by Lisa Cutts
Searching in my coat pocket for my car keys, I found the piece of paper June Lloyd had passed to me. I took it out and read the handwritten scribble. Parish Church of All Saints, tomorrow, 9am–1pm. June
There was no suggestion that I would not be going to see her. It was a church, a public place, and she’d given me a window of four hours. I put the note inside my warrant card as I was guaranteed not to lose that, took my keys out and got into my car. I checked the back seat and the boot first. Never take chances.
Inside the car, with the central locking activated, I called Bill.
‘Hello?’ he said.
‘Hi, Bill, it’s Nina.’
‘Hello. You just finished?’
‘Yes, just about to leave the nick. Been another long day. How about you?’
‘Not too late for me today. Caught up on a few things.’ There was a slight pause, and I was about to speak when he asked, ‘Still fancy going for that drink some time?’
‘Definitely. Not sure when, though – we’re working such long hours and you don’t want me on my knees in front of you.’ I slapped myself on the forehead as I said this. Never mind Wingsy messing things up; I was doing a great job all on my own.
Bill chuckled and said, ‘I’m free for the next three or four nights but then I’m on late turn for a couple of days. You just let me know when you can meet up.’
‘OK. I’ll see what’s going on in the morning and I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘Sounds ideal, Nina. Speak to you tomorrow.’
‘Goodnight.’
Throughout the drive home I planned where Bill and I might end up on our date. I didn’t mind the cheaper chain pubs but even at the best of times the clientele did resemble the Star Wars cast. Bill didn’t strike me as the wine bar sort either, so a quiet local pub would be my preference. I wasn’t really paying attention to the journey, merely enough not to cause an accident. At some point, though, I realised that the car behind had been keeping up with me for some time. Annoyed with myself for not having paid more attention, I indicated right, took the turn and headed for the roundabout. The vehicle behind did the same.
Reaching the roundabout, I indicated right again, as did the driver tailing me. On the roundabout, I turned full circle to the fourth exit back to where I’d come from, forcing the other car either to do the same, or give up on me. He chose to take the third exit. Still unsure whether it was my imagination or not, I considered following the car and getting the registration number. But the thought of a glass of wine almost made me salivate, so I headed home instead.
Chapter 31
25th September
The day began with a promising blue sky, and could almost have been a summer’s morning even though it was late September. That, at least, lifted my spirits. Despite sleeping well, I was feeling a bit worn out. I’d woken up with the sense that something was wrong, before calling to mind my mystery number one fan roaming the land with a camera sending me a potted history of my life. Oh, and I’d drunk a bottle of Merlot the night before.
I couldn’t afford to feel tired. My days off were not even on the horizon, and that was if I didn’t have to work through them. Making myself a cup of tea, I glanced out of the kitchen window at the garden. It backed on to a wood. Its seclusion was one of the things that had attracted me to the house in the first place, but the borders needed so much work to get them up to scratch, not to mention the maintenance. I never seemed to have the time to spend weeding and digging. I told myself it was a wildlife habitat. Even the shed seemed depressed. Dismissing any ideas of spending my next few days off pruning, I got ready for work and drove to the Incident Room.
Laura was in the meeting room when I got there. She looked poised and elegant in a black, well-cut suit, her mane of hair draped on her shoulders; even without any make-up she glowed. Just as well she was my mate or I could have taken a real dislike to her. Making sure she had a notebook and a quick rundown of where everything was, I took a seat next to her and we waited for the others.
Pierre was one of the first to wander in. He came over to introduce himself to Laura and sat the other side of her. If he hadn’t already told me he was gay, I’d have really been hacked off; I could have sworn he was flirting with her. I decided not to let it upset me. Who was jealous of their fantastically attractive friend being spoken to by a gay colleague? That would be really childish. I decided that by the end of the briefing I’d be over it.
I was grateful for the brevity of the meeting. A number of officers had lots to say, including us, and we were told to keep it snappy. DCI Nottingham made it clear it wasn’t because he didn’t want to listen but if fifty people were each going to talk for twenty minutes, nothing would get done. In as few words as possible, everyone was brought up to speed.
Having recovered from my internal tantrum regarding Laura and Pierre, I was pleased to be told I was working with Wingsy again that day. We were to speak to Jake Lloyd straight after the briefing. First Danny and I told the packed room what we had learned from Donald and June, including Donald’s sorry tale of his good intentions in trying to reform a burglar, that had backfired so badly.
‘One other thing, sir,’ I added. ‘June Lloyd slipped me a note last night asking me to meet her at her church today. Can I go there first?’
‘Yes, you can,’ Nottingham said. ‘Leave the details with Ray. Ray’s joined us today for a couple of weeks.’ He jabbed his pen in the direction of a man in a long-sleeved blue shirt, fiddling with the lanyard around his neck. Ray raised his hand a few inches from the table and smiled at the gathered mass.
Another few minutes and that morning’s resumé of events was finished. Laura and I headed to the ladies’. After checking the cubicles were empty, I told her, ‘I’ve only got a date with Bill Harrison.’
Her face broke into an enormous grin. ‘He’s such a nice fella, Nin. Where are you going?’
‘Don’t know yet. He’s asked me out, don’t know where or when. Said a drink somewhere. Bloody hell – he does drink, doesn’t he? You don’t think he meant a coffee?’
Laura threw her head back and laughed. ‘I think everyone knows you like a glass of wine or ten. Don’t think he would have asked you out if he was teetotal.’
‘Perhaps it’s a challenge for him – he may be trying to reform me. Be wasting his bloody time.’ My turn to laugh. ‘Listen, mate, catch up later – got to go to church then on to see Jake Lloyd. Take care.’
I left her in the toilets and found Wingsy, talking to Catherine and Ray. Catherine was running her hands down over her hips, saying, ‘Well, I think I’ll have to take the dress back. It’s too revealing, see.’
Wingsy looked fit to burst.
Ray said, ‘Don’t be hasty, Catherine. We’ll be the judge of that.’
‘Hate to interrupt you all,’ I said, ‘but here’s the address I’m going to. Wingsy, you coming with me? We can go straight to Jake’s from there.’
At the church, I went inside, leaving Wingsy in the car. He was sulking after I told him I’d clocked him checking out Catherine’s cleavage. Couldn’t say that I held him fully responsible: she had been flirting with Ray, whereas Wingsy had seemed to be an innocent bystander. As innocent as a heterosexual male could be when confronted with an enormous bust.
The sun went in as I entered the church. Inside it was poorly lit, and the musty smell hit me as soon as I walked through the door. While I stood growing accustomed to the gloom, the sun came back out and shone through the stained glass windows. Particles of dust danced in the air.
The sound of footsteps on the stone floor made me look to my right. A smiling black woman in her early twenties was walking towards me. She held a large flower arrangement in her hands.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘I’m looking for June Lloyd. Could I speak to her?’
‘Course you can,’ she replied, putting the oasis down on to a nearby trestle table. ‘She’s in the office. Is she expecting you?’
‘Yes, but we didn’t agre
e an exact time,’ I said.
‘Follow me,’ she said, leading the way to a wooden door, set in the recess beside the last row of pews. She put her head round it and said, ‘A young lady here to see you, June.’
She opened the door fully to reveal June sitting behind a desk with a phone to her ear. June waved at me to join her. Thanking the flower arranger, I went into the office, closing the door behind me.
June was mid-flow and said into the receiver, ‘I know that you’ve helped us out with the typing, but listen, dear, this new slogan from the church reads “I’ve upped my pledge – up yours”. Listen, I’ll call you back later, I have a visitor.’
June hung up and stood to shake my hand. ‘Thank you for coming to see me, Nina. I’ve kept a secret for a very long time, but now I think the truth should come out.’
Chapter 32
Waiting patiently for June to speak, I stood completely still. But when she remained quiet I felt compelled to say something in case the intense stare I was giving her wasn’t evidence enough of my interest.
‘What truth, June?’
‘There’s really no point in asking that this not go any further, is there?’ she asked.
‘No.’ I shook my head to underline the point. ‘Not in a murder enquiry. What did you ask me here to tell me?’
‘The night that Scott hanged himself – or maybe I should say the night he died – hours before we received the news, I had gone to Diane’s house.’ June fiddled with the notepad on the desk in front of her. ‘She was burning clothes in her garden. Odd, don’t you think? It was the middle of the day in the summer and she was burning clothes on her back lawn. I couldn’t see whether the items were men’s or women’s – by the time I got there they were unrecognisable, so I couldn’t tell you who they belonged to. It’s the only time I’ve ever known her to have a bonfire. I wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time but I dismissed it. Later that day we got the news that Scott had taken his own life.’ June leaned across the desk, shoulders hunched up, and said, ‘I know that Scott was a bad penny but, the way he ended up, that could just as easily have been my Jake. Jake’s a lovely wee boy. Never married and I can’t understand it. If Jake had been the positive influence on Scott we would have liked him to be, then surely both Scott’s and Jason Holland’s lives would have turned out differently.’
‘That’s something we’ll never know, June. Did you ever ask Diane about the clothes she burned?’
‘Only once. After the funeral. She claimed not to remember at all. I let it go.’
‘Did you tell anyone else? Donald?’
‘Oh, no. I didn’t want to worry him. I just kept quiet.’
‘Earlier on, June, you said “the night that Scott hanged himself” and then you changed it to “the night he died”. What did you mean by that?’
Her blank stare initially made me think she hadn’t a clue what I meant. But then she answered, ‘Scott was murdered.’
‘What makes you say that?’ I asked.
‘Isn’t it obvious, dear? Diane murdered Scott, and now her own sister. She probably killed Jason Holland too.’
Was no one in this family sane? Hoping my face was still showing interest and not incredulity, I said, ‘I need to check I have this right. You’re saying that when Diane was in her sixties she was able to hang her own forty-one-year-old nephew; then, aged seventy-one, she stabbed her seventy-seven-year-old sister and overcame the twenty-stone, thirty-something Jason Holland.’ Really, I did try to say this without sounding as if I was taking the mick. I liked June. She had until now seemed to be the only one in the family holding it together. Now she was coming undone. But, most importantly at this moment, she was trying to help me, help the police solve a murder. Sarcasm was not going to help.
‘Aye, listen to me,’ she said. ‘I sound insane when you put it like that.’
‘No, June, not insane, just someone who’s worried about her family. The comments you’ve made about your sister-in-law burning clothes – I’m going to need a statement. That OK?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. But please, ignore what I said about Diane being responsible. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve never said those words out loud and, now I have, it seems ridiculous.’
‘It’s your statement, June,’ I said. ‘You have to be happy with the contents before you sign it.’ It wasn’t going to stop me passing the information on, though.
I explained that I was going to tell my colleague in the car what I was doing and get the correct paperwork. Outside, I stood in the sunshine, remembering how guilty churches always made me feel. Like I should have led a better life. Given more to the poor and less to the Wine Emporium.
Wingsy was on the phone, but he hung up when he saw me. Following a quick resumé of my conversation with June, I said, ‘So that’s the short of it, mate. Call the office and pass it on, but I can’t see that Diane is physically capable of killing either Scott or Jason. If she did kill Jason, that means she probably was capable of killing her own sister and Amanda Bell. Can’t rule it out, but Holland was a big old lump.’
I said I’d be back out when I’d finished the statement. As I walked out of the sunlight and into the church again, I felt a chill go down my spine.
Chapter 33
Emerging some time later, paperwork complete, June’s mind put to rest and my mind already on the next task, I got into the car. Wingsy was eating a satsuma.
‘Want one?’ he asked, holding open a string bag of fruit.
‘Shops run out of crisps?’ I asked, reaching for one.
‘No. It’s Mel. She’s put me on a healthy eating campaign.’
‘Well, you look over the moon about it.’ I said. ‘You just tell her that chips and tomato ketchup, that’s two of your five a day. Throw in a can of lemonade and you’re almost there.’
‘You tell her. Don’t know what’s got into her lately. She keeps telling me to play more golf or join a gym.’
‘Perhaps she’s sick of the sight of you.’
‘Don’t know how. I’ve seen more of you in the last week or so than her.’
‘Going home early last night didn’t work, then?’ I asked.
‘No. We had a row. Might as well have stayed at work and earned some money. Not like three kids ain’t expensive.’ He turned the ignition on and said, ‘Let’s go and see Jake Lloyd again.’
Jake was at home. It took him a couple of minutes to get to the door but once he opened it he beamed at me, welcoming Wingsy and me inside. Well, he welcomed me in, Wingsy followed.
A the kitchen table, Jake sat down opposite me. Trying to feel flattered rather than unnerved, I broached the subject of Scott’s death with as much tact as I could manage.
‘Jake, I realise that you spent little time with your cousin when you were older – ’ I broke off and paused, interrupting myself. ‘I can smell burning.’ It seemed to be coming from the direction of the room that housed the noisy washing machine.
Jake waved my concern aside and said, ‘I was just burning some old letters and correspondence before you arrived. It’s fine, really.’
I looked at Wingsy briefly, but decided not to be sidetracked right now. ‘As I was saying, when you were older, was there anything unusual about Scott’s behaviour just before his death that you recall?’
‘He was becoming more dangerous, more reckless and more obsessive,’ he replied. He smiled at me as though this was all good news.
Attempting to break this down, I asked, ‘Obsessive? Tell me about the obsession, Jake.’
‘Obsessed with you and your sister, Nina.’
I went cold.
I could hear the confusion in Wingsy’s voice as he said, ‘Nina, what sister?’
I had always told everyone that I was an only child. I could hear a loud thudding in my ears, as if every drop of blood in my body was pumping through my head.
‘He followed your every move on the news. The pictures of you when you were rescued, what happened to you
r sister – all of it. It took over his life. Being younger than him and looking up to him, I thought he was just interested. Clearly he wasn’t. When he took those two girls, snatched them, I suppose it was an attempt at copying what had happened to the Foster girls. Sick bastard. I’m so sorry, Nina. I did what I could to stop him, but I was only barely out of my teens myself. You would never have come to any harm, though, I made sure of that.’
My work phone rang. Normally I would have ignored it, but I needed to look away from Lloyd’s face. I could read something disturbing in it. I took the phone out of my pocket and read the word ‘Beckensale’ on the screen. What could she possibly want at a time like this?
‘I have to get this,’ I mumbled, getting up and muttering my name into the mouthpiece.
‘Nina, listen. Just got a result back from Fingerprints about those photographs you were sent. The name Jake Lloyd mean anything to you?’
I couldn’t speak. Managed to turn my back on Lloyd so that he couldn’t see my face but stayed at an angle so that Wingsy could. Let him see the horror on it, I thought. Please, Wingsy, help me.
‘Nina, are you listening? Where are you?’
‘Enquiries at Jake Lloyd’s house. Operation Guard,’ I managed to say.
‘Fuck. Who you with?’
‘Wingsy. Kim Cotton sent us. Is it urgent, sarge? We can’t really leave now.’ It was terrible cover but my mind wasn’t working.
I could hear her frantic shouting in the background and knew that she would be today’s Stan McGuire.
‘Listen to me. A patrol is on its way. Every spare man is coming. Keep him talking. Make out you’re hanging up but leave the line open. OK?’
‘Sure, sarge, got that, but we’re likely to be here at Francis Street for about another hour or so. See you after that. Bye, then.’
Wingsy was staring at me. He knew something was up. I glanced over at Lloyd, catching sight of myself in a mirror on the far wall as I did so. I didn’t have to worry about the blood in my head any more. I looked as if I’d come to haunt the place. As I sat back down, Wingsy took over smoothly. ‘When was the last time you saw your aunt Daphne?’ he asked in an even tone.