by Carole Pitt
Elizabeth was anxious to speak to some of the others and was about to put her off when she noticed a purple bruise on her cheek. 'Who did that?’
'That's none of your business. If you don't want to hear what I have to say, it's your loss.'
Elizabeth looked back at the farmhouse. Even with Lillian Fowler in residence, it was a better option than Lacroix’s caravan. ‘Come with me,’ she said.
Elizabeth pulled off the wellies and filled the kettle.
'I didn't expect this to happen,' Lacroix said, 'we're peaceful people.'
Elizabeth felt sorry for her. 'No one knows how they'll react in such a stressful situation. Emotions are heightened and it only takes one person to kick off for the rest follow,’ she said.
Lacroix touched her cheek and Elizabeth could see she was upset. 'Where's your sergeant?' she asked
'Trying to squeeze information out of your neighbours,' Elizabeth said. 'The sooner we're out of here the better. Things need to calm down before the eviction can go ahead. I’m hoping you’ll get a few days reprieve, or if you're lucky a few weeks.'
Lacroix gulped the tea, 'As we can’t fight this any longer, I'd rather go sooner than it go on and on. It's dragged on for years and I've had enough, it's time to start again.'
'Where do you want to go?' Elizabeth asked, suddenly aware of how she might feel in the same circumstances.
'A few of us are heading to Ireland. As for the others, I've no idea. I don't suppose they've decided, but one thing's certain, this community is broken for good and I'll miss it.'
Elizabeth heard a noise from upstairs. 'I better check on Mrs Fowler, would you mind making the tea?’
Lacroix got up. 'I better leave.'
'You said you wanted to talk. I'll only be a minute.'
Lillian Fowler was restless, she opened her eyes briefly and said she wanted to go back to sleep. Elizabeth wondered how much alcohol she'd consumed and whether to call a doctor. She checked her pulse. It was steady enough and decided against it. The woman would probably cause a scene and not thank her for the concern. She hurried downstairs only to find Lacroix wasn’t around. Elizabeth dug out her cigarettes and headed for the garden where she spotted Lacroix talking angrily on her phone. When she ended the call, she appeared visibly shaken.
‘Are you okay?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘I’m upset. We’re all unhappy. To make matters worse, your sergeant bumped into Jez and started interrogating him. Now Jez thinks he’s your prime suspect, which is preposterous. He might seem odd but I can assure you he's not a murderer.'
'Listen Anyas, as police officers we have to keep an open mind.'
'So you do suspect him?'
'I won’t answer that question but you can answer mine. How long have you had a relationship with him?'
'On and off for a while. Please stop harassing him. He can't cope with pressure.’
Lacroix was beginning to giving her a headache. 'Why would we do that?'
Lacroix stubbed out her cigarette. 'That's what cops do.'
'Okay, I got the impression he was holding back something important. Is that what you wanted to talk about?’
'l want to ask you not to question Jez if he's on his own. If he was at a police station he would have a solicitor with him.'
Elizabeth didn't believe that was the only reason she’d wanted to talk. Why was Anyas Lacroix involved with Jez when she could probably have any bloke she wanted? There was something more to their relationship. There was no doubt in Elizabeth’s mind that Lacroix was fiercely overprotective. She began to see how Lacroix would use her lover’s apparent vulnerability to stall any further questioning.
'You're out of touch with modern policing Anyas. We don't terrorise witnesses these days, it's usually the opposite way round.'
Lacroix's reasoning implied she was nervous about further interviews. Perhaps this was a set up, Jez might let something slip and she wanted to prevent that anyway she could. Maybe she had no choice, if she couldn’t trust Jez to keep his mouth shut. Elizabeth stayed silent, using the old detective’s trick of waiting until the other person couldn't help talking. It didn't take long.
'Jez started rambling to me but I couldn't make sense of any of it. He'd had a couple of drinks; combined with his meds it can cause some confusion. He can also fantasise or exaggerate, so it's not a good idea to believe everything he says. But he seemed excited, which seemed unusual.'
'What had excited him?' Elizabeth asked.
'He said he'd seen someone that he hadn't seen for a long time.'
'You told us he had no family, could it have been an old friend?'
Lacroix twisted a silver ring on her thumb. 'That's all he said, but it's worried me. If his hallucinations get worse they might section him, it's happened before and I don't want him in a psychiatric hospital indefinitely.'
'Did he mention this person again?'
'No. He was euphoric because he had a secret. A few months ago, he started reading true crime stories and spending ages on the Internet. I think he was trying to impress me with all this new knowledge he’d acquired.'
Lacroix had found love with this strange man. Elizabeth knew physical attraction knew no boundaries but Jez was a full time job and not everyone was up to caring for people like him. 'Let's find him, maybe he'll tell me his secrets.'
'I hope he does. I've lived here a long time and it was shocking when Carstairs found the body. It's unsettled all of us.'
'Most people everywhere find it shocking when a body turns up. Anyas, I want to find one of my officers and ask her to look after Mrs Fowler. Do you mind staying here for a few minutes?’
Lacroix shook her head. 'I’d rather not stay any longer under the same roof as that woman. Can't you phone one of them?'
Elizabeth had wanted to catch Patterson and tell him not to approach Moore and that Lacroix had hinted he’d seen someone but wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Elizabeth felt outmanoeuvred.
She locked the front door and slid the key through the letterbox. 'What's Jez up to now?' she asked Lacroix.
'Packing, he's surprisingly fastidious about certain things so he'll be taking his time.'
The place was eerily quiet. 'Where is everyone?' Lacroix said.
Elizabeth shaded her eyes and looked around. She was right. 'I suppose they’re all doing the same.’
'No, something’s wrong,' Lacroix answered. 'I know this place.'
Elizabeth watched as alarm turned to fear. Then they heard screaming. 'Hurry,' she shouted, charging ahead.
The sound was coming from the furthest corner of the commune. Elizabeth could see Patterson on his knees consoling a middle-aged woman. When she reached him she noticed the woman's blue tinged lips.'
'She's hyperventilating due to shock,' he said.
'What the hell's happened?'
'She and her son found Jez Moore stabbed inside the van.'
Elizabeth’s legs shook. She could hardly believe what Patterson had said. 'Jesus, are there any witnesses?'
'Not so far. I've rung Grayson, and phoned the paramedics for this woman. Her name is Marianne.'
A noisy argument distracted them. Lacroix was screaming at the uniformed officers, pushing against them. Patterson stood up but kept one hand on Marianne's shoulder and pointed to a young man sitting on the ground crying. That's Garrick, her son. They went to help Jez pack his stuff but he wasn't answering the door, which was unusual. They left and on the way to their own caravan, Garrick said he was worried and turned back. No reply again but the door was open. They found Jez on the sofa. Garrick thought he was still alive and tried to resuscitate even though he saw the stab wounds.'
Elizabeth spoke to Garrick. 'Did you see anyone suspicious?’
The boy was pale and his voice trembled. 'I didn’t. Jez had been inside all day. I don’t think Anyas had seen him, none of us had. That’s why I went back. Something seemed wrong.’
'So no one saw or heard anything?'
Garrick looked away
. 'No, they didn’t.'
Elizabeth looked beyond the paddock. 'How could anyone vanish this easily when the site was surrounded by miles of semi-open countryside? She’d predicted violence and now it had happened. A fight, probably, the culprit had to be another traveller, there was no other explanation.
Lacroix continued to scream and shout, insisting she see Jez. She pleaded with Elizabeth who ignored her and walked the short distance to the caravan. Jez lay on the velvet sofa, his eyes wide open. Elizabeth stared and for a moment, she thought she saw his mouth move, as if he was taunting her. 'You should have asked me the last time. Now it's too late.' She thought she heard him say.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The soothsayer is dead.
Only a fool would trust the justice system. The Crown Prosecution Service doesn’t always bring the guilty to court. Defence lawyers lie through their teeth in order to save their clients. Juries make bad decisions. Judges often end up compromised. These ponderously slow steps may never reach a lawful verdict, leaving the victim’s voice silenced forever.
I have tried to warn them.
Incompetence also plays a part. Too busy going around in circles and not seeing clearly what is in front of them?
So death rolls along unchallenged. One victim, then a second, then another makes three. How many more people will have to die?
If the hold-up over the land is temporary, allowing the police more time then the mystery will unravel. If the residents challenge the authorities, who knows what the outcome will be. Could fate intervene?
Time cannot erase events or impede progress forever. As the yesterdays fall away, the tomorrows will continue to hurtle towards us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Talk about taking people for granted, Elizabeth thought. Grayson had left Jessica Oakley to take over. Jessica was an old friend and she was pleased to see her. 'You shouldn't let Grayson mess you about,' Elizabeth said.
Jessica smiled. ‘I do what I’m told Liz, there’s no point arguing with the man.'
'It’s the same with Daly. He’s never happy whatever I do these days.'
Jessica laughed. 'He's still not as contrary as Grayson. Did he have any theories before he left?'
'He’s convinced Moore was involved in a fight and the stabbing was accidental. Tell me Jessica, how do you accidently knife someone?’
'Quite easily Liz, I'm not saying he's right but one wrong move during a fierce struggle, it can happen. I read up on a case in France where a couple were arguing about chopping vegetables a certain way. The kitchen floor was wet and when the husband tried to take the knife away from his wife, they both slipped. Problem was she didn't let go of it and fell on top of him. Fatal wound to the neck severing a major blood vessel and the trachea.'
Elizabeth shuddered. 'Thanks for the graphic description. Grayson shouldn’t be so specific on the cause of death before the autopsy?'
'I'm surprised he was. I’d rather not waste my breath talking about him. The sooner I get Moore back to the morgue the sooner you'll know.'
Elizabeth looked at the dark rain clouds on the horizon and hoped it there wouldn’t be another downpour. She slipped on protective clothing and followed Jessica. Inside the caravan, the harsh crime scene lighting had turned the blood from red to black. She was thankful that Grayson had left Moore in the same position and once more found herself almost hypnotised by his accusing eyes.
Jessica knelt down beside him to begin her preliminary examination.
Elizabeth crouched close by. 'According to his girlfriend he wanted to tell me something.'
'Have you any idea what?' Jessica asked as she prised away more of Moore's blood soaked t-shirt.'
'She hinted it was important but didn’t say what. I’m not sure I believe her, and if she did know, she won't tell me now. She blames me for what's happened.'
Jessica stood up and called in the photographer. 'I hope you won’t take what she said to heart.’
Elizabeth had but wasn’t going to admit it. ‘It should never have happened with cops all over the place. I still can’t believe no one saw anything. It’s mad.’
‘And it's too cramped in here. As soon as Ben's finished I'll get going.'
The lights had raised the temperature inside the caravan, combined with the closed windows the rising odour of decay made Elizabeth feel nauseous. 'I'll wait outside Jess.'
A few onlookers stood behind the cordon. She shouldn't totally condemn Grayson's theory. The tension on the site had risen to the point where tempers had already exploded. The farcical eviction process could have caused someone to snap.
Elizabeth took several deep breaths. Last night forecasters had predicted more floods at the end of April. Was that likely or just scaremongering? Better to plant the idea rather than an unexpected repeat of last December. She sniffed the air again and could almost smell the unrest. Could it erupt again? It was definitely possible. If it did, she’d need a bigger police presence.
Jessica tapped her on the shoulder. 'Will you be up late if I manage to finish?'
'I'm knackered. I haven't been sleeping well,’ Elizabeth said.
'You're very pale, tell me what's wrong?'
She hesitated before the words tumbled out. 'I've got osteoarthritis Jess; the doc's confirmed it, but I'm going to be fine, apparently it's not too horrendous, yet.'
Jessica dropped her holdall and hugged her so hard Elizabeth winced.
'Sorry, did I hurt you?'
'There are times when every damned joint hurts, but since I've started swallowing the medicine, things are definitely improving.'
Jessica reached out and patted her arm. 'Could have been worse, like rheumatoid, which is a bastard and so are the drugs. You could be having an acute spike, if you’re lucky it might not last long.'
'I'm okay now I know what it is. Lots of morbid thoughts for a while, wondering what was wrong with me.'
Jessica glanced at her watch. 'It's a shame I'm under orders from Grayson otherwise I’d come back to your place for a chat.'
Elizabeth laughed. 'I don't want any sympathy. We could try going out next week?’
'Really, between Grayson and Daly, I very much doubt it.'
'If I don't pick up the phone it means I'm out for the count. Text me instead, but translate the medical jargon first,’ Elizabeth said.
Before heading for the farmhouse, Elizabeth waited until the caravan was resealed. Whatever Jessica came up with it didn't alter the fact that Grayson's mind wasn't on the job. He was too eager to get away, which meant on this occasion she didn't trust his judgement. She was glad Jessica had taken over.
Elizabeth struggled out of the overalls, checked she had gloves and mouth swabs to collect a DNA sample from Lillian Fowler. On her way, she passed a small crowd of women comforting Lacroix. From what she could see and hear, they were performing some kind of ceremony. The pungent aroma of incense surrounded them. Lacroix wouldn't look at her never mind speak to her; she hurried away, distancing herself from the anger and the grief.
The farmhouse was silent as she opened the front door. It took a while to persuade Lillian Fowler to leave her bed. Stopping her from having another drink was even harder. She helped her downstairs and into the kitchen where she switched on the kettle and spooned instant coffee into a mug. She heard the front door open and couldn't believe she'd forgotten to lock it.
Daly yelled. 'It's me Liz, I watched you come in.'
‘Where the hell were you? I’ve lost count of the times I’ve rung.’
‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ Daly said. ‘I’m not in a very good mood.’
‘Haven’t you heard? Jez Moore is dead. Someone stabbed him.’
Daly seemed shocked. ‘No one told me when I parked up.’
‘Because everyone assumes you already know, so don’t blame other people. Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages.’
‘Had some important jobs to deal with,’ Daly said, looking em
barrassed.
‘Well you have another important job. I want this eviction postponed, before we have more casualties. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck here until it is.’
‘Okay, I’ll get on to it now. Were there any witnesses to this stabbing?’
‘Not that we know of. How anyone could have escaped without being seen is beyond me.’
‘Then it has to be a fight with one of the other travellers,’ Daly said.
Elizabeth was annoyed that Daly and Grayson had reached the same rapid conclusion. ‘Our eminent pathologist thinks the same as you.’
‘It makes sense Liz, whether you like the idea or not. I better get back to Cheltenham and make some calls. It might take a while to sort out the legalities to stop this eviction, so you’ll have to bear with me.’
Elizabeth stared at him. ‘You’ve only just arrived.’
‘Liz, you can’t expect me to sort this mess out from here. As for who could have stabbed Moore, what about this idea? Think about the geography around here. It takes roughly fifteen minutes to walk from here to the mobile home park. If you’re a fast runner, you could drastically cut that time down. That might explain the amazing disappearing act. There’s plenty of cover between the two camps so it’s possible the perp came from there. We know Blake and Howell are both a bit dodgy. If there was bad blood amongst the two communities, someone with a score to settle...’
Elizabeth interrupted. ‘I don’t wear that one either. These people might not get along but they’re not rival gangs who resort to killing each other just for the hell of it. I’ll agree there are weirdoes in both camps yet I still can’t see any of them being stupid enough to murder Moore with cops crawling all over the place like rats.’
‘Don’t mention rats,’ Daly said.
Elizabeth wondered if he was scared of them. ‘Have they taken up residence in your cottage?’
‘Err, a few living in that old garden shed.’ He paused, trying to contain his agitation. ‘We have to solve this stabbing before the media blow everything out of proportion. Send Patterson and Eldridge over to the mobile home park. We need samples from that Gerry Blake chap and Owen Howell, the bloke who does a bit of work for Carstairs. I’ve heard both of them aren’t averse to fisticuffs. Try and find out who else has visited Roxbury Farm recently.’