were freemasons and belonged to the same lodge. Les Harper hadn't achieved his success without mixing with the right people, including senior police officers. Whether she approved was irrelevant, even a suggestion that their association was inappropriate would cause too many bad vibes. Because she valued Reynolds for his honesty, she hoped there were no sinister undertones to his friendship with Harper.
Jessica Oakley took her time answering. 'Sorry for not getting in touch sooner,' Elizabeth said. 'I feel as if I'm being tossed about in the middle of a tornado.'
'No worries. Not all the results are sorted yet.'
'If I'm not disturbing anything crucial can you talk me through this new evidence?'
Jessica laughed. 'It's not too technical, even for you. We have a paint chip that doesn't tie in or match with the other paint samples. This isn't something you'd generally find inside a building, other than a garage.'