Killer on the Fens
Page 13
Yvonne looked up to see the troubled face of PC Bob Tinker, and he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
‘Dunno really. Lots of the fen dwellers have seen them. Me gran says it’s the hobby lantern leading lost travellers to their watery graves.’
‘Yeah, right. And anything else?’ Bob sounded wary.
‘A friend of gran’s said she heard strange noises out there once. She was collecting samphire and she heard whispering and laughing. She might have been on the parsnip wine, but I dunno.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a weird place. Scary.’
Yvonne frowned. ‘Bob? What’s rattling you? We’ve all heard about the lights. Anyone who’s ever taken a call from old Miss Quinney knows about them.’
‘Reg and I heard noises, a sort of creepy laughter, and we saw moving lights when we were on duty up on the sea-bank the other night. Perhaps we should have reported it, but . . .’ His voice faded into silence.
‘But you were afraid of being called a big girl’s blouse?’ Yvonne knew all about male coppers’ egos.
‘Something like that.’ He looked at Yvonne. ‘But I think I’ll mention it now.’
Pike had given up on the porridge and was staring at Yvonne. ‘So what did they say the old woman’s name was?’
Yvonne thought hard. ‘Howitt? Howlett, no Hewitt. That’s it, Hetty Hewitt.’
Pike went even paler. He stared straight ahead. ‘You wouldn’t listen, would you? I friggin’ told you she was dead! Me gran’s maiden name is Hewitt, Hester Hewitt.’
* * *
An hour later, Nikki joined Yvonne and Bob at the hospital.
‘We’ve arranged for a DNA test from the late Mrs Hewitt, Mr Pike. If it is a match with samples we’ve taken from your grandmother’s home, then we’ll know for certain. Now, can you give me the names of your grandmother’s closest female friends? If she really is Mrs Pike, then we need to know what happened, who brought her here, and where her animals are.’
A very subdued Pike gave them three names, then said, ‘I’d try Miss Quinney first.’ He looked at Yvonne. ‘She’s the one you mentioned earlier, the old girl who complains about the lights. She went to school with gran, always calls her Hetty.’
He looked miserably at her. ‘Do you promise me that gran wasn’t hurt?’
Yvonne could tell that Pike’s concern was genuine. She said, ‘ITU said it was a massive coronary, and examination showed scarring on her heart, maybe from rheumatic fever as a child, but whatever, William, no one helped her on her way, I promise you. Okay?’
‘Thanks. Listen, if I help you, would it make things better for me, when I finally get out of here? I mean, I know you’ll be nicking me for dealing,’ the voice had lost its former aggression, ‘but I spent a lot of time hanging around with Anson when he was making deals, so I can tell you a lot about drug suppliers, and maybe other things too.’
‘We’ll talk when you are stronger. And naturally, if you assist us, there will be a certain amount that we can do to make things easier for you.’ Nikki turned to go, then said. ‘We’ll let you know about your grandmother.’
‘No need.’ Pike looked like a little lost kid. ‘I know what I saw.’
Outside, Bob told Nikki about the things he and his crew-mate had heard while on watch on the fen. ‘Now I’m beginning to wonder if there isn’t more to all this than just the superstitious crap.’
‘Me too,’ Nikki puffed out her cheeks, ‘but I have to get back to the station. Perhaps one of you would go check out Mrs Quinney? We need to tie this mess up before we can concentrate fully on the serial killer.’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Yvonne. ‘I’ll pick up Niall, and we’ll go directly.’
* * *
A vast expanse of fields stretched out on either side of the long fen drove. Apart from a tiny dot that Yvonne knew to be a tractor way up ahead, the police car was the only vehicle for miles.
‘I wouldn’t like to say how many times I’ve got lumbered with Miss Quinney.’ She grinned as she accelerated past the tractor. ‘Last time I saw her she told me that the local RSPB group were actually a foreign spy-ring. If it isn’t alien spacecraft over the marsh, it’s sightings of Johnny Foreigner landing on the beaches. I’m never too sure if she’s barking or just lonely.’
‘What if she isn’t so daft after all?’ murmured Niall thoughtfully. ‘Okay, the bit about “ET” and “the men in black” is rubbish, but too many people, including two police officers, have seen lights, so maybe there is something in it.’
‘I agree. But what?’
They drove the last few miles in silence.
Miss Quinney came to the door wearing a threadbare knitted cardigan, faded corduroys and a bobble hat, and declared that she was far too busy to talk to them.
Yvonne and Niall immediately saw why, as behind her in the sitting room, sprawled out on her settee, were two elderly lurchers, a moth-eaten spaniel, a ragged-looking German shepherd and an even more decrepit Jack Russell. One of several cats wound itself around their ankles, and the Strange Case of the Missing Animals was solved.
‘You picked the animals up after you took your friend, Hetty Hewitt, or Hester Pike as we know her, to the hospital, didn’t you, Miss Quinney?’
‘Well, I could hardly leave them to fend for themselves, could I?’
‘So, tell us what happened, and why did you give her name as Hewitt?’
‘I’ve known Hetty since I was three. She’ll always be Hetty Hewitt to me. And I don’t know what happened.’ Her arms were firmly crossed in front of her twig-like frame. ‘She came knocking on my door saying that she’d had a funny turn. She doesn’t have a car, so I gave her a cup of tea and then we went off to see the doctor in Caster Fen village. Half way there she started gasping, said she had terrible pains in her chest, so I drove her to Greenborough Hospital. What else could I have done?’
‘Miss Quinney, I’m not criticising you. We are just wondering why you left her there and never went back to see her?’
‘I had to get the animals, didn’t I? And one of her old cats led me a right song and dance, nearly wrecked the place trying to catch it. Look!’ She proffered a scrawny arm for Yvonne’s inspection. Three wounds, now scabbing over, ran from her elbow to her wrist. ‘Bleeding like a stuck pig I was! Still, I knew Hetty were right poorly so I couldn’t leave them, and I never go near the marsh after dark.’ The voice was fast becoming a wail. ‘And now I can’t leave them at all, can I?’
Yvonne smiled at her gently. ‘Miss Quinney, can we come in? We’d like to talk to you about your friend, and if you’re up to it, we really will listen to you this time.’ She paused. ‘It’s about the lights.’
* * *
As Niall drove off the fen, Yvonne leafed through a dog-eared old exercise book.
‘Well! For such a funny old bird, this is the most concise record of the comings and goings on the marsh that you could wish to see! She could show you a thing or two about taking notes, lad! Listen to this . . . 8.30 Friday 14. Lights commenced. Moved in an easterly direction, flicked for ten minutes, then faded. Recommenced at 9.45 p.m. and repeated above pattern.’ Yvonne stabbed her finger on the page. ‘Now that is interesting, because Reg and Bob saw lights at around that time, and it was a Friday! What do you make of that?’
‘Well, if we are talking about something really simple, I’d say a time switch.’ Niall turned and grinned at her. ‘They turn lights on and off at allotted times, don’t they?’
‘I think maybe we should take a look down on that marsh, don’t you?’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Joseph hurried along the corridor to the interview rooms, then halted abruptly as his phone rang. He glanced at it and saw a number he didn’t recognise. He flipped it open and heard a voice say, ‘I got your message, Sergeant Easter. Sorry I missed you. My name is Tug Owen.’
Joseph ducked into an empty room and closed the door. ‘Thank you for returning the call, Mr Owen.’ Joseph desperately tried to think of what to say to the man.
‘No sir. But it takes a lot to fool the inspector.’ Joseph felt relief at the way the conversation was going.
‘What do you already know, Sergeant?’
‘I know about Eve Anderson.’ Then he added with a slight shiver, ‘And about Flaxton Mere.’
‘I very much doubt that you do.’ There was a soft humourless laugh. ‘You know that Eve exists. You know she is somehow connected to Frank, and you’ve seen the name RAF Flaxton Mere on documents, but apart from that, Sergeant, you know nothing.’
Joseph swore to himself. The easy conversation had taken a distinct downward turn. ‘So what can you tell me, sir?’
There was the sound of a sigh. ‘Whatever I tell you will cause Nikki a great deal of pain. Do you really want to know?’
‘Sorry, but painful or not, I think you know the answer to that.’
‘Then first understand that Frank Reed loved Kathy. He would never have left her, but he and Eve . . .’ The man hesitated. ‘Years before, they went through a terrible ordeal together and they formed a special sort of bond.’
‘What kind of a bond?’
‘Do I have to spell it out?’ He sighed, then said, ‘It was complicated.’
Joseph remembered saying those very words to Tamsin, and wondered if all break-ups and breakdowns came under that heading when you scratched beneath the surface.
‘Frank was in pieces, Sergeant. He admitted to me that Eve meant the world to him, but she was a career RAF officer, and at the time she would not give up her career to settle down. Because of that, Frank moved on, and he met Kathy.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Eons. He was a young man, and despite still caring deeply for Eve, he fell desperately in love with Kathy.’ Tug made a little huffing sound. ‘The incident that happened, when he and Eve were thrown together under horrific conditions, left a permanent imprint on both of them, and neither could truly let the other go. Frank became living proof that you can love two people.’
‘What happened? What was the incident?’
‘I’m sorry, it was classified. Still is. But suffice to say there was an accident aboard an aircraft carrier and they were trapped for days.’
Joseph knew from experience the kind of bonds that formed with your military brothers, and he knew first-hand what trauma could do. He decided to move on.
‘But they met again, years later, at Flaxton Mere airfield.’
‘They tried to work together, but the past got in the way. It was a disaster.’
‘What was happening at Flaxton Mere, sir? Why the interest in that old place?’
‘All I can tell you is that Frank was asked to take a team out there and do a detailed report for the MOD, post decommissioning, prior to selling off the land. He was to work in conjunction with a government department, and when he made contact, he found that his opposite number was none other than Eve Anderson.’
Joseph did a few calculations in his head. ‘But surely his wife Kathy was dead by then?’
‘She was, but Frank was an honourable man and he possessed a conscience, plus he loved Nikki to distraction. It tore him to shreds.’
‘You said working together was a disaster.’
‘It was. As the years passed, Eve had discovered that she had made a terrible mistake. Without Frank, she was lost. She never married, even though she knew Frank had a new life with Kathy. But then when they met again at Flaxton Mere, and she realised that he was finally free, or so she believed, he wouldn’t be with her.’ Tug Owen made a little tutting sound. ‘Frank tried to explain, but in the end she walked off, and he never saw her again. Much later, he realised that Nikki would probably have understood, or at least accepted the situation, and Kathy would never have wanted him to live alone. He had thrown away his last chance of happiness.’
‘Did he go after her?’
There was a long silence, then Tug Owen said, ‘Yes, he did, but he never found her. That, I believe, is why he wanted Nikki to look for her. Something happened years ago, something Frank should have told Nikki about, but he never did. He said it was never the right time.’
‘But if he was as orderly as Nikki says, why didn’t he write it in a letter for her to read after he’d died?’
‘He told me it was something that had to be spoken about face to face. He wasn’t a hard man, and he didn’t want Nikki hurt by an impersonal note.’ Tug sighed. ‘I guess his mind gave out before he got around to it.’
‘And do you know what it is?’ Joseph asked.
‘Sorry, no, although I do have a suspicion.’
Joseph glanced at his watch. He had interviews piling up, and he’d promised to meet Tamsin, but there were still things he needed to know. ‘Mr Owen? Did Frank ever tell you about his first wife?’
‘He did, of course he did. After all, we were close friends. She died in a tragic accident, I believe, when Nikki was a baby.’ The line went quiet for a moment. ‘I’m sorry, but try as I might I can’t recall her name.’
‘No matter.’ He thanked the man for his help, and promised to ring him before the funeral to let him know how much of the information, if any, he’d passed on to Nikki.
As he left the room, he wished with all his heart that they had never agreed to look for Eve. No matter what they discovered now, it was going to wreck Nikki’s image of her father forever.
* * *
Yvonne and Niall drove back out to the marsh, but not to the crime scene. They were more interested in the sea-bank path that led across the edge of the marsh. The tide was still going out, which gave them plenty of time to get out to where Bob and Reg said they had seen the lights.
‘Have you been out here before, Vonnie?’
She nodded. ‘I came here when I was young, and I know it’s the tide that we have to be wary of, not the mud. We won’t get sucked under, just keep to the firmer ground, okay?’
Carefully they picked their way across the boggy, wet ground, slipping on the damp grassy hillocks and cursing at the shallow greasy-looking water pools that turned out to be deeper than they looked.
‘This godforsaken place goes on for miles! We’ll never find anything out here. We need half the station with us.’ Niall stared sadly at his mud-caked boots.
‘Well, I think we both know that that isn’t going to happen, my cherub, so quit moaning and keep looking.’
They stood together, staring around the lonely marsh, and wondering what they were doing there, with wet socks and mud-splattered uniforms.
Yvonne looked at her wristwatch. ‘We’ve got another fifteen minutes before we have to start back. There’s a breeze getting up, which usually means that the tide’s on the turn. Killer or no killer, we are not getting caught out here!’
‘Agreed.’ Niall kicked at the lush green leaves of some kind of marsh plant. ‘I’m not sure what I thought we’d find anyway.’
‘Something like this, maybe?’
Niall moved across to where his crew-mate half knelt in a patch of coarse marsh grass, then let out a long whistle.
Attached to a wooden stake that had been driven deep into the soft soil, was what looked at first glance to be a lamp of some kind. Closer examination showed it to be three triangular mirrors forming a prism. A reflector.
‘Here’s another one!’ Niall moved several metres away. ‘But this has foil strips hanging from it.’
They found six reflectors in total.
‘So, all we need now is to find out where the original light source comes from and when night falls, we’ll try it out for ourselves.’ Niall looked back towards the sea-bank and just beyond, to the old ruined building that had once been the watchtower for RAF Flaxton Mere. ‘Job done, my friend! Now let’s get off this bloody bog.’
* * *
Nikki took one look at Rory Wilkinson and hoped that she looked better tha
n he did. For all his jokes and black humour, the enormity of this discovery had even got to him. He had been in the crypt all night and was now heading into his second day without sleep. He seemed to have taken on the role of guardian of the Flaxton Mere necropolis.
‘Rory, I have to point out that a practically comatose forensic scientist is not a lot of use. Plus the lack of sleep is doing absolutely nothing for your dashing good looks.’
‘Yes, I’m desperately glad that this place doesn’t have mirrors. The shock of seeing my ravaged physiognomy could bring me out in hives.’
‘So you’ll take a break? We do have a rota in place.’
‘I’d love to, but there is only one of me, and whereas I would normally savour that unique position, until Dr Bass gets here from Cambridge, this is it.’ He pointed to a folding camp bed and a sleeping bag, pushed into small niche next to the burial chamber. ‘And no comments regarding the camp bit, if you don’t mind. Half of Greenborough got there before you.’
‘You’re staying down here? For heavens’ sake, man! You can’t sleep here!’
‘You are right! SOCOs are so noisy! Chatter like magpies, can’t get a wink.’
‘Rory, please! You are not staying here. I know you feel a responsibility to get these poor souls identified, but not at the expense of your health, and possibly your sanity.’ Nikki was emphatic. The thought of having to spend one minute longer than necessary in this chamber of horrors made her shudder.
‘Sorry, Inspector, but it’s only until my colleague arrives. He’s an expert in archaeological forensics, and I think he is going to find a few very unusual surprises at this little dig.’
‘Like what?’
The pathologist ran a slender hand through his floppy fringe, and pushed it unsuccessfully away from his forehead. ‘I’ve just opened one of the older boxes and I thought it strange that I wasn’t overpowered by the stench. I found a body that had been, well, almost mummified. The air quality down here is exceptional, but the fact that the body didn’t stink was because the internal organs had been removed. The body cavities had then been packed with herbs, spices and some sort of linen material soaked in oils, including cedarwood if I’m not mistaken. It’s bizarre, the trouble this man has gone to.’ He raised his hands in amazement.