by Joy Ellis
Nikki left, fighting back her tears. But then she caught a glimpse of the whiteboard, and the photographs of the two mutilated women, and she knew she had done the right thing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nikki was just leaving the police station when Yvonne Collins called out to her.
‘Ma’am! Something’s happened you should know about!’
‘I thought you’d gone home ages ago.’ Nikki looked at Yvonne’s worried expression. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s George Ackroyd, ma’am, one of the Quintin child victims. I’ve just heard that he has hung himself.’
‘Oh no!’ Nikki exhaled loudly. ‘Who is attending?’
Yvonne gave her an apologetic half smile. ‘Er, well, I said . . . we would?’
‘Come on then.’ The super’s instructions rang in her ears. No more sudden deaths. But they had only interviewed George Ackroyd a short while ago, and now he was dead. To hell with it. She had no choice.
* * *
Blue-and-white tape stretched across the entrance to the dingy, grey building in Cole Lane. Nikki spoke to the uniforms outside. ‘Who found him?’
‘The shopkeeper from Churchill Avenue rang us, ma’am. Ackroyd had placed an order but never collected. He sent his lad round, but he couldn’t get in. The shopkeeper knew about his agoraphobia, so when he phoned him and got no answer he rang us, and we forced an entry.’
They lifted the ribbon for Nikki and Yvonne to enter.
A grim-faced uniformed sergeant was waiting on the landing. ‘Doctor’s here, ma’am. They are just about to cut him down.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘Nobody saw him after our visit yesterday. He rang his grocer friend, Ravi, earlier that morning, and said he would collect his order before he closed at midnight. But he never showed.’
‘Who’s the doc on call today?’
‘Dr Sylvia Caulfield, ma’am. His own GP was unavailable.’
Nikki nodded. Good. She had been trying to find an excuse to have a word with Dr Caulfield.
The stair carpet had faded to a grubby indistinct colour. It blended perfectly with the dingy, washed out wallpaper and chipped paintwork. George Ackroyd’s flat was on the top floor. Nikki stepped up onto the landing. George’s apartment door was wide open, and a cluster of men were setting the body down on the floor.
Standing slightly to one side was Dr Sylvia Caulfield.
The doctor was taller than Nikki, but in contrast to the dark shades she favoured, Sylvia was dressed in vivid, flamboyant colours. Nikki thought she looked like a strange exotic bird, caged in some gloomy hold.
‘Nikki! Excellent!’ Sylvia stepped out onto the landing. ‘How are you? I haven’t seen you for ages. At one time we were always bumping into each other.’
‘And on most of those occasions I seem to remember you trying to empty my bank account in aid of some new piece of hospital gadgetry!’
‘Most likely, and I’m sure your ample salary never felt a thing! Now, as for that poor soul,’ she glanced back over her shoulder, ‘it’s most definitely a suicide. Even while he was still hanging there, I could see the characteristic inverted V-shaped bruise on his neck. It was a most determined effort too. He had gone up into the attic and tied the rope around one of the roof rafters. I obviously haven’t looked too closely at the rope, but it looked like he used a pretty professional knot. It paid off. He actually did break his neck. Quite a feat for an amateur.’
Nikki began to feel light-headed. She always hated hangings, they were brutal, and horrible to see. And as Sylvia had just said, they were rarely successful. Most suffered terribly. Rather than breaking the neck and crushing the spinal cord as they intended, they choked and kicked their way into oblivion. She leaned against the wall, trying to make it look casual.
‘Frankly, I think the medical examiner will find this a perfect example of a suicidal hanging.’
Nikki made herself think of practical details. ‘Do you have any idea how long he’s been dead?’
‘At a guess, well over twenty-four hours. Rigor mortis is resolved, body is flaccid, all in all, he’s not very nice to know.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I hope the undertakers bring a body bag with a strong zip. Speak of angels, the Men in Black are upon us! Hello, Len, how’s the wife now?’
‘Evening, Doc. Much better, thanks. Should be on her feet soon. I hear you’ve got a swinger for us?’
Nikki stepped back. ‘We’ll let you gentlemen do what you have to, then we’ll check the flat. It’s too crowded up here.’ So much for her informal chat with Sylvia Caulfield.
Downstairs, she and Yvonne breathed in the fresh, cool air and chatted to the sergeant.
‘I knew him vaguely, ma’am. He had that phobia thing that makes you a prisoner in your own home.’ The officer twisted the blue-and-white tape through his fingers. ‘Poor bloke had a right turn one night. Funny thing that, he could go out at night when it was quiet.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, he was in the minimart — you know, Ravi’s place? Ravi reckoned he was fine, happily doing his shopping, then all of a sudden he looks out the window and starts yellin’ and screamin’. Ravi said a bit of a crowd had just gone past, probably chucked out from the Blue Ball, and it freaked him out. We calmed him down and got him home, made him a cuppa like. He was a right mess.’
‘How long ago was that?’
‘Oh, a month? Six weeks? I can check in my old pocketbook, if you like?’
‘When you have a minute, if you would, Sergeant.’
‘Hang on a minute, ma’am. I think they’re bringing him out.’
They stepped back to make way for the black body bag. Carried by several grunting, heaving men, it came slowly through the narrow doorway and into the waiting undertaker’s van.
Once again Nikki and Yvonne climbed the stairs to the top landing. The flat was tidy, but devoid of all character.
‘Cheerful little garret, isn’t it?’ Dr Caulfield shook her head.
‘Any note?’ asked Nikki.
‘Certainly not in any obvious place,’ said the doctor.
‘We’ll have to give the room a thorough going over. We know a bit about him, he was helping us with some enquiries.’
The doctor seemed to stiffen. ‘Oh Lord! I hope one of your minions didn’t put the frighteners on him and send him over the edge.’
‘I believe someone else had already done that,’ said Nikki.
‘Oh?’ The doctor obviously wanted more.
‘Sorry, Sylvia, can’t say at present. It’s bad enough that he’s topped himself during an investigation, although it really had little to do with him. He was an agoraphobic and we suspect he had other problems as well.’
‘Really? That’s the commonest of all the phobias, you know, but it can keep the sufferer completely housebound. It could well have contributed to his decision to kill himself. Now, this investigation . . .’ Nikki noticed a glint in the doctor’s eye that she didn’t quite understand. ‘Will it mean a police enquiry, if he was involved in an ongoing investigation?’
‘Only the usual one for a sudden death. I very much doubt it will warrant anything more. He was not a suspect, not personally involved in any way. He was just helping us to build up a picture of something that happened a long time ago.’ Nikki tried to be very careful with her words.
‘Let’s hope that the picture wasn’t too much of a nightmare for him.’ In her bright clothes, Sylvia seemed to shimmer around the room. Her eyes darted from place to place, as if she were fixing the room in her mind. ‘Are you working on the Madeline Prospero case, Nikki?’ Her tone was slightly too casual.
Nikki followed suit. They were playing a game now, and both were aware of it. ‘No, one of the other DIs is handling it, thank heavens. Nasty one that.’ Sylvia made no comment, her expression inscrutable. ‘Did you know her, Sylvia?’
‘Not well. I had met her and before you ask, I did know little Louise Lawson, poor kid. Frank and Maria were my patients before they moved into Greenbor
ough town. I used to treat Louise when she was a child.’ Sylvia’s eyes bored into Nikki’s. ‘I do hope that whoever is handling the case will do a speedy and efficient job before that butcher strikes again.’
Nikki’s tone was cool. ‘If a few more people were willing to speak up about what they know, especially about Madeline Prospero, the police would be able to do a much more speedy and efficient job, I’m sure.’
They stood facing each other in silence. Then the sergeant entered and asked Nikki what she would like him to do. ‘Seal it up, Sergeant. We are just leaving. I’ve phoned for a couple of detectives to come and bag up anything relevant. They’ll need to inform any remaining relatives. His mother and father are dead, that I do know, but I’m not sure about any other family.’
Nikki followed Sylvia Caulfield down the stairs, leaving Yvonne to assist the sergeant. Softly, Nikki addressed Sylvia’s retreating back. ‘I believe there is a lot more to the Prospero investigation than has come to light, Sylvia. I’m not heading up the case, but I can pass on information. It can come from any source, even an anonymous one. The murder team can only catch her killer if they know the real Madeline. So far they don’t know her at all.’
They made their way down, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell. When they reached the bottom, Sylvia turned and brought her face close to Nikki’s. Then she turned away and went out into the street.
When she reached her car, she called back. ‘Naturally, Inspector, I shall keep my ear to the ground. I may even hear one or two anonymous voices.’ In a flash of bright colour, she was gone.
Nikki watched the car until it was out of sight.
‘Ma’am, the CID chaps are here. Can they go up?’ the sergeant asked.
Nikki nodded to the sergeant, beckoned to Yvonne and they returned to the car. Nikki sat for a while, gazing out through the windscreen, and then her mobile rang. Unknown number.
‘I’m sorry to call you like this, but you did give me your number, and . . .’ The speaker sounded hesitant.
It took Nikki a second or two to recognise Sally King’s lisp. It was Bert Gilmore’s daughter. Sally asked if they could meet, as soon as possible. Nikki glanced at her watch. She had nothing else planned, did she? ‘Okay, Sally. I’ll drive over to Skegness straight away.’
‘Thank you, Detective Inspector, I’d really appreciate that. Do you think I could see you somewhere else? Actually I am in Greenborough at the moment. There are some seats at the back of the market place, just in front of the parish church. Would you meet me there?’
Nikki agreed. Sally King obviously didn’t want her family to hear what she had to say. ‘Vonnie? Would you drive back to the station, then you get away. I’m going to meet with old Bert Gilmore’s daughter. She sounded quite on edge about something.’
‘I’m happy to come along,’ said Yvonne.
‘No, I’ve got this one covered. You get home. I’ll be needing you bright and early tomorrow.’
* * *
Sally sat alone on a wooden bench, looking cold and miserable. She was wearing faded blue jeans, a creamy chunky knit sweater and a thick waxed jacket.
‘Shall we go inside the church, Mrs King? It stays open until eight, and you look frozen,’ Nikki asked.
‘No, I’m okay, really. Here is fine.’
Sally looked around, as if afraid of someone listening. She spoke in a high voice, little more than a whisper. ‘Did I mention that I am doing a counselling course?’
‘Three-year, person-centred course, isn’t it?’
Sally King stared down at her desert boots. ‘Mmm, and one of the requirements is that you have to go into therapy yourself. I attend counselling every week here in Greenborough. It’s very important that you feel totally comfortable with your therapist, and I wasn’t very happy with my first one so I changed to someone else.’ She swallowed, and took a deep breath. ‘Well, as often happens, old stuff, issues from the past have started to come up.’ She stopped speaking, and Nikki waited while she composed herself. ‘Silly, isn’t it? I chose this sort of counselling because it encourages people to develop self-knowledge without delving into complex childhood experiences. It is a humanistic psychology that lets you take responsibility for your life.’ She sniffed and dabbed at her nose with a tissue. ‘And what happens? I find I’ve got deep dark secrets lurking so far down that I didn’t know they fucking well existed!’ Her voice dropped. ‘I’m so sorry, Inspector, I never swear.’
Nikki smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve heard far worse than that. Often it’s coming out of my own mouth.’
‘But not from me. It’s just that this has really got to me.’
‘Can I help? Is it something you can talk about?’ Nikki spoke gently.
Sally cleared her throat. ‘When we spoke before you were asking me about my childhood, Detective Inspector. I believe that I may have inadvertently told you some untruths.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I was attacked, I did tell you that much. I thought it was a dog. At least, that’s what my father always said. I think something awful happened to me in that churchyard, something that I blocked out so successfully that it’s only now, when I’m in my forties, that it’s coming to the surface.’
‘Does your husband know about this, Sally?’
‘Not yet. I will tell him, though. The thing is, I’ve started having nightmares.’ Sally swallowed again, and blinked. ‘I get the feeling that the truth about what happened in Quintin is about to come out, Inspector, and I’m frightened. You see, it’s not just the fact that I was attacked. I may have witnessed other things too.’
Sally’s hands were trembling violently. Nikki gently took them in hers. ‘Come on, you look like you need a hot drink. Let me take you back to the station for a coffee. I have a private office, and we can continue there, if you’re up to it?’
‘No, really, I have to get home. My husband sorts the kids out while I’m here for my sessions. They are teenagers now, but I still like to be around for them in the evenings.’ Her eyes were wide, full of both fear and bravery. ‘You see, Inspector, my kids, my husband, my home life are everything to me. I love them all so much it hurts. I don’t want to upset or worry them, but I am going to tell them everything that I believe may have happened. With the support of my counsellor, I intend to consult a hypnotherapist. I need to know what happened. My own parents lied to me. In fact, most of Quintin Eaudyke lived one constant lie. I won’t let that poison spread to my precious family.’
‘I applaud your courage, Mrs King. I know that refusing to confront the past can cause damage both now and in the future. All I can say is that I really think you are doing the right thing.’
Sally smiled bitterly. ‘I am relying on the one thing that failed me as a child, the honesty of parents. I just pray that with their support, I can deal with whatever happened. Detective Inspector, I was wondering if you would attend the session? I might only be able to go through it once. If you were there, and heard what I have to say and perhaps taped it, then I could start to let go, and heal.’
‘If that’s what you want, and if your family agrees, of course I will.’
Sally King squeezed Nikki’s hand and stood up. She looked determined now, more resolved. ‘Right. I will get the family together tonight, and then make the appointment. Is there any time that would be inconvenient for you?’
‘My life is flexible, Mrs King. I never know what is happening from one moment to the next, so I’ll make time. You just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there. And, Sally, it’s probably better if you don’t tell anyone else about this. I don’t want to frighten you, but if the hypnotherapy works, you will be the only victim to have faced the truth. Some people have spent their whole lives keeping Quintin’s nasty secrets under wraps, and they might not like you throwing off the cloak.’
Sally pushed her hands into her jeans pockets. ‘I’d already worked that one out. It’s one of the reasons we are stuck around the back of this church, and not in the Tasty Toasty with a cup of tea and a sco
ne! My counsellor, my family, and you, DI Galena, and that’s where it stays. This therapy is for me, so I can get at whatever is trying to come out before it gets to me. It’s not for anyone else. I just want you there in case it transpires that whoever is responsible for what happened is still around to pay for it.’
‘I understand that. Now, just one more thing before you leave. Sally, I think you should know about this before you read it in the papers. Did you know George Ackroyd at all?’
She smiled affectionately. ‘Little Georgie was a bit younger than me. He was a sweet kid. I used to try to look out for him after his mum died, but I haven’t seen him for years. I think he suffered with his nerves.’
Nikki wondered how to respond. Sally clearly did not “remember” that George had also been a victim. ‘I’m really sorry, but we found him dead this morning, Sally. I believe he took his own life. Do you know if there were any brothers or sisters?’
Sally looked shocked. ‘Georgie, dead?’ She seemed confused for a moment, as if an old memory had flared up, and then disappeared. ‘I, uh, no, no, he had no close family. Both of his parents were only children. We always said that Georgie was the only boy in the school not to have any brothers, sisters, aunties or uncles.’
‘And no mother either. He cared very much for his dad, didn’t he?’
Sally grunted. ‘I suppose he had to. He didn’t have anyone but that bully. I saw the bruises on that kid. But I really do have to get off now, Inspector. I’ll call you, okay?’
Sally King crossed the market square towards her car. There goes one brave lady, thought Nikki. But an uneasy feeling gnawed away inside her. She just hoped that Sally’s plans would stay secret.
* * *
By the time all the women had managed to escape their evening duties and drive out to the country house, it was already half past nine.