by Peter Boon
He considered me for a moment with a worried expression on his face. Then he spoke. ‘Yeah, go on then, mate. I’ll do it. I’ll help you. What do you need?’
‘I’ll explain, but let’s walk this way a bit,’ I said, guiding him back towards the main square, away from his colleagues. ‘You helped secure both crime scenes, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, mate,’ he replied proudly. ‘Remember, I told you, I felt like I was finally getting to do proper police work.’
‘And you gave me Cherry’s mobile phone from the second crime scene,’ I added. ‘But I wanted to know, do you know what happened to Frances Flowers’ mobile phone from the first crime scene?’
‘It’s funny you should say that, we were just talking about it,’ he started in response. ‘We just thought Mrs Flowers didn’t have it on her person at the time like Cherry did, but now they’ve searched the whole Vicarage and they still can’t find it.’
‘Missing evidence!’ Noah declared, waving his gloved hands in the air.
‘What are the theories on it?’ I asked.
‘DC Gillespie from CID reckons that the Reverend must have hidden it or got rid of it, back when he wasn’t going to confess,’ Wood replied. ‘She thinks it must have contained some evidence against him.’
‘Oh yes?’ I prompted.
‘Yeah, and DC Bowie says DI Appleby will have to ask Flowers what he’s done with it. Even though he’s confessed, they’ll still want all the evidence they can. These CID guys, though. They think they know everything.’
‘And what do you think, Dean?’
‘I dunno,’ he mused, deep in thought. ‘I guess they’re husband and wife, they live together, and we already know he was having a conversation with her right before the time of her death. So, I don’t really see what evidence would be on the phone, and why he would have needed to hide it. Unless it was to hide evidence of the affair.’
‘Why did he leave Cherry’s phone on her person then?’ I countered.
‘I don’t know, mate, but that’s not the only strange thing, now you mention it.’
‘Go on?’ I said. I’d been unsure of this tactic, of trying to get information from PC Wood, but it seemed to be paying fruit.
‘At Frances’ crime scene, I find the footprints in the snow a bit odd,’ he said.
‘Oh yes, the footprints!’ Noah said in delight. He loved tangible evidence. ‘We think the murderer must have escaped over the fence to the cliff bottoms at the other side.’
I wasn’t sure of his use of ‘we’ there; I didn’t necessarily think this myself. ‘But now that makes no sense, Noah. Why would Reverend Flowers do that? He wouldn’t need to escape. He could just simply go back into his own house.’
‘Oh yes,’ Noah replied. ‘Maybe the footprints are our red herring; maybe they were there from earlier in the morning by one of the family naturally, and they’re nothing to do with the murder.’
‘No, that’s unlikely,’ PC Wood said back. ‘The snow was already falling then, they can’t have been from too long before or else we wouldn’t have seen them. They were already half covered up when we got to them.’
‘That’s a really good point, Dean,’ I said, impressed. ‘What do you think then?’
‘Well, actually, I have something interesting to show you,’ he said, taking his phone out of his pocket and loading a photo up. ‘Look at this footprint I took a picture of, when I was helping with the crime scene. You can only just make it out as the snow’s started to cover it, but look closely at the print. You can see it facing towards the fence fairly clearly, but look when I zoom in. The footprint also very faintly points the other way, heading back towards the house.’
‘It could be that they came via the back fence, and then went back that way,’ Noah suggested.
‘Possibly,’ Wood replied, ‘but it seems so faint that it seems like they were trying not to even leave a print. Suggesting they wanted us to see the print going to the fence, but not back again.’
‘That’s a really good theory,’ I added, pleased that we had a development. ‘And adding to that, I checked with both Kat and Appleby about the house to house stuff they were co-ordinating, and everyone we’ve accounted for sledging on the cliffside didn’t see anyone at all. Which is odd if we’re saying they climbed over the fence twice.’
‘If we’re going with the theory that it wasn’t Reverend Flowers but someone else, they must have really escaped back through the house then,’ Noah said. The three of us seemed to be working well together.
‘Think about it,’ Wood said quickly in excitement. ‘You’ve just committed a murder, you’ve used footprints to cause confusion. You’re not going to use your own shoes for that. So, you bring another pair with you. But you have to get rid of them soon after. You don’t want them found so you can’t throw them away too near the scene, but at the same time you don’t want anyone to recall seeing you with a conspicuous looking object. So what do you do with them?’
I was really glad of PC Wood at that moment; his logical, simple approach to evidence was exactly what we needed. ‘You put them somewhere away from the Vicarage, but as quickly as you can, and where no one will think to look. The only thing is, I can’t think where.’
‘I think I might know somewhere,’ I said, an idea forming in my head. ‘Come with me.’
27
We were just across the village square, at the recycling area, which housed several large recycling bins of every item you could imagine, including bins for unwanted clothes and shoes.
‘The murderer may not have took the time to deposit the shoes in the correct bin,’ I mused to my two helpers, ‘but it’s as good a place to start as any. If we can get in there, that is.’
The shoes bin had a one way chute to deposit items, which made it difficult to look what was in there.
‘That’s easy,’ Noah said. ‘We know that if our shoes are in here, they’ll be at the top if they were only deposited a few hours ago. If we’re lucky, the bin is full so it won’t be far to reach. I’m the smallest, you two lift me up and I’ll see what I can find.’
‘Brilliant, mate!’ PC Wood replied. ‘Come on then.’
Who knows what we must have looked like, there at the recycling bins, in the snow, with us lifting Noah high enough so he could rummage round in the shoe bin.
‘This is so exciting!’ Noah said, as I struggled to hold his weight. ‘I think that’s what our mysteries have been lacking, some action scenes: us chasing round for clues, things like that.’
PC Wood looked at me in bewilderment. ‘Don’t even ask,’ I mouthed as quietly as I could.
‘Hang on, got something!’ Noah announced loudly from above us. ‘It’s in a bag, hang on… got it!’ He pulled out a bright coloured bag as we lifted him back down to the snow-covered ground.
The first thing I noticed was the paper bag the shoes were in: it was a red and white striped large paper bag, and I recognised it from earlier that day as the largest size of Gloria’s sweets bags, and told my two helpers this.
‘Oh, so does that mean it could be her?’ PC Wood asked.
‘Don’t assume anything yet,’ I told him. I’d learned that already from everything so far in this case.
‘And she had an alibi for the first murder,’ Noah added. ‘Anyway, let’s look in the bag!’
We opened it to find a pair of plain black Converse style trainers, covered in snow. PC Wood looked closely to find out the size. ‘They’re size 8s. They could be anyone’s.’
‘We need to ask all the suspects their shoe size!’ Noah said with glee.
‘I dunno, boys,’ PC Wood said. ‘This is evidence, I should maybe hand them straight over to Appleby.’
‘Yes, you probably should,’ I agreed. ‘But I have an idea. Can you just let me take them somewhere first, and then I’ll bring them back for you to give to Appleby? I think I know where they might be from.’
28
The trek up the cliffside wasn’t quite as difficult a
s when I’d pursued Jacob earlier, now that the snow had stopped falling. But it was still a massive challenge in the still thick snow, particularly for someone uncoordinated and not particularly fit like me.
It was worth it, though; there sitting at the top, when I eventually got there, was Jacob. ‘Edward, what are you doing here?’ He hadn’t shouted at me to go away, which seemed to be progress from what I’d seen so far today of this angry young man.
‘I guessed you’d be here,’ I replied. ‘I wanted to talk to you and check you’re okay.’
‘I’m impressed, I suppose,’ he grunted. ‘I’ve been coming up here to get away for years, my parents never found me. Only stupid Auntie Gloria, but she thinks she knows everything. Not that either of my parents can find me now.’
He clocked my reaction and spoke again. ‘Yes, I know about my dad confessing to the murder. I do have a mobile phone, you know. Must have had twenty different kids text me about it. Even the ones who don’t even bother saying hello to me.’
I wanted to talk about this further but I knew it would be an emotional conversation, so I wanted to ask him my question first. ‘I need to show you something, Jacob, and then ask you a question.’
I hadn’t brought the trainers with me; I could barely climb up there as it was, without carrying a bag too. I showed him the photos of them I’d taken on my phone. ‘Do you recognise these trainers, Jacob?’
‘Let me see,’ he said with some interest, until his expression changed. ‘Wait, yeah, they’re mine! Oi, where did you get them? They’re my trainers I wear for work. I… I haven’t seen them for ages though.’
‘It’s fine, they’re not important,’ I lied. ‘We found them and Noah thought he recognised them as yours. I just thought I’d ask you while I was here.’
‘Yeah, alright, just give me them back sometime. Not like I’ve got a job to wear them for now anyway.’
Out of all the things he’d lost today, it appeared surprising that his job was the one he was focusing on. But I had a theory, one I was almost sure of, that might explain that.
‘Jacob, I need to ask you a personal question. Before you get angry, I want to say you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, but if you do, it would really help me and I think it might help your dad too.’
‘Go on,’ he said, eyeing me suspiciously.
‘It isn’t an easy question, but here it is. When you got angry at Noah this morning, you said Cherry’s name first, and then your dad’s after, do you remember?’
He answered quickly and sharply, without hesitation. ‘Yeah, so?’
‘And I’m really sorry, but I was coming to see your dad before, I accidentally overheard your argument with him.’
He looked down at the snow, ashamed. ‘I didn’t mean to push him like that.’
‘I know, don’t worry. He was fine afterwards and I think it’s forgivable under the circumstances.’
‘Ah, good old forgiveness,’ he retorted. ‘It’s all Dad talks about – forgive this, forgive that.’
‘Anyway,’ I said, keen to move on to what I wanted to say, ‘I heard your Dad say to you, “I know you loved her.” At first, I thought he was talking about your mum, and of course you loved your mum. But he wasn’t talking about her, was he?’
I knew I was potentially on thin ice with this volatile teenager, but when I saw the tear in his eye, I knew I was right.
‘Jacob, he was talking about Cherry, wasn’t he? You were in love with her.’
29
I rounded up the conversation with Jacob fairly swiftly after that. I’d treaded very carefully on purpose, ensuring I didn’t anger him or accuse him of anything. I’d found out what I needed to know for now: that the trainers belonged to Jacob, that he himself was in love with Cherry, and that his father had realised this.
I was starting to form a theory, and I was almost ready to present it to Appleby. But not quite. I wanted to have two conversations first, for my own peace of mind: one directly linked to the solution of the case, the other a little more personal one.
I was lucky enough to find the first person I needed to speak to as I arrived back in the square, after nearly breaking my neck a hundred times coming down the snow-filled cliff slope.
Everest Brown was in his Burger She Wrote van sorting out stock when I arrived to speak to him.
‘I’m not really open,’ he said, ‘but I can do you a quick vegan burger I reckon.’
‘No, it’s okay, I wanted a chat with you actually,’ I explained.
‘Oh sorry, man, I just realised you’re the police helper investigator guy! Yeah, I’m glad you’ve found me, I was gonna have a chat with you, actually.’
This was interesting, but if I was right, I thought I knew what about. ‘Yes, I’m Edward, pleased to meet you properly. You were really shocked Reverend Flowers confessed to the murders, weren’t you?’
‘As a matter of fact, Edward, yes I was. Allan Flowers is a good guy, one of the best. He’s helped me out so much. It might be too late and it probably won’t mean much, but I don’t think he did it, I don’t see how he could have, he’s not a killer.’
‘I agree with you, and it’s one of the reasons I wanted to speak to you.’ I continued, preparing for the important question. ‘But there’s another reason too. You said you have family in the village. You came here to find your son, didn’t you?’
I saw the shock on his face; I knew he wasn’t expecting me to say that. He thought for a second, then grinned. ‘There’s no use denying it, if you’ve got as far as working that out. You’re really good at this investigation stuff, aren’t you?’
I blushed at the compliment and pressed on. ‘My guess is, you got in touch with the local Reverend to help establish yourself in our little close-knit village. You probably told him you needed help reuniting with family, but I don’t think you told him who. He agreed to set you up on the winter market, and you’ve been settling in the village since, waiting for the chance to reveal who you are.’
Wow, man. How do you know all this?’ He seemed genuinely amazed, but I’d just used logic.
‘Reverend Flowers has been getting criticism for having his favourites, but I’ve learned he’s a man who will always help those in need. He does so much fundraising with the school I work at, for example. But I also know he’s protective over his market, and most people there have a connection with him. When I learned you had family in the village but wouldn’t say who, I just pieced the rest together.’
‘But how did you know it was a son?’
I looked at him and spoke gently. ‘because I know who it is. And I know he needs you.’
30
The second conversation I wanted to have was with someone I knew much better. I’d sent a text, asking him to meet me privately in the church hall.
‘Edward, buddy!’ Patrick said warmly as he arrived. ‘What’s up?’
‘Come sit down,’ I said, pointing to a chair. ‘Thanks for coming so quickly, I want to have a chat.’
‘Sure, buddy, anything. Do you need help with your investigation?’
‘Kind of. This will seem quite strange, seeing as last time you saw me, I was rushing off to prove Reverend Flowers’ innocence. But I actually don’t want to talk about that. I wanted to ask about you and Becky, and Kat. Is everything okay?’
He looked puzzled, which seemed to the reaction I was evoking in all of the last few people I’d spoken to. ‘Do you mean what I said this morning about Kat, and why she moved out? Yeah, that’s all fine, I was being silly.’
‘Yes, partly that, and also when we were all in the pub the first time today, you reacted strangely around Kat a couple of times. You seemed jealous when she mentioned Appleby, for example.’
‘Wow, Edward, I hope Becky isn’t a good a detective as you,’ he said, laughing nervously. ‘If it was anyone else, I’d worry I was being too obvious.’
‘Do you still have feelings for Kat?’
‘No, at least I don’t think so. It’
s a strange one, buddy. I really like Becky, she’s a great girl and it’s going very well. But a lot of things are changing all at once. Kat moving out, me moving on. It just makes me a little sad, that’s all. When all three of us were single in that house, there was always the possibility we could get back together. And that’s not there anymore.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’ I asked.
‘I thought it was, but I’ve realised I’m being silly. Me and Kat belong in the past as a couple, we’re exes for a reason. But Becky could be the future. Or maybe not, but I still have to take the risk and go for it. Two women have died today, one ten years younger than us. If that’s not a message to seize the day, I’m not sure what is.’
I reflected on what he said and then asked my next question. ‘Do you think some part of you will always love Kat?’
He didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, buddy, of course. Not in love with her, but you know, she was such a big part of my life when we were together, and still is now. That doesn’t go away, especially when we’re still so close.’
‘I suppose it’s unusual, you two staying best friends,’ I mused. ‘I guess it’s more common for exes to hate each other, like Gloria and Pedro do.’
‘I don’t get that though, Edward. I suppose our village is small and you can’t avoid each other, but if you can’t stay friends like us, you should avoid each other completely. Not have big dramatic public rows like they always do.’
‘I guess so,’ I agreed. ‘I’m glad you and Kat didn’t end up like that.’
‘We never would. Anyway, thanks for checking on me, but enough about that. How about you, you think you’re found the real killer then?’
I reflected on all the new things I’d had confirmed that afternoon, piecing it together with all the other information I’d acquired through the day. ‘You know what, Patrick? I think I have.’