SHADOW OVER THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of suspense

by Joy Ellis

  ‘Wouldn’t anyone feel jumpy?’ Elizabeth had just done one of her famous silent entrances.

  ‘I think you have every right,’ said Joseph seriously and took out his notebook and a pen. ‘Now I wonder if you would help me out with the answers to some questions?’

  Elizabeth sat down. ‘Anything I can tell you, I will.’

  ‘Janna mentioned that something happened to your brother, a very long time ago. What was it?’

  ‘Sadly, he never told me much, but it concerned his health and some treatment that he received. He was very poorly, he nearly died, but when he recovered, he had changed.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘It’s hard to say, but he was different.’ A perplexed expression clouded her features. ‘Maybe these will help you to understand.’ She leant down and picked up a box that sat on the floor beside her chair. ‘You are welcome to take them as long as I get them back.’

  Joseph took the box and opened it. Inside were two large envelopes, one marked BEFORE, and the other, AFTER. Inside were press cuttings and dozens of photographs. Some coloured, others black-and-white. Most had names, dates and locations carefully written on the back.

  ‘I couldn’t remember all the names or places. But you’ll see when you look through, he has gone from being outgoing and gregarious, to becoming a loner.’

  ‘Oh, he was not that bad,’ chipped in Janna. ‘He just liked the marshes and his work. Everyone on Cloud Fen loved him, he was hardly some Fenland Howard Hughes, now was he?’

  ‘You never knew him before, sweetheart.’

  ‘A brush with death does alter people,’ said Joseph gravely.

  ‘I’m sure. But there were other things. We’d always been so close, but he just stopped confiding in me, Sergeant. He had been practically penniless, then he came home and he had money in his pocket, and he would never say where it came from.’

  Joseph thought quickly. It sounded like a bungled operation, or some medical blunder that had ended up in an out-of-court payout. ‘Where was he treated?’

  ‘The Gordon Peace Memorial Hospital. It closed when they built Greenborough General.’

  ‘I recall hearing the name somewhere.’ Joseph racked his brain for a connection, but nothing materialised. ‘I’ll try to look into that, but the length of time that had passed won’t make it easy, neither will the fact that all their notes will have been transferred, maybe even destroyed, years ago.’

  ‘Martin was adamant that there had been no blunders, if that’s what you’re thinking. He said they had done all they could, and he was indebted to them.’

  Maybe he was, but maybe he had accepted a hefty bung, and was happy with his lot. Joseph scribbled a few notes, then asked. ‘About his medication? Am I right in thinking that you were upset when we asked about them before?’

  Elizabeth Durham sighed. ‘I’m sorry. It was all rather too much to handle at the time.’ She sat back. ‘His ongoing medication had been something of a bête noire for me. They gave him some quite awful side effects, and no matter what I told him about medical advances, he refused to have them reviewed. He said that the clinic who looked after him knew exactly what they were doing and that I wasn’t to interfere.’

  ‘It was the only thing they ever argued about,’ added Janna.

  ‘Would that be the oncology clinic?’

  ‘I think so.’ Elizabeth frowned. ‘It must have been. He didn’t go anywhere else.’

  ‘Did you ever go with him?’

  She gave a cheerless shake of her head. ‘Never. He never allowed me to.’

  Now, there’s a surprise, thought Joseph. ‘So, when you two decided to turn sleuth, you were checking Knot Cottage for anything that could relate to his time in hospital?’

  They both nodded glumly. ‘Sorry about that, Sergeant. We weren’t trying to hamper your investigation, we just thought we might recognise something that would mean little or nothing to you.’

  ‘But there was nothing at all.’

  ‘Nothing. Either the intruder took them, or they were never there.’

  ‘One last question, Ms Durham. Did Martin ever mention, or do you know of Paul Cousins, or Amelia Reed?’

  ‘Amelia! We all knew her, Sergeant. St Francis was a positive philistine compared to Amelia! She was an animal angel, poor soul, until that terrible accident.’

  ‘Or was it suicide?’ added Janna quietly. ‘They never gave a verdict, remember?’ She stared at Joseph. ‘You surely don’t think there’s a connection, do you?’

  ‘No, I’m just trying to make comparisons, and as they were both local, I wondered if you or your brother may have known them.’

  ‘The name Cousins means nothing, but Amelia was an institution around here. We went to the same school, were quite friendly at one point, although that seems a very long time ago.’ Elizabeth Durham pointed to the box of photographs. ‘I think there’s a snap of all of us in there.’

  ‘Sergeant?’ Janna leaned forward. ‘When I saw you last you indicated a possibility of foul play? Do you still feel that way?’

  ‘I can’t comment officially,’ said Joseph cautiously. ‘But I am very disturbed by the whole scenario, it just doesn’t ring true, and there are too many unanswered questions regarding his medication.’

  ‘Like what?’ asked Janna.

  ‘He received tablets from his GP, a controlled regime that she was hoping to revise in the near future, but he also had other medication, in plain white boxes.’

  ‘They would be the ones that he received direct from the clinic,’ responded Elizabeth. ‘They were sent either by courier, or Martin would collect them from the post office in the next village.’

  A prickle of discomfort jabbed away in Joseph’s head. Clever, considering the clinic said they had never heard of Martin Durham. Still, now was not the time to share this knowledge. ‘And that was a long-term thing, was it?’

  ‘Oh yes, for years.’

  ‘I think I’d better go see this clinic,’ said Joseph, almost to himself.

  ‘Then perhaps you would you be kind enough to notify them of my brother’s death, and tell them to stop sending the medication?’

  ‘Of course. Happy to.’ Best that way, mused Joseph. We don’t want too many people getting involved in that place. Not until we’ve found out why they are denying all knowledge of Martin. ‘Now I should be getting back. But thank you for your assistance.’

  ‘Any time, Sergeant Easter. And if I find anything else that may be helpful to you, I’ll ring the station, shall I?’

  ‘Ring DI Galena direct. I’m out and about rather a lot at present. She’ll pass anything on, I can assure you.’

  * * *

  It took Joseph two hours to shop and find his way back to Nikki’s place. And when he finally arrived on the fen, ominous dark clouds were moving in from the east, and the marsh was beginning to lose its magic. In fact, to the town-boy even the air seemed charged and threatening.

  ‘Too much sky,’ he muttered as he pulled bulging bags of shopping from the boot.

  Once inside he felt better, especially when he entered the kitchen. He had thought it before, but there was such a good feel to that particular room that if he had lived there permanently, it would have been the hub of his universe.

  He unpacked the provisions and put them away, then pulled out a sealed package from the last of the bags and unwrapped a new pay-as-you-go mobile phone. He had felt naked without any form of contact while driving, and this would suffice until he got his own all-singing, all-dancing version back from the lab.

  He inserted the SIM card, set it up and activated it. As he waited for it to charge, he rang Bryony on the landline. After a while he hung up. She would probably be busy. Maybe he shouldn’t phone her at work anyway, a lot of companies didn’t appreciate their staff taking personal calls. Still, it was strange that her voicemail didn’t pick up.

  Not to worry, he told himself, they’d have a long talk later that night, right now it was time for his therapeutic hobb
y.

  Joseph chopped, sliced and diced for half an hour, then with a contented sigh, covered all his preparations with cling-film and stored them in the fridge. He then cleaned the table down, and went to get the Durham family picture archive and all his previous notes, photos and files on Reed and Cousins.

  He looked at the photos first, laying them out over the table, and quietly scanning them. It didn’t take long to understand what Elizabeth had meant. His early pictures showed a true live wire, a Jack the Lad, surrounded by friends, grinning, pulling faces and acting the fool. The later ones were far more subdued, and generally they featured only Martin, although one or two were taken with Elizabeth. A close brush with death? Joseph shivered, then replaced the recent ones in their sleeve, and concentrated on the early years. If he were to find something, he was sure it came from a long time ago.

  He then looked at the notes and files pertaining to Amelia, Paul and Martin, scribbling down anything that might be relevant, then cross-checking them. Dates of birth, addresses, schools, religion, hobbies, early jobs, family history. Nothing particularly linked them, except the fact that Martin’s sister had gone to school with Amelia, and that wasn’t enough.

  Joseph returned to the photographs, but after thirty minutes still had found nothing. With a grunt of disapproval, he got up to stretch his legs, but as he did so he clipped the folder on Amelia Reed with his elbow, and sent pictures and reports flying across the quarry tiles.

  Grabbing them back up, and trying to replace them in some semblance of order, he was struck by something he hadn’t noticed before. A forensic photograph of Amelia’s body. But it wasn’t the pale corpse that drew his eye, like iron-filings to a magnet. To one side of her, on a shelf close to the bath, was a tablet box. A plain white tablet box.

  Joseph raced through to the study and scanned the picture. As soon as he had it on the screen, he zoomed in on the packet, and let out a low whistle. The enhanced picture showed a box of the same dimensions as the ones found at Knot Cottage, and the only thing on it was a small rectangular label. It was exactly the same as Martin’s.

  He printed off the picture and picked up the phone. ‘Ma’am, I need a favour.’

  Nikki had sounded horribly distracted, but scribbled down his request. ‘I’ll get Yvonne or Niall to go down and see what they can find, but it’ll take a while, you know what the evidence store is like.’

  ‘At least the store is on the premises. At Fenchester our store was twenty miles away in a secure unit.’

  ‘And you realise there may be nothing there. It’s not as if Paul Cousin’s death was considered a murder.’

  ‘I know that, ma’am. But it’s on record that there was such a furore when it happened that a lot of questions were asked, and serious enquiries were made, to cover ourselves I guess, but his medication was definitely sent for analysis.’

  ‘Okay, well, I’ll ring you if they find anything.’ He heard her yawn, then she said, ‘Is everything alright there?’

  ‘Apart from looking like Armageddon outside.’ He glanced at the window and saw diagonal splashes of rain across the glass. ‘I think we’re in for a summer storm.’

  ‘They can be quite spectacular out on the marsh. I’d batten down the hatches if I were you.’

  ‘Will do. Any idea what time you’ll be back? I have a small banquet planned, and a nice Sancerre chilling in the fridge.’

  ‘I can’t say, Joseph, and I’m not sure I’m that hungry, so please don’t go to a lot of trouble.’

  He frowned down the phone. Generally, when you mentioned food or wine, Nikki showed considerable enthusiasm. ‘Hey! It’s no trouble,’ he said sincerely. ‘You are being good enough to put me up, the least I can do is look after you, and maybe even rekindle your culinary spirit?’

  ‘Re-kindle?’ she asked. ‘I don’t think that spark ever got ignited in the first place.’

  There was at least a slight hint of amusement. ‘I’ll try to get back by seven, okay?’

  ‘Then go careful on the roads. This is the first rain we’ve had for weeks, so it could be slippery.’

  ‘Thank you, Grandmother. I’ll be sure to heed your sage advice.’ She hung up abruptly and left him wondering what was going on at the nick, and whether anyone would find what he was looking for in the evidence store.

  He walked slowly back to the kitchen and began to gather up the pictures. Elizabeth had said that there was one of Amelia. From the press cuttings she had appeared tall and willowy, with a wiry strength, strong jutting jaw-line and piercing intelligent eyes. He wondered what she had looked like as a young woman. He skimmed through the names on the back, then saw Martin, Barry, Mel, Lewis and me. Home after second term at uni. Mel? Amelia? He looked closer.

  The picture showed five friends fooling around beside a rust-bucket of a Ford Anglia. Elizabeth was easy to spot, so as Amelia was the only other girl, he quickly identified her, and even back then her appearance was striking. Joseph stared at the photograph and memories of his own uni days washed over him. This was considerably earlier of course, Martin had been fifty when he died, almost fifteen years older than him, but the dynamic of the group looked very similar.

  He wondered where they were, but as he was not a local, he wasn’t sure. Then he made out a lot of other cars in the background, and saw part of a large sign, in particular the word, Gordon. Maybe the Gordon Peace Memorial Hospital? Joseph stared again. Funny place for kids to hang out.

  Suddenly his thoughts started to crank up again. He’d seen mention of this hospital somewhere in Paul Cousin’s notes. That was why it had rung a bell when Elizabeth had mentioned it earlier! That, and something else. But to his annoyance, the something else was still lying dormant in some closed compartment of his brain.

  Whatever, it actually linked all three. Not that he should get too hopeful. The hospital served a wide area, and Martin, Paul and Amelia were locals, it stood to reason they would have attended at some point in their lives.

  He turned the photo over again. There was no date on it, but that could easily be checked with Elizabeth. He sat back and smiled at the table full of old pictures. It all starts here. I’m certain of it. And if the evidence store came up trumps too, we’ve finally got a lead.

  At four p.m. the phone rang.

  ‘You are one jammy sod, Joseph Easter! Yvonne has located a box marked Cousins in the evidence store. And guess what’s in it?’

  ‘Medication?’

  ‘Too right. And one lot of tablets is in a very familiar plain white box.’

  ‘Yes!’ Joseph punched the air. ‘That’s it! Now we’ve got a place to start!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Nikki arrived home just as the storm hit. Winds gusted straight in from the North Sea and battered against the old house, and it was all she could do to keep upright as she fought her way from the car.

  She practically fell inside and slammed the door behind her, then was greeted by the most delicious smell of cooking.

  ‘I thought I said no trouble!’ she said, pulling off her soaking wet jacket.

  ‘Eat what you want, and the rest will freeze.’ Joseph grinned at her. ‘It’s the Easter version of a bloody good takeaway!’

  ‘You can cook Indian?’ said Nikki, half believing that if it didn’t come from the Taj takeaway, it didn’t exist.

  ‘Very relaxing, preparing Eastern food, all those lovely spices to grind and blend.’

  ‘You’re something else, you know that? Most people do a crossword, or play Sudoku to unwind; you grind spices and chop chillies.’ Nikki shook her head in amazement, and stepped out of her sodden shoes. ‘It’s certainly wild out there tonight, but it should subside when the tide turns.’

  ‘I’ve taken the liberty of running you a bath. I thought you’d probably get drenched.’ He turned back to the stove. ‘When you’re through, this should be just about ready.’

  Nikki went upstairs and took off her wet clothes then slipped on her dressing gown. She pulled some casual
slacks and a soft fleecy top from her wardrobe and went to the bathroom.

  As he had said, her bath was run, and a glass of wine stood close to the taps. Standing against it was a note. It just said, ‘Relax.’

  Nikki eased herself down into the silky hot water and found herself fighting back tears. She couldn’t recall anyone ever doing this for her before. Robert, her ex-husband could be called a lot of things, but thoughtful wasn’t one of them, and her few other fleeting affairs had been just that, fleeting. No time for niceties.

  For a moment she hated herself for ever even dreaming that this attentive and gentle man could be so psychologically damaged that he could systematically hunt down and kill people.

  She sipped the chilled wine, savoured it, and decided that Bryony was a lucky woman, a very lucky woman. She would miss Joseph when he left, and not just for his culinary skills. The old place felt like a home while he was there.

  She soaked for a while, going over what the day had produced, which wasn’t much, then she allowed herself to think about Martin Durham. She couldn’t believe that Joseph had made such headway. She just wished that she could do the same with the Greenborough assassin.

  Nikki stood up and wrapped herself in a thick fluffy towel before stepping out of the bath.

  ‘Five minutes!’ echoed up from downstairs.

  ‘Coming,’ she called back. She pulled on her clothes and carefully holding her wine, ran downstairs.

  * * *

  ‘For a woman with no appetite, there’s precious left for the freezer,’ commented Joseph. ‘I’d hate to see you when you are really hungry!’

  ‘Not a pretty sight, believe me. But that was too good to leave, thank you.’ She paused. ‘Tell me what else you’ve found out about our suspicious deaths.’

  ‘Very little, I’m afraid, apart from a tenuous connection to the Gordon Peace Memorial Hospital, but even the Internet doesn’t give much info on it.’

  ‘There was uproar when they built the Greenborough General and forced its closure. Protest marches and everything.’