by Helen Phifer
‘My dad.’ Morgan felt her throat constrict it felt so dry. She couldn’t get the words out; they were stuck in the back of her throat, giving her a bad taste.
Ben waited for her to continue.
She let out a small cough.
‘Stan, he… He was on the CCTV I viewed from the Potters’ front camera the day before the murders. He’s talking to Saul Potter then he comes up the drive.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I didn’t carry on watching. I was so shocked I paused the recording and went home to confront him. That’s when I discovered he’d ransacked my flat.’
She couldn’t look him in the eyes. It was better to get it over with now. She could re-join her shift. They’d be coming in soon – maybe she could tell them she hated CID; it was not for her. She didn’t have to let them know she’d been kicked out so soon.
‘This kind of complicates things, doesn’t it?’ she asked him.
He reached out, taking hold of her arm and led her into his office, closing the door behind him.
‘Have a seat.’
She sat down, still unable to look him in the eyes.
‘Thank you for your honesty. This can’t have been easy for you but you’re doing the right thing. I’m going to have to look into him now, and he’s going to have to be brought in for questioning. We might be able to rule him out. What’s he do for a living?’
‘You mean when he’s not being an alcoholic petty thief? Not much. He’s a bit of an odd-job man, does a spot of gardening. Nothing much.’
‘So, there’s a good chance he might have worked for the Potters.’
‘Possibly, he wouldn’t have a reason to be at their house if he didn’t know them. Look, I know this is awkward, but I really don’t want to go back down to response. I want to stay involved; I want to catch whoever has done this.’
Ben began to rub his hand across his chin. ‘No, I don’t want to lose you. I think I can swing it that you stay up here. Look, you’re the one who has brought this to my attention. You could have tampered with the evidence or neglected to tell me the man was related to you. You haven’t, though; you’ve been open and honest, which I really appreciate. What will happen is that you will continue working up here, but I’m going to task you with looking into the first set of murders. You will probably have to spend hours up in the attic looking for the files. I’ll clear it all with the DCI. Tom will agree to it. Is that okay with you? Right, you’d better show me this footage before I speak to the boss.’
‘Yes, of course. Thank you.’ She wanted to high five him, but wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate it.
She led him to the CCTV viewing room she’d run from last night. The light was still on but the television monitor had turned itself off. When she pressed the button it fired to life, still paused on the zoomed-in image of Stan. Her throat felt dry as she reached forward to press rewind. Ben watched in silence.
She left him to it and went to see if she could find Dan.
She saw him going into the locker room and followed, calling, ‘Dan.’
He turned to face her.
‘Morgan.’
‘I sent you an email. I just wanted to mention it.’
‘Very good, what about?’
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. He was being so offhand with her and she didn’t get why.
‘To ask if you could check the external camera outside the Potters’ front door and see if it had been tampered with.’
He put his hands in his pockets.
‘And why can’t you?’
A burning rage began to build inside her chest at his attitude.
‘Because I’m tied up with enquiries for a murder investigation. Look, Dan, I don’t understand why you’re acting this way. I thought we were all a team, that we worked for the same side. I guess I got that bit wrong, but you get paid to do this stuff, so why don’t you do it instead of acting as if it’s all some huge inconvenience?’
He shook his head and turned his back on her. Morgan stormed off before she completely lost her temper with him. At least she could continue to work with CID. She was mortified about the possibility that Stan could be involved, but she had a new feeling inside her. A steely determination that she could do this. She would research the first murders and prove to Ben and Dan that she had what it takes to make a first-class detective.
Twenty-Four
Ben watched the man on the screen as he shuffled up to the house. He waited until Morgan left the small room and was out of earshot. Then he phoned Tom to tell him they had a suspect that needed bringing in. He explained about Morgan and was relieved when Tom agreed with his plan.
‘Do you think this Stan Brookes is good for the murders, Ben?’
‘Too early to say, boss, but he’s as good a place to start looking as anywhere. He knows the property, and knew the Potters.’
Ben ended the call. He looked at his watch and grinned. Not a bad start to the day and it wasn’t even seven a.m. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Stan Brookes. He was looking forward to teaching him about family values and not stealing from his daughter. Of course, he wouldn’t let Morgan know about any of that. He didn’t want to embarrass her more than she already was with such a loser for a father. Up to now she was having the shittiest first week anyone had probably ever encountered and yet here she was at the crack of dawn ready to work a long shift for no extra pay and not much thanks.
Amy was right: he might be getting soft in his old age but to him it felt as if she’d woken him up from a three-year sleep. Since Cindy had died, he’d been on autopilot. His home life was a cycle of eat, drink too much and sleep. Work was… well, it was work. He’d plodded on doing his best to solve crimes and getting the results without putting too much effort in. Olivia Potter’s death had changed all of that; his sloppiness had resulted in Bronte Potter almost dying in a cellar next to the bodies of her family. He should have been more thorough and now he would have to shoulder the burden of that for the rest of his life: another thing to add to his list of things he’d well and truly fucked up. There might be an internal investigation into the mistakes made at accepting her death as a suicide, but until that happened and he got kicked off the job he was going to do his best to bring the killer in and get justice for the Potter family. Amy could accompany him to the post-mortems of Saul and Beatrix; he would send Morgan to the hospital for an update on Bronte. He’d noticed that she’d been desperate to go and visit yesterday.
He wondered what Claire Williams would think when he rang her with an update on the latest news. Hopefully she’d be happy with Morgan continuing to work on researching the early murders. If not he’d be willing to put up a fight to keep her; he felt as if he owed her something now that her life had gone so spectacularly to shit.
By the time the office began to fill up Ben was raring to go. Morgan was nowhere to be seen and he assumed she’d gone on the hunt for the old case files. He didn’t know anything about that case or who had worked it. Once she had some information to go on he might be able to put her in contact with the original detectives, although they’d have been retired a long time. Fingers crossed they were still alive. He decided that now was as good a time as any for a briefing. Claire and Abigail were both here; he could update them all at the same time and save repeating himself.
‘Right then, should we go to the blue room for an update?’
He led the way.
The blue room was in a strange place tucked away on the first floor down a tiny corridor. There was a staircase before the corridor which led up to the attic; Kenny was coming down it.
‘Morning, Kenny, is Morgan up there?’
‘If you mean that young lass, then yep. Who did she upset to get that job? Have you been up there lately? It’s a shithole with boxes strewn everywhere not to mention pigeon crap. Rather her than me.’
Ben wondered if he should get someone to help her try and locate the files, but he didn’t have anyone to spare. She was on h
er own for now, though he doubted she’d care.
He sat down at the oval table and waited for everyone else to join him so he could give them the latest updates.
Twenty-Five
Morgan stared at the haphazard stacks of cardboard boxes strewn around the attic space and groaned. She could hear the gentle cooing in the eaves from the pigeons and there were feathers and droppings everywhere. Not exactly the most hygienic place she could spend her morning. A shiver wracked her entire body; there were large holes in the roof where the wind was blowing through and it was freezing. She closed her eyes. You can do this. Isn’t it what you want? How many rookies get this kind of chance, Morgan? Woman up, all you have to do is find a stack of boxes with the right year on.
Her eyes opened. Dan hadn’t spoken to her properly since she’d been given the chance to work alongside Ben. Considering he’d been her tutor, he was such a child at times; he had the mentality of a seventeen-year-old. She wasn’t going to give up this opportunity for anyone, let alone him. Ben had said they needed extra bodies, and she knew if she said she couldn’t cope he’d replace her in a heartbeat, and there was no way she was giving him a chance to make her look as if she couldn’t do the job. She’d show them all he had made the right decision by giving her this opportunity.
An hour later, she found a box labelled ‘O’Brien Murders Unsolved’. A whoop of delight escaped her lips. It didn’t matter that it was right at the bottom of the biggest stack of boxes in there. She began to lift each box off and restack them into a pile, wondering how many cold cases there were up here. Maybe if she did a good job on the O’Briens, Ben would let her work them. It would be fascinating and a good way to learn. When the last box was there for her to inspect, she felt a small tingle of excitement: this box was much bigger than the others. But of course, there was an entire investigation of a murdered family in here. It was heavy as well.
She dragged it to the stairs where there was more light than in the shadowy attic space. Sitting on the top step she lifted the lid off, and inside were stacks of files, some brown paper evidence bags and a folder. She pulled the smaller folder out and opened it and a stack of photos fluttered to the floor. Staring down at them, she realised she was looking at some of the worst crime scene photographs she’d ever seen. All the books, documentaries, films and television shows she’d watched over the years were nothing compared to these small photos of complete violence and devastation.
Footsteps coming up the stairs startled her from the daze she was in and her heart skipped a beat.
Ben appeared around the bend, almost running into her.
‘Christ, you scared me sitting there like some little ghost; you look as white as one.’
She held up a stack of photos. ‘I found the box.’
He looked over her shoulder at the stacks of boxes. ‘You deserve a medal, well done. I’ll help you carry it down, although I don’t want that box in the office; it might have some kind of pigeon disease. You can take it in the empty room that used to belong to CCTV operators. In fact, it might be a good idea to turn that into an office for you. You’re going to need lots of room to go through this without getting it mixed up with the current investigation. I’ll ask Kenny to set you a computer up and a couple of whiteboards.’
‘Thanks, that will be great.’ She stood up, wiping her hands on her trousers. She felt grimy and wanted to shower, change into fresh clothes. These were minging now. She placed the photos back inside the box and he stooped down to pick it up.
‘I can manage, you know.’
‘I know you can, but it’s the least I can do after you’ve spent all this time up here looking for it.’
She followed him down to the first floor; he walked past the CID office and carried on towards the far end. Pushing open a door with a ‘Knock Before Entering’ sign, she followed him inside a large, empty room. There was a bank of old television monitors along one wall with a set of controls to operate the cameras.
‘Wow, those are practically antiques.’
Ben laughed. ‘Careful, I remember when they installed them. They were top of the range back then.’
‘Oh. I didn’t mean…’
‘It’s okay, Morgan, I’m older than you and I’m joking.’
He placed the box on a large table. ‘What do you think, are you okay to work from here? I’m only down the corridor. I’ll be popping in to check where you’re at with everything and you can come see me whenever you want.’
‘Yeah, I mean it’s a bit outdated but it’s good. Who’d have thought I’d end up with my own office so soon after joining your team? I don’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult.’
He reached out and took hold of her arm. ‘It’s definitely not an insult. I’m not trying to get rid of you. I want you on my side, but things have got a little complicated and I can’t jeopardise any ongoing investigations. You understand that, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. Have you picked him up yet?’
‘Not yet. Officers are on their way to a couple of locations where there might have been sightings of him.’
She nodded, finding it difficult to find the right words to say. Her entire life had been turned upside down in three days. How she wished she had someone to go home to and talk about it with. She didn’t even have a cat. Her last boyfriend had dumped her when she’d told him she’d been offered a place in the police, which told her all she needed to know about his character. What she’d give, though, to have someone to share a bottle of wine with and tell them what a rubbish day she’d had. Although she was fiercely independent she still liked company.
Ben left her to go and find Kenny, and she went in search of the cleaners’ cupboard. There was no way she was going to spend ten hours or more a day cooped up in an office which hadn’t been dusted or cleaned in at least three maybe four years.
By the time Ben came back in an hour later with two mugs of coffee, the whole place smelt of lemon and beeswax. She had dragged everything out, polished, hoovered and put everything she needed into a more suitable workspace. She’d even cleaned the grime from the windows so daylight could filter through. Kenny had set her a computer up and was in the process of drilling two huge whiteboards onto the wall.
‘Wow, I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s like the television show where they get sixty minutes to makeover a house.’
She grinned. ‘Do you watch much daytime TV then?’
‘God, no. Absolutely not, I’ve seen it advertised.’
Amy followed him in. ‘That’s an outright lie. He watches all the crap when he’s on lates, then spends the next eight hours filling anyone in who might listen to him. He’s right, though, you’ve done a good job. I might move down here. It’s better than our office and not full of people.’
‘No, you’re not. You need to be back there so I can see where we are and what we’re up to.’
She shook her head. ‘He doesn’t trust us, do you, boss?’
‘No, you’ve been doing this too long. You know how to flaunt the rules. Morgan is new, she’s keen, and I imagine she wants to get jobs done and learn how to do stuff. A bit like you ten years ago, before you decided you didn’t like working for a living.’
Amy walked out tutting and Morgan felt awkward. She didn’t want to be responsible for bad feeling between the pair of them. Ben must have noticed the concern on her face.
‘Don’t worry, we’re always like this. She’ll be in a mood for around six minutes then snap out of it. Kenny, can you give us a couple of minutes?’
‘I’m done now.’ Kenny turned to Morgan. ‘If you need anything else you know where to find me.’ He left them to it.
‘I just wanted you to know an arrest team is being assembled to go bring your dad in. He’s supposed to be on his way to Ann Street. I’ll be the arresting officer and interview him.’
‘Oh, I thought he was a person of interest not a suspect.’
He paused. ‘He is, but he’s also the last
person up to now to have seen them alive, and you said yourself when he turned up he had some scratches. The DCI has decided it’s better to bring him in under the the Police and Criminal Evidence Act and get him questioned. He’s only going to clam up and ask for a solicitor if we ask him in for a friendly chat. We might as well do it in one shot before he has a chance to. Oh, I was wondering if you’d mind going to visit Bronte. See what the hospital staff say about her condition?’
‘Yes, of course and thanks for telling me.’
She sat down. Her knees felt like they couldn’t hold her up. He passed her the mug of coffee and she gripped it tight, afraid her fingers were going to start trembling and she’d spill it everywhere.
He opened his mouth to say something else, thought better of it and left her alone.
Twenty-Six
The hospital was a hive of activity. It was far bigger than the one nearest to Rydal Falls and the corridors went on forever. Morgan followed the signs to ICU. She wasn’t sure if she’d be allowed in or not and had a feeling that Ben had sent her here to get her out of the way while Stan was being brought in. As she reached the entrance to the unit she bumped into the ward manager, who was coming out.
‘I’m Morgan Brookes from Cumbria Constabulary.’ The woman looked at her as if to say ‘and?’. Morgan wasn’t sure if she was to call herself detective or officer. ‘PC Morgan Brookes; is it possible to visit Bronte Potter?’
‘She’s already got a visitor and a police guard, but I suppose you can for a short time. It’s only two visitors at a time and usually just close relatives.’
‘Thanks, where is she?’
‘Through the double doors. There’s a private room at the end. You can’t miss the copper sitting in the doorway.’
Morgan covered her hands in sanitiser and pushed open the door. The sound was almost deafening from all the different machines and monitors beeping and buzzing. She saw the room at the end and yes, there was a huge copper sitting on a chair: one she recognised.