Unfinished Business

by Heather Atkinson

  “Your visitors are here dear,” Mrs Greenacre called to the man sitting in a chair by the window, eyes closed, enjoying the sun on his face. Greenacre was in his mid seventies but he looked tall and strong, military almost. He’d probably never slouched in his life. A grey moustache completed the sergeant major look but this man had never been in the army. He’d served in the police force for over thirty years before being put out to pasture.

  “Hello Sir. I’m Cass Carlisle, we spoke on the phone. This is my associate, Brodie MacBride.”

  Greenacre got to his feet with surprising sprightliness and held out a large hand for them both to shake.

  “Thanks for agreeing to this meeting,” said Brodie.

  “Ms Carlisle told me this was about the Flynns so my curiosity was piqued.” He motioned to two steadfast armchairs. “Please take a seat.”

  “Would you like a drink?” offered Mrs Greenacre.

  After putting in their orders for tea Mrs Greenacre disappeared into the kitchen and the three of them settled back to begin their talk.

  “So, what’s happened to rake all this up again?” opened Andrew.

  “Mark Creegan AKA Theo Flynn married and moved on with his life,” said Brodie. “His wife has just found out about his past. We’re working on her behalf.” His policy was never to tell anyone the full story. They always gave their interviewees half-truths whenever they could. They didn’t like anyone to know the full story except themselves and their client.

  “She wants all the details?”

  “She and Mark have two young daughters. She needs to know he’s not a danger to herself or them.”

  “Understandable. Alright, I’ll tell you what you want to know, for them.”

  “Thank you Sir,” said Brodie respectfully. He might have left the force but he still had enormous admiration for those who worked in it. It was a tough job. “We’ve read the reports but we’d really like to know your thoughts and feelings on the case.”

  “You mean the stuff that wasn’t in the case file?”

  “Exactly. Cass here has already spoken to DCI Barrow and he told her you were certain Mark - I mean Theo - wasn’t responsible for killing Bryan Flynn.”

  “He was right, not that he wanted to listen to me,” grumbled Greenacre. “None of them did.”

  “What made you think Theo was innocent?” Brodie settled on referring to Mark as Theo because that was the name Greenacre knew him by and he didn’t want to confuse the issue.

  “The boy was soft, he kept bursting into tears. I’ve seen a lot of crocodile tears in my time but these were genuine.”

  “Maybe he was in shock?” suggested Cass.

  “He was but it wasn’t just that. In interview when we showed him the photos of his dad’s body he threw up all over the floor. You know any frenzied killers who throw up at the sight of their own handiwork?”

  Brodie had to own that he didn’t.

  “That was just one of many things, which were all small. There was nothing definitive that told me he was innocent, just insignificant little moments that added up to one thing - Theo Flynn wasn’t capable of murder. I could tell you every one of those things but you’d just think they were stupid, like my colleagues did,” he said bitterly.

  “I’ve met Theo Flynn,” said Brodie. “One of my first thoughts was that he couldn’t have killed anyone, he’s not the type. As I told my colleague here the word that springs to mind with regards to Theo Flynn is buffoon.”

  Greenacre smiled but there was no humour in it. “I know exactly what you mean. I don’t know what sort of man he’s become but he was a clumsy, inept boy. Not stupid, no, quite the opposite actually, but no common sense. Bryan Flynn was a monster of a man, huge and solid. Theo was tall but he was gangly. Don’t get me wrong Mr Brodie…”

  Brodie sighed inwardly but didn’t interrupt.

  “…I’ve seen the most unlikely killers in my time. I’ve met a tiny little woman who slit her two hundred and fifty pound husband’s throat, a ten year old who battered a sixteen year old to death and a little old lady with a fetish for poisoning wealthy old men. Everyone, no matter who they are, is capable of murder. But if Theo Flynn had decided to kill his dad he wouldn’t have done it like that. He would have waited until he was asleep and smothered him. Something nice and quiet when the victim was at their most vulnerable, he would never have taken him on at full strength in the middle of an argument, he was far too afraid of him.”

  “Perhaps he reached breaking point?” said Cass. “If he was being attacked and panicked…”

  “You sound just like Barrow,” snorted Greenacre. He leaned forward in his seat, eyes hardening. “I spent a lot of time with Theo Flynn, much more than my colleagues. He is not a killer. Another odd thing, the pathologist said the stab wounds on Bryan’s body had been done by both a left hand and a right.”

  “Surely that proves Mark wasn’t the killer?” said Brodie. “He’s right-handed and Seth’s left-handed.”

  “The seventh blow, which was the killer blow, was committed by someone right-handed but Mark said he’s ambidextrous.”

  “So his right hand gets tired stabbing Daddy so he switches to the left. What a load of crap.”

  “I didn’t believe it either but when Maggie, Lauren and even the staff at Mark’s college confirmed that he was ambidextrous there was nothing we could do.”

  “Does that mean Seth’s ambidextrous too?” said Cass.

  “Yes. Apparently they used to enjoy switching places with each other when they were younger so they got used to using the opposite hand.”

  “And you think they swapped places after Bryan’s murder to try and confuse everyone?”

  “Most certainly.”

  Brodie paused to think before asking, “did you ever work on The Camden Carver case?”

  “Yes I did and he’s started up again in Manchester, only now he’s simply called ‘The Carver’. Don’t tell me that’s where the Flynns ended up?”

  “It is.”

  “They’re lucky they changed their surnames, it’s probably why the media hasn’t picked up on that fact yet.” Greenacre steepled his fingertips together and leaned back in his seat, looking grim. “No wonder his wife’s worried but I’d definitely say no, Theo wasn’t responsible for that.”

  “Was he ever considered a suspect in Camden?”

  “No. He was only seventeen. We were looking for an older suspect.”

  “How much older?”

  “Aged late twenties to late forties. There was no way The Carver was a teenager, he was far too organised. The crimes exhibited an older man’s restraint and experience. Plus our killer definitely had access to their own transport and Theo couldn’t drive. Bryan Flynn himself was a suspect.”

  “A serious suspect?” said Brodie.

  “Oh yes. Unfortunately he only came to our attention after he was dead. We investigated anyone who had experience wood carving and whittling. Bryan wasn’t a professional, more of an enthusiastic amateur but he had real talent. Only his family knew about his hobby and they kept it quiet, which was why he slipped under our radar. Some of his stuff was exquisite, he worked out of the shed at the back of the house in Camden. He could carve anything out of a piece of wood.”

  “Did you manage to match his work to the killer’s?”

  “We tried but there was nothing in the shed that matched the carvings in the victims’ skin but if he was the killer he’s hardly going to keep evidence like that hanging around. We tried to trace his movements every time a girl was taken but Maggie stonewalled every attempt, she said he was at home with her. Of course that made me more suspicious but without anything concrete linking Bryan to the murders our hands were tied.”

  “Was anyone arrested for the murders?”

  “No. I think of that case as my biggest failure. Theo Flynn getting sent down for killing his father was my second.”

  “Who do you think really killed him?”

  “It could have been any of the
other three - Maggie, Lauren or Seth.”

  “Lauren?” said Brodie, surprised.

  “I wouldn’t put it past her. I know she comes across as sweet and timid but she has a dark side too, like all the Flynns.”

  “Cake anyone?” said a chirpy voice, dispelling the darkness that had settled in the room. Mrs Greenacre bustled in carrying a tray laden down with teacups, a teapot, a large homemade Victoria sponge and side plates.

  “Let me get that for you Mrs Greenacre,” said Brodie, getting to his feet and taking the tray from her.

  “What a gentleman,” she smiled. “You’re a lucky lady,” she said with a knowing wink at Cass.

  “We just work together,” she explained.

  “Oh, what a shame. You look so lovely together.”

  Brodie could feel his cheeks heating and silently willed the old woman to stop talking. “This cake looks tasty,” he commented in an attempt to distract her.

  “Ellie’s sponge cake is the best in the Lakes,” said Greenacre with a touch of pride.

  After making sure all three of them were furnished with tea and cake, Ellie once more disappeared into the kitchen, leaving them to talk.

  “If Maggie was protecting her husband by providing him with an alibi,” began Brodie, “do you think she was aware of his activities, if he was actually the killer or was she just afraid of him, even though he was dead?”

  “I really couldn’t say whether she was protecting her husband or her family’s name but she was definitely afraid of him, they all were,” said Greenacre. “Her family was already in the spotlight after Bryan was murdered, she might not have wanted any more hassle, but it didn’t go unnoticed that the killings stopped after he died. Case closed I think, although that doesn’t get any justice for the victims’ families,” he sighed, hanging his head, looking weighed down with sadness.

  “We’re sorry to rake this all up again for you,” said Cass.

  Greenacre’s head snapped up, eyes burning. “Don’t be. If one of his sons is continuing his father’s work then we might still get some answers yet.”

  “You don’t think Mark…I mean Theo…is capable of murder, so that just leaves Seth?” said Brodie.

  “I said he wasn’t capable when he was a boy. I don’t know who he is now. What sort of man is Seth? My guess is it’s not good.”

  “You’re right, it’s not.”

  “He was always top of my list for Bryan Flynn’s murder. He was violent even as a boy. I know there’s a big difference between having fights with your peers and stabbing your dad to death but I felt Seth was capable of so much more bad stuff, despite his youth. There was something about him, a….”

  “Darkness?” said Brodie.

  “Yes, that’s exactly it,” said Greenacre. “Sometimes it was so potent it felt like it could touch you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I know it sounds odd. I was a police officer for thirty years and I met plenty of bad people but he was the only one who made me feel like that.”

  Brodie thought about how Seth’s darkness had felt to expand and overtake the room at Sarah’s house and didn’t think it sounded so strange.

  “But if he is The Carver then why suddenly start operating now? The original murders were twenty years ago,” said Cass.

  “Some trauma usually sets serial killers off - a death in the family, divorce,” said Greenacre. “Look into his recent past and see if there’s anything that could have sparked him off.”

  “It’s a good place to start,” commented Brodie.

  “I wish I could give you something more solid but all I have is theory and supposition. But one thing I know for sure is that Theo Flynn is not a killer, which means another member of his family is. I’m not saying for certain it is Seth, I wouldn’t rule out Maggie or Lauren, not by a long way.”

  “What was your take on the relationships between the family members?”

  “Dysfunctional at best. Theo and Seth weren’t close at all for twins. Lauren was the one they all rallied round, who they sheltered from not just us but the media frenzy too. I don’t know whether that was out of love or because they wanted to stop her from losing it and revealing what really happened, she was in the house at the time of Bryan’s murder. But so were Seth and Maggie.”

  “Did they show any concern for Mark?”

  “Oh yes, especially Lauren. They seemed very fond of each other. Seth was going through his own shit and causing more mayhem. The courts bought it too and let him off lightly because his dad had just been murdered by his brother. But he wasn’t suffering any angst, he was just using the situation to do what the hell he liked. Typical. Maggie held them all together, made sure they all stuck to their stories, which they did. I couldn’t get any of them to change their statements. Lauren did tell me something curious though. Apparently before the police were called Maggie went out to the shed in the back garden, the one where Bryan Flynn spent a lot of his time and that no one else was allowed near. She was in there for about ten minutes before she came out with a big black bin bag, which she gave to Seth. He left the house and returned five minutes later minus the bin bag and only then would Maggie allow Theo to call the police. When I quizzed Maggie and Seth about it they denied it. Maggie blamed Lauren’s mental health issues, said she’d got confused, but she knew what she’d seen. We couldn’t find the bag either so that was the end of that but I’m sure it existed.”

  “What do you think it contained?” said Cass.

  “Proof that Bryan Flynn was The Camden Carver. He took trophies from his victims. That was something we managed to keep quiet.”

  “Jewellery?” said Brodie.

  Greenacre shook his head. “Skin.” He smiled at their stunned expressions. “It’s nice to know this old warhorse still has the capacity to surprise.”

  “Skin?” repeated Brodie.

  Greenacre nodded. “Cut squares off their backs, about two inches square. God only knows what he was doing with it. We kept that back from the press so we could use it to trap the killer, so I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone. It might come in useful yet.”

  “You can trust us,” replied Brodie.

  Greenacre’s intelligent eyes scrutinised him carefully. “Yes, I rather think I can.”

  “And if Maggie knew to clear out Bryan’s shed…” began Brodie.

  “Then she knew he was the Carver,” finished Cass.

  “Which means his children might have known too and now they’re carrying on Daddy’s work.”

  Brodie and Cass stared at each other, their eyes reflecting each other’s triumph.

  “Maggie definitely knew more than she was telling,” said Greenacre. “I didn’t think it was coincidence either that all the Camden Carver’s victims resembled her - dark eyed with long dark hair.”

  “Have the police in Manchester asked you to consult on the case?” Brodie asked Greenacre.

  “No. They called to ask me about it but that’s all. I wish they had, I’d love to see that family finally fall.”

  The rest of their conversation with Greenacre didn’t yield much but by the time they finally got out of the cottage it was early evening and they both felt drained.

  “It’s a bit late to drive back to Manchester now,” yawned Cass. “Let’s find a hotel.”

  Brodie didn’t get excited at the prospect of sharing a hotel with Cass. They’d done it many times before and nothing had ever come of it. “Yeah, I’m a bit knackered,” he yawned back.

  As they strolled through the garden Brodie looked back over his shoulder and saw Greenacre watching them from the window, his lips set into a determined line. He hoped he managed to solve this case and give the poor bugger some peace. He knew what it was like to be haunted by failure.

  CHAPTER 8

  Cass and Brodie managed to find two single rooms at the village inn that the Greenacres had recommended to them, which turned out to be a beautiful and very well preserved seventeenth century building and far more pleasant than the hotel Cass had booked
him into in Manchester.

  After checking into their separate rooms Brodie met up with Cass in the hotel restaurant for dinner. The staff were actually pleasant and the food excellent.

  “So who did you leave in charge, Christian or Ross?” said Brodie between mouthfuls of roast beef.

  “I left them in joint control. It was the only way to stop them bickering.”

  “And there’s nothing they can mess up?”

  “No. All they’ve got to do is a couple of warnings off and clear a nest of vipers. That’s it.”

  Nest of vipers was the code they used for a junkie squat. More often than not those sorts of people set up home in deserted tenements and empty buildings, well away from the rest of humanity. However occasionally they took up residence close to respectable people who didn’t want desperate addicts anywhere near their nice homes or their kids. Brodie’s organisation specialised in clearing them out. He usually gave that sort of work to Christian and Ross anyway, who were both huge. When they charged in wearing balaclavas and wielding baseball bats it was usually enough to make everyone in the building run, those who were compos mentis enough to anyway.

  “What’s the game plan now you’ve spoken to Greenacre?” said Cass, delicately dabbing her lips with a napkin after polishing off a huge plate of homemade meat and potato pie. She loved her food and it was a marvel to him that she kept her figure so well. She picked up her glass and took a sip of orange juice. Cass wasn’t a big drinker. “Are we looking into Bryan Flynn’s death or letting sleeping dogs lie?”

  “Mark didn’t do it, I’m certain, but there’s nothing much I can do unless he admits it.”

  “If he didn’t do it then that means he’s not The Carver.”

  “He’s not The Carver, no way.”

  “Just because he seems harmless doesn’t mean he is.”