by Bill Kitson
‘Now that is really interesting,’ Nash responded, ‘not the circumcision bit, I mean the name and the vehicle type.’
He flipped over the notes he’d made. ‘One of the girls I spoke to described a punter named Eddie, but she knew a bit more. When they went back to her place he asked to use her bathroom. Apparently he told her he’d recently returned from India, where he’d picked up a stomach bug. That could be worth remembering, maybe we’re looking for someone who travels a great deal. Anyway, while he was otherwise engaged, she checked his wallet which had apparently “fallen on the floor”.’
‘How fortunate.’ Viv rolled his eyes, his disbelief obvious.
‘Yes, and luckily, she’s got a fairly good memory. She said his full name is Edward G Clarke and he lives in Bishopton, which is where Samantha Frost worked.’
‘I also talked to a woman who had a punter called Eddie,’ Lisa added, ‘but that was all she knew about him, same as yours, Viv.’
‘OK, now this looks like a live prospect to me,’ Nash said, his tone slightly more optimistic. ‘Viv, will you work your magic on the computer and find out everything you can about Mr Clarke while Lisa makes coffee. Meanwhile, I’m going to phone Jackie and tell we’ve identified one possible suspect. Before I do, though, is there anything else? Are there any other possibilities to consider?’
Both Andrews and Pearce shook their heads, signifying that neither of them had come up with alternative leads.
‘OK,’ Jackie said in response to the information Nash gave her. ‘I’ll leave it to you. The chief has all the facts and has given you more or less carte blanche. Make Mr Clarke the focus of your inquiries, and when the officers I’ve sent to the addresses of the other working girls have reported back, I’ll update you.’
* * *
Viv didn’t take long to report his findings. ‘All I could discover about Edward Clarke was the entry in the voter’s roll. That in itself is interesting. He lives at number 47 Rothwell Road, Bishopton, and is the sole occupier of that property. The part I said was interesting is that Rothwell Road is only a couple of streets away from where Samantha Frost lives. Clarke’s name doesn’t show up on the PNC, so he’s obviously never been convicted of a criminal offence, not even a motoring misdemeanour.’
‘That means little or nothing. Many of the worst offenders have no previous — otherwise, our job would be far simpler. We’re going to have to begin by paying Mr Clarke a home visit. Jackie has laid the facts before God, and she’s given approval for any action I deem necessary, and for us to concentrate on this case at the expense of any other enquiries we have running, which principally means what Lisa refers to as the “okra case”.’
Pearce was puzzled by the okra reference, so between them Nash and Lisa apprised him of the facts.
Given the potential gravity of their inquiry, all three detectives went to Clarke’s Bishopton address. There was no response to their knock, so they made enquiries of the neighbour on the immediate right of Clarke’s house. All the properties in Rothwell Road were similar, small semi-detached houses that reminded Nash of the old Pete Seeger song Little Boxes.
The woman who answered the door, who they later categorized as probably being the town gossip, was as informative as they could have wished for. ‘Poor Eddie, he spends as much time abroad as he possibly can these days. He tells me it’s because of the demands of his job, but I reckon that’s only an excuse, and the truth is that he doesn’t like to stay in the house for too long at a time, now that he’s alone. I think the place is too full of sad memories for him to cope with.’
She noticed their interested expressions, which was more than enough encouragement for her to continue. ‘Lynda, Eddie’s wife, was a lovely woman. She died a couple of years ago, and Eddie’s been like a lost soul ever since. I reckon it’s a mercy he has that job at Helm Engineering. It not only occupies his mind, but he’s no sooner finished one project than he’s off on his travels again, and ends up in some fairly exotic places. One week he’s off to India, then it might be any of a dozen African countries, even sometimes to South America or Australia; literally wherever they send him. I haven’t seen him for a week or two, so I reckon he must be away at the moment. To be honest, these days I’m more surprised when I do see him than when he’s absent, but Mrs Bagshaw across the way might be able to tell you more than me, except that she’s visiting her daughter in Leeds for a couple of days. Eddie leaves his spare house keys with her so she can look after the house when he’s off on his travels.’
She sighed dramatically and added, ‘I remember Eddie telling me it was a mistake to get romantically involved with anyone, because that way when one of them dies, the other one dies with them.’
They thanked the garrulous gossip and returned to the car. ‘I reckon that’s why Clarke uses call girls,’ Lisa suggested, ‘after having experienced such a sad loss, he’s frightened of the emotional upset of losing someone else close to him. So what do we do next, Mike?’
‘I think we should visit his employers and find out where Clarke is and what his travel itinerary has been over the period these girls went missing. If I go alone to talk to the MD at Helm Engineering, at least that won’t send as strong a message as it would if we all descend on him. That could be counter-productive if it gives his employers the impression that he’s suspected of some heinous crime. Clarke might seem to fit our profile in several ways, but I’m beginning to think we might be barking up the wrong tree here.’
His interview with the chief executive was brief but illuminating, if only in a negative way. ‘I’m here to check up on one of your employees,’ Nash began. ‘A vehicle similar to his was seen near the site of a series of incidents, so we’ve been tasked with checking the whereabouts of all such car owners on the dates in question, purely for elimination purposes.’ He explained who the employee was and gave details. ‘I tried at his house but there was no response, so a neighbour directed me here. She seemed to think he is away at present.’
‘Eddie Clarke? He’s not in bother, I hope. He’s very valuable member of our team here, and the poor man’s had more than enough to contend with over the past couple of years.’
‘No, like I said, this is purely a routine enquiry. If we know Mr Clarke’s work itinerary, it will enable us to rule him out of our investigation.’
‘OK, I’ll get his work rota from our technical director and we can compare that with your dates.’
When Nash emerged from the building, both his colleagues guessed that the outcome had been less successful than they’d hoped. After he climbed into the driving seat, Nash told them. ‘My feeling that we were following up a dead end was right. We can cross Eddie Clarke off our list of suspects — not that we have a list. He’s in South Africa at present, and has been since before Samantha Frost vanished. Clarke supervises the installation of heavy plant that Helm Engineering export worldwide. Added to the South African visit, he was in Canada when Janet Wilson disappeared and Italy at the time Brianna Fairburn went missing. Now I’ll have to tell Jackie the bad news — that we’ll have to start again from scratch.’
* * *
‘So we’re back to square one,’ Jackie said, once Nash had informed her that their prime suspect was no longer either prime or suspect. ‘Where do we go from here?’
‘Quite honestly, Jackie, unless something unexpected turns up or we get a further incident report, which I’m dreading, I haven’t the foggiest idea. Assuming the five women were all abducted and harmed by the same person, which I believe to be the case, where does he keep his victims? Unless he’s got his own private graveyard or crematorium, or drops them down a disused mine shaft, what does he do with them? I’m assuming that they’re all dead, but unfortunately that’s an assumption we have to make.’
‘Let’s hope for a miracle, then. I do have one piece of positive news. Those three women who hadn’t been accounted for have been traced and they’re all safe and sound.’
It might have been of some consolation,
but Nash regarded it only as cold comfort. The fact that those three were unharmed did little to offset the probable fate of the other five.
Chapter Sixteen
The school bus meandered through the dale, dropping pupils off at villages and farms alike, ending its run at Newton-on-Helm village, where it delivered the last two passengers.
They had just got off the vehicle which had brought them from Helmsdale Secondary School when Lee told his companion, ‘I’ve had an idea.’
Milly looked at her fellow pupil, her interest showing in the sparkle in her eyes. She had been friends with Lee for several years, long before his witnessing of the market muggings raised him to the status of a minor celebrity at school. For some time now they had wanted to be far more than just friends, but in a tiny village such as theirs, that was far from easy. Even had their purpose not been one of physical intimacy, their chances of being alone and unobserved were next to nil.
‘Tell me,’ Milly encouraged him, her tone one of suppressed excitement.
Lee pointed to the far end of the village, where the road beyond Milly’s house wound its way towards the head of the dale. ‘I reckon there’s a perfect place in Thornscarr.’
‘You mean one of the holiday cottages?’ That was a safe guess, because there was little else in Thornscarr other than the hotel, which at present still resembled a building site.
‘Why not? There’s one that fits the bill perfectly. I happen to know it’s habitable because I remember seeing an artist bloke who was staying there. He moved in last autumn, but I’ve been watching the cottage and I reckon he’s moved on. As far as I can tell, the house is empty. And because of its location, there’s no danger of anyone peering through the windows at us.’
‘How will we get in? Surely it’ll be all locked up, won’t it?’
‘No, that’s why it’s going to be dead easy. I had a look round yesterday evening. Someone’s left a window open on the ground floor. It’ll be a doddle.’
‘On Saturday, my Mum and Dad are off to Sheffield to see some eighties pop star who is appearing at the Arena. I’ve never heard of him, but apparently he was mega back in the day. Anyway, that means they won’t be back until the early hours of Sunday morning.’
‘Perfect. My Mum’s on nights this weekend, so it couldn’t be better.’
They looked at one another. Even the thought of what they were planning was beginning to excite them. As they parted outside Milly’s gate she touched his hand fleetingly. ‘See you tomorrow morning, Lee,’ her voice was a husky whisper. ‘And you will be prepared, won’t you?’
That and the touch of her hand were sufficient to set Lee wondering how he’d contain himself until then.
On the pretext of going to the library, on Saturday morning Lee caught the bus to Helmsdale. There he spent the best part of an hour deciding on his options while pacing up and down the High Street. He had two choices. The first was the supermarket, but he could be spotted at the checkout by people he knew, or even worse, who knew his mother. The thought of being seen buying condoms scared him witless. The chemist was another matter. As he reached for the handle, he’d looked through the glass door and seen an attractive young woman serving at the counter and lost his nerve, hence the pacing. At lunchtime he saw the female assistant leave the shop. One quick peek was all it took to spot a man serving and Lee was in. He tried to sound as if this was a purchase he made regularly, tried not to stammer. It was fortunate he did not see the smile on the face of the chemist when he left.
When he reached home, he stammered again when his mother enquired why he was carrying the same library book. He wasn’t sure she believed his excuse: that it was so good, he wanted to read it again.
* * *
The arrangement was for them to meet up outside the holiday cottage at 7.30 on Saturday evening, by which time Lee hoped that his mother would have given him his tea and set off for work. His parents were divorced, and his mother worked as a nurse at Netherdale General. Although she alternated shifts, this weekend she was on night duty. As their house was directly opposite the village pub, any attempt to sneak Milly in and out was fraught with danger. In a village where everyone knows everyone else, and the favourite pastime is gossip, a chance sighting would cause wagging tongues to go into overdrive. It wasn’t that Milly’s parents disapproved of Lee, or that Lee’s mother frowned on his friendship with Milly, but all three of them would have taken exception, in the strongest terms, to how they were planning to spend the evening.
Saturday seemed to pass slowly for both of them. Once Milly had waved her parents off in the late afternoon, she spent an hour getting ready, ensuring she looked her best. The fact that Lee saw her every day on the bus and at school never crossed her mind. Once she was satisfied, she spent further hours wandering around the house, occasionally pausing to switch the TV on, only to switch it off a few minutes later, unable to settle to anything.
For Lee, the nervous anticipation was equally stressful. He bolted his tea, before waiting anxiously for his mother to finish hers and set off for work. Eventually, after what seemed far longer than most weeks, she was ready.
‘Will you be all right?’ she asked.
Lee smiled, she asked the same question every time she left him alone, despite the fact that he was now over sixteen. Only just, but in his mind that made him an adult. ‘Yes, Mum, I’ll be fine.’
‘Is there anything on telly for you to watch?’
‘There’s a film on, and footie.’
She reached out and caressed his cheek. ‘I hate having to leave you on your own on Saturday night. You know that, don’t you? I wouldn’t do it if we didn’t need the money.’
‘I know that, Mum, don’t worry about me. I’ll be OK.’
She kissed him and rumpled his hair.
Controlling his impatience with an effort of will that was almost painful, Lee waited after his mother’s car drew away. It was by no means unknown for her to return a few minutes following her original departure, having forgotten some essential item. Her reading glasses were the favourite to be left behind, but Lee had taken the precaution of reminding her about them shortly before she set off.
When he was certain that she wasn’t about to reappear, he sent Milly a text telling her he was on his way to Thornscarr. He grabbed his torch before he switched the hall light off, then slipped quickly out of the front door and locked it behind him. It would be just his luck to be found out if someone were to break in and steal something, or even if a neighbour knocked on the door, wanting to borrow a cup of sugar, or something equally trivial. He edged along the pavement, head down and keeping close to the wall, to lessen the chance of any early-evening drinkers catching sight of him. The April evening was starless and with a cloud covering, so by the time he reached the holiday cottage, the darkness was almost total. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Lee could make out the shape of the drystone wall alongside the cottage gate, a darker mass in the darkness surrounding it. He was slightly startled by a sudden movement as Milly emerged from alongside the wall.
Lee put his arms around her, clasping her in the embrace he’d dreamed about for so long. As he did so, he thought he could feel her body tremble — or was it his? ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘I mean, are you up for it?’
Milly put her hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head forward to kiss him. ‘I am now.’
‘Let’s get inside.’
They held hands as they walked slowly down the path.
‘Over there,’ Lee gestured with his free hand, unwilling to let go of her for even a second. ‘On the left of the front door, there’s a small window I think must be the hallway. I brought a torch for when we’re inside, because I guessed the electric would be off, or it might be one of those prepayment meters. In any case, it would be too risky putting the main lights on. I checked their advert online and there are two double bedrooms.’
‘Oh good.’ Milly squeezed his arm. To have thought all that out, gone to all that troubl
e, it showed how much he wanted her.
The window was not so much open as off the catch. It was reluctant to move, the wood swollen against the frame. Eventually, with both of them at work, they managed to get their fingers under the lower sill and push it up. Then Lee climbed inside and pulled the window down behind him. He turned to the door, let Milly in, and then closed it quietly. The chance of anyone disturbing them was remote, but better not take any risks.
‘We should check the place out first. Make sure no one’s staying here.’ Lee flicked his torch on, and taking hold of Milly’s hand, guided her along the passageway heading for the lounge door.
Milly was the first to notice it. ‘Ugh!’ she exclaimed. ‘What’s that smell?’
Lee sniffed. ‘Dunno, but it’s a horrible pong.’
Lee strode across the hall and opened the door opposite the lounge, revealing the cottage’s dining room. The smell was much stronger in there. Without conscious thought, Lee stepped inside. Milly followed, albeit reluctantly. This wasn’t going to plan, wasn’t what either of them had hoped for. Lee pointed the torch beam towards the back of the house, highlighting a door. ‘I guess that’s the kitchen, and I bet that’s where the stink’s coming from. Probably the last tenant left something to go bad.’
He walked towards the door. Milly hung back. Suddenly she felt afraid. Partly because of what they were planning to do, partly because they had already broken into someone else’s property, but mainly due to an unidentifiable dread of what might be on the other side of that door. Which was nonsense, she told herself, probably it was as Lee had said, that the last tenant had been too idle to take the rubbish out or empty the fridge.
Except that this smelt worse than rotting food. Far worse.
Lee had paused by the kitchen door, and in the backlight from the torch, Milly could see that his head was bent, as if he was listening.
‘What is it?’ she whispered.
‘I thought I heard something. A noise. Coming from in there.’