by D. S. Butler
‘You’ve worked with me for a long time, Rick. I do things by the book. I wouldn’t rush into something without the evidence to back it up, but you have to admit Jasper Palmer looks mighty suspicious at the moment.’
‘I agree.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
‘Well, it’s just you bring his name up a lot. Not just Jasper but the Palmer family, and I know you think they were somehow involved in Amy Fisher’s disappearance.’
‘I’d bet a lot of money on it, Rick.’
‘Exactly. You’re convinced they’re guilty of that and so your history with the Palmers is influencing the way you’re looking at this case.’
‘So, I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that a man matching Jasper Palmer’s description was seen a couple of hours before the girls went missing talking to another young girl outside a primary school?’
Rick groaned. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, I didn’t mean to say you weren’t doing your job properly. Please don’t think that.’
‘It’s quite hard not to when you say things like that, Rick.’ Karen took a deep breath and then said, ‘I’m coming back to the station now. We’ll discuss it there.’
She hung up, shoved her phone back in her bag and glared at it.
Rick was being ridiculous. She wasn’t obsessed with the Palmers at all, but it was hard to ignore the possibility they were involved.
Nigel Palmer was weak and infirm, but maybe he had his son doing his dirty work. It had always puzzled Karen how Amy Fisher, a strong, healthy nineteen-year-old, could have been overpowered by a man like Nigel Palmer. Eighteen months ago, he hadn’t been as ill as he was now, but it was still a conundrum.
She’d considered the possibility that Amy had been drugged, but now she strongly suspected Nigel wasn’t acting alone. Perhaps the son shared his father’s sick obsession with young girls. Perhaps Jasper acted as the muscle, and Nigel Palmer was the brains behind the operation.
She didn’t enjoy Rick talking to her like that, but she appreciated his candour. She’d have to be on her guard now when talking to DI Morgan and the superintendent. She couldn’t take the risk of getting shunted off this case. Not if it was her chance to bring the Palmers down once and for all.
Fortunately the traffic was light and Karen made good time getting back to Nettleham HQ. She’d given herself a talking-to in the car. She’d play it cool and not give away any signs that she was desperate to haul Jasper Palmer in for questioning.
DI Morgan was an excellent officer. Karen had no reason to believe he wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as she had about the Palmers. She just needed to bide her time and not lose her temper.
She was striding along the third-floor corridor towards the office when one of the doors opened and Rick stuck his head out.
‘Sarge, we’re in here.’
They were in AV room one, where the audiovisual equipment included several large computers and playback devices as well as other technical gadgetry.
DI Morgan and Sophie were already seated around a computer screen. Karen and Rick joined them. They were looking at CCTV images taken from the recording. Rick reached for the mouse and began flicking through the freeze-frames.
Karen leaned forward, her fingers gripping the back of Sophie’s chair. The images weren’t great quality. They were a bit dark and grainy and the colours were unsaturated. It was clear the man captured on the CCTV had red hair, but Karen had to admit it didn’t appear quite as bright red as Jasper Palmer’s. Judging his height in relation to the school gates, he looked a little shorter than Jasper Palmer. Karen’s stomach dropped. Maybe he was slouching?
‘Do you get a view of his face at all?’ Karen asked.
Rick peered at the computer screen and clicked on the mouse, scrolling through the images until he had one of the man in profile.
It wasn’t good enough. Rick had been correct. There was no way they could identify Jasper Palmer from this.
Disappointment curled up and sank like a stone in Karen’s stomach. But this didn’t mean it was the end of the road. They still had descriptions from Tessa and Rachel, and if they could get an identification that way, it would be good enough.
‘How did you get on with Rachel Macintosh?’ DI Morgan asked.
‘Good. She was a bit subdued, but I think it was just the stress of the situation. Plus, of course, her mother was very worried and that can always rub off on children.’
DI Morgan nodded thoughtfully. ‘The suspect didn’t say anything to Rachel?’
‘He asked her the time and told her she had pretty hair.’
Sophie shivered. ‘That’s a bit creepy.’
‘And did the teacher remember anything else?’
Karen shook her head. ‘She got a brief glance but didn’t speak to him. She knows he’s got red hair.’ Karen turned and looked back at the CCTV image. ‘It could be him.’
The words slipped out before she could stop them. So much for playing it cool.
DI Morgan narrowed his eyes. ‘You mean Jasper Palmer?’
Karen took a deep breath and turned to face her boss. ‘That’s right.’
She was starting to push her luck. The last thing she wanted was DI Morgan thinking she was unstable, but she had to make him see there was a strong possibility that Jasper Palmer had abducted the girls. But maybe she was looking for patterns when there were none to be found. Sound judgement was so important for a police officer and before the accident Karen had never doubted her own. She’d been wrong to think there was something sinister behind the car crash that killed Josh and Tilly. Was she wrong now too?
DI Morgan looked back at the image. ‘The man’s hair looks darker than Jasper’s. Almost auburn in this picture.’
Karen considered his point. ‘But the picture quality is terrible. Look at the colour of the grass. That looks dark too. Besides, he could have some gel on his hair or something. Maybe it was wet. Had it been raining?’ Karen tried to think back to yesterday lunchtime.
DI Morgan shook his head. ‘It was cloudy and overcast, but it wasn’t raining.’
‘Look, I think we should invest some manpower in searching the Palmers’ property. They have numerous outbuildings and barns scattered all over their land. It can’t hurt to take a good look.’ She caught a glance pass between DI Morgan and Rick, and Karen felt her temper build. Did they think she’d lost perspective on this case? Maybe she had. There was no hard evidence pointing to Nigel Palmer or his son so why couldn’t she let it go? The looks on their faces reminded Karen she still hadn’t booked an appointment with her counsellor.
Sophie seemed the only one who hadn’t picked up on the tension. She shrugged. ‘The Palmers have provided keys every time we’ve asked them. All their outbuildings have been included in the search.’
Karen noticed she was wringing her hands and shoved them in the pockets of her trousers. ‘Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that Jasper Palmer was the one who found the glove? On his land? I can’t help feeling he’s laughing at us. Playing some kind of sick game. We should bring him in.’
DI Morgan grimaced. ‘It’s too soon. If he’s involved, we don’t want the rest of the family panicking and hiding evidence. We’ll talk to him, though.’
‘Great,’ Karen said. ‘We should talk to him as soon as possible. Afterwards, we can show a picture of Jasper to Tessa Grimes. Hopefully she can identify him, so we don’t have to rely on Rachel Macintosh’s ID.’
‘Right, you try and track him down. He could be working anywhere on the farm today.’
Back at her desk, Karen located the number for the Palmer farm. There was every chance Jasper had his mobile on him while working in the fields, but Karen didn’t have his number.
She dialled the farmhouse, and on the fourth ring a female voice answered.
‘Hello, Cathy, is that you? This is DS Karen Hart.’
There was a pause on the line before Cathy answered. Her voice sounded reedy and thin. ‘Yes, is somethin
g wrong?’
‘I need to speak to Jasper, Cathy. It’s important, and I wondered if you could tell me where he’s working today.’
Again there was a long pause. ‘I’m sorry. I’d like to help. But Jasper doesn’t like the police and he’d be angry if he knew I was talking to you.’
Karen leaned back in her chair. ‘I know that Jasper and your father have had difficulties with the police in the past, but this isn’t just about them, Cathy. It’s about the two little girls that went missing. It’s really important I talk to him.’
Cathy said nothing.
Karen tried another tack. ‘Do you have Jasper’s mobile number? Does he have his phone with him today?’
‘I couldn’t give you that. Jasper would be furious.’
Karen wanted to shake some sense into the woman. Did she really allow her father and brother to dictate her every move?
‘Okay, Cathy. Either you tell me where Jasper is today, or I’ll have to come to the farmhouse and sit there until he comes home.’
‘I want to help, but he’s going to be so angry.’
‘You don’t have much choice, Cathy. Either you tell me where he is and Jasper is angry with you. Or you don’t tell me where he is, I turn up at the farmhouse, and when Jasper gets home, he’ll be angry with you anyway.’
Cathy let out a shaky little noise and Karen felt a pang of guilt. But she pushed those feelings away. She was bullying Cathy, but she had to. If getting Jasper to talk meant they were closer to getting those two girls back and finding out what happened to them, then it was worth upsetting Cathy Palmer.
‘Okay, he’s cutting back hedges again, this time at the edge of Washingborough. He could be in any of the four fields along Tranmere Lane.’
‘Thanks, Cathy. You’ve been really helpful. And I promise I won’t tell Jasper you told me he was there. I’ll make it look like we happened to find him ourselves, okay?’
‘Oh, thank you!’ Cathy sounded so pathetically grateful that Karen suffered a second pang of guilt as she hung up.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cathy had been telling the truth. They found Jasper in the third field they passed along Tranmere Lane. The wide, open sky was crystal blue, and without cloud cover the temperature had plummeted.
DI Morgan was driving one of the fleet cars, and when Karen pointed out the green tractor with a large red cutting attachment, DI Morgan slowed the car to a crawl. The tractor was easy enough to spot from the road but it was hard to make out who was operating the machine.
DI Morgan stopped the car in a layby beside the grass verge. Karen was determined to stand back and let him lead the questioning. She planned to watch Jasper Palmer like a hawk for any telltale signs he was lying or hiding something.
Due to Rick’s comments earlier, she was starting to feel paranoid. Perhaps she was letting her desire to bring down Nigel Palmer get in the way of good, steady police work.
They waved at the tractor, but the driver was either oblivious to them standing on the other side of the hedgerow or simply determined to ignore them. The rumble of the engine meant he couldn’t hear them calling out to him either.
DI Morgan pointed out a gap in the recently shorn hedge a short distance away and they made their way towards it. The tufts of grass were slick and the ground was bumpy as they navigated the verge but they finally made it through the hedgerow, Karen wincing as she scratched her hand on a sharp thorn.
The hedge was a native mixed hedgerow, a jumble of spiky hawthorn and blackthorn, entwined with hazel and some other plants Karen didn’t recognise.
Once past the hedge, they trudged along a strip of uncultivated land that skirted the recently ploughed earth in the field. The long grass clung to Karen’s ankles and soaked the bottom of her trousers. DI Morgan strode ahead of her towards the tractor, waving his arms to attract the occupant’s attention.
Karen felt a smile tug on her lips when she saw it was indeed Jasper Palmer operating the controls. He didn’t look very happy to see them.
Her contentment was short-lived. Ahead of her, DI Morgan let out a startled cry. At first, she thought he’d been hurt. Traps were outlawed, but two years ago she’d seen the aftermath when some poor chap’s leg had been mangled in an illegal animal trap.
But then she saw what had made DI Morgan jump with fright and inappropriate laughter bubbled up in her throat.
She heard the familiar squawking alarm call and then saw a jumble of reddish-brown feathers flapping in front of them. They’d startled a pheasant. There were plenty around here. Karen even had one that roosted in her garden. She lived beside an open field, and the male pheasant – she’d named him Peter – liked to roost in the lime tree in her garden. He always made his way home at dusk. Last year, Karen had been worried about Peter. She hadn’t seen him for a while, and when she’d mown the grass before the start of winter, she’d been horrified to find some long tail feathers. Fearing the worst, Karen had assumed he’d been eaten by a fox or maybe an overly large farm cat. Christine had found Karen’s reaction very funny and kindly informed her that male pheasants shed their tail feathers and it was nothing to worry about. Sure enough, the next evening at dusk, Peter had squawked and ambled his way happily across the garden to his usual roosting spot.
Karen had grown quite fond of him, but from the way DI Morgan was now glaring at the pheasant scurrying away towards the open field, she guessed he didn’t feel the same about this particular bird.
‘Did it startle you, sir?’ Karen asked, unable to resist a grin.
‘I think the fact I nearly jumped a foot in the air was a pretty good indication that it did startle me, thank you, DS Hart.’ To his credit, he returned her grin.
‘Looks like Cathy was right,’ Karen said, nodding at the cab of the tractor where Jasper sat scowling behind the windscreen.
DI Morgan gestured for him to cut the engine and climb down.
Slowly, and with a sulky expression, Jasper did as he asked. He opened the small door to the cab and jumped down, landing with a thud. ‘What is it? I’m at work.’
He wore a worn-out checked shirt tucked into dark jeans. His boots were covered in mud. He glowered at them, and his bright eyes blazed. He had a reputation as a ladies’ man around these parts though Karen could not see the attraction, but that was probably because she saw so many similarities with his father.
‘We’d like a word,’ DI Morgan said.
‘I didn’t think you’d come out here to offer me a cup of tea,’ Jasper said sarcastically.
He smirked at Karen and then leaned back against one of the enormous tractor wheels, casually watching them and waiting. The irritated look on his face had disappeared and had been replaced by his usual cocky expression.
Karen couldn’t help thinking he believed he was getting one over on them.
‘Where were you yesterday lunchtime?’ DI Morgan asked.
Jasper ran a hand through his red hair, ruffling it, and frowned. ‘I thought the girls went missing in the afternoon?’
‘Answer the question, please.’
‘I was working on the field. Like I told you, I’ve been cutting back the hedgerows. This is the time of year we like to do it. It takes a long time. We used to hire help in, but now . . .’ Jasper shrugged. ‘I like to do it myself anyway. The others always cut it too short or leave it too long. It takes an experienced man to handle a machine like this.’ He rubbed the side of the tractor, fingering the green paintwork. And then he looked at Karen with what could only be described as a leer.
She didn’t react. She’d dealt with worse in her time. If he thought that was going to intimidate her, he’d better think again.
DI Morgan pressed on. ‘Do you have anyone who can corroborate that?’
‘I don’t know, but surely any person passing by the fields would have seen me. There was a lot of traffic on Station Road when I was working there.’ He sighed. ‘I had Brian helping me in the afternoon.’
‘Did you go into Washingborough y
esterday, Jasper?’ Karen asked. She couldn’t help herself. She’d intended to leave all the questions to DI Morgan, but she couldn’t stand by, watching his arrogant stare as though he was enjoying watching them rush about like headless chickens. She was desperate for answers. Desperate to find out what had happened to those little girls.
‘Washingborough? No, but I do go to the Ferry Boat sometimes,’ he said, referring to the pub. ‘They do a lovely fish and chips. Maybe you could meet me there one night.’ He gave Karen what she assumed he thought was a charming smile.
Karen rolled her eyes. ‘But you didn’t go to the Ferry Boat yesterday.’
‘No, officer. I didn’t go to Washingborough at all yesterday,’ he said mockingly.
Karen clenched her fists tightly and shoved them into her jacket pockets. ‘That’s funny. We’ve got a witness who says they saw you in Washingborough yesterday.’
DI Morgan shot her a warning look, but it was too late.
Jasper laughed and that was the last straw for Karen. ‘I don’t think we’re getting very far here, Jasper. Maybe you should come to the station and answer our questions there.’
Jasper stopped laughing abruptly. ‘What is all this? Are you trying to fit me up?’ He looked at DI Morgan. ‘You should keep an eye on this one. She’s a bit loopy.’ He moved his hand in tight circles by his temple. ‘She’s got a bee in her bonnet about that other girl that went missing. She thought it was my dad.’ He barked out a laugh. ‘I mean, he’s on his last legs. What chance would he have against a feisty girl like Amy?’
‘Feisty?’ Karen’s voice was as cold as ice. ‘Why do you describe her as feisty? Did she turn you down? Maybe she didn’t appreciate your advances. You don’t like women saying no to you, do you, Jasper?’
Jasper grinned. ‘You’ve lost the plot. I liked Amy. We got on. I was as surprised as anyone when she disappeared. I’ve told you all that before, but you don’t listen.’
‘It would be better for you if you told us the truth, Jasper. Were you in Washingborough yesterday?’ DI Morgan asked.