Trodds Lane

by Nick Roteman

  Having eaten she took her laptop into the living room, made herself comfortable on one of the couches, and switched on. After a period of surfing, she checked her emails. Only the one, but it had her sitting bolt upright as she opened it, it was just a picture- no words.

  A picture of Tom grinning straight at her with his left arm around and half- supporting Rachel, who was standing awkwardly and appeared strangely sleepy; her eyes unfocused.

  She stared at the picture trying to figure it out, before it occurred to her she had sometimes seen Freddy with that vacant look, normally when he had had too many drugs. The penny dropped, OMG, Tom had drugged her! She carefully studied the picture for any clues as to where it might be. It was taken at night so the background was just a dark outline, but enough for her to recognise it was taken on the pier.

  Auburn jumped up and put her laptop very carefully down on the couch. What now, she was not certain what to do. Should she go alone to the pier or call someone, but who could she call?

  It would have to be Oli, she had wanted him to ring her first but this was too important to play games so she rang his mobile. It went straight to voice mail, so she reluctantly left a message.

  “You have to ring me!” She then added a ‘please,’ as her sister had always told her to do if she wanted something done. So ‘please’ she said then repeated it as if that would precipitate an instant response.

  She waited and waited, becoming more agitated as the minutes rolled by. This was useless, who else could help her?

  She rang Moira, who answered and was delighted to talk to her.

  “Hello my dear this is a pleasant surprise indeed, how are you?”

  “That’s not important, you have to come here, now er please! It’s so important, pleaseee!”

  Moira could sense from her voice that she was agitated, and it was probably something of importance, or at least important to Auburn, which was not always the same thing.

  “What is it dear?” Moira answered trying to get an inkling of what was on her mind. “Do you need something, or has something happened?” she asked, keeping her voice level and calm.

  “Yes!” Auburn confirmed. “You need to be here, please now, there is no one else I can ask for help!”

  “You’re not making any sense dear, talk slower, what would you like me to do?”

  “It’s Rachel, my friend, you need to be here, oh please!”

  Moira said a brief ok and hung up.

  Auburn was standing outside her building fidgeting from one foot to the other when she showed up. She grabbed hold of Moira’s arm tightly, and pulled her along until she fell into step along side of her.

  “Come on hurry, we have to get to the pier, it’s Rachel I fear the worst.” She uttered in way of an explanation as she pulled her along the road.

  As they stepped onto the wooden pier, Auburn tugged at Moira’s sleeve pulling her over to the left side to walk down.

  “Why along this side, are you sure?” she whispered asked almost out of breath.

  “Yes, yes I think so, it was something in the picture. We have to go almost down to the end I think.” Auburn replied, producing a torch from out of her coat pocket, which she shone ahead to light the way.

  Even with the torch on they had to slow their pace for fear of tripping over; it was so dark out along the pier, and so deserted and eerie.

  The wind had freshened as they hurried along the pier, and drops of rain began falling splashing onto the deck and making it and them most uncomfortable. They continued alone the pier ignoring the rain with Auburn shining her torch into every locked doorway they passed. Suddenly she stopped dead forcing Moira to stop. Taking a step backwards, she re-shone her torch at a door they had just walked past. She hadn’t been mistaken, right on the door in the middle was a sheet of folded paper stuck to it.

  Moira took the piece of paper down and unfolded it carefully while Auburn shone her torch beam over her. It was a photo of Rachel on her own lying on a wooden floor. She had her hands tied and a strip of tape across her mouth.

  Moira glanced over at Auburn before allowing her gaze to fall back on the door. “I’m guessing she’s inside?” she said putting her hand on the door handle and turning it. The door opened to her touch and they went in. It was a tiny storeroom, quite empty except for the body of Rachel lying propped up against the far wall.

  “Oh my goodness!” Moira squealed as she rushed over to Rachel and knelt by her body, the rope and the tape had been removed but she lay there motionless. She desperately felt for a pulse.

  She shook her head slowly. “Have you got your phone on you?”

  Auburn who had remained transfixed by the door nodded twice.

  “Go outside and call the police, can you do that for me?”

  Auburn went outside and called the police, but was having problems explaining the situation when Moira joined her. She handed the phone over to her. As Moira was trying to describe where they were and who was dead, bright flashlights, their beams crisscrossing the pier on both sides appeared as people were obviously running towards them.

  They were escorted down to the police station in the centre of town, and were led into one of the interview rooms.

  DI Paul Simpson closely followed by his DS, entered the interview room and sat down opposite Moira and Auburn.

  DS Ash was the first to speak. “Has anyone offered either of you a cup of tea?” she asked kindly.

  “Coffee please and a biscuit,” Auburn’s swiftly replied.

  While Moira said almost inaudibly. “Tea would be very nice thank you.”

  Ash nodded to the police woman standing by the door and she left the room.

  “I don’t like it in here,” Auburn stated taking a swift glance upwards at Ash. “Why do I have to be in here?” she added.

  “Because we don’t know yet what you have done, either or both of you two?” Simpson growled back at her. It had been his day off, the first in two weeks, and this was not what he had planned for the latter part of it.

  “Shall I begin Gov probably better?” Ash cut in giving him one of her frosty stares, which he totally ignored.

  “Just from the beginning, tell us why you were on the pier searching for umm...” he had to look over at his DS now.

  “Rachel Miller,” she confirmed, keeping her eyes fixed on those the other side of the table.

  “Yes.” He agreed pausing for a response.

  Moira decided to begin as Auburn looking quite agitated was beginning to fidget from side to side in her chair, and obviously not about to answer any questions.

  “Auburn rang me, I can’t remember when, an hour or two back in a terrible state...”

  “Why?” Simpson cut in.

  “If you will kindly let me finish I will tell you Inspector!” Moira said coolly.

  Ash stifled a giggle, but not before Simpson’s left hand had come down hard on her right thigh as a warning.

  “Please do go on,” she said to Moira.

  “As I said Auburn rang me and I could tell it was important so I went around to her house straight away. She was worried for Rachel who lives in the flat above with Peter someone...”

  It was Ash’s turn to interrupt. “Of course, yes, I knew I had met Rachel...” She went silent forcing Simpson to respond.

  “You met Rachel Miller the victim, when, what are you saying?”

  “Sorry yes I have met her. She came to this station a few weeks ago to report a missing person...”

  “Yes, yes,” Moira confirmed. “That was this Peter from upstairs.”

  Simpson ignored this useless bit of information and concentrated on Auburn instead. “So why Auburn did you know to go down to the pier, can you explain this?” he asked.

  Auburn was looking about her but not at any of them in particular
, and ignored his question; she was bored, and all this questioning would achieve nothing: Rachel was dead, it was sad but that was that.

  “Why Auburn, why the pier?” Ash reiterated also wanting to know the answer.

  Moira decided she had better answer for her, or they could be here all night. “She had a message of sorts telling her I gather. Isn’t that correct dear?” she said glancing across at her for some kind of confirmation.

  Auburn stopped fidgeting for a second and emitted a big sigh before finally answering. “Yes, Tom sent, well emailed me a picture of him and Rachel, she didn’t look right, I think it was drugs- yes she was drugged I think.”

  Simpson wrinkled his nose. “A picture, what you mean. Just tell us simply.”

  “An email with a picture attachment of him with her, I recognised it was taken on the pier, I saw the lights from the hotel on the hill, so I knew it was the pier.”

  “So you received this photo, picture, from Tom, Tom who?” Ash asked.

  “Tom Phipps he’s an evil man, violent and rude, he has also done something to our Peter but I don’t know what, but I will work it out.”

  “So Peter, Peter Chandler, is still missing and you think he is involved in some way?” Ash confirmed before asking. “Have you got this picture?”

  Auburn nodded excitedly. “Yes of course back at my place, but you must interview this man Tom Phipps,” she warned.” He killed Rachel and I don’t know about Peter, but I fear for him too. You have to get him, you have to, do you understand?” she asked, actually looking up briefly at them. “Do you?”

  “Where does this man, Tom Phipps, live do you know?”

  Moira nodded, “Yes I think he lives here in Bournemouth, doesn’t he?” she replied glancing across at Auburn for confirmation.

  Auburn nodded her head. “And he lives in Weybridge with Peter’s mum. I bet he has run back there already, while we sit here and discuss what has already happened, instead of stopping what might be. We’re wasting time, if you don’t act now I will.” She coolly replied, as she put her hands on the table and interlocked her long fingers, to signify that was it as far as she was concerned, she had had her say.

  Simpson noisily pushed back his chair and stood up. “I don’t think that is a good idea, leave it to the professionals. Thank you both for now.”

  He glanced at Ash. “Go with Auburn find this picture, ring me yeah?”

  He turned his attention back to Moira. “Thank you Mrs Sullivan, I will get an officer to take you home. Please be available if we need to speak more at a later date.” He half smiled and briskly walked out the room.

  Ash had also stood up. “If you’d like to come with me Auburn, we can go in my car.”

  As they went into the reception area, Auburn and Moira were greeted by the appearance of a familiar face.

  “Are you both ok, it must have been awful. What’s happening now?” Oli Gregson asked turning to look at Ash, as her DI had already vanished, obviously dying for a cigarette.

  They entered the house and Ash followed Oli and Auburn up the stairs to her front door. Oli had insisted he accompany them to the house adding that she should not be alone tonight. Auburn went straight to her laptop, which she had left in the living room and switched it on.

  Just as before there was no picture, it had been erased. Although there was no physical evidence left Ash did believed Auburn, it was not in her nature to lie, she knew that. She kindly offered them a lift over to Oli’s house, and Auburn excused herself to grab a few clothes before returning with her badly packed bag. Oli carried her bag while she carefully cradled her laptop in both hands.

  Oli Gregson lived in a delightfully modern terraced cottage, on the other side of Bournemouth. He carried her bag upstairs and showed her the guest bedroom opposite his, with the bathroom in the middle separating the bedrooms.

  Her mouth turned down at the edges, “Oh,” was her first reaction.

  He put her bag on the bed but as he turned to leave, she blocked his way.

  “I hoped we could, you know, tonight. What do you think Oliver Gregson?”

  He deftly manoeuvred himself around her but hesitated in the doorway.

  “It’s been a long day. It must have been a ghastly experience for you to go through, terrible. I’m sure you’ll sleep well once your head hits the pillow, good night Auburn. I’m only across the way here if you need anything.”

  He moved across the corridor and swiftly shut his bedroom door.

  “But I do Oli, I do!” She whispered. “Can’t you just stay here with me?”

  “Good night.” He called through his closed door as he leaned back against it, wondering if he should lock it, but that was just silly, he was the man here after all, wasn’t he?

  Auburn was truly disappointed, tonight would have been the perfect time to show her he was the man and take her, but instead he had bloody run off. Here she was alone with him and willing for a night of pure sex, and he had gone to bed. All this subterfuge, men only wanted sex so she had read, and most women loved it too. So what was this all about, here she was willing but alone, she was so confused, people were just so complicated. What was so bad about asking for what you wanted, instead of playing stupid games?

  Perhaps men like Tom Phipps were the real men after all, they did what they wanted whenever it suited them, life revolved around them and she admired that concept. Rachel was dead and it was sad she wouldn’t see her again, she really liked her but that was how it went. You get to like and trust somebody and then they leave you; it was typical of her life. Oh well no time to dwell on the past, it was what she did tomorrow that mattered. She was sadly wide-awake now but she got into bed and laid there thinking.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Oli was the first to stir and gently opening his bedroom door walked out onto the landing. Glancing briefly at the room opposite he was reassured to see the door shut. He was hugely relieved in fact, as he made for the bathroom to take a long hot shower, but not before carefully locking the door behind him.

  It was not one of Auburn’s days at the library, so he let her asleep on, and forgoing breakfast so as not to have any awkward breakfast conversations, he slipped out. He prayed by this evening she would have forgotten her obsession with him and sex, and thought of something more interesting with which to amuse herself.

  Once in his office he was soon busy, lost in a mass of correspondence emanating from his overflowing in tray. He was interrupted by Moira knocking lightly on his door.

  He beckoned her in. “Come in Moira, how are you today?”

  Moira hovered near his desk, in spite of its colossal size, every corner was filled with piles of letters, papers and books.

  “Sorry to bother you Oliver you look so busy but I just wondered how Auburn was today. So awful yesterday, that poor girl, I hardy slept a wink you know.”

  “You shouldn’t have come in today we would have understood.”

  “That’s sweet of you but I’d rather be with others today, you know...”

  “Of course, sorry. Actually I left her fast asleep, but knowing something about her and the way she thinks I think she’ll be fine, better than us. By tomorrow sadly she’ll have probably almost forgotten about Rachel, that’s the way she deals with life.”

  “Oh goodness that’s sad isn’t it. Look do you think I could come back with you tonight and just see how she is, I won’t stay long?”

  This was the best news he had had today, a third party to protect him.

  “Oh yes,” he said a bit too keenly. “Umm, yes I think that would be nice for her. In fact, why not stay for a spot of supper, good that’s settled then.” He added before she could object.

  Moira smiled back at him, she felt for him, she knew it surely couldn’t be the easiest of things living with dear Auburn. “I’ll see you later.” She said sweetl
y and left him to his paperwork.

  Sara Ash sat patiently waiting in the driver’s seat for her boss. She knew where he was, just around the corner of the building, out of sight, having a last cigarette before their journey. She had laid on a flask of coffee, two bars of chocolate and a packet of glacier fruits, his favourite. He swore to her that they were one of his five a day, and naturally as he was the boss she believed him.

  The traffic was light on the journey down, and they had arrived and had parked outside Alice’s house by 10 am. As the gate was firmly locked, Ash was forced to press the buzzer.

  “Yes who is it?” came a female reply from within the intercom.

  “Police, DS Ash and DI Simpson to see Mrs Alice Chandler.”

  The gate slowly opened just enough to let them in on foot, so they crunched their way along the driveway up to the front door.

  She showed them into her drawing room and indicated for them to sit.

  “Can I get either of you tea or coffee?” She asked as amiably as possible.

  “No thank you,” Simpson answered for them both. “If you would just join us, please sit, we have a few questions.”

  Alice sat perched on the arm of an armchair, looking down at Simpson and Ash who were seated together on the settee. “Please begin, I’m intrigued.”

  Ash began, “I gather you know a Tom Phipps?”

  Alice’s eyes narrowed, “Yes, why?” She replied carefully.

  “Is he staying here with you at present?” Simpson questioned, taking over the lead.

  “Yes he’s upstairs, taking a shower I think. You have not answered my previous question Inspector!”

  “Detective Inspector, and no, I am asking the questions, it will be much quicker that way!” He warned her.

  Ash as usual interrupted to calm the situation. “We just need you to confirm his whereabouts from about 7pm yesterday until this morning.”