Falling into Crime

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Falling into Crime Page 46

by Penny Grubb


  ‘We knew then we had to dig it right out,’ Tracey added. ‘I threatened the dogs within an inch of their lives not to go into the marquee, but can you imagine, in all the fuss of it all, if they’d started digging and pulling bones out. It’s not what you want at a wedding.’

  For Annie, the penny dropped. ‘So that’s why they’re not loose in the yard. Did they used to run free?’

  They both nodded. ‘We shut them in the kitchen here that first night, and we don’t let them out unless one of us is with them. We don’t want them digging out anything else, not until we’ve the christening done with, anyway.’

  ‘He’s a smashing little lad,’ Tracey put in. ‘And waited to the day after the wedding to be born. Good as gold.’

  Annie sipped her tea and looked around the big kitchen. The space felt full with canine snores and snuffles. Dog hairs danced in the air. One lay across the surface of the liquid in her cup. The uncurtained window showed a smudge of dark sky, with a hint of scudding clouds. The yard below was in darkness.

  ‘How did you know I was there?’

  ‘Bel saw you from the window. She woke us.’ Tracey pointed to a small pool of tan fur in a basket. ‘She and Sweep sleep upstairs with us. They cause havoc down here. We weren’t sure. We couldn’t see anything at first, but then there was just a small flash of light from by the barn so we knew we had to go and check.’

  Annie nodded. She looked up at the high mantelpiece and recognized a couple of the photographs from the Facebook page.

  ‘When’s the christening?’ she asked.

  They told her. It wasn’t long and she couldn’t see that any particular good would come of disrupting it.

  ‘Officially, I should advise you to go straight to the police. You know that. But on the other hand, officially, I haven’t been here tonight, so I can’t give you any advice. However …’

  She watched the Morgans hang on her words and hoped this was a conversation Jen would never hear about.

  ‘Get the christening done with and then get that skeleton wrapped and in your car, and take it to the museum in Hull. Tell them when and where you found it. Don’t lie about it. You’ll be in trouble with the police, but I doubt it’ll be more than a severe telling off for not calling them out at once. Just stick like glue to the fact you knew it was hundreds of years old right from the start.’

  ‘Won’t we be in more trouble for taking it away from where we found it?’

  ‘You’ve already done that. If you call anyone out to a skeleton on your property, you’ll end up with police and forensic teams, and the whole caboodle cordoned off. They’ll probably take the marquee to pieces bit by bit.’

  ‘Oh, we don’t want that.’ Tracey looked worried and Annie saw concern for family favours already stretched too far.

  ‘No guarantees,’ Annie said, as she stood up. ‘But if a museum has confirmed it as that old, it leaves a way out for the authorities. They don’t want the paraphernalia and hassle of a potential murder hunt. They’ll give you a good dressing down, but they’ll be secretly relieved you’ve saved them the bother. Not that you’ve had any of that from me.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Tim smiled. ‘I’ll turn the yard lights on so you can see your way out.’

  As Annie headed towards her car, it was the Longs who were uppermost in her mind. This should settle the case, but somehow it didn’t. There was something she’d missed. Her mind couldn’t grasp hold and she wouldn’t try to force it. She was tired.

  And after all, it was Michael Walker who sat on her tightest deadline. The Longs could wait. She would get back to them in her own good time.

  Chapter 21

  Next morning, Annie strolled towards the office, casting her gaze across to the building opposite, wondering about the woman who’d clocked Barbara’s late-night visits. No sign of life there at the moment. Once inside, she went mechanically around the space, turning on the computers, checking the phone for messages. Brittany Booth was due in this afternoon. Annie might dangle the bait of the elusive witness in front of her if she was difficult, but wouldn’t give her Donna. That would just cause trouble.

  She tapped Susan Gow’s number into the phone and idly, whilst waiting for an answer, typed Jawbone Gang into Google. It gave her an old reference to the whaling industry.

  Susan Gow spoke with the same calm voice as before. ‘Yes, the Jawbone Gang,’ she said with a laugh, when Annie told her what she’d uncovered. ‘I’d forgotten all about that. Written on the inside and painted in gold.’

  ‘There’s no trace of gold, but the words are scratched into the timber. What did it mean?’

  ‘My grandfather was a member of a jawbone gang. He worked on the whalers going out of Hull. But why Mother wrote it on the box, I’ve no idea.’

  ‘You’d think she might have wanted you to have it, to keep it in the family.’

  ‘No, no. We were never sentimental that way. It was only an old box. To tell you the truth it almost felt wrong to open it after we found it. It had been mother’s locked box for all those years. I wasn’t allowed to look in it. One of the few times I saw inside, I was struck by that beautiful lettering. My hand was never as neat as my mother’s, though she tried to teach me time and again. I remember her snapping it shut and giving me such a look.’

  ‘What did she keep in there?’

  ‘Bills, I imagine. We went through some hard times. Later on, I don’t know. Maybe by then she just kept it locked through habit.’

  ‘You never saw what was inside?’

  ‘No, the few times I saw it open, I always tried to sneak a look at those beautiful golden letters. You didn’t see much gold in those days. I’d completely forgotten till you mentioned it, though thinking about it, it was handwritten pages, not printed bills. I suppose you’ll have Mrs Lambit sacked?’

  Annie’s enquiry, as far as Susan Gow was concerned, was to do with the care agency and Donna’s role. ‘Uh … it’s not for me to say. It wouldn’t be my decision, that sort of thing.’

  ‘No, of course. I wasn’t impressed by what I saw of her. There’ll be no tears from me if she loses her job.’

  Annie wondered if there were ever tears from Susan Gow for anyone.

  Feeling as though clutching at straws, Annie asked about the man who had pulled the box from under the stairs; and if there could have been papers hidden elsewhere.

  ‘No, I went through everything. Mother hadn’t many material needs in her last few years. The locked box was the only item in the house that didn’t have a use.’

  ‘Any idea when she hid it under the stairs? Her carer mentioned seeing it soon after her eightieth birthday, but not since.’

  ‘Then it wasn’t Mother who hid it away. She was beyond getting under the stairs at that stage. She must have asked someone to do it.’

  ‘One of her carers maybe?’

  ‘Maybe, but that sort of thing’s supposed to be logged.’

  Annie thought of the sheets of handwritten records. There must be hundreds of them for May Gow after all those years of four visits a day. She began to mull over ideas for getting into the care agency’s files.

  ‘Mrs Lambit said she saw your mother showing it to one of her friends. Any idea who that might have been?’

  ‘If that’s true, I can only think of Eliza Ellis. I found her as a surprise for Mother’s eightieth. She was one of mother’s oldest friends but they’d lost touch. Eliza was the only one of her old ambulance pals I was able to track down.’

  ‘Ambulance pals?’

  ‘They drove ambulances together in the war. A horrific time in Hull by all accounts. The city was flattened.’

  ‘I suppose you aren’t still in contact with Eliza Ellis. I’d like to speak to her.’

  ‘Yes, I have her in my address book. Give me a moment and I’ll get it now. She’s in a residential home.’

  After she put the phone down, Annie pulled the keyboard towards her and typed in the address Susan Gow had given her.

  She studied th
e pictures and read the slightly overblown prose with which the home was described. A couple of relatives of residents had added comments to an online guest book. It didn’t look too bad a place. Somewhere May might have been happier to spend her last days than in her own home with Donna Lambit circling.

  Annie rang and introduced herself as a friend of a friend of Eliza Ellis. The man who answered the phone was unsuspicious and, by showering him with questions about the area, the best way to find the home and the likelihood of a sudden change in the weather, she managed to end the conversation without giving her name, but with a firm commitment to call in tomorrow.

  She wondered who had hidden the box under the stairs and why? Had May handed it over full? And had it been empty by the time it had been stashed? Before she made serious plans to break into the care agency’s records, she would see what Eliza had to say.

  She picked up the phone and clicked out Jennifer’s number. It rang half-a-dozen times then went to answer-phone.

  ‘Hi, Jen. It’s me, Annie. Are you free later, or over the weekend? Give me a call.’

  And that was that until Jennifer got back to her. Maybe Nicole had already told her about Annie’s supposed treachery, but Jen was fair-minded. She would wait to hear Annie’s side.

  It reminded her she had another call to make. That blasted fancy-dress competition; the letter she’d shoved in a drawer back at the flat. Two or three times a year the invitations landed, and she just ignored them, but this one was different, inviting her to be more than a spectator and carrying a presupposition that she would jump at the chance to judge the competition, as though she was the one in receipt of the favour. She should get in touch and make things clear. Maybe it would be better to bite the bullet and go out there, see the woman face to face, leave her in no doubt that she had no interest in horsey events. She didn’t want to take polo lessons no matter how hefty the discounted special offer. She had no intention of joining a healthy sponsored outdoor trek for adult beginners no matter how worthy the cause. And most certainly she did not want to judge a mythical warriors fancy-dress competition.

  The click of the latch sounded from downstairs. Annie, who had been listening out for it, grabbed her jacket and bag and dived for the door on to the landing, knowing that Barbara’s lumbering gait would allow plenty of time for her to hide at the end of the top corridor.

  Curiously, she listened to Barbara’s progress. Sure enough, it was silent but for the creak of the stairs.

  The door to the office scraped open and Annie heard what sounded like a tut of irritation as Barbara disappeared inside.

  ‘Annie?’ She heard Barbara’s voice call.

  Annie tiptoed to the stairs and crept down. As she reached the bottom, Barbara’s voice reached her.

  ‘You know what that girl’s done again? Only waltzed off out leaving the office wide open.’

  Damn it.

  Annie found herself poised, undecided. In her rush to avoid Barbara, she hadn’t thought how the unlocked door would look. And Barbara had said ‘again’, because of course this wasn’t the first time she’d played this trick. As she turned to head back upstairs, to make clear she hadn’t abandoned the office at all, she heard a phone start to ring, and Barbara’s voice say, ‘Got to go. Someone on the other line.’

  It would be ridiculous to stand waiting for Barbara to finish her call, just to tell her no, she hadn’t left but was about to. Instead, she marched on to the street and slammed the door behind her. Let Barbara wonder about that.

  Chapter 22

  By the time she returned, Barbara had gone. The buzzer sounded ten minutes early and Brittany Booth stalked in, aloof and hostile.

  ‘Have you found my proof?’ she barked out, with a toss of her head that folded her hair over her shoulder in a heavy black wave.

  ‘I’m getting there.’

  ‘Getting there? What does that mean? I’ve paid you to find proof.’

  ‘You paid us to find the truth,’ Annie corrected, and saw a rush of fear sweep across Brittany’s features.

  ‘What have you found? What lies are you trying to make up?’

  ‘Sit down.’ Annie pushed a chair forward. ‘Take your coat off. Would you like a coffee?’

  ‘No, I don’t want anything. I just want to know what you’ve found.’

  Annie waited until Brittany had slumped into the chair.

  ‘As I said, I’m getting there, but I have no proof yet, either way. I need to ask you some questions.’

  ‘What do you mean, either way? Look, they could sentence Joshua any time.’

  Brittany’s obvious vulnerability made Annie feel a little more sympathy for her. She must have allowed in the possibility her idol was wrong, but she didn’t want to hear anyone say it.

  ‘I need to know more about Joshua’s own investigations about the complaint that was made six years ago. I know he won’t talk to me, but would he talk to you?’

  ‘I told you, he wants to protect me. He doesn’t want me involved.’

  ‘In that case, I need you to look through his papers, or better still bring them to me so I can look through them.’

  ‘I don’t have his papers. The police took everything.’

  ‘Maybe they missed something. You still have access to his place, right?’

  Brittany’s lips pursed. ‘No, I don’t. Why would I? We respected each other’s privacy.’

  ‘You didn’t live together then?’

  ‘It was a mutual decision. We had important work to do. It would have meant distractions. Joshua wanted what was best for me … spiritually.’

  Annie read the defensive tone. So Yates had spurned Brittany’s advances but kept her on a leash made of promises of being his soul mate and better things to come. Without any discernible reason, the idea came to her that Brittany didn’t even know where Joshua Yates had lived. Nonetheless, Annie knew she had access to some of Yates’s effects.

  ‘Last week, you gave me a copy of a letter that had been sent to the police six years ago. You told me you’d found it in Joshua’s things.’

  Brittany threw her an outraged glare, but for a moment was lost for words.

  You’re not as good as you’d like to think you are, thought Annie. I’ve caught you out, now just admit it and let’s make some progress. We’re supposed to be on the same side.

  ‘He happened to leave some bags round at my place, that’s all. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Annie, unable to suppress a sigh. All this defensiveness was wearing. ‘But this is important. This could be the key to finding the truth. I really need to see this stuff.’

  Annie felt pleased despite the frustration of dealing with the prickly woman in front of her. The other strand to her enquiries felt about to peter out with Eliza Ellis, but here was a whole new avenue opening up. For form’s sake and because it was important to clarify the details, she asked Brittany when Yates had left the bags. Sure enough, it fitted the timetable she’d already surmised. These were things Yates had decided to dump on Brittany just before he went to murder Michael Walker; things he hadn’t wanted the police to find. This was exactly the paperwork she wanted.

  She paused to wonder why the police hadn’t already taken it, but there was no reason they should have known. Yates had a number of hangers-on. His guilt was never going to be hard to prove even if he’d tried to deny the killing, which he hadn’t. Brittany hadn’t stood out from the crowd until she began her one-woman crusade to get him vindicated.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Brittany. ‘You’ve found nothing so far. You’re so slow. I trusted Mr Sleeman when he recommended you, but now I’m not so sure. You’re not the only people I could go to.’

  The words rang alarm bells. Annie had heard them before.

  ‘It’s only been a week. We’re good, but we’re not miracle workers.’

  ‘If you must know, I’ve been talking to a detective. A real one.’

  Annie felt the drop in her insides. She shouldn’t be s
urprised. If Kate had targeted Nicole, why not Brittany, too? ‘Who’s that?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think I want to tell you, but she had some pretty telling things to say. I came here to see what you’d found and to close the case. As it goes, you’ve found nothing, so don’t think I’m throwing good money after bad. Joshua told me to stop you and I’m going to him tomorrow to tell him I’ve done just that. He needn’t know that I’m going back to Mr Sleeman.’

  This speech was made with an air of gloating satisfaction, as though to pay Annie back for catching her out earlier. Annie knew she should fight for the case, for all sorts of reasons, but a part of her rejoiced that this might be the last time she had to deal with the petulance of the ever more unstable Brittany Booth.

  Would this be where all strands were snipped off? The dissatisfaction of leaving loose ends would rankle, but there seemed little point fighting to keep alive a case that was dying on its feet.

  Then a new angle struck her, the realization hitting hard in a rush of dismay. Jennifer!

  In her mind’s eye, she saw Vince Sleeman taking in Brittany’s defection. She thought of how the woman’s fanatic adherence to her cause would come out as a rant against Annie and by association, Jennifer. Now that Kate had blabbed, one session with either Nicole or Brittany would give him enough to ferret out the core of it. And then he’d know that Jennifer strait-laced Flanagan, the incorruptible copper, had been digging where she shouldn’t, prying into files that weren’t her business and passing information on to Annie. Vince would know just how valuable a nugget he’d found and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

  She could be pretty sure that between them, Charlotte and Jennifer would stop Nicole going to Vince. Now she had to do a mental about-turn and keep hold of Brittany, who was already getting to her feet and reaching for her jacket.

  ‘Go where you like,’ she said carelessly as she, too, started to rise. ‘A pity, though. Another couple of days and I’d have had your witness.’

  ‘What!’ Brittany spun to face her.

  ‘The woman Joshua called to come forward. I think I’ve found her.’

 

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