by Bill Kitson
One of the couple, the male, who had been seated with his back to Nash, stood up and turned to face him. Nash’s jaw dropped as he stared at the features that had become familiar to him and to many millions of television viewers and newspaper readers. The chief constable, who was clearly enjoying the drama, continued, ‘This is Donny Barton, and the lady is Mrs Kim Nelson.’
Barton’s companion, an attractive woman in her late twenties, struggled to rise from the chair and turned to be introduced. Kim Nelson was clearly heavily pregnant.
The astonishment Nash felt was reflected both in his expression and the less-than-diplomatic nature of his response. ‘I thought you were dead — both of you.’
He turned to the chief constable and continued, ‘That’s obviously not the case, so whose are the two sets of human remains Andrews and Pearce have just found in the piggery at Keeper’s Cottage?’
It was the turn of the others to stare at Nash in amazement. After several seconds, the chief constable broke the stunned silence. ‘I thought you only found part of the other missing prostitute?’
‘That was the case when I left Thornscarr, ma’am, but while I was driving here, DC Andrews phoned to say they’d discovered two more sets of remains and the rest of Samantha Frost.’
‘There must be two more of Nelson’s victims we haven’t yet accounted for,’ O’Donnell responded.
Chapter Twenty-three
Nash looked at Donny Barton. ‘I’m still struggling to understand this. We were convinced that Nelson had killed you both and then staged the crime scene at Track End Cottage to implicate you in the murders of those prostitutes. What I’d like to know is how you managed to escape him?’
It was Kim Nelson who provided the answer. She took her seat and, speaking for the first time, she told Nash, ‘We were extremely lucky. Elijah claimed he was going away for a week. Obviously, he suspected that Donny and I were attracted to each other and lied to me to try and trap us. I found out the truth by chance from one of the assistant keepers, who said Elijah would only be gone for three days. Knowing what Elijah was like, I panicked and pleaded with Donny to leave, go home, and to take me with him if he wanted to. The morning I believed Elijah was due to return we grabbed what we could carry and caught the Dales Bus into Helmsdale, then took another one to Netherdale, got on a train to London and then flew out from Gatwick to France. I daren’t stay in England; I was terrified Elijah would try to find me. We’ve been in France ever since. That was until we saw an English newspaper with Donny’s photo plastered all over the front page along with that ghastly story of those poor women. Donny knew he had to come back to clear his name, and I had to come with him, despite the risk. I got the local doctor’s permission to fly, and we took the first available flight. We were arrested when we landed at Manchester.’
‘I take it you two are an item?’ Nash indicated Kim’s condition.
Barton took Kim’s hand as he replied. ‘We certainly are. Kim said we were lucky, but it’s me who’s the lucky one. Kim is the best thing that could have happened to me.’
Kim blushed and looked adoringly at her lover.
‘Then I think it’s in order for me to tell you, Mrs Nelson, that your husband was shot and killed this morning while trying to avoid capture.’
Kim nodded. ‘The chief constable has already told me, but thank you, Inspector Nash. I think he got not only what he deserved, but what he wanted.’
Before Nash had chance to ask further questions, his mobile rang. He glanced at the caller display before telling the chief, ‘This is DC Andrews. I just hope she hasn’t phoned with more bad news.’
O’Donnell nodded approval for Nash to leave the room and answer the call.
‘Professor Ramirez has inspected the remains found in the boot of the BMW,’ Andrews began, ‘and he reckons that they can’t be those of Barton and Mrs Nelson, because these victims have been dead for much longer than six months. I’m afraid that means we’re still looking for two more bodies.’
Andrews’ use of the pathologist’s formal title suggested he was standing close by.
‘No, we’re not,’ Nash replied, ‘because they’re here.’
‘Who are?’
‘Mr Barton and Mrs Nelson. They’re here with the chief constable and I’m delighted to report that they’re both alive and well.’
‘That’s terrific news.’ The relief in Andrews’ voice was evident. ‘But we still don’t have the foggiest idea who the victims in the BMW were.’
‘We might get a clue if we can discover more about the vehicle. The registration or VIN numbers would be a great help.’
‘OK, I’ll text it through to Tom Pratt, shall I? One thing I can tell you is that the car is in almost showroom condition and has only done just over six thousand miles. That might have been a long time ago because there’s a tax disc on the windscreen with the expiry date of July 1997.’
‘That would make sense, because August used to be when the new registration prefixes came in.’
‘One other thing, Mike, Professor Ramirez would like a word. I’ll pass you to him, because I’m wanted back inside that hellhole of an outbuilding.’
Seconds later, the pathologist spoke. ‘I have more information on the remains found in the car. Although I’ve only had chance to conduct a preliminary investigation, I can confirm that they are the bodies of one male and one female. The remains are skeletal in nature, and the female one isn’t quite complete. I believe the missing segments are the two digits that were found in the hotel near here, and which are now lodged in my mortuary. Hang on, Mike, DC Andrews is back and would like another word with you.’
Nash thanked him and waited. ‘Sorry, Mike, but we’ve just made another discovery. There’s a chainsaw underneath the car. It’s absolutely smothered in what the CSI blokes confirmed to be human blood.’
‘I see, is there anything else to report?’
‘Only those diaries from the BMW, but you already know about those, don’t you?’
‘What diaries?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry: we must have found them after you left. There were two diaries secreted in the glove compartment of the BMW. CSI have taken possession of them now.’
‘We’ll need to inspect them ASAP. They could be vital in piecing together exactly what happened and when.’ As he spoke, Nash noticed the chief constable’s secretary wince at his unintentional pun.
‘That’s as may be, Mike, but you know how touchy CSI are these days about contamination of evidence — especially after that unfortunate incident a couple of years back.’
Nash recalled the case, which involved a prosecution for theft that collapsed because the defence alleged that the evidence had been contaminated and tampered with prior to analysis. ‘OK,’ he told Andrews, ‘we’ll have to be patient until they release them, but ask them to ensure that those diaries are their first priority.’
After he put his phone away, Nash returned to the room and stood for a moment without speaking. Kim Nelson was about to say something but, knowing Nash of old, the chief constable held up a warning hand. She was aware that he could produce a piece of deductive reasoning. Nash remembered his conversation with Jonas Turner and the old man’s comments regarding the events that preceded Aaron Nelson’s suicide.
“What puzzled me then, and allus ’as, is ’ow come nobody’s seen ’ide nor ’air of Elijah’s mother since the day Aaron told everyone she’d scarpered wi’ ’er fancy man. That were weird too, almost like ’e were trying t’ convince folk that were what ’appened. Elijah’s never ’eard or seen ’is mum either. Now that’s not reet. She were fond enough o’ t’ lad when ’e were a nipper, so ah’d ’ave thought she’d ’ave come running when she learned what happened to ’is father, wouldn’t you?”
After a long silence, Nash turned to Kim Nelson and asked, ‘Did your husband often mention his mother? Did he know where she’d gone or who she was with?’
Kim’s reply was immediate. ‘No, he never spoke about her. The
re were no photos of her, or his father, for that matter. I knew that his father had killed himself after she left, but that’s all. On the one occasion I did ask, Elijah flew into a terrible rage and became extremely violent, so I never dared mention the subject again.’
Nash glanced at the chief constable and saw the look of dawning horror on her face.
‘Would you mind stepping into the other room for a moment, ma’am?’
The chief followed Nash through the door. ‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ she pleaded. ‘Tell me it isn’t what I think.’
Nash shrugged. ‘It’s only a theory, ma’am, but it does fit with what little we’ve found so far. We believed Elijah Nelson had killed his wife and her lover in a fit of jealousy and then went on to kill those prostitutes. However, what if our thinking is a generation out? It might well transpire that those remains in the car belong to Aaron Nelson’s wife and her lover.’
He repeated the gist of what Jonas Turner had told him before continuing, ‘Perhaps the father killed them and dismembered their bodies before committing suicide because he couldn’t live with the guilt of what he’d done. And possibly young Elijah discovered the truth after his father’s death. Then, if he suspected his wife was also having an affair, he decided to emulate his father. Fortunately for them, Kim and Donny evaded him, so he took his vengeance out elsewhere. We might never know for certain, but I’ve a shrewd idea that when we inspect some diaries that Andrews and Pearce found in the BMW, we might learn a lot more about what went on all those years ago.’
‘They might not contain anything significant,’ the chief constable pointed out.
‘That’s true, but if they don’t, why would anyone go to the trouble of secreting them in a place they were extremely unlikely to be found?’
They returned to her office and thanked the Manchester officer, who de-arrested Donny and Kim before departing to collect his colleague from the canteen and head home. The chief constable asked Nash what he thought would be the best way to handle Donny and Kim’s delicate situation.
Nash smiled at the couple. ‘I think it would be advisable for you to stay close at hand for the time being,’ Nash explained. ‘If you’re content to remain incommunicado in a hotel suite, I think that would be the safest solution.’ He turned to the chief. ‘That way, they’ll be protected from prying eyes, which will avoid potential embarrassment, if not worse. Given the immense amount of publicity this case has attracted, there is a very strong possibility of someone recognizing Donny, jumping to the wrong conclusion, and making trouble for them. Of course, once we’re in possession of the full facts, we should hold another media conference as soon as practicable to explain the changed situation.’
O’Donnell and the young couple agreed to the idea and Nash left her to make the arrangements.
‘I’m going to see if Tom Pratt’s got any news about that BMW, and then I’m off to Helmsdale to meet up with Viv and Lisa. I feel sure they must be nearly finished at Thornscarr; it’s getting dark. Given the remoteness and the location of Keepers Cottage, perhaps you could also liaise with uniform branch, ma’am, suggesting that it would be advisable to have at least two officers on duty until CSI declare it free of a crime scene. The last thing we need is the media or ghoulish voyeurs invading the site.’
‘Very good, sir,’ O’Donnell agreed mockingly, ‘and as soon as possible, you should get off home. You’ve had an extremely long and stressful day — coming on top of a load of long and stressful days.’
Nash took the stairs and headed down to find Tom Pratt, who was seated at his desk when Nash walked in. He picked up a thin sheaf of papers which he handed to the detective. ‘That car was at the centre of a huge, hitherto unsolved mystery dating back twenty years,’ Tom told Nash. ‘The owner worked for a brokerage firm on the London stock exchange and was reckoned to be one of their rising stars. He told colleagues that he needed a break from the stressful daily routine of the job and took a fortnight’s leave. Neither he nor the car was ever seen again. The assumption was that he’d suffered some form of mental breakdown and either committed suicide or begun a new life elsewhere. As the man was an orphan, there were no estate problems to sort out, so the matter died a natural death.’
Nash winced at Tom’s final remark. ‘What a very sad story, especially now we’ve an idea what really happened to him. Thanks for that, Tom. I’m off to Helmsdale now. With luck Viv and Lisa will have finished soon, and I’ll get an update from them.’
It was nearly seven o’clock when the two detective constables walked into CID at Helmsdale, having advised Nash that they were en route. The stress of what they’d witnessed was visible in their expressions. Nash gave them a brief update on events at Netherdale, including the mystery surrounding the BMW and its owner. In return, they told him what had been discovered in Keeper’s Cottage following his departure.
Andrews began the account, ‘The house was a tip. Nelson either didn’t know how to look after himself or he’d totally lost interest. The kitchen and sitting room were filthy, and there was a layer of dust covering every item of furniture. It was so thick you could write your name in it — probably in triplicate. There were pans and crockery in the kitchen sink with green mould growing on them and the fridge had food inside that was covered in fur. I didn’t go upstairs, I gave that pleasure to Viv, but apparently that was even worse.’
‘It certainly was,’ Viv grimaced as he took up the tale. ‘Lisa’s definitely not guilty of exaggeration. The dust was equally bad, but that was by no means the worst part. The bath was half full of unwashed, sweaty clothing and the whole room smelled of rank body odour. However, the bedroom at the back of the house, the one overlooking the woods, was absolutely sickening. The stench in there was even worse and there was a double bed that obviously hadn’t been changed for ages. The sheets were covered in all sorts of stains and blotches. The CSI boys conducted some on-site tests and reported that they comprised semen, urine, vaginal fluid, and faecal discharge. Further tests will have to be made to establish whether, as they so tactfully put it, the samples are “single source or mixed donor.” And that wasn’t all. There were also lengths of rope that appear to have been used to hold victims captive, because CSI found traces of skin and blood on them. All in all, it was one of the most revolting scenes I’ve ever witnessed, apart from that charnel house at Track End Cottage. The press were already assembling in the main road when we left.’
Nash snorted. ‘Mexican Pete reckons I’ve got a nose for blood but theirs is even keener.’
Once Viv had finished his graphic description of the bedroom, Lisa told Nash, ‘I passed your message about the diaries to the CSI blokes and they promised to have them available ASAP. Said they’d ring when they’ve finished with them, but they reckon it will take days to process the whole site at Thornscarr. They wanted to know if you need them sent here or if they’re to remain in Netherdale.’
‘When they do phone, ask if they’ll deliver them to the chief constable’s office. Now go home, both of you. It’s been a highly stressful day, and I for one am dead beat, so I suggest you must be feeling as bad. In fact, those are the chief’s instructions.’
Chapter Twenty-four
The next few days were spent revisiting the crime scene, reading statements taken by officers from the estate workers and builders at the hotel, writing reports, and fielding enquiries from the press. ‘Don’t these people know we have a press officer,’ Nash snapped. ‘Tell Netherdale to stop putting calls through unless they ascertain the identity of the caller first.’
Nash had interviewed Donny Barton and Kim Nelson, taking their statements and confirming that the press would be informed of Donny’s innocence. The work seemed endless, before a forensic officer rang to say the diaries had been delivered to the Chief Constable’s office.
‘Good, because I’m going to Netherdale tomorrow.’
When Nash entered the chief constable’s office the following morning, he was later than she’d anticipated. O’Donnell h
ad already completed her study of the first of the diaries, and was almost at the end of the second, by the time he arrived.
She looked up in response to his greeting and stared at him for a moment. ‘My word, you look tired this morning.’
‘It’s been a long week and several short nights. Are those the diaries from the piggery? Is there anything relevant in them?’
‘I’ve already skim-read the first of them. It was written by the father, Aaron Nelson, and is dated 1997. The contents more or less confirm what you already suspected. You were right in guessing that his wife intended to leave him. She had fallen in love with the owner of that BMW, who was a regular visitor to the hotel. Their relationship had developed far beyond that of a prostitute and her client, and when Nelson found out, he was consumed by rage and jealousy. Reading between the lines, her decision to leave was less to do with a grand consuming passion and more because she was terrified of Nelson. He reveals all this in the diary, and when she announced that she was going, she told him he was a sick, sadistic pervert. That was too much for him, so he strangled her. Then, to cover his tracks, he also killed her lover and then chopped their bodies up in the hotel kitchen before putting them into the storeroom. Once the coast was clear, he moved the dismembered remains into the man’s BMW and hid the car in the disused piggery. Then he started having nightmares in which the bodies re-formed and haunted him. He announced in the diary that the torment was such that he dare not go to sleep until he had consumed a huge amount of alcohol, but eventually that became insufficient to keep the demons at bay. When he realized that it had become too much for him, he decided to do away with himself. That is the final entry.’
‘What’s in the second diary?’
‘That was written by Elijah Nelson, and is even more shocking than that of his father. It covers several years, as though he only made an entry when he felt it worth noting. In it, he tells how he in his childhood he had seen Squire Harland cavorting at the Boar’s Head with his mother. Didn’t your friend Jonas Turner imply the hotel had been used as some sort of house of ill repute?’