THEIR LOST DAUGHTERS a gripping crime thriller with a huge twist

by Joy Ellis

  ‘Er, yes, whatever you’re having is fine.’

  ‘You’re quiet tonight, Gary. Wishing you were back at Harlan Marsh?’ Max smiled at him.

  Gary leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms in front of him. ‘No bloody fear! But I am missing something, lad, and it’s driving me nuts.’ He looked around the office. ‘Why would you dig up a body and move it somewhere else?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want her found,’ said Max immediately.

  ‘But that girl Fleur died of malnutrition.’

  Rosie replaced the handset. ‘So he starved her to death. That’s murder too.’

  Gary drew in a deep breath. ‘Mmm, I suppose so.’

  ‘Or . . .’ said Charlie, scrolling up and down on his computer, ‘He had to dig her up.’

  Gary blinked. ‘For what reason?’

  Charlie looked thoughtful. ‘I was thinking of my mate’s dog, actually. He’d buried the dog’s ashes in the garden, and then his mum and dad decided to move. He was gutted about leaving the dog behind, so he dug the casket up and took it with him.’

  Rosie chewed on a thumbnail. ‘That’s quite possible. He could have dug her up because something was going to happen to the place where she was buried.’

  Gary stood up and paced around the office, stopping at the evidence boards. ‘Yes. That is a very good point indeed.’

  The phone shrilled out, and Rosie picked it up. ‘It’s the lab.’ She put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Rory Wilkinson has an urgent message for Jacko.’

  ‘Then I’d better take it, hadn’t I?’ said Jackman, as he and Marie walked into the room.

  ‘Sorry, sir.’ A red-faced Rosie handed him the phone.

  ‘DI Jackman here.’

  They all watched him speak, and when he hung up, five sets of eyes were staring at him expectantly.

  ‘Rory has isolated two identical, and viable, prints from the Children’s Ward. There is no match on our database, but from their position, they almost certainly belong to our killer.’

  ‘Where were they?’ asked Marie.

  ‘One on the underside of one of the hospital beds, and the other on a clothes rail.’ Jackman pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘And as Marie and I have just sent him some dabs from Toby Tanner’s house, we might have answers very soon.’ He looked at Marie. ‘I’d get you to tell everyone about our adventures down on the farm, but from the look of your face, I guess it really hurts to talk.’

  Marie raised her eyebrows and dabbed at her lip. ‘You are not bloody kidding, sir!’

  While Gary half listened to Jackman, something still niggled away in the back of his mind. It had almost come to him, and then the DI and the sarge had arrived, and his train of thought had evaporated.

  ‘So does this mean we have to let Benedict Broome go?’ asked Max. ‘We took his prints when we brought him in.’

  ‘Not yet. Just because his prints aren’t in the Children’s Ward doesn’t mean he’s not involved, and we still have to wait for forensics to tell us what happened in that caravan.’ Jackman shuddered. ‘That’s one report I’m not looking forward to reading.’

  * * *

  The pizza arrived and they ate at their desks. The initial excitement of the news about the prints had worn off. They had yet to find a suspect to tie them to. And Marie was beginning to feel the effects of having been bulldozed to the ground by the mammoth Micah Lee.

  It was almost too painful to eat, but she needed food. As Marie tried to force down a small piece of pizza, she pondered what Jan Wallace had told her about Fleur’s multiple injuries. They were almost certainly the result of serious abuse, but where did you start to look when the girl had been dead for two decades?

  She managed some gooey pizza topping, washed down with coffee, and gave up on the crispy base. She couldn’t get Micah’s words out of her head. “You have destroyed everything.” And he had also said, “Let’s see how your family likes being torn apart.” What family? Was he referring to the dead girls?

  ‘You really should go home.’

  She had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed Jackman watching her. ‘It’s easing, sir, and there is no way I’m walking out of here before you.’

  ‘Remember what I said about being stubborn?’

  ‘Vaguely.’

  There was a shout from the CID room. Marie looked through the open door and saw Gary jump from his chair. Marie pushed the picked-at pizza aside and she and Jackman went out to see what was happening.

  Gary let out a shaky breath. ‘Sorry, sir, and Sarge, but I’ve come to a terrible, a really awful conclusion.’ He swallowed. As the team watched him open-mouthed, he said, ‘It’s about Fleur, and Charlie’s mate’s dog — and a new onion processing plant.’

  Jackman blinked several times. ‘Are you sure you’re alright, Gary? That didn’t make a whole lot of sense.’

  Gary flopped back into his chair. ‘We were talking about reasons why you’d dig up a body, hence Charlie’s mate’s dog. Then Rosie said what if something was happening to the place where the body was originally buried, and I’ve been racking my brains to think what has had to be pulled down to make way for something new — and that’s where the onion processing plant comes in. It’s a long shot, but the old house that stood on the site of the new plant had a small family graveyard.’

  ‘They planned to build the plant on the Hurn Point road, didn’t they?’ said a perplexed Rosie.

  ‘Yes. The ground has been razed but the plans have been put on hold, right?’

  Rosie nodded. ‘That’s right. The residents of the area lodged an objection because of the smell. It’s been pending for ages apparently.’

  Gary scratched his head. ‘Well, it’s only just come back to me what used to be on that land.’

  Rosie frowned. ‘It wasn’t a house, was it? It was a riding stable, and it went bankrupt. How does that fit in?’

  ‘I’ve been trying to remember what was there before. There was a big old house on the adjoining plot of land. It’s long gone, but it was called Alderfield.’

  Marie stiffened and looked across to Jackman. The name was horribly familiar.

  Gary continued, his voice hollow. ‘Alderfield was the home of Simeon and Charlotte Mulberry. Simeon killed his wife, then shot himself in front of his children.’

  Silence filled the big room. Marie’s brain danced with confusing thoughts and suppositions.

  Suddenly Jackman found his voice. ‘Were you on that investigation, Gary?’

  ‘Not exactly, boss. I was at Harlan Marsh when it occurred, but it was such a sensitive case that most of us lower ranks were kept in the dark about the full details.’

  ‘We are going to have to uncover every damned thing we can about that case, especially where that young girl fits in.’ Jackman looked at Gary. ‘Do you know anyone who’d help us? Anyone who was involved in the original enquiry?’

  ‘Maybe, although whether he’ll talk is another matter.’ Gary bit his lip. ‘It was a bad business, sir. Harlan Marsh dealt with it, well, as far as they were allowed to. Then one evening a special unit arrived, and everything was spirited away. They took evidence boxes, reports, statements, everything, including the DI that was heading up the enquiry. He was moved elsewhere overnight, and a month later, it was like it had never happened.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Jackman.

  ‘We never asked, boss. It was made very clear at the time that it was better for us to let it lie.’ He shrugged. ‘We knew they weren’t messing around when the DI, the only man to ask questions, found he’d been posted a very long way away.’

  ‘Do you know where he is now?’

  ‘He retired years ago, but he came back to this area last autumn. He lives at Fosdyke, got a little place on the river towpath.’

  ‘What made it so sensitive?’ asked Max.

  ‘The children, Max. They saw Simeon blast their mother across the room, then do the same to himself. It was done to protect the children.’

 
; Rosie frowned. ‘Surely there had to be more to it than that? Evidence and investigating officers don’t usually get spirited away unless there’s either an in-house investigation, or someone’s really blundered.’

  ‘Maybe we’d better ask your old colleague, Gary. What’s his name?’

  ‘Duncan Hewitt, sir.’ Gary ran a hand through his hair. ‘But don’t hang by your eyelashes. That case was bad news for DI Hewitt, and last I heard he was still bitter as aloes about it.’

  Marie began collecting the leftover pizza boxes and throwing them in the bin. ‘If we are to find out if Fleur was connected to the Mulberry family and Alderfield, we are going to have to get him to talk to us, aren’t we?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Jackman said. ‘We’ve done enough today. We will go and see him in the morning. After we’ve sorted out interviews with Asher Leyton, Benedict Broome and Micah Lee, if he’s not still away with the fairies.’

  ‘Can I make a suggestion, sir?’ Gary asked Jackman. ‘It might be a good idea not to mention anything about Alderfield, the Mulberry deaths, or ex-DI Hewitt to Superintendent Crooke just yet.’

  Jackman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to. Explaining the simple stuff is hard enough, but telling her that we are sniffing around a closed and highly controversial case? Despite what people may tell you, I really don’t have a death wish.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A green-gold sunrise lit the fields with a warm glow. Jackman had decided to send Gary and Marie to talk to the retired policeman — Gary, because he had a kind face that the man would recognise, and Marie was a damned good, honest detective. Hopefully Hewitt would recognise that.

  They left her car in a small parking area just off the A17, and continued on foot down the towpath. The River Welland was wide and fast-flowing at this point. Years ago there had been rickety old wooden moorings along the bank, but they had been taken down since Marie had last walked this way.

  ‘I used to love walking the dog here when my dad was alive,’ she said softly.

  ‘Better way than usual to start the day,’ said Gary, swatting at a small fly. ‘I assume the interviews threw up nothing?’

  ‘Asher Leyton is staying silent. Micah Lee has been arrested for assaulting me. He’s been seen by the doctor, and although he’s calmer now, we decided to give him a little longer before interviewing him.’ Marie touched her bruised face. ‘And Benedict Broome, well, I’m not sure about Benedict. He was very upset when he heard that Micah had attacked me, but he seemed even more disturbed by the fact that his housekeeper was being questioned.’

  ‘Do you think Broome is connected to the drinking clubs, Sarge?’

  Marie kicked at a stone. ‘I can’t see it.’

  Gary watched a cormorant fly slowly downriver, throwing a dark shadow onto the greenish water. ‘My mate at Harlan Marsh said that Cade has been “busy with other matters.” It seems that his enthusiasm to help you out has waned.’ He gave a little snort. ‘He was pretty pissed off to hear that Jim Salmon had tried to interview Micah Lee, but interestingly enough, he let it go when he learned that Salmon had got nothing from the man.’

  ‘Surprise, surprise.’ Marie looked along the path to where a small cottage sat between two big rectangular fields. ‘Is that it?’

  Gary nodded. ‘Now we just need to get him to talk.’

  Duncan Hewitt opened the door, and Marie knew instantly that she was going to need every ounce of persuasiveness that she could muster.

  Hewitt was tall, a little overweight, and the red across his nose suggested that he liked his drink. He had retained a full head of hair, and he wore “outdoor” clothes — dark green cargo trousers, a check shirt, and a worn khaki gilet chequered with bulging pockets. He made it quite clear that they weren’t welcome.

  At first Marie wasn’t certain how to tackle him. If she was too nice he would think her patronising, and she was also certain that if she mirrored his belligerent attitude, he’d slam the door in their faces.

  She finally decided on a detective to detective approach, throwing him enough tempting little tasters to make his natural copper’s curiosity kick in.

  And somehow it worked. Ten minutes later, she and Gary were sitting in cane armchairs and sipping strong tea in a neat little hexagonal conservatory.

  ‘I swore I’d never talk about it again,’ said Hewitt. ‘But,’ he gave a gruff sigh, ‘The damned memories never leave me be, so what the hell?’

  ‘Our own case is harrowing,’ said Marie with feeling. ‘A body count of thirteen young women.’

  Duncan Hewitt whistled through his front teeth. ‘That is bad. So, what can I tell you?’

  ‘What really happened in Alderfield, sir?’ Gary spoke softly.

  Hewitt gave a snort. ‘I’d love to know!’ He placed his mug on the cane table and sat back. ‘I’ll tell you what we saw, and what I suspect, and what you do with the information is up to you — except,’ and he stared at Marie, ‘it never came from me. Is that understood?’

  Marie and Gary nodded.

  ‘Alderfield was a good-sized country house with quite a few acres of land. When we got the call, we weren’t sure what we’d find, because it was one of the children who dialled 999.’ Hewitt swallowed. ‘We found Simeon Mulberry in the entrance hall, a double-barrelled shotgun beside him. His wife, Charlotte, was lying at the bottom of the stairs. They had both been shot in the head. The gun had discharged both barrels, and two shell cases were found close by.’

  ‘And the children?’ asked Marie, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

  ‘They were all there. Silent as the grave. White faces, and terror in their eyes. Some had blood on them.’ Hewitt looked into the distance, as if he were back in that old house and seeing it all afresh. ‘It freaked us out, Sergeant Evans. Totally freaked us out.’

  ‘How many were there?’

  ‘Six children — five boys and a girl. The oldest was in their late teens, and the youngest little more than a toddler.’

  ‘So does anyone know what caused Simeon to snap and murder his wife?’

  ‘Maybe I should tell you about that man before we go on.’ Hewitt's eyes darkened. ‘To the outside world, Simeon Mulberry was an astute businessman with the Midas touch, and he was clever enough to make friends with a lot of important people. But in truth, he was a perverted sadist who hid his vile activities behind an elaborate façade.’ Hewitt stared at them. ‘Simeon was the most evil man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.’

  ‘You actually met him?’ Gary sounded shocked.

  ‘Oh yes, at some of the formal functions we have to attend as part of the job. He was handsome as a movie star and could charm the birds from the trees, but he had a heart as dark and cold as a frozen cesspit. I’m just sorry that he never came to court, or went to prison, because in prison he would have been justly punished for his actions. The other inmates would have seen to that.’

  Marie suddenly had a vision of blood-spattered children. ‘What kind of sadist?’

  Hewitt’s face was full of disgust. ‘The worst kind. Beneath the house was a basement room with bars at the small high windows, and locks on the door that would have withstood a mad bull. We found a row of purpose built cages, Sergeant.’

  Marie felt sick. This was like listening to a synopsis of some ghastly horror film. But Hewitt had more to say.

  ‘The children themselves never spoke about the abuse that they suffered, but their scarred bodies said it all. At the hands of their own father they had suffered every kind of mistreatment in the book. It was hard to assess the depth of their trauma. On the surface they were remarkably well-adjusted and very intelligent, with the exception of one boy, who had sustained a head injury in early childhood, probably at his father’s hand.’

  ‘What happened to them?’ asked Gary. ‘We were never told anything.’

  ‘They were taken away and protected for a time, then given new identities and new lives. I’m told that they had psychiatric monito
ring and support for years, but eventually they went on to lead their own lives.’

  Marie stared out of the window, across the acres of farmland. This was not the end of it.

  Duncan Hewitt gave her a knowing smile. ‘You’re waiting for the next instalment?’

  Marie nodded. ‘You should never have been railroaded out of the county, just for doing your job, so it makes me think it has something to do with all those “important” people that you mentioned? The ones that Simeon cultivated.’

  ‘Well done, well done! Oh yes, there were politicians, councillors, barristers, financiers, and policemen. Simeon had sucked them all in. And exposing him as a monster would have been horribly embarrassing, and very dangerous, for some people in important positions.’ His voice was bitter. ‘I have to say, the cover-up was a masterpiece of skilful manoeuvring. I believed then, and I still do, that I was close to uncovering a connection between Simeon Mulberry and one of our own top brass.’ He looked at Marie grimly. ‘There was something rotten within our ranks, and my keen nose was getting a little too close to the source of the stink.’ Hewitt pulled a face. ‘So I was got rid of. But that was not the whole reason. I was the only one to voice an opinion to my commanding officer that Simeon’s “suicide” was nothing of the sort. He was “helped,” as sure as we are sitting here.’

  ‘Helped?’ Marie’s eyes widened.

  Hewitt looked tired. ‘You know what a copper’s instincts are like, Sergeant Evans, you get a feel for something. And there was something not right when we walked into Alderfield that day.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Not that I could ever prove it, but everything was wrong. The bodies, the children, the gun. It was all there, just as you’d expect, but . . .’ He gave a shrug. ‘I wasn’t the only one to think this, I was just the only one stupid enough to say it.’

  ‘Say what?’ asked Gary slowly.

  ‘Some of us believed that the children, having witnessed their mother’s death, might have been instrumental in killing their father.’

  ‘The children?’ Marie felt slightly dizzy.

  ‘Who else? And could you blame them? That monster had six children, and he abused every single one of them.’ Duncan suddenly stood up. ‘I’ve got something, if you’d like it? I call it my memory box.’