(2011) Only the Innocent

by Rachel Abbott

  ‘Did he tell you what he meant by a better life, Mirela?’ Tom asked.

  ‘No. He give me a phone, and say that each week I must send him SMS when I am on my own. If he can, he will call for a talk. We do this for weeks, but no big chances come. No better life. I have to keep this a big secret, and if I tell to anybody he say I may have to leave the Allium. So I don’t tell. Then he say that we can meet. But not in private. We meet in museums.’

  Very smart Hugo, thought Tom. Nobody would think it at all odd to see Sir Hugo Fletcher talking kindly to a young girl.

  ‘Why did you go with him, Mirela?’

  ‘We meet many times, and he tells me how he is unhappy with his wife. She is unwell, he says. I feel sorry for him. I start to care for him, because he is kind to me. He even gives me some money to send to my family in Romania. Then one day he tells me he has good idea. Perhaps while we wait for the big chance, I can be his housekeeper. But nobody must know this, because he cannot have a favourite girl. I must leave a note - he tells me the things to write. And then we go.’

  Tom took a glass of water from the side of the bed, and held it to Mirela’s lips for her, just as he would have done for Lucy. This girl was somebody’s child, and if she had been sending money home, her family must be out of their minds with worry having not heard from her in weeks.

  She gave him a weak smile of gratitude and continued.

  ‘He put a cover over my eyes. He tells me this house is his secret, and so nobody can know where it is. I cannot leave the house without him. He always comes at the night in his big car, but he takes me to go to the shops in a small car that lives at the farm.’

  Tom knew about this - he had seen it there and wondered what its purpose was. Clearly when Hugo was down here, he didn’t want to be recognised. For such a small car, it had seemed rather odd that it had dark tinted windows. Now it all made sense.

  ‘I had to wear the cover for my eyes until we get to the shop. Always a different shop. I don’t have an idea of where we are, but I think the sea is near because of the birds. That is all I know. But he is nice to me, and I just clean the house for him.’

  Mirela stopped and closed her eyes. It was obvious to Tom that she was going to find the next part difficult, so he gave her some time. Finally she started to speak again.

  ‘He start to touch me a bit. Not too bad - but I know what is coming. Then he kiss me. I don’t mind - better one kind man than many who are not kind and some who smell. When he ask me for sex I decide it’s okay. I like this man. We are happy together. This was at the beginning, you understand. But I don’t like the sex he wants. He likes to be tied up. It is not very nice, but I have had worse.’

  God, thought Tom. How sad that a girl as young as this can grade sex on how bad it’s been.

  ‘Did he always chain you up, Mirela?’ Tom asked, as gently as he could.

  ‘No - no he didn’t. That was at the end. It was a few weeks, and I said I was not happy. I wanted to go outside - even in the garden. But he always say not. I am in the house all the time. No air to breath. I start to shout at him, and say this is not the big chance. I don’t like it here. He say nothing. He just look at me as if I am nothing. Then I say that I don’t like the sex. I thought he was normal. But he is not. I tell him it is not a nice way to make sex, and I hate that wig he makes me to wear. His eyes goes very black. Like a diavol. I don’t know this word in English.’

  Tom didn’t need a translator to tell him what this meant.

  ‘Then he hold my hair and drag me up the stairs. He take me into a room - one I don’t see before because it is always locked. There is nothing. Just a mattress and a hook with a chain. And a bucket for - you know what for. He throw me on the mattress and I try to fight - but he is too strong.’

  Mirela’s face had taken on a look of fear, as if she were reliving every moment. Tom held the water out to her again.

  ‘Take your time, Mirela. I’ve got as long as it takes - don’t worry.’

  ‘No - I want to say all now. Then I can forget. I can try. He put the chain on, and then he go out of the room. When he comes back he has some biscuits and some water. No other food. Then he says something horrible. He say ‘Do you remember your friend Alina’. I say that yes of course I do. He say ‘This room is to her memory.’ These are not the right words, but he use a word I do not understand.’

  But Tom thought he did.

  ‘Did he say ‘This room is dedicated to her memory’ do you think?’

  ‘I think so, but I do not know this word. He say that she was a very stupid whore. She ask for more money because she knows too many secrets. So he builds the room for her. Then he say that I will now go the way of the others. He say nobody care about prostitutes. We are forgotten forever. He leave the room. I think he is laughing. But I don’t see him again. He stops coming.’

  Tom suddenly realised that Mirela probably had no idea that Hugo was dead. He couldn’t decide whether it would be better or not to tell her, but given her fear he decided that telling her had to be the right decision.

  ‘Mirela, Sir Hugo treated you very badly. There is no excuse for his behaviour at all, and I’m just glad that we managed to find you. But the reason he didn’t come back, Mirela, is because he’s dead. Somebody murdered him.’

  She turned her head towards him, and for the first time gave a real smile.

  ‘Good,’ she said.

  CHAPTER 38

  Cold as the dining room was, it felt like a haven to Becky. She sat on a hard dining chair, with her head resting on her folded arms on the table. The last few hours had been some of the most harrowing she had ever encountered with a family. The pain of telling somebody that their loved ones were dead was terrible enough, but this was a completely different experience for her. She knew now that the news Tom would be bringing for Laura was going to be the worst kind, and she knew there was no way she could even begin to imagine what Laura was going through.

  Tom had told her about his conversations with Mirela, and brought her up to date on what the Dorset police were expecting to find at Lytchett Minster Farm. But he had asked her not to tell Laura - he wanted to do it himself. He must be a glutton for punishment to want to break this news, was all she could think. Thank God she didn’t have to do it.

  She had already had to prevent Stella from switching on the television for fear of what might be revealed, and she felt a dreadful guilt at her earlier suspicions of Laura. It seemed clear now that Tom had been right all along when he said that the Allium girls had to hold the key to the case. And all she had done was pester him about delving deeper with Laura. Imogen wasn’t out of the frame, but if everything that Tom had told her was true, she couldn’t help feeling that whoever killed Hugo had performed a service to mankind .

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her mobile, and she could see it was Tom.

  ‘Hi,’ she said quietly. ‘Are you okay?’ This day must have been one of the worst of his career too.

  Tom sounded tired and resigned on the phone. He told her he was on his way back and would be with them shortly. Could she let Laura know that he would be there soon?

  ‘Of course I can, Tom. I think they want me to leave, though. What do you think I should do? They don’t know what to do with me. I’ve been sitting with them in the kitchen, but I don’t think they’re comfortable with that, and Laura’s told me at least five times that I can go because she’s got all the support she needs. I’m just lurking in the dining room at the moment.’

  She listened as Tom spoke, told him to drive carefully, and hung up. He sounded exhausted, and the earlier exhilaration at the thought of finding one of the girls safe had been overshadowed by everything they were now expecting to discover.

  Becky made her way to the kitchen, where they had all decided to gather. There wasn’t a sound, but she knew they were all in there. She knocked softly on the door. It was Beatrice who shouted ‘come in’ as if this was still her home. But nobody seemed to mind.
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br />   ‘I’ve just heard from Tom, Laura. He’s on his way, and should be here in about fifteen minutes. He didn’t phone sooner in case he got held up. He wants to bring you up to date on everything himself. He thought you would understand.’

  Laura lifted a pale face towards Becky and attempted a smile.

  ‘Thanks Becky. Why don’t you get yourself back to the B&B now. We’ll be okay until Tom gets here. You must be worn out too.’

  Becky thought she should stay, but Tom had said that if Laura suggested it again, she should go.

  ‘Can I get anything for anybody before I leave,’ she asked.

  ‘We’re fine. Thanks for everything, though. It’s good of you to have stayed this long,’ Laura answered.

  Becky was about to respond that it was her job, but stopped herself just in time. It was so gracious of Laura to say that when her mind must be in turmoil. Laura wasn’t at all the person Becky had first thought, and she wished she had some way of expressing her sympathy. But she merely nodded at everybody, and left the room closing the door quietly behind her.

  She was surprised to find her own face wet with tears as she walked towards her car. Becky had never been much of a one for crying, but this was one day she would never forget.

  *

  When Tom finally arrived, Laura opened the door to him herself. They both looked at each other for a long moment. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt deeply ashamed - as if she were personally responsible for the sordid revelations she felt sure Tom was about to make. All she could see in Tom’s eyes, though, was compassion and exhaustion. Without a word, she pulled the door wider to let him through.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so long. The wait must have seemed interminable. It’s not good news, I’m afraid. I really think it would be better for you to sit down, Laura.’ He held out one arm to indicate that she should lead him into the drawing room.

  Laura perched herself on the edge of the sofa, her hands gripping the fabric on either side of her, then looked at Tom’s weary eyes and waited. Before he had a chance to speak, Stella appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Tom, I’m sure you’re in need of some coffee, aren’t you? Would you like something to eat, too?’

  ‘A cup of coffee would be wonderful, Stella. But no food at the moment, thanks.’

  He sat down and faced a still silent Laura.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, Laura. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink for hours, and I just need to keep my batteries going a little longer.’

  Laura forced herself to respond. She could feel her body shaking, but more than anything she wanted to appear in control.

  ‘Don’t worry. You should have let her make you something to eat. Mum’s a solution looking for a problem at the moment. It would have given her something to occupy herself with.’

  A light tap came on the door, and Will popped his head round.

  ‘Mum said that the police have arrived. Laura, I think you should have somebody with you. Is it okay if I join you?’

  Laura looked at Tom, who simply nodded his head. There was a degree of wariness between these two as a result of Imogen’s questioning, but Laura needed some moral support for what she feared she was about to hear.

  ‘Please, Will. I’d be grateful. We don’t need the whole family in this time, though. Perhaps if you listen to what Tom has to say, you can be the one to tell everybody later. I don’t think I could bear it. Come and sit down.’

  Will took a seat next to Laura and he reached out to hold her hand. She was grateful for his strength as he gave her hand a small and comforting squeeze.

  ‘Becky told you that we found Mirela at the farm. I’ve been to see her, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that she’s going to be fine.’

  Stella quietly entered the room and placed a mug of coffee in front of Tom. She looked expectantly at Laura, but Will shook his head at her and she took the hint and left.

  Laura listened silently as Tom repeated his conversation with Mirela; how Hugo had managed to persuade her that she was special, and how he had given her money for her family while keeping her hanging on for her “big chance”.

  Tom took a sip of his coffee, and Laura didn’t miss his thoughtful look as he watched her for a moment over the rim of his cup. She knew what he was thinking. He was wondering how much to tell her. Her body was icy cold, and she knew that Will must be able to sense the tremors through her hand.

  ‘I know that you probably want to spare my feelings, Tom. But don’t, please. It’s all going to come out some time, and I’d rather hear it from you than anybody else.’

  Laura knew he would tell her the truth, but he would be considerate in his choice of words. She couldn’t ask for any more than that, however awful that truth was.

  Tom nodded and put his cup down.

  ‘Hugo’s rule about not investigating the girls who left a note makes perfect sense now. It was his way of avoiding any investigation that could lead back to him. But Laura, he’d been doing this for years - did Beatrice tell you? It must have started before you even met him.’

  ‘But Becky said she was chained up, somehow. Is that true? Why, Tom? I don’t understand why he would do that. It’s barbaric.’

  The look of compassion in Tom’s eyes was almost too much for Laura. He leaned forwards as if he wanted to reach out and touch her.

  ‘She was being punished. All she had was some water, dry biscuits and a bucket that was overflowing in the corner. Poor kid.’

  Laura had gone pale, but it wasn’t really with shock. It was more with the memory of her life with Hugo, and with abject pity for this young girl.

  ‘Oh God. I knew it would be bad, but…’ Laura’s voice cracked, but she had to continue. She needed to know it all. ‘Why did he have to punish her - do you know?’

  ‘She complained about being locked in, and…’ he paused as if debating what to say.

  ‘And what?’

  ‘And she didn’t like the sex. She said she had to tie him up. And she always had to wear a long red wig.’

  Laura had a vivid picture in her mind of what that poor girl had suffered. And now she knew why there were only three wigs in the attic, although she realised she had been supressing that particular suspicion since she’d found the wig box.

  ‘Tom, I need to know this. Before you started to tell me about Mirela you talked about girls plural, and said that he’d been doing this for a long time. You’re not just talking about Mirela being treated like this, are you? How many girls were there, and what happened to them?’

  Tom couldn’t meet her eyes, and that told her so much.

  ‘We found a ledger that goes back for years. It’s apparent that at one time he used to pay the girls. We think that he gave them a lump sum when they left, and then he was continuing to pay them for their silence each month. But he definitely paid them off, and they left.’

  ‘At one time he used to pay them? What do you mean? What changed? Why did he stop paying them?’ Laura asked, her voice rising with each question. But deep inside she knew what he was going to say. She had known from the minute she heard about Mirela. She just needed to hear the words.

  So Tom told her. He told her about Alina’s name in the ledger. He told her what Hugo had said to Mirela, and what they’d surmised. And he told her about the team now in Dorset, ready to dig up the farm and the outbuildings.

  Laura stood up, and ran from the room.

  *

  It was several minutes before Laura returned, and in that time Stella had brought Tom a bacon sandwich. He felt bad about eating it, given Laura’s intense distress. But he needed something to keep him going. It wouldn’t help matters if he became light headed. Neither man had broken the silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

  Laura wasn’t looking any better, but seemed slightly more composed.

  ‘I’m really sorry. I just needed to get out of here for a few minutes. What are you doing about looking for the girls?’

  ‘We’ve got sp
ecial equipment that we’re using to examine the grounds around the house. There are a lot of grounds, so it’s going to be a long job. Of course, he may have put them in the car and taken them somewhere.’

  Laura took a long quivering breath. She was deathly pale, and he was amazed at how well she was holding herself together.

  ‘This is going to be hard for me to say, but it might save you some time. I think he would have strangled the girls, or possibly smothered them. He may have drugged them first so that they couldn’t fight. He was an evil man without a doubt, but he didn’t like mess. He wouldn’t have done anything that resulted in blood flow of any description.’

  Laura shuddered and reached out for Will’s hand again.

  ‘He wouldn’t have taken the bodies out of the grounds. I’m sure of it. It would have been too risky. And if you’re looking for a grave, I think you’re wasting your time.’

  Tom gave a slight nod of encouragement, fixing his gaze on Laura’s face as she continued.

  ‘Hugo would never, ever, dig a hole or do any manual labour at all. If he killed the girls, then he would have disposed of them somewhere on the land, and somewhere that didn’t require any physical effort.’

  Tom was baffled, but Laura seemed so certain.

  ‘I can understand your reasoning, Laura, but I can’t see where he could have hidden them in or around the property without digging.’

  Tom looked at Will, still grasping Laura’s hand, his mouth set in a hard line. They didn’t look like siblings, but they both had a similar dogged determination in their manner.

  ‘What can you tell me about the farm?’ Will asked. ‘Was it a working farm? How old is it approximately?’

  ‘Why do you want to know, Will?’ Laura looked puzzled.

  ‘Well, if it was a working farm there may have been some underground storage that might be covered up by now, or if it’s old it may have had a well.’

  ‘It’s a Victorian gothic farmhouse.’ Tom answered. ‘Ugly, menacing brute of a place in the dark, actually. Probably built mid to late nineteenth century, so a well is possible. It was a sheep farm. I gather that part of Dorset is quite famous for its sheep. The land was originally quite extensive, but it’s been sold off now, apart from about ten acres that surround the house. There are no outbuildings left, only an old barn that seems to be used as a garage, and a rather decrepit summer house. We’ll dig out the deeds and see what we can find.’