Murder in Langley Woods

by Betty Rowlands

  ‘You asked for it!’ Melissa panted. She tried to dodge past him and make a dash for it while he was preoccupied with his injuries, but he was too quick for her. ‘Not so fast, gorgeous!’ he snarled, seizing her by one arm. ‘I’ll teach you to play games with me!’ He swung her round and aimed a blow at her with his free hand. She ducked to avoid it and her eye fell on a heavy brass doorstop. She grabbed it and swung it wildly at random, catching him a blow on the side of the head as he made a further lunge at her. With a startled grunt, he staggered backwards, tripped over a coffee table, fell to the floor and lay there groaning, apparently half-dazed, with blood oozing from a cut above one eye.

  Melissa was about to turn and flee the house while she had the chance, but the possibility that she had done him a serious injury made her hesitate. While she was considering whether she should call an ambulance, he rolled on to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. He put a hand to his face and then took it away, staring bemusedly first at the blood and then at Melissa. ‘Christ, what hit me?’ he muttered.

  Relieved that he did not appear seriously hurt, Melissa allowed herself a little smirk of triumph. She held up the doorstop which – somewhat to her surprise – was still in her hand. ‘This!’ she said, brandishing it in front of him, ‘and I’ll use it again if you give me any more trouble!’

  He raised an arm in a gesture of surrender. ‘Okay, okay, so I got the wrong idea. Put that away, for God’s sake.’ He dabbed again at the cut on his face, which was now bleeding more freely. ‘Look, get me a towel or something, will you? Julie’ll give me hell if I make a mess on the carpet.’

  Cautiously, still keeping an eye on him, Melissa put down her impromptu weapon. ‘Where will I find one?’ she asked.

  ‘Try the door at the end of the passage.’

  The door led to the kitchen, which had the same air of having just been spring-cleaned as the sitting-room. Melissa found some clean tea-cloths in a drawer, snatched one and hurried back to find Rocky in a sitting position on the floor, leaning against an armchair and wearing an expression of mortal suffering. He took the cloth and dabbed gingerly at the cut, then scrambled to his feet and stumbled towards the mantelpiece to peer into the mirror. ‘Hope this don’t leave a scar!’ he mumbled.

  ‘I doubt if it’ll spoil your fatal beauty, if that’s what’s worrying you,’ she retorted. ‘And just for the record, it’s nothing to what’s likely to happen to you if Hannah Rose’s menfolk get their hands on you.’

  Rocky stiffened; in the mirror, Melissa saw his mouth fall open and his eyes bulge. ‘What the hell do you know about Hannah Rose?’ he gasped.

  ‘Quite a lot,’ Melissa said quietly. She was aware that reaction was bound to follow the shock of the attempted assault, but for the moment she felt ice-cool and in total control. ‘You took her with you on a run to Eastern Europe last year, didn’t you?’

  Rocky turned round to face her, shaking his head like a swimmer trying to clear water from his ears and running a hand through his thick, carefully styled hair. ‘Christ! I need a drink!’ he said pathetically. He limped over to the sideboard, pausing on the way to massage his shins. He took out a bottle of whisky and a glass, poured a measure, tossed it back and poured another. As an afterthought, he waved the bottle in Melissa’s direction. In his consternation over this new turn of events, he seemed to have lost all animosity towards her.

  ‘Want one?’ he asked.

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘So what’s all this about Hannah?’

  ‘You know she’s been murdered?’

  At the word ‘murdered’ a subtle change came over Rocky. His eyes narrowed and his jaw set in a hard, pugnacious line. He lowered his head and glared at Melissa like an animal driven into a corner. ‘What’s that to me?’ he demanded. ‘You suggesting I did it?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she said hastily. ‘Two men have already been arrested, but that’s not going to satisfy Hannah’s relations. They blame you for her death because you took her away from the protection of her family. It’s your blood they’ll be after … that’s why I came here. I tried to tell you, to warn you—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, so you said.’ His expression took on a cunning, shifty quality that set the hairs rising on the back of Melissa’s neck. Until this moment, she had never even considered the possibility that he, and not the two men in custody, might be Hannah’s killer. Now, she was not so sure. Fighting back a threatened wave of panic, she backed slowly towards the door.

  ‘That’s all I wanted to say. Just keep your eyes open for any sign of strangers who might be taking an interest in you. I’ve explained to the police and they—’

  Mention of the police was a mistake. Shouting obscenities, Rocky charged. Melissa fled from the room and dashed across the hall, but before she could reach the front door he caught up with her and grabbed her round the waist. She screamed and he clapped a hand over her mouth. She sank her teeth into his thumb and with another oath he shifted his grip to her throat, squeezing so hard that she could barely draw breath. She lashed out backwards with one heel and jabbed her elbows as hard as she could into his stomach. He gave a gasp of pain and slackened his grip just enough for her to tear his hands an inch or two away from her throat. She let out another, half-strangled scream and reached frantically for the latch. Her fingers closed over it and she managed to drag the door open a fraction, but Rocky’s hand came over her shoulder and pushed it to. As it was on the point of closing there was a thud as something heavy landed against it from outside, forcing it ajar. A man’s booted foot appeared in the gap.

  ‘What the hell—?’ Rocky began.

  ‘Police!’ shouted the owner of the foot. ‘Open up!’

  The pressure on the inside of the door was abruptly released and it flew open. At the same instant, Rocky let go of Melissa. A man in jeans and an anorak stumbled across the threshold and cannoned into her. The head-to-head collision threw her sideways and she staggered back against the wall with her hands over her face, half stunned, bewildered and fighting for breath. She was dimly aware of shouts, grunts and gasps, the sound of a heavy fall and a slamming of doors, followed by silence. She lowered her hands and saw her deliverer rising unsteadily from the floor. Gingerly massaging his jaw, he turned to face her.

  ‘You okay, Mel?’ he asked, with a semblance of a grin.

  ‘Bruce! How in the world did you get here?’

  ‘Never mind that now … I’ve got to catch that bastard … he went out the back—’ Somewhere close at hand, a car started and drove off at high speed. ‘That’s him, he’s getting away!’ Bruce rushed outside, but was back a moment later, stabbing at the buttons on his mobile phone. ‘Police? This is an emergency. A woman has been attacked in number eight, Farm Villas, Carston. Assailant Rocky Wilkins, believed involved in the disappearance last year of murder victim Hannah Rose, escaped in a dark blue BMW—’

  Melissa listened in astonishment as he reeled off the details. When the call was finished she said weakly, ‘Would you mind explaining exactly …?’ She was unable to finish; the reaction she had anticipated during the scrimmage overtook her and she began shaking violently.

  Bruce put an arm round her shoulders, his face full of concern. ‘Mel, what is it? Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, not really,’ she said through chattering teeth, ‘just scared out of my wits.’ She leaned against him for a few moments, taking deep breaths, fighting off the threat of nausea. When she was steadier she said, ‘I couldn’t believe what was happening … all I did was try to warn him about Hannah’s people, but he thought I—’

  ‘Fancied him?’ said Bruce. ‘Yeah, I guessed as much.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Had a chat with Rosie in the Golden Bell. She thinks I’m your boyfriend, you’ve been bowled over by some sexy bloke you met there and I’m trying to win you back. Very sympathetic, she was … said I might find you here.’

  Melissa jerked away from him. ‘You mean you told her I’d fallen for that o
af?’

  Bruce laughed aloud at her air of indignation. ‘Not in so many words,’ he assured her. ‘Not my fault if she misread the situation, is it?’

  ‘Of all the cheek!’

  ‘Did the trick, though, didn’t it? Now, I think you could use a coffee before the police get here.’ He led her into the kitchen and bustled about, filling the electric kettle and poking into cupboards for what he needed while Melissa sat in a chair and attempted to sort her jumbled thoughts into some kind of order.

  ‘The last time I spoke to you, you’d just got back to your office and I said I’d call you there if I had any news,’ she said. ‘The next thing, you turn up here like the proverbial knight in shining armour to save me from a fate worse than death.’

  Bruce paused in the act of spooning instant coffee into a china mug decorated with poppies. ‘It could be a lot more serious than that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The two men the police were holding have been released without charge. The news came through just as I got back to the office and one of my colleagues reckons the truck driver who took Hannah away is the one who killed her – he’s thought so all along. I couldn’t be sure Rocky was the man, but I daren’t take a chance so I dropped everything … and here I am.’

  He put a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her and she picked it up and sipped it gratefully. ‘Mm, I needed that,’ she said. After a moment a thought struck her. ‘I believe your colleague could be right,’ she said slowly. ‘About Rocky being the killer, I mean.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘He took a bit of persuading that I wasn’t after his body, but once he got the message he quietened down. Then I said my piece about Hannah’s relations being out for his blood. He seemed disturbed by the fact that I knew of his association with her and might think he’d killed her, but I assured him that wasn’t the case … and then I started to say I’d warned the police of the possibility of an attack on him and he didn’t even let me finish … he just went berserk.’

  ‘When you mentioned the police?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And when I tried to shoulder my way through the door he tried to hold it shut until I pretended I was from the police. Then he let go and made a bolt for it. I tried to grab him, but he caught me off balance and clocked me one.’ Bruce fingered his jaw and winced at the recollection. ‘Yes, it figures. I wonder if he’s been picked up yet?’ He lifted his head at the sound of an approaching car. It pulled up sharply just outside; moments later there was a hammering at the front door. ‘That’ll be the Bill,’ he said, and went out into the hall. He was back almost immediately, accompanied by a young woman police constable and a stony-faced Detective Chief Inspector Holloway.

  Fifteen

  ‘Mrs Craig,’ said DCI Holloway. There was no need for him to add, ‘And what have you been up to this time?’ – his demeanour and tone of voice said it for him. He gave Bruce a hostile glance. ‘I’ll talk to you later, Ingram,’ he said curtly. ‘I don’t conduct interviews in front of the press.’

  ‘I’m here as a material witness—’ Bruce began, but Holloway made a dismissive gesture.

  ‘Later,’ he repeated.

  Bruce flushed and drew in a quick breath; for a moment, Melissa thought he was going to make an angry retort, but with an obvious effort he controlled himself and said, ‘All right, Mr Holloway, I’ll wait in the next room … but please bear in mind that Mrs Craig is still shaken after a very frightening experience.’

  ‘So I understand. I also know that Mrs Craig is a very resourceful and resilient lady.’ This time, there was a hint of grudging admiration in the detective’s voice.

  Melissa gave Bruce a quick, reassuring smile. ‘I’ll be fine, thanks,’ she said.

  Reluctantly, the reporter withdrew. When the door closed behind him, DCI Holloway sat down opposite Melissa while the young policewoman found a stool and perched, pen and notebook at the ready, alongside a Formica-covered work surface running the length of a bank of storage units with moulded doors in limed oak. The kitchen, like the sitting-room, was small but fitted out to show-room standards with top-quality equipment including a built-in oven, hob and dish-washer. It crossed Melissa’s mind that the business of a long-haul truck driver must be extremely lucrative.

  ‘If there’s anything you’d prefer to say privately to WPC Savage …’ Holloway began and Melissa felt her momentary annoyance at his dismissal of Bruce softening at this unexpected show of delicacy on his part.

  ‘No, it’s quite all right,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t so much a case of attempted rape, although I daresay it would have come to that if I hadn’t managed to fight him off … and no doubt he’d claim I encouraged him.’

  Holloway’s sandy eyebrows shot up. ‘Perhaps you’d like to clarify that last remark?’ he said stiffly.

  ‘I … it’s not easy to explain.’ Melissa found herself floundering. With hindsight, her tactics seemed slightly ridiculous. Yet the fact was, they had produced results. It was up to her to make them sound plausible.

  ‘I noticed Wilkins … I didn’t know who he was at the time … when I was in the Golden Bell last night, having a drink with … a friend.’ For the moment, she decided to keep Matt Waters’s name out of it. ‘There was something about him that interested me … he was almost the exact embodiment of a character for a novel I’m thinking of writing.’ She broke off as she caught the detective’s eye and read in it a hint of slightly scornful condescension. ‘I know this must sound odd to anyone who isn’t a writer—’

  ‘Please continue,’ he said, in a voice totally lacking in expression.

  ‘He was reading a newspaper and I was making a mental note of his features and the clothes he was wearing and so on,’ Melissa continued, increasingly aware of how eccentric she must sound to her unimaginative listener, ‘and suddenly he looked up and saw me watching him. He gave me a sort of come-hither look … so I turned away immediately,’ she added hastily, seeing the eyebrows at work again. ‘And then my friend came back with our drinks and I forgot about it for the time being.’

  ‘For the time being,’ Holloway repeated, as if the words held some inner significance. ‘But I assume you decided later on that this “character” as you call him was worth a little further investigation … in the interests of research for your novel.’ His tone carried a resigned acceptance of the universal truth that there is no limit to the oddities of human behaviour.

  ‘No, it wasn’t that.’ As concisely as possible, Melissa described the sequence of events in the pub: Rocky’s cheerful demeanour when she first noticed him: the reference during his conversation with Rosie to his recent absence from home, suggesting – with hindsight – that he might be a long-haul truck driver: his subsequent abrupt departure in apparent ill-humour. That morning, the E-FIT picture of Hannah in the centre pages of the previous day’s Gazette made her wonder if that was what brought about his sudden change of mood. ‘It was then that I decided to try and find out if he was the man Hannah Rose had run away with,’ she finished.

  ‘And at this point, you got in touch with a representative of the press.’ This time Holloway’s tone was accusatory. ‘It didn’t occur to you, I suppose, to come to us with the information?’

  ‘It wasn’t information as such … it was only a very long shot, and in any case, it wasn’t as if the man was a suspect. I simply wanted to find out if he had been involved with Hannah Rose and if so warn him to be on his guard against a possible attack from her family. I was – and still am – seriously afraid that they will do everything in their power to find the man who took her away from them, and punish him according to their own code.’

  ‘Yes, I understand you have been at pains to impress that opinion on Sergeant Waters.’ It was impossible to deduce from Holloway’s tone whether or not he took her fears seriously.

  ‘The fact is – as you know – that I have had contact with the murdered girl’s aunt … and I also happen to know so
mething about Romany customs.’

  Holloway made an impatient gesture. ‘Quite so. Let’s get back to the point, shall we? How did you come to be here, and exactly what happened after you arrived?’

  ‘I made some inquiries at the Golden Bell.’ Without risking further ill-concealed derision by revealing details of her conversation with Rosie, Melissa described briefly how she had intercepted Rocky outside his house, how he had misinterpreted her motive in approaching him, and the outcome of the brief struggle that took place as a result. ‘I was scared at first that I’d done him a serious injury,’ she confessed, ‘but he seemed more concerned about possible damage to his looks.’

  There was a stifled titter from WPC Savage that earned her a scathing glance from her superior officer. He turned back to Melissa. ‘And then what happened?’

  Shuddering slightly at the recollection, gingerly fingering her neck where Rocky had gripped her, Melissa described the truck driver’s reaction to her warning. ‘He as good as admitted that he knew Hannah, although he insisted he didn’t kill her. He was obviously uneasy to think I knew about his connection with her, but his attitude wasn’t threatening until I mentioned I’d spoken to the police.’

  ‘About your speculation concerning possible danger to whoever had taken the girl away?’

  ‘I never had the chance to tell him that. The word “police” was enough to make him lose his rag and attack me. If Bruce … Mr Ingram … hadn’t turned up when he did, I really think he might have killed me. As it was, he let go of me, took a swipe at Mr Ingram and made a bolt for it.’

  ‘I see.’ Holloway thought for a moment before saying, ‘Thank you, Mrs Craig, I think that’ll be all for now. If you’ll be kind enough to call in at Headquarters some time – say tomorrow – to sign your statement?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘I’ll see Ingram now. I suggest you go home and rest.’ For the second time since the start of the interview, he dropped his official manner and revealed a human face. ‘Or maybe,’ he added with a hint of a smile, ‘you’ll want to do some work on your novel, now that you’ve come across this interesting character.’