by Joy Ellis
She arrived at the house, relieved that there was only a faint sliver of light at the horizon. Perhaps she would get the lad who did her garden to take the car to the breaker’s yard. It was good to tie up loose ends.
Her back ached from the night’s exertions. She would run a hot bath. For once, there was no need to set the alarm. She would sleep as late as she liked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DI Gill Mercer was locking her car. She looked as exhausted as Nikki.
‘These damned women are driving me up the bloody wall!’ Gill said.
‘And a very good morning to you too, Gill,’ Nikki replied.
‘Sorry, Nikki, but honestly! The Blunt woman never went to any university that I’ve heard of. Zena Paris has several “missing” years, and Carla Hunt seems to have landed from another galaxy!’
‘And just to really make your morning, one of the Quintin victims, Delia Roberts, is buddies with all three of them.’
‘Bollocks! I think we need to talk, don’t you?’
‘As soon as my team are in, my time is all yours.’
‘I’ll look forward to it. Until then, just call me Confused of Greenborough, okay?’
* * *
‘Ma’am? Would you mind if I took a run out to see old Cyril Roberts? I’d like him to know that he was right about Gordon Hammond, and his old friend was innocent of everything the village accused him of,’ Cat said.
‘Very noble, Cat, but slightly premature, I think. If he contacts us, you could let him know, but let’s spend our precious time going after our killer, shall we?’ Nikki smiled at her. ‘It can be your job, once we get to it. Now, Ben, I want you to get out to all Delia Roberts’s acquaintances. She is on our guest list at the Briar Patch last night, and I want to know who invited her. If she went to the club, then she may well have known Madeline Prospero or the Lawson family. She certainly never shared that when we interviewed her.’
‘As I recall, she didn’t share much at all, did she?’
‘No, she didn’t.’ Nikki looked from Ben to Cat. ‘Maybe you should go after all, Cat. Ask Cyril Roberts about his daughter. Give him your good news, but tell him to keep quiet about it. He may feel more inclined to talk if he knows that his old mate really was innocent. I want to know when he saw Delia last. At your last interview with him, he said something about, “not what you know, but who you know,” referring to her posh job. So check that out, okay? And his wife too. I need to know if she ever sees her daughter. I’d ask Cyril rather than her. He seems to know everything there is to know about her business.’
‘Righto, boss. I’m on my way.’ Cat grabbed her bag and car keys and was gone. Ben left soon afterwards. Nikki and Joseph remained alone in the office.
‘How long will forensics take, do you think?’ he asked.
‘The lab is rushing it through for me, but your guess is as good as mine.’
Nikki’s phone rang. It sounded shrill in the empty office.
Rory’s voice was muffled. She realised he was yawning. ‘Two traces of Midnight Orchid, and I’m hoping your preliminary DNA results will be through in twenty-four hours. Fingerprints are running through as we speak. I can do no more at present and I’m going home. Good day.’
‘Thank you, Rory. I really do owe you one.’
‘Oh yes, you certainly do! Baggy eyes indeed, whatever next.’
Nikki relayed the news to Joseph.
‘That’s quick! I thought DNA testing took weeks.’
‘Rory said that they use a technique called PCR, where they chemically replicate tiny samples until there is enough to work on. Apparently it’s really fast. He thinks that with the use of new computer software, it won’t be too long before we get answers back in minutes rather than days.’
Joseph smiled. ‘Criminals will have to wear sterile spacesuits.’
‘Could slow up their getaway somewhat.’
‘On that note, what good old-fashioned CID work would you like me to do this morning?’
‘First, find out how Constable Steve Royal is, then check on the status of the victims that are under surveillance. I’ll be with Gill Mercer if you need me.’ Nikki cocked her head to one side. ‘You’re looking much brighter, my friend.’
‘I had a call from Tamsin last night. Laura turned up on the doorstep and wasn’t too impressed when they handed her a paint roller and a boiler suit.’
A broad grin spread across Nikki’s face. ‘Very fetching!’
‘Then she launched into a full on gripe about me not returning her calls, and received a lecture on the finer points of working a multiple murder investigation.’
‘From Niall?’
‘No, from Tamsin! The upshot was that Laura is considering moving back to Switzerland. It seems that her organisation has decided it can’t do without her after all, and quite a few olive branches are being proffered.’
‘Oh, that is good news!’ Nikki put her arms round him, and for a moment they held each other close.
Then, still smiling, Joseph gently held her at arm’s length, looked at her and asked, ‘Back to normal?’
‘Bring it on,’ sighed Nikki.
‘Let’s go catch Avril Hammond, shall we?’
* * *
Cyril Roberts stood beside a crackling bonfire of dead wood and garden rubbish. Every now and then he would throw on another forkful of dry material, and stand back as the sparks and flames shot into the air. ‘Always keeps a bit o’ dry stuff under cover, then when it’s going well I can put the damp cuttings on.’
Cat said nothing. The glowing embers and the smell of the fire transported her back to childhood bonfire nights.
‘So I was right all along. He never done it, none of it. Not even once?’ Cyril looked at her.
‘The only thing he was guilty of was loving his daughter too much. He covered up her terrible cruelty when he should have found professional help for her.’
‘He was never the same since his boy got killed, miss. I ’spect he feared he’d lose her too, and he just didn’t deal with it right.’
‘He certainly didn’t, Cyril. If she’d been helped as a small child, he’d probably still be alive, and all this death and pain may have been averted.’
‘Seems to me she was just born rotten. Nothing would have stopped that sort of evil from finding a way to manifest itself. When I think of what a lovely girl she seemed to be, and all the while . . .’ Cyril took an old plastic sack of leaves and poured them onto the flames. The small dry leaves leapt into the air in a spiral of sparks, and the larger damper ones formed a smoky blanket over the hottest part of the fire. ‘She used to come into the shop and help me, you know. Clean up and lay the meat out. She had more interest in the trade than my own daughter.’ He looked at Cat again. ‘And you think she might have hurt my Delia, too?’
‘We don’t know for sure, but it seems that way. She, your Delia that is, doesn’t say much.’
‘She did change. But I wasn’t lying last time we spoke. I really believed it was like I told you. Perhaps I didn’t want to see what was going on. If I’d known then what I know now, maybe things would be different. We’re always wise in hindsight, miss.’
‘How long is it since you’ve seen your daughter, Cyril?’
‘Must be five or six years I suppose.’
‘Oh, Cyril, I am so sorry. I thought she just called in as and when her work allowed, not that she didn’t visit at all!’
‘It’s the same for her mother. Whatever I think of her, she did love our Delia and the girl has no call to ignore her like she does.’
‘Does she phone?’
‘No. I rang her workplace once. Her mother was none too special, had the shingles real bad, she did. Anyway, I thought the girl should know. She never even returned my call. Someone from her company rang her mother and asked if it was really urgent, and she told them to poke off. So, no, she doesn’t phone.’
‘We went to her workplace to talk to her, but she was anxious to get back to an important
meeting, and didn’t have time for us.’
‘How was she? Did she look well?’
‘She looked very elegant, very much the career woman.’
‘Well, who would have thought it? Do you know, at one time, miss, I hoped she would follow me into the butcher’s trade. Roberts and Daughter, Master Butchers. But no, as I said before she had no interest. Then she found herself some new swanky friends and they helped her get into some posh job. Word has it she earns more in one week than I ever did in six months.’ Cyril piled more rubbish onto the fire. ‘Well, if that’s the case, she won’t need what I have put aside when I go.’
‘Do you know any of the people she took up with?’
‘No, sorry. I’d kind of lost interest by then.’
‘Do you have a photograph of Delia, or maybe of Avril, Cyril?’
He smiled sadly and shook his head. ‘I had a bonfire about a year ago.’
Cat thanked him, turned to leave and then paused. ‘Cyril? Would you like to see her again? Delia, I mean.’
He leaned on his fork and stared at a smouldering piece of wood that had rolled from the fire. ‘At one time, not that long ago, I would have taken a meat cleaver to my own arm if it meant I could see her again, but now? No, I don’t think so, thanks very much.’
* * *
‘Let me get this straight. Zena told us she had an antique shop along the Fulham Road in London, am I right?’ Gill was frowning.
‘Yes, it was her shop, she said.’
‘Well, it looks as if she may have worked in an antique shop there, but she certainly never owned one. She also said that she lived near World’s End on the King’s Road, but we can’t trace her there at all. It was well seedy back then, not very salubrious at all. So where did the money come from to buy that upmarket emporium, Paris Antiques?’
‘Shall we pay her another call?’
‘Two of my team are there now. I couldn’t face her again. I’ve taken on the mysterious Carla Hunt, Greenborough Business Woman of the Year 2016, who has no past at all that I can discover.’
‘Change of name?’
‘No doubt. But I’ve never before come up against such a brick wall.’
‘Then you’ve never interviewed Delia Roberts. She’s exactly the same.’
‘And the Mad Professor Blunt! I took a look at her diplomas . . .’
Nikki grinned. ‘Really? I think I could arrest you for that.’
‘Yeah, right, well, they are all fake. The first odd thing I noticed was that they were mounted in identical frames. Then I took a look at the photo of her in her academic gown, and it’s been photoshopped. You know I did a spell in the fraud squad, right? Well, it stood out a mile. It was a skilled computer composition that cropped her face out of one picture and pasted it onto another. I should think she knows as much about ancient history as I do about chicken sexing!’
‘Which is . . . ?’
‘Have you ever examined a chicken?’ Gill pulled a face at Nikki. Her phone rang. ‘DI Mercer. What? Where? We’ll get someone down to the hospital right away, and thanks.’ She slammed the receiver down. ‘Greenborough A&E. They have a young girl, found wandering out near Quintin Fen early this morning. She’s disorientated, pretty battered and bruised. The casualty consultant thinks we should attend, as he’s certain she has been the victim of a sex attack. Oh yes, and she’s been given a powerful tranquiliser.’
‘Date rape?’
‘On a grand scale, by the sound of it. Coming with me?’
‘No. I’ll hold the fort here. Can you do me a favour, Gill? Check her cheeks for traces of Midnight Orchid lipstick, will you?’
* * *
Nikki sat back in her chair, and the phone began to ring. Dave rang to say that Delia Roberts was not at work. She had taken two days leave prior to going off to Holland for a business symposium. He had rung her home number, but only got an answerphone, so he was returning to the station. Cat phoned to say that Cyril and his ex-wife had not seen their daughter for five or more years, and finally Gill Mercer confirmed that there was a smudge of lipstick on the girl’s cheek. It was a deep magenta colour.
Joseph ticked another name on his list. ‘All seems well with Lucy Clarke and Peter Lee. Delia Roberts hasn’t been seen yet this morning. Her curtains are still drawn and as Dave says she’s on leave for a few days, she’s probably having a lie in. Our PC Steve Royal on the other hand, is not faring so well.’
Nikki looked up from the report she was reading. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘They are pleased with his physical recovery, but apparently he is pretty down about his facial scarring. More so than the doctors think is healthy. I’ve spoken to his mother, and she says that his personal appearance is very important to him. He’s having trouble coming to terms with the fact that even after plastic surgery, he won’t ever regain his looks.’
‘Poor little sod. There’s not much we can do on that score, is there?’
‘Several of the WPCs have been visiting him, telling him scars make a man look really rugged and attractive, but he’s having none of it. The hospital suggested counselling.’
The mention of counselling made Nikki think of Sally King. ‘It may help if Doc Foley talks to him. I’ll ask him when he rings me about Sally’s condition.’ She returned to her report, read the same line three times and pushed it away. She picked up the list of guests at the Briar Patch auction. There they all were, as in Spooky’s original list of members, plus about ten other guests, none of them known to Nikki, other than Delia Roberts and Harriet “the Rottweiler” Page, Zena’s lover.
The office door opened and Dave grumbled his way to his desk. ‘Waste of bloody time that was! I should have rung ahead.’ He took off his jacket and flopped into his chair.
Before Nikki could ask him anything, Cat hurried into the room. ‘I’ve just seen DI Mercer’s sergeant in the main corridor, ma’am. He said to tell you that they didn’t have much luck with Zena Paris. Her manageress was off for a couple of days and she was too busy to see them.’ She flung her shoulder bag down on her desk and made for the coffee machine. ‘It’s sad that Cyril hasn’t seen his daughter for so long, isn’t it?’
‘Avril Hammond’s wickedness seems to have touched the lives of almost all the inhabitants of Quintin Eaudyke, doesn’t it? Past and present. She seems to have blighted everything she ever touched.’ Joseph looked grave. ‘And she still is. Whoever she is.’
‘That’s possibly the worst thing, isn’t it?’ Nikki stared at the list of names. ‘Everything tells us that we have her name right here in front of us. She’s quite probably one of these women, and any one of the others could be her next victim. We can’t watch them all, and half of them aren’t who they say they are. Frankly, unless we can get hold of a picture of her, we are pretty well snookered.’ Nikki realised that her mobile was ringing. ‘Yes, Gill? What’s the score with your girl?’
The voice was tinny, the line full of static. ‘We’re pretty sure she’s another one of Avril’s playthings, but I can’t think why she’s been allowed to live.’
Nikki asked if the girl remembered anything.
‘No. It was a very nasty drug. The doctor in charge of her case said that it’s comparatively new, and its effects vary. The hallucinations can recur, a bit like having a fit, he said, and they have no idea what the long-term damage can be.’ Through another patch of distortion, Gill said she would ring later, when she found a better signal. Nikki vaguely understood that they were leaving a uniformed officer with the girl.
Nikki ended the call. This case seemed to be dragging on forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was four o’clock. A thin drizzle covered the town like a sheet. Nikki was staring out of a window when Richard Foley rang.
‘She’s doing well, Nikki. Better than I ever hoped. It will take time, but Sally shows remarkable strength of character. I believe her love for her husband and children will get her through this,’ Richard said.
‘Thank God on
e of them has survived the curse of Avril Hammond,’ Nikki replied.
‘I’ve been thinking about her. In fact, having spent several hours with Sally today, I’ve thought about little else. I suggest you narrow down your search to a woman who a) lives alone, b) whose job either gives her some kind of relief from her cravings or a considerable amount of flexibility, and, c) who is known for being highly promiscuous, or manages to juggle several lovers. I believe she keeps her urge to kill at bay with unconventional, and multifarious, sexual encounters.’
‘Thanks for that, Richard. I’ll take another look at our list of suspects with all that in mind. Without a photo, we have no idea what she even looks like.’ Nikki remembered to ask if he would have a word with PC Royal.
Nikki felt a strange, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely it wasn’t a premonition? Then Yvonne burst in through the door. ‘I’ve got one! A picture of the young Avril!’
Nikki jumped up. ‘I wondered where you’d gone! Show me.’
She took the old photograph and stared at it. Disappointment flooded through her. The child was around seven, and like most of them at that age, something of a blank canvas.
‘Where did you find it?’
‘Doc Draper’s wife. She kept scrap books of village life back in the seventies and eighties. She’d been searching through them all morning. This was taken at a May Day procession.’
‘Let’s take it to our new computer room and see if Spooky and her gang are all they are cracked up to be, shall we?’
Outside, the fine rain had turned into a steady downpour, and the sky was dark with heavy cloud. Nightfall would come early.
She, Joseph and the rest of the team waited while Spooky scanned the picture into her computer. Those few minutes were some of the longest of Nikki’s life. The only sounds were the humming of the computers and Spooky’s fingers tapping on the keyboard.
A row of boxes appeared on the screen. The first held the original picture, cropped, enhanced and showing just the child’s face. Then the boxes showed the same face growing progressively older, until Spooky froze the last one and zoomed it out so that it filled the screen.