BURIED ON THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Joy Ellis

  She shivered. It had to be later than three in the morning. She increased her pace and fumbled in her pocket for her car keys. She was not normally a nervous person, but the recent horrible events in Greenborough were fresh in her mind.

  She almost dropped the key as she tried to press the unlock button. She almost fell inside, slammed the door and locked it. With the engine running, she looked again towards the seabank. There had been something familiar about that figure, but now the night skyline showed only racing clouds and shadowy moonlight.

  She accelerated away and pulled out onto the straight drove across the farmland. Her heart was slamming against her rib cage, and she prayed that the sick child’s parents would not call her out again that night.

  At the intersection, she turned left onto the main road, and her fear slowly began to subside. She switched on the radio and slipped the car into top, wondering about that figure up on the bank. Was it Spooky, watching out for her alien visitors? But the shape was all wrong, and Spooky said she had abandoned her nocturnal forays for the time being.

  So who? A poacher? Maybe. There had been rumours about lamping along this stretch. But why had it looked so familiar?

  By the time she got to West Salterby, she was convinced it was a woman. Later, before sleep finally claimed her, and still searching for an answer, she decided it was time to go to Nikki Galena and tell her what she knew about Madeline Prospero.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Cat sat down opposite Nikki. ‘Cyril Roberts denies ever going near St Augustine’s, ma’am, and he doesn’t want us visiting him either. He says he’s out all day today.’

  ‘No point in driving out there then, Cat. We’re too busy to waste our time on him and his ruddy rabbits.’ Nikki had not slept well. It had dawned on her in the early hours of the morning that her cousin, as well as several of her friends, were in mortal danger.

  ‘I rang King’s Lynn last night, ma’am, before I went home. They will get back to me soon about the dead drug addict in the squat.’ Dave was piling up sheaves of reports and sticking post-it notes on them. ‘If we can get a name for her, and Avril did steal her identity, then at least we’d know what Avril was calling herself.’

  ‘Absolutely. It’s another piece in the jigsaw.’ Nikki looked down a short list of names that she had just drawn up. ‘Cat? I’d like you and Ben to try to have a word with a couple of these Briar Patch women. They are ones that Spooky couldn’t take to. It’s a long shot, but sometimes you don’t like someone for a very good reason, even if you have no idea what it is.’

  She nodded. ‘Gut feelings. I agree. So which ones are they?’

  ‘Celia Kenington, and Charlene Crawford. I’ve got their contact numbers here, but maybe you should just drop in unannounced.’

  ‘Good move. I’ll find Ben then get the car.’

  * * *

  It didn’t take long to get to the lawyer’s offices, but unfortunately Celia Kenington was due in court and could only give them a few minutes.

  ‘I knew very little about Madeline, and I never actually met Maria’s daughter, Louise, so I fail to see that I can be of help, officers.’

  ‘We need all the information we can get about the women who might have been involved with Madeline Prospero.’ Ben said.

  ‘Involved in what context?’

  ‘In any capacity,’ added Cat. ‘We have reason to believe that it was a women who killed Madeline.’

  Celia Kenington’s eyes narrowed. ‘I see.’

  Cat could almost hear the woman’s brain making calculations.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I still can’t help you. Madeline was never in my close circle of friends, and to be honest, I never recall hearing of her being involved with anyone that I knew of. And,’ she looked at her watch, ‘I really have to go now.’

  Outside in the car, Cat looked at Ben and said, ‘I can see why Spooky didn’t like her. She’s not exactly the warm and fluffy type.’

  ‘Do you know any warm and fluffy lawyers?’

  ‘Point taken, but she is particularly spiky, isn’t she?’

  ‘Positively cactus-like! Let’s hope the next one is a little more human, shall we?’ He put the key in the ignition. ‘Directions please.’

  ‘It’s not far, back onto the main road and it’s just on the outskirts of Greenborough. Three or four minutes, if the traffic is clear.’ She sat back and decided that they might be at the heart of a multiple murder investigation, but it was a long time since she had felt so utterly happy.

  They drove to Greenborough Hospital in a companionable silence.

  ‘Do we know which department Charlene works in?’ Ben asked when they arrived.

  ‘Path lab, I believe, but there are several laboratories here. I’ll get the switchboard to call her for us.’

  ‘Or just ring the mobile number that the boss gave us,’ Ben said, as he finally found a parking space.

  Cat rang the number and it was answered almost immediately.

  ‘I’ll meet you in the café. My department is in the bowels of the hospital, you’d need satnav to find me, Charlene said. ‘I’ll just need to clear it with my boss and I’ll see you there shortly.’

  ‘Sounds friendly enough,’ said Cat, pushing her phone back into her pocket.

  ‘Don’t be deceived.’ Ben threw her a warning look as he locked the car.

  ‘As if!’ Cat grinned at Ben. It was so good to be working with him again. It was a very long time since she had felt this comfortable with someone, and she was pretty sure that it was fully reciprocated.

  They went into the hospital, found the big airy café area and took a seat away from other people. ‘I suggest we grab a coffee while we are here. The usual?’

  ‘Please.’

  Ben went up to the counter. Cat noticed a tall, slender woman in a white lab coat looking across the tables. She had long, dark chestnut hair, and Cat could see beautifully made-up eyes behind her dark-rimmed glasses. She wasn’t what Cat had been expecting. She raised her hand and the woman smiled and walked towards her. As she approached, Cat checked for Midnight-Orchid-coloured lipstick, but apart from the eyes, she wore no other make-up at all.

  ‘DS Cullen? I’m Charlene Crawford. You wanted to talk to me?’

  ‘Thank you for taking the time. Yes, we are anxious to speak to you about Madeline Prospero.’

  Before she could answer, Ben arrived with three coffees. ‘I hope you’re not a tea drinker?’ He smiled at Charlene and placed the cup in front of her.

  ‘That’s great, thanks.’ Charlene looked from one to the other, ‘But I’m not sure that I can help you with information about Madeline. I certainly knew her, but I found her, well, rather,’ she paused, ‘if I say she was too nice, you’d think I was being silly, but she was a really sweet woman, and one I just never got to socialise with. We went to the same club, I’m sure you know about the Briar? Madeline seemed to float around like a beautiful butterfly, but she never made an impact on me.’

  ‘Can we ask . . . ?’ Cat lowered her voice. ‘If . . . well . . . ’

  ‘If my employers are aware of my sexual orientation?’ Charlene smiled. ‘Not exactly. I don’t make a thing of it. It’s no one’s business, is it?’

  Cat noticed that she was constantly fiddling with her hospital security badge that hung on a cord around her neck. ‘I’m sorry to have to ask personal questions, but it’s necessary. It’s a murder enquiry.’

  ‘Did you know who Madeline was particularly friendly with, Charlene?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Like a partner? No. She wasn’t gay. Or I never believed that she was. She was signed in by Zena, and according to her, Madeline just liked the girl’s company.’ She frowned. ‘I understood that she was quite a high-powered businesswoman and she liked to get away from the stress of work by chilling out with Zena and the other women.’

  ‘The words, sweet, nice, and high-powered, don’t really go together, do they?’ asked Cat.

  ‘Maybe not, but that was Maddie.’ Charle
ne sipped her coffee. ‘And to be honest, that’s all I know about her. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.’

  ‘What do you do here, Charlene? Path lab, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, lowly technician. Examining disgusting stuff that you really do not want to know about.’

  Ben grimaced. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’

  Charlene looked at them, and for the first time Cat saw anxiety in her face as she asked, ‘Considering everything that has happened, am I in danger?’

  Cat sighed. She hated lying, but she also hated scaring people. ‘You do have a connection to the Briar Patch, so we cannot say for certain. We would suggest that you be vigilant, that’s all I can say. Don’t go anywhere alone late at night, but please don’t panic. This probably has nothing to do with you, but until we apprehend someone, just be careful.’

  The woman nodded. ‘We all feel the same. None of us want to admit it, but we are all terrified we might be next.’

  ‘Do you have a partner?’

  ‘I have a girlfriend that I am in a relationship with, but it’s pretty casual, and that suits us both.’

  ‘Is she one of the Briar Patch members?’ asked Cat.

  ‘No, she’s not a bar-loving sort of girl. Would you like her name?’

  Ben took it down, then leaned forward. ‘As my colleague said, Charlene, just be vigilant.’ He passed her his card. ‘And ring us if anything worries you, anything at all.’

  ‘Or if you hear of anything that could help our enquiries.’ Cat added.

  ‘I will. And thank you for the coffee.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I must get back. My supervisor is not exactly impressed when we take time out.’

  ‘Thank you for talking to us.’ Ben politely stood up as Charlene left them.

  ‘Not quite what I imagined,’ he said softly.

  ‘Me neither, although I have no idea what I did expect.’

  ‘She was nervous, wasn’t she? The hospital ID? And constantly adjusting her glasses?’

  ‘I’d be nervous if I thought a psycho was lurking somewhere in the near vicinity.’ Ben frowned. ‘We’d better get back. That was not exactly informative, was it?’

  ‘Oh well, at least we had a coffee break out of it.’

  * * *

  ‘Nikki? For you.’ Joseph held out the receiver.

  ‘DI Nikki Galena. Can I help you?’ She listened to the doctor, and glanced at her watch. ‘Fifteen minutes then, I’ll be there.’ She passed the phone back to Joseph. ‘I’ll be out for about an hour. Cover the office, and ring my mobile if you need to.’ She picked up her coat and bag. ‘And make sure no one misses Richard Foley’s chat after lunch. Remind them all individually if necessary. And when you get a minute, ring Dr John Draper out at Quintin about those newspaper cuttings.’

  Joseph nodded.

  * * *

  Nikki parked her car beside the lockkeeper’s cottage. Oblivious to the cold wind, Sylvia Caulfield was staring down into the foaming green grey waters of the river.

  Nikki buttoned her coat and got out of the car. There was no one else around. She stood beside Sylvia. The waters looked deep and unfriendly.

  ‘Madeline.’ Sylvia pronounced the name almost with reverence. ‘There are several reasons why I chose not to speak out. To begin with, she made me promise, and I am not in the habit of breaking promises.’ Her eyes followed the path of a cluster of sea birds that swooped and dived long the wide waterway. ‘Then, certain Briar Patch members begged me to keep quiet, in order to prevent lives, careers and domestic situations from being shattered. Finally, the women voted on whether to protect their privacy or go to the police. I voted in favour of speaking out but it went against me. However,’ she inhaled, ‘I feel that many of them do not appreciate the danger they have put themselves and their loved ones in. I believe that I should speak out. The club has done wonderful things in its time, but now we are living in a more understanding and liberal society, and the Briar Patch may have outlived its purpose. I am going to suggest it be dissolved.’

  Nikki stood quietly and let Sylvia talk.

  ‘Madeline Prospero had a ghastly childhood, dominated by a straight-laced, authoritarian father. They lived in a rambling old house that was about as warm and welcoming as a catacomb. Her mother died when she was three. From an early age, Madeline realised that if she were to survive, she would have to become utterly devious, and she succeeded admirably.’ Sylvia gave a slight smile. ‘As soon as she realised that she preferred girls to boys, Madeline proceeded to construct an elaborate double life. She had to hold the family business together, run a home, and weave her tapestry of lies while leading an ostensibly “normal” hectic social life. With all this, Maddie never got round to a real relationship with anybody.’

  Sylvia turned to Nikki. ‘Let’s sit in my car before we freeze to the bloody ground.’ Inside the warm car, Sylvia continued her story. ‘Considering the times we live in, Madeline discovered sex quite late in life. Initially it was a great disappointment to her. Then she met a woman who showed her that there are endless ways to give and take pleasure, and a new world opened up to her. After years of deceiving her father and the rest of the world, Madeline had little trouble blending quietly into lesbian circles, selecting her erotic playmates with the greatest of care. She always chose the loners, those who didn’t partake in the usual gossip. She never mixed with them socially, and instead spent her time with the wider group. Her needs were becoming harder to satisfy.’

  Sylvia looked out of the window and her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I hate doing this! I know she’s dead, but I hate talking about her, when I promised—’

  ‘You have no choice, Sylvia. Madeline is beyond help or hurt, but you can help others, and time is running out.’

  Sylvia took a deep, shaky breath. ‘Someone found out about Maddie and her particular sexual appetite, and they started to pester her.’

  ‘I know about the flowers and the gifts.’

  ‘Then you know only what she told poor Zena. Maddie was being stalked, although she didn’t quite see it that way, and she did meet the woman who was chasing her.’

  ‘I thought Zena was her closest friend, and knew everything about her?’

  ‘That was part of Madeline’s strategy. She spent years cultivating Zena. She even engineered their initial meeting. Zena was the perfect cover. Sisterly love, all very touchy-feely, safe and acceptable.’

  ‘What about the woman who was courting her?’ Nikki asked.

  ‘Madeline told me that this new lover took her to unimaginable heights. They did things Madeline had never dreamed possible. I never knew if it was all a fantasy. After all, most of her life was a lie.’

  Nikki considered this. ‘Sylvia, why were you so close to each other? Why weren’t you just another figure on her stage, acting out a part she assigned for you?’

  ‘I was her first love affair. Yes, the one that disappointed her so much.’ Sylvia gave a short, bitter laugh.

  Nikki kept her face impassive. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Let’s just say our tastes differed. I like my lovemaking to have romance and mutual pleasure. Rose petals on the pillow and nibbled earlobes failed to turn her on, and inflicting or receiving pain was repugnant to me. We decided it was better for us just to be platonic friends. Amid all the deceit, Maddie needed someone she could be honest with, and that person was me.’

  ‘Why do you think she never told you who the exciting new lover was?’

  ‘I get the feeling it was someone known to me. Possibly — and I’m only guessing — a patient of mine. On several occasions I thought she was about to reveal her identity, but each time something stopped her.’

  ‘I think there is little doubt that her lover took their final act of S&M a step too far. It must have finished in a frenzy that culminated in her killing Madeline. Sylvia, do you know anyone with a reputation for enjoying extreme bondage, or worse?’

  ‘Frankly, no. Like anyone, whatever their orientation, some of the girls enjoy expl
oring new sexual terrain every now and then. I’m sure plenty of them are not averse to the occasional erotic adventure, but for the most part it’s just cocoa and cuddles.’

  ‘I’m going to need the names of anyone she might have been seeing. If they had similar sexual preferences, they could be targets for our killer.’

  Sylvia Caulfield reached into the glovebox and removed a pen and notepad. She scribbled down three names and addresses and passed the page to Nikki. ‘If you can find a way to keep my name out of it, I would be grateful. But I still don’t understand why young Louise Lawson was killed. She was a heterosexual teenager who had very little contact with her mother’s friends. So why her?’

  ‘I have no idea, but we are certain it was the same killer.’

  Sylvia was silent for a moment. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about that child. Perhaps I could tell you something?’ She seemed to be choosing her words. ‘It’s my opinion that her mother is not reacting exactly as I would expect.’

  Nikki almost laughed. ‘Is there a right way to behave when your daughter has been brutally murdered?’

  Sylvia gave her a caustic look. ‘I know very well that it doesn’t go by rote. Individuals react in a wide variety of ways, but the process usually passes through different stages. Loss, denial, guilt and so on. That’s well known, and I happen to agree with the Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle, though there are other models. Whatever, Maria is not conforming.’

  ‘How so? When we interviewed her she was distraught. It seemed natural enough to the experienced officer who dealt with her.’

  Sylvia let out a long sigh. ‘I’ve seen her twice a day since it happened. She is expressing shock, horror, and fear. Mainly fear. Nikki, I know you can’t interrogate her, she’s almost at breaking point, but I think she knows or suspects something.’

  ‘Like who the killer is?’

  ‘Like she may have seen Maddie with her new lover.’ Her voice was serious. ‘This has only just come back to me. The weekend Louise was killed Maria had to go up to Yorkshire. Just before she went, she rang me to ask about a medication that her own GP had prescribed for her. She wasn’t very happy about taking it. Anyway, she was about to hang up when she laughed and said that she had some class A gossip for me. I would never guess who she had just seen getting into a cab together. Then she said she’d keep me guessing until she got back. I’m beginning to wonder if whatever she saw sealed Louise’s death warrant. What puzzles me though, is why Louise, and not Maria herself?’