One Left Alive: A heart-stopping and gripping crime thriller (Detective Morgan Brookes Book 1)

by Helen Phifer

  He stared into his pint, and she tried to keep her voice calm; if she got angry then he’d clam up for definite.

  ‘I know you don’t really care about anyone except yourself but come on. Saul Potter was a good man from what I’ve been told about him, and he gave you work when a lot of people turned their back on you. Don’t do this for me, do it for them, do it for Saul. He was murdered along with his wife and daughter. He didn’t deserve that, none of them did. So if you know anything—’

  ‘Saul was a good bloke, you’re right. He never looked down his nose at me. His wife now, she wasn’t such a good person.’

  Morgan felt her heart skip a beat. He carried on talking.

  ‘She was cheating on him; I saw her a few times when he was at work. Carrying on with that pompous prick, it upset me. I didn’t know what to do about it, though, so I didn’t do anything and look what happened.’

  ‘What was his name?’

  ‘Barker, Greg Barker. He’s our esteemed mayor. I’m not proud of myself, you know; I wish I’d have done something, but I didn’t know what to do and now they’re dead.’

  ‘It’s a difficult situation to be in.’

  He stared at her; she kept his gaze.

  ‘That day you saw them, you know you’re the last person we know about to have spoken to them. Can you tell me what they said, how they were with one another?’

  ‘Saul told me to come back the next day. He said he needed a hand to cut a few of the trees back. He slipped me twenty quid. He was a bit quiet; he said to go up to the house and ask Olivia for something to eat. He was good like that, always made sure I had food when I was there.’

  ‘He sounds great. And what was Olivia like that day? Was she okay, her usual self?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not really, she never liked me much. I could see the way she’d look me up and down, caught her rolling her eyes to her daughters a couple of times. That kind of thing. But she always made me a sandwich and gave me a can of pop. She looked a bit upset that day; her eyes were a bit red as if she’d been crying. Didn’t say much at all, passed me a sandwich, apple, bag of crisps and a can of Vimto then shut the door. She didn’t even give me the chance to say thanks.’

  ‘Did you see the girls?’

  He shook his head. ‘I was about to leave when I heard her phone ring. She was shouting down it to whoever was on the other side. Said they’d ruined her life and she’d make them pay big time. I backed off; it was none of my business. I went back to Carol’s and that was when she decided to throw me out, so I came to the pub and got drunk. You can ask Steve over there, behind the bar. I was here until closing time and then I went to your place. It’s really dark along those lanes; I fell over into the hedgerows a couple of times. Then I realised I was the last person you’d want to see, so I sat at the edge of the drive on that big boulder. Until I was cold and plucked up the courage to knock on your door.’

  Morgan had no reason to disbelieve him; he hadn’t faltered once. He hadn’t paused as if trying to decide what to tell her, it had come out with no hesitation.

  ‘It’s terrible. What about the O’Briens?’

  ‘Morgan, that was a long time ago. My memory isn’t what it used to be. I’ve drunk a lot of alcohol over the years since that happened and probably killed off more of my brain cells than I can afford to.’

  ‘I know, but was there anything you can think of at the time that rang bells, that you thought was odd?’

  He blew out a long breath. ‘It’s funny you know, I hadn’t really thought about it much, but that Greg Barker was also always sniffing around Jennifer. He worked with her husband Jason. I just thought they were good friends, well until they fell out over money; I was a lot younger back then and had my own fair share of problems. My parents kicked me out of the house when I was seventeen, you know, and I spent a lot of years sofa surfing until I met your mum. Sylvia changed my life for the better; at least she did for a while. But it’s the drink; I’ve always had a problem with it. I tried my best to get off it. I joined the AA and went to the meetings religiously. I was sober for almost ten years.’

  ‘What happened?’ Morgan didn’t want him to stop talking. They had never had a conversation like this before.

  ‘Sylvia, she wanted a baby so bad, it was all she talked about. But she would always lose them before she made it to three months. I prayed so hard for a miracle to happen and it did, you came along and Sylvia was in love. She was smitten with you and I got pushed to one side. Before you say anything, I know what I sound like, I was like a spoilt brat. We’d been on our own for so many years with no children, we were both almost forty when you happened. I found it a lot harder to adjust than I imagined. So instead of going home and playing happy families like I should have, like I knew Sylvia wanted, I spent more and more time in the pub. I wasn’t there when she needed me, that day.’

  His breath caught in the back of his throat and for the first time in forever she took a good, hard look at the man sitting opposite her. His face was full of deep grooves and lines; his greying hair was almost gone on the top it was so thin. His eyes were a piercing blue, watery with unshed tears. A lump formed in the back of her throat. She’d spent so many years hating him she couldn’t remember a time when she’d loved him and that made her sad. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, and she could feel Stan’s eyes on her as if he, too, was only just realising the woman sitting opposite him was his own flesh and blood. But as much as she longed to continue talking about her mum, she had to focus on the investigation.

  ‘Stan, did you hear any rumours about the O’Briens’ murders at the time? Did anyone point fingers, gossip, that kind of thing?’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t think so. I mentioned to the police that I thought Barker was involved on some level, but I didn’t think they listened. They were never going to believe me over him. I’d been in a fair share of drunken fights and I got caught for petty thefts a few times. The coppers didn’t like me and wouldn’t take anything I said serious. I carried on minding my own business and drinking, and the house got boarded up. People eventually stopped speaking about the tragedy. The police tried to investigate but they didn’t have a clue. Over the years, when no one was ever brought to justice, it all got forgotten about. The police round here were never much experienced with something of that level. It was far too serious for them to handle. An entire family were murdered in cold blood and all the locals were bothered about was if it would affect the value of their properties.’

  The door opened and two men around the same age as Stan barged through it, stopped and stared at the pair of them sitting there. Morgan supposed they made an odd couple.

  ‘What you done now, Stan? You’ve been in more scrapes with the coppers this week than I have my entire life.’

  Stan glared at the men, his cheeks reddening. Morgan realised they had no idea who she was and Stan didn’t look as if he was about to introduce her to them. She stood up, reached over and held out her hand for him to shake. He looked at her but took it firmly in his grasp.

  ‘Thanks for your advice, Stan, I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. I’ll see you around.’

  With that she walked out of the pub, leaving him to it. He could tell his friends whatever story he wanted. She doubted it would be the truth, though; he was ashamed of her and that stung, a lot more than she’d ever admit to anyone. She’d wanted to ask him about the necklace, but missed the chance when those two had walked in.

  As she sat inside her car staring at the pub in the distance, she thought about her mum and a sharp stabbing pain filled her chest. Sylvia had wanted her so much; they had been so close. Yet Morgan had no idea why she’d killed herself. Now that Stan had actually spoken to Morgan she wondered if he’d open up about the circumstances surrounding her death. After it had happened he’d clammed up and barely spoken to her. She had blamed him for everything. Maybe she was being a little unfair. She now knew after working this job that people could snap out of th
e blue.

  Forty-Six

  Morgan knew she needed something concrete to give to Ben, some kind of hard evidence of Barker’s involvement with Olivia. The woman from the post office had mentioned a pub she’d seen them at, The Grain. Might as well visit that as well, see if anyone there had anything to say. At least Ben would know she was trying her best to help. The drive to the small country pub took her past Thirlmere. Hot, tired and fed up of getting nowhere fast, she stopped in a small lay-by and got out of the car. She walked to the dry-stone wall which formed a barrier between the steep drop to the huge reservoir and the car park. The sun was trying its best to peek through the dark clouds that were forming above the Helvellyn mountain ridge to the east. The rugged beauty of where she lived and worked was never lost on her. Though the warmer weather brought swarms of tourists to the area, if you knew where to look there were still plenty of places to escape to while most people flocked to Lake Windermere, Coniston Water or Tarn Hows. The conifer-clad banks of Thirlmere were still a good place to escape to and a couple of times she’d hiked the ten-mile walk around it. Her mind felt heavy, so much responsibility felt like a dead weight around her neck. She wanted to prove her capability as a detective to Ben on her own merit. If she could just find something to move this case along, it would prove to him he’d made the right decision.

  The Grain was definitely a hard place to find. She drove past the lane which led to it a few times, having to do the tightest five-point turns on the narrow lanes. Eventually she turned into the secluded car park. Baskets, tubs and window boxes overflowing with geraniums, petunias, trailing nasturtium and bacopa, against the backdrop of the white-washed walls, made the outside look so pretty. There were a few picnic benches and a small fenced-off play area. Hers was the only car and she wondered if anyone was in. The front door was ajar, and she knocked.

  A voice shouted: ‘Come in.’

  Morgan stepped inside her second pub of the day. This one smelt far better than the one before. Inside it was much brighter and modern as well. There was a woman behind the bar, polishing the woodwork.

  ‘Morning, lovey, we’re not open yet.’

  ‘Morning. Oh, that’s okay, I’m not a customer. I’m from the police. I wondered if I could ask you a few questions about an investigation.’

  ‘Yes, of course. You’d better come and sit down; would you like a tea or coffee?’

  ‘If it’s no trouble, a coffee would be amazing. Thank you.’

  ‘No trouble at all, I was going to make myself one anyway. I’m Elaine, I run this place with my partner Simone. You’ve just missed her; she’s gone into Rydal to get some shopping.’

  Elaine disappeared for a few minutes and came back with two mugs of coffee; passing one to Morgan, she sat down.

  ‘What can I help you with?’

  ‘I’m part of the team investigating the murder of the Potter family. Are you aware of it?’

  She nodded. ‘Terrible tragedy, yes. I am very aware of it.’

  ‘Did you know the Potters? Did they ever come here?’

  ‘I’m not one for gossip, but I knew something bad was going to come out of it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That woman’s blatant lack of morals. She used to come here now and again with her husband. He was such a nice guy. Then she stopped bringing him and brought another man instead. It was obvious what they were up to. They’d be holding hands under the table. I tried not to look, but you could see him stroking her thigh. I’m not a prude at all, but it was the total disregard for her family which upset me. I thought they’d split up and it wouldn’t have been so bad if they had, then I saw her the day after in town with her husband, her arm linked through his. He looked so happy and it made me feel sick. Simone told me to forget about it, not to let it bother me, that it wasn’t any of my business and she was right, it wasn’t.’

  Morgan felt so sad for Saul; they say the partner is always the last to know.

  ‘Who was the man she came with, do you know?’

  ‘Greg Barker, you’ll know him, he’s the mayor.’

  She smiled; she knew him very well. Looking up, she spotted a domed CCTV camera by the bar.

  ‘You wouldn’t have any footage of the pair of them together, would you?’

  Elaine let out a laugh. ‘Do I? Yes, I do, only it’s more like a pornographic video. I didn’t know what to do with it. Simone told me I should destroy it, but I didn’t. I just had a bad feeling about it. I guess I realised it was all going to go to shit before it actually did. Truth be told, I’ll be glad to be rid of it. I’ve kept it in the safe, not sure why I did but you are very welcome to it. If I never have to look at it again that would suit me just fine.’

  She stood up and disappeared behind the bar for a second time. Morgan’s stomach was churning; she wanted to know what was on the footage and prayed to God it was enough evidence to keep Barker in custody. Elaine came back clutching a pen drive in her hand and passed it to her.

  ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thank you, I really appreciate it.’

  ‘You’re welcome, I hope he never darkens my door again. He’s a vile man. God knows who voted him in as mayor, because most of the people I know can’t abide him either.’

  Excited to go back and see what was on the pen drive, Morgan headed back to the station to view the footage and tell Ben.

  Forty-Seven

  Ben was waiting for Tom to give him the all-clear to speak to Greg Barker in custody when Morgan came rushing down the stairs, breathless.

  ‘Boss, you need to come and look at this footage which was handed to me at The Grain.’

  ‘I’m about to go into interview.’

  She was shaking her head. ‘No, like now.’

  He followed her up to the office, where she had an image paused on her computer monitor. He perched on the desk behind her and she played the short clip for him. He watched as CCTV footage began to play of a couple walking out of a pub. Judging by the way the woman was walking in front and the distance between them, they’d fallen out. The footage was clear and Ben realised he was watching Olivia Potter; the male behind her wasn’t her husband. It was Greg Barker. Morgan paused it again, turning to look at him.

  ‘Bloody hell, this is good. What were they doing? Is she with any of her family?’

  ‘I hope not because it gets better in a terrible sort of way.’ She pressed play again and they watched as Barker jogged to catch up with her. He grabbed hold of her elbow and pulled her back towards him. She pushed him away, but he gently tugged her forwards. The next minute they were kissing, and not just a peck on the cheek: it was full-on. The car park was deserted. The only two cars there must have belonged to the pair of them. The next minute he was pushing her against the bonnet of a car, his hands running up her thighs, lifting her skirt.

  ‘Jesus, does he bang her there in a car park?’

  Morgan nodded. ‘At least you can have him for public indecency if all else fails.’

  They watched in silence as the couple on the screen had the quickest sex Ben had ever seen, in full view of the outside camera. When it was over he shook his head.

  ‘Blimey, my eyes are burning.’

  Morgan nodded. ‘Mine too, and that’s the second time I’ve had to sit through it.’

  ‘Where did it come from?’

  ‘The landlady at a small pub, The Grain. When I spoke to the couple who own the post office she told me she’d seen Olivia and Barker together a couple of times at the pub. I thought I’d go and speak to them.’

  ‘Brilliant, absolutely brilliant, Morgan. This gives my little chat with Barker a whole new perspective. He has motive, he knew the Potters, well Olivia, a lot more than he’s been letting on and he knew the O’Briens very well. He’s the right age to have committed the first murders.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Play him his debut into film-making and see what he has to say for himself. The sly old fox, just goes to prove you’re never too old t
o do anything when you put your mind to it. It’s not enough to charge him, though, we need forensics to tie him to one or both cases. You know what the CPS is like; they won’t take this anywhere unless we have concrete evidence.’

  ‘What about Jamie Stone? Do you think there’s a connection between him and Greg Barker? I don’t believe we have that many murderers running around Rydal Falls.’

  ‘You and Amy can focus on Jamie Stone, and his associates. If they were acquainted and how well they knew each other. As the mayor and editor of the newspaper they were bound to move in the same circles. Attend the same functions. Maybe Stone knew about the video and was going to expose Barker. He’s certainly angry enough to have the balls to kill someone. Go and interview the staff at the paper, see if there was any talk of a big exposure.’

  ‘Or even blackmail?’

  ‘Maybe, depends how much Jamie Stone knew about Barker’s affairs. If it comes back to Barker, though, then we have motive.’

  He left her, smiling to himself. Things were picking up now. His main focus was the Potters’ and Stone’s murders. They were the ones he was most likely to get a conviction for; the evidence was fresh. He wasn’t discounting getting justice for the O’Briens. They’d certainly waited long enough, and he hoped that he could link Barker to both sets of murders, but he had to focus on the now. Grabbing his laptop from his office, he was looking forward to seeing Barker’s face when he played the short clip for him. He’d have two officers standing at the back of the room just in case he flipped.

  He was too knackered to be fighting. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night when the taxi had dropped him off. He’d lain awake thinking about Morgan’s offer to stop at hers, trying to figure out if she genuinely meant sleep over on the sofa or had been offering more. He liked her a lot, but for now he was happy to be friends with her and he hoped she felt the same. He didn’t want to go jumping in with his size ten boots and make a fool of himself. He’d known Cindy since school; they’d been going out with each other since they were fourteen. She was all he’d known. If she’d been so unhappy with him, he would have gladly given her a divorce even though it would have broken his heart. He’d rather have let her go and find happiness somewhere else than choose dying over staying with him. All those times he’d come home late and she’d been drunk and asleep because she was lonely were too many to count. He blinked away the tears. He’d been a selfish bastard and he didn’t deserve a second chance at happiness. This was his life now, forever destined to be as lonely as he’d let Cindy be. He decided it was a wise decision not to stop at Morgan’s; she deserved more than he could give her and that made him sad. Taking a deep breath, he put it all to the back of his mind. His focus needed to be on doing what he knew he could do and that was catching killers.