Angela's Dead

by Lou Peters

  ‘For heaven’s sake Cooper, they smell like a bag of farts. If you’re going to eat them in here, you better wind your window down. Phew... bloody hell fire. I hadn’t been serious you know.’

  ‘Does that mean you’d rather not have one, sir?’ Arnold said with a grin.

  ‘Too bloody right... And don’t get too bloody comfortable. Next services you can take over the driving for a while.’

  ‘No problem sir,’ Arnold said his mouth full of sandwich. Walters turned away in disgust.

  Earlier, the officers had learned that Rachel Smith had filled up her car at a garage just outside of Boynton. She’d paid the fifty odd quid petrol bill with her debit card. ‘You don’t need that much petrol to go shopping, detective sergeant.’ Walters had said when the call came through.

  ‘Looks like your hunch was proved right, sir. We are presuming she’s heading for Cornwall?’

  ‘Where else, Cooper?’

  ‘How do you think she knows Johnson has been spotted in Cadgwith? Do you think Ridgway told her?’

  ‘I’d like to think not. Of course, we can’t rule that possibility out. Maybe Johnson had broken his silence. Perhaps he had spotted Ridgway taking his photograph and wanted to move somewhere more secure. But if he hadn’t got the transport...’

  ‘...He’d called on his girlfriend, to help him out. Which makes you wonder how he got there in the first place?’

  ‘I don’t know, bus, train.’

  ‘But we had all of those covered.’

  ‘After the body was discovered, yes, but if he’d been at the old woman’s house at ten o’clock the previous morning, as advised by Purvis. The man had had a twenty four hour start. Which again makes me wonder, what Ruth had said to him to make him flee?’

  ‘Most obvious thing, she knew he committed the girls’ murders.’

  ‘Then why Cooper, did the old woman smile across at Bradley Purvis, while shaking Johnson’s hand on her doorstep? She’d been pleased to see him. If she thought Johnson had murdered little Angela Hastings and her friend, she wouldn’t have been quite so welcoming.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, sir. Maybe it only came to light once he’d entered the house.’

  Walters’ phone began to ring and vibrate simultaneously. ‘Get that, will you Arnold?’ Concentrating on the road ahead, the inspector moved his body to allow Cooper to retrieve the ringing phone from his jacket.

  ‘Detective Inspector Walters phone,’ Cooper chanted, mobile pressed against his ear.

  ‘You again Grimesey, you got nothing better to do...? Now that’s not very friendly...’

  ‘When you’ve quite finished, detective sergeant,’ Walters growled.

  ‘Sorry sir, just a bit of banter.’ Cooper transferred the phone to his left fist. The mobile seemingly reduced in size grasped within the large appendage. ‘Go ahead Sergeant Grimes.’ Listening to what the station based officer had to tell him, Cooper uttered, ‘oh, now that is interesting.’

  Walters discerned a distinct change in the sergeant’s tone.

  ‘So it was worth checking out. How long did you say? Okay... thanks... right... see you Grimes.’ After cutting the connection Cooper slipped the phone back into the inspector’s pocket. ‘Another hunch proved right. You’re getting good at this, sir. As you suspected, Jackie Riley has been renting in the area. As it turns out, a room in Rasburgh since the end of November... And wait for it…’

  ‘Just get on with it sergeant, will you.’ Why did Cooper always need a drum roll to his pronouncements?

  ‘As you like sir, the Riley girl has been lodging in Brooke Crescent, in the same street as our victim, Ruth Montgomery.’

  ‘You’re joking Arnold?’ Walters looked at the detective sergeant, a stupefied expression on his face, his thoughts whirring.

  ‘No sir I’m not… Don’t you think you should be looking ahead, sir, at the road? You’re veering into the middle of the road… Mark.’ Cooper’s voice had become urgent.

  Glancing out of the windscreen he’d seen what Walters clearly couldn’t while his eyes remained fixated on him. A HGV was rumbling towards the Toyota which had crossed over the centre white line directly into its path. Cooper, thinking he was too young to die was about to take hold of the steering wheel, when a blast from the horn of the oncoming vehicle brought Walters to his senses. Not a second too soon he swerved the car back onto the correct side of the road. The driver of the articulated lorry flashed his lights. Beeping his horn loudly he gave an angry one fingered salute, his mouth issuing forth a torrent of silent expletives as the vehicles passed each other.

  ‘Jeeze,’ Arnold gasped expressively. He wiped his hand across his damp forehead. ‘That was close. Do you want me to take over the driving for a while, sir?’

  ‘At the next services, I’ve already told you detective sergeant...’ Walters appeared unperturbed by the near collision, his thought too embroiled on what he’d just learnt. ‘What we need to be thinking is why was Jackie Riley staying in Rasburgh? We presume, without Rachel Smith’s knowledge. Could she have murdered the old lady? She’d been handily placed, but there’s always that question, Cooper? Why? ... What would be her motive for killing the old girl?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue, sir... I know it’s tenuous, but maybe... just maybe Mary McIntyre didn’t die. Her body as far as we know was never found. Perhaps that’s the connection. Ruth saw her in the market Tuesday morning, couldn’t believe her eyes. Raised her hand in greeting and McIntyre wanting to remain anonymous, pushed her over and later killed her to buy the woman’s silence.’

  ‘A chance encounter you mean, while the Riley woman was keeping tabs on her friend? You’re right, it does sound bloody tenuous. And would the elderly woman have recognised, the presumed dead little girl, after all these years?

  ‘I don’t know sir, possibly. It would have given her one hell of a jolt if she had.

  ‘Could Jackie Riley really be Mary McIntyre? I’m not sure. Maybe we’re stretching our imaginations a bit too far. Another thing, if she did kill Ruth, then why has Riley remained in the area, to be found out...? Unless of course, she thought Johnson would take the rap.’

  ‘It’s a possibility sir, however farfetched. But the thing that bothers me is what did it matter if Ruth had recognised her? The girl had been the victim.’

  ‘Who knows what the child had endured, at the hands of that evil monster. That’s if she is indeed, Mary. If he’d been capable of murder, what else had the man been capable of? It doesn’t bear thinking about. Perhaps a face from her past was enough to destabilise Riley. Made her feel ashamed in some way, brought everything back. All the terrors she’d been subjected to as a kid.’

  ‘So what are we doing chasing across the country, when we should be back in Rasburgh bringing the Riley woman in for questioning?’

  ‘I don’t think she’ll be in Rasburgh.’ Walters advised, in serious tones. ‘I think Rachel Smith will have told her friend exactly where she’s going. My bet is that Riley will follow her. And because we know virtually nothing about Jackie Riley, or her state of mind…’ Walters let the sentence lie in mid air, both policemen fully aware of the implications.

  Walters and Cooper drove on for awhile in silence. Signs, indicating the approach of the motorway services appeared at the roadside. However, the inspector ignored them, as he did the slip road off the motorway. Arnold said nothing.

  Eventually, Walters voiced his thoughts, ‘I’ll tell you one thing, though, detective sergeant, renting a room so close to her friend without telling her. Then pretending to drive down from the North West to be with that friend, to offer emotional support, in my opinion doesn’t bode well... doesn’t bode well at all. Christ only knows what we’ll find, if we don’t get there in time.’

  Cooper noticed the sudden change in speed, as Walters depressed the accelerator pedal harder to the floor.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Monday Late Afternoon 14 December 2009

  Despite setting out early that morning,
it was nearing dusk by the time Rachel reached Cadgwith Cove. Not used to driving long distances on her own, she’d taken a number of wrong turnings, especially at one point of her journey. The error had cost her dearly and taken her miles off her route. Rachel had realised her error not long after she’d made it. However, the narrow twisting country roads hadn’t allowed for her to turn the car around. With frustration Rachel had had to continue, until an opportunity arose for her to correct her mistake.

  She now brought the car to s standstill in the almost empty car park. Switched off the side lights and leant back in her seat, grateful to be at journey’s end. Letting her head loll against the headrest, eyes closed for a couple of minutes, she tried to get her thoughts in order. What if Richard wasn’t there? What if her premonition had been wrong? She was so tired now, not willing to accept she could have travelled all that way for nothing. Forcing herself out of the car, she took a moment for the luxury of a long stretch. Reaching her arms as high as she could, she then bent over almost double, to touch her toes. She felt the rush of blood to her head, the pull on her back and legs before straightening up. There was a stiff breeze coming in off the sea, the smell of salt and seaweed in the air. Rachel lifted her head skywards, inhaled deeply. The fresh sea scents filled her lungs to capacity.

  A lone gull swooped, in the darkening sky. Finding a suitable location to roost for the night, the screeching bird was soon eclipsed from view. Opening the car boot, Rachel pulled out the rucksack, heaved it onto her shoulders. The weight of it made her stagger backwards a few paces. She corrected her posture, readjusting the straps of the sack to enable it to sit more comfortably against her back. After activating the car’s central locking mechanism she headed towards the steep road, which led down to the village and the line of thatched cottages. Upon reaching the decline, Rachel hesitated. Would Richard risk staying in the little place on the road down to the inn, as had been her initial thought? If people saw light coming from the old, uninhabited dwelling, surely it would raise questions. Where then? She looked at the path leading onto the Torrs. There was another place she remembered. More isolated, surrounded by trees. Rachel decided to try that location as her first option. If necessary, she could retrace her steps.

  The torch remained in her jacket pocket from her foray yesterday afternoon. Rachel retrieved the chunky item. Switching it on, she allowed the beam to guide her way onto the winding path, away from the car park and the village. She felt a certain nervousness to be alone, in the dark, in that relatively unfamiliar place. To hear the wind soughing through the pines, the distant sound of the sea pounding the rocky coastline below. The sympathetic moon, it seemed, had sensed her dilemma. The orb peeked around the edge of a silver cloud, before coming completely into view. Round and full the sphere abandoned her refuge, lighting the path as good as day. No longer in need of the artificial guidance, Rachel, after clicking the switch, returned the torch to her pocket.

  Thinking she’d heard a noise behind her she stood stock still, listening. Realising it must’ve been her imagination, or perhaps dried leaves rustling on the path behind her, disturbed by the breeze. She turned to satisfy her curiosity. Viewed the sandy pathway, she’d so recently trod. Her imprints deepened by the weight of the sack. There was no-one else around, only her and the constant sound of the sea. A tingle ran through her at the thought. The rucksack dug into her shoulders and she hitched it up to gain more comfort. Hopefully, it wasn’t far to go now.

  The little cottage, in even more of a state of disrepair, than River Cottage, stood away from the path. Boarded up, the place looked neglected and Rachel thought, rather sad. She saw a wisp of smoke rise from the chimney. Immediately, it was lost against the backdrop of tall, swaying evergreens. She smelt traces of wood smoke in the air. Giving her a warm glow inside knowing she’d been right to come here. The journey after all had been worthwhile. Rachel made her way to the rear of the old cottage. Again, the windows were covered with planks of wood nailed to the wooden frames, blocking any light from the inside, escaping out. She saw however, splinters of wood around the handle of the door, where recent entry had been forced. Rachel hesitated, wondering what she was doing in that lonely place. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she turned the round door knob to gain entrance into the property. Not certain of what she might find.

  For a moment Richard remained oblivious to her presence. She stood watching him for a few seconds, hardly able to believe her eyes. Turning, he saw Rachel as she emerged from the shadows. However, there was to be no welcome embrace. Instead Richard let out a startled cry.

  ‘Oh my God, Rachel... what are you doing here?’

  There was a little fear mingled in with the surprise, reflected in his grey eyes. It had not been the moment she’d been dreaming of these past long days. She took an eager step forward towards him, but he counteracted the move and took a step backwards, away from her.

  Rachel shrugged the sack from off her shoulders. She laid it on the floor. ‘Richard?’ She wanted to rush into his arms. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘What’s wrong? Aren’t you pleased to see me? I’ve missed you so much, thought you were dead. Please Richard, say something.’ He continued to stare at Rachel, his face colourless, a sheet of parchment.

  ‘It’s no good... Jackie’s told me.’ Richard said. His face unsmiling, his voice cold, without tone.

  ‘Jackie, what’s she got to do with anything? What’s she told you? Richard I don’t understand. I love you. I thought you loved me.’

  ‘I did Rachel. I loved you with all of my heart.’

  ‘Did... I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. Waiting day after day for that visit from the police, with the news I’d been dreading. I know you didn’t kill that woman. Known you could never hurt anyone ... Please Richard, don’t hurt me now. Tell me what’s wrong. What did Jack say?’

  Richard held his head down, his gaze averted as though he couldn’t bear to look at her any longer. ‘I don’t know what to think,’ he mumbled to his chest. ‘She’s told me some terrible things... the old woman too... I had to get away, to try and work things out… I didn’t want to believe what Jackie had said was true. And then I saw a newspaper headline, realised the woman I’d been to see had been murdered later that same day... My photograph plastered all over the inside pages, alongside hers. I knew I had to lie low until they’d caught the real killer, whoever it was. I didn’t want to end up in prison for God knows how many years, charged with a crime I hadn’t committed. An apology from the Home Office and a meagre pay out, a poor replacement for a lost life when the authorities eventually discovered I’d been telling the truth, by protesting my innocence... That’s if they ever did.’ Richard stated bitterly, the mumble now replaced by something that sounded more like subdued anger.

  He looked at Rachel then. His grey eyes were full of sadness.

  ‘I thought we had everything Rachel. I’d found you, and believe you me I’d been searching for a long time. I’d got the house in the country I’d always dreamed of, the land for my business. I thought we were going to be so happy.’

  ‘But we still can Richard,’ Rachel said, risking a further step closer to him. ‘Whatever Jackie has said, it must be a lie... Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this to us.’ Her voice was breaking with emotion, her stomach churned with anxiety. The look in his eyes prevented Rachel from moving any closer. It was useless. She sat down on one of the overturned crates Richard had been using as chairs, exhausted. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. ‘I’m tired Richard. I’ve been driving for hours, not been able to sleep properly since you’ve been gone... I’ve even brought you a sandwich and some mineral water, thought you might be hungry... and some of your clothes.’ Rachel stretched out a hand and pulled the discarded sack towards her. She rummaged in the top compartment, bringing out the food and drink. Placed the items on top of the plank; suspended across two weighty logs that performed as a table. Unscrewing the top off her own bottle, in desperate need of lubricating the throat that ha
d suddenly gone dry, she drank deeply.

  ‘If you want me to, I’ll go.’ She said defeated, tears in her eyes. She placed the bottle back onto the strip of wood. All her high hopes and elation from that morning had been dashed, like the waves against the rocks.

  ‘How did you know where to find me?’

  Rachel smiled sadly. ‘Don’t you remember when we came in the summer, you said what a great out of the way place it was, that you could lose yourself here. I took the meaning literally, and well… here I am.’

  Although Richard didn’t come and sit by her, obviously hungry, he took the food and drink she’d brought before again stepping away. He already looked as though he’d lost weight. His face was gaunt and hollow behind the black stubble.

  ‘I still don’t know what to think. Seeing you here it’s difficult to believe the things Jackie said about you could be true.’

  ‘Then don’t believe them,’ Rachel whispered. It was hard to be in the same room as the man she loved and to have no physical contact, after all of her longing. She rested her head in her hands. Slowly, she rubbed her fingers up and down her temples trying to relieve the pounding and the mounting pressure that was building inside. This was going to be one humdinger of a headache, she knew.

  ‘Rachel.’

  She looked up at the handsome man in his prime. His soft grey eyes, creased at the corners from smiling too much, his crooked wide mouth. She did love this man and it broke her heart.

  ‘What Richard? Tell me.’ Rachel said, softly.

  ‘Could you have done that terrible thing, all those years ago?’

  ‘Is that what Jackie said?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And if I had done, how would she know. Unless of course, she’d just been making it up to cause trouble? You know she’s always been jealous of you, of our relationship.’

  ‘She said, your mother had told her.’

  ‘Ah... then it must be true.’ Rachel had seen Richard had been as thirsty as she and his small bottle of flavoured mineral water was almost empty.