The Secret of Wild Boar Woods (DS Dave Slater Mystery Novels Book 6)

by P. F. Ford

  Crump leaned forward as to share a confidence with Slater.

  ‘You can if you know the right people,’ he said, quietly.

  Slater looked round at Darling, her face now ashen. Even Crump’s solicitor looked startled by what they’d just heard.

  ‘I think I may need some time with my client,’ he said.

  ‘I think that’s probably a good idea,’ said Slater. ‘It’s probably best if we all take a break.’

  Slater and Darling had adjourned to the canteen for coffee and cakes.

  ‘Is he telling us she abducted these kids and brought them home?’ asked Darling. ‘And then took them away again if they didn’t like him?’

  ‘That’s what it sounded like to me,’ said Slater.

  ‘Do you believe him?’

  ‘I’m not sure what to believe with these two. I’m beginning to think they’re both as mad as a box of frogs.’

  ‘So where does that leave his confession?’

  ‘I should think, if his solicitor is worth his salt, he’ll be advising his client to withdraw his confession,’ said Slater. ‘I know I would.’

  Being in a cell overnight had done nothing for Melanie Crump’s mood. She was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on some point far off in the distance. As Slater took in her face, he thought ‘mad as a box of frogs’ probably wasn’t far off the mark. An unhappy solicitor sat next to her, looking as if she would rather be anywhere else but here.

  ‘We went to the New Forest to see your father this morning,’ said Slater.

  ‘My father’s in a nursing home, near Manchester,’ she said. ‘I’ve just been to see him.’

  Slater sighed.

  ‘What’s the point in keeping on with the lies? We’ve checked. Your father has never been a resident there, and you’ve not been there either.’

  ‘He was there, but he died.’

  ‘Who’s dead, Melanie?’ he said. ‘Are you talking about Digby Southall, your real father?’

  Her eyes widened briefly, and then focused sharply on his face.

  ‘How dare you even think you have the right to mention my father,’ she hissed. ‘He was a wonderful man.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s right’ said Slater. ‘He was so wonderful he murdered your own mother and your little sister. That was such a heroic thing to do.’

  ‘You know nothing about him.’

  ‘I know all about what he did, and how he dumped the bodies at Wild Boar Woods. Is that why you came down here to live? So you could be near the woods?’

  She gave him a look of total contempt.

  ‘Like I said, we had a nice chat with your adopted father,’ continued Slater. ‘He was telling us he hadn’t seen you for ten years. The last time you had a big argument with your mother. What was that about?’

  ‘That’s none of your business,’ she said. ‘It’s not relevant to anything.’

  ‘So it’s a coincidence that on the very same day, a child was abducted from Romsey and never seen again, is it?’

  She went to speak, but then seemed to change her mind.

  ‘Was she one of your adopted daughters?’ Slater asked.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Melanie Crump said, quietly.

  ‘We’ve been talking to Michael,’ said Slater. ‘He’s been telling us about the adopted daughters. I wondered what you could tell us about them.’

  ‘How could you possibly think I could do such a thing?’ she shrieked.

  ‘Do what thing?’

  ‘Abduct them and take them home for him to-’

  She suddenly stopped talking. Slater waited to see if she was going to say anymore, but instead of talking she seemed to draw herself inwards.

  ‘Take them home for him to what, Melanie?’ he asked.

  ‘Do terrible things to them,’ she said. ‘He killed them, all of them.’

  ‘All of them? How many were there?’

  She began to cry. Slater wasn’t a heartless man, and he was prepared to give her a minute or two to recover, but, even so, he thought he could recognise crocodile tears when he saw them. His mind was racing. This interview had been intended to explore her background to try to figure out what made her tick, but now it had taken an unexpected turn.

  ‘He made me do it,’ she sobbed. ‘I had no choice.’

  ‘There’s always a choice,’ said Slater. ‘You could have come to the police. You could have left him. What sort of hold did he have, over you, that left you with no choice?’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘So, explain it to me.’

  ‘They all used to gang up on me,’ she said. ‘There was him saying “why can’t we have children?” then there was that witch of a mother whining because she had no grandchildren. In the end I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just took one.’

  ‘You took one?’ echoed Darling, her voice appalled.

  ‘Yes. She was waiting by the school, so I just took her home with me. Here you are, I said to him. Here’s that daughter you always wanted.’

  ‘This was the girl who went missing from Romsey?’ asked Slater. ‘Ten years ago?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, quietly, her head down now.

  ‘You took her home, and Michael killed her?’

  ‘She wouldn’t stop crying. He wanted her to, but she just wouldn’t stop, so he stopped her.’

  ‘What did he do to stop her?’

  ‘I can’t talk about it,’ she said. ‘I never want to talk about it.’

  ‘You said there were other girls,’ said Slater. ‘Tell me about them.’

  ‘The first one was up in Manchester.’ She said it as if she was talking about a shopping trip where she’d bought a nice pair of shoes. ‘That was my real dad that day, talking about how he wished I had some grandchildren he could enjoy. My own father! He was my hero, and now he was turning against me, too.’

  ‘And you left there and took a little girl home for Michael?’ asked Slater, who was beginning to feel somewhat queasy.

  ‘That’s right,’ she said. She was smiling now, but it was a disturbed smile, the sort that made everyone else in the room begin to feel uneasy.

  ‘I think it might be good idea for us to stop now so I can arrange for my client see a doctor,’ said the solicitor uncertainly.

  Slater knew in his heart this was probably the right thing to do. Melanie Crump was clearly disturbed, and he didn’t want to be responsible for the consequences if she took a turn for the worse. Someone could get hurt, and it was common sense to call a halt to proceedings.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Darling, later. ‘She’s madder than he is.’

  ‘It’s a weird one, isn’t it,’ said Slater. ‘We thought she had driven him mad with her fake pregnancy, but now it looks like he drove her mad with his demands for a family.’

  ‘So which one’s the guilty one?’

  ‘Now that could be impossible to prove, unless they come up with some DNA, or something like that, from the burial sites. Otherwise it’s the word of a mad man against the word of a mad woman.’

  ‘Maybe they’re a team,’ suggested Darling, ‘but now they’ve been caught out, they’re trying to blame each other.’

  ‘Goodnews is back on Monday,’ said Slater. ‘We can hold them until then.’

  ‘What will she say?’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll say we should charge both of them, but that’s her decision to make. Anyway, the good news is that’s three murders solved in your first week, Darling. I reckon that’s quite a good start. Take tomorrow off. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday morning.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was 7am on Monday morning. Goodnews was back from Scotland, looking as if she had spent the weekend at some sort of exotic spa. Darling looked refreshed from having Sunday off. Norman looked his normal crumpled self. Slater was the one who looked worse for wear. He’d spent Sunday trying to fit all the pieces of their jigsaw together.

  ‘I presume if you were here all day yesterday you have it all fig
ured out,’ said Goodnews.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure about that,’ said Slater, ‘But I think I’ve got most of it.’

  ‘Okay, well let’s hear it.’

  ‘Back in 1965, a guy called Digby Southall celebrated his birthday, the 20th of October, by murdering his wife and youngest daughter. Their bodies were found in a shallow grave up at Wild Boar Woods. Southall was a serial criminal who had been in prison on more than one occasion. He was convicted and given a life sentence, which he served in Strangeways prison. The officer who solved the case was a DI Ormerod.

  ‘Southall had another daughter, a seven-year-old girl, who was taken into care, given a new name, moved well away from her old home, and put up for adoption. That girl took on her new parents’ surname and became Melanie Reece. What no one seemed to have considered is that she was seven years old. At seven she was well aware what had happened to her real family, and who she really was. My guess is she pretended not to know, but she had always been close to her real father. Thug he may have been, but he loved his older daughter.’

  ‘Why did he kill his wife and the younger child?’ asked Goodnews.

  ‘Southall would never say why, but that child was born eight months after he came out of prison. The suspicion seems to have been that his wife had been lonely while he was in prison and it wasn’t his daughter. My guess is he wasn’t prepared to be a father to someone else’s child.

  ‘Years later, when Melanie was old enough, she started to visit her real father in prison once a year on his birthday, until he died of lung cancer in 1995.

  ‘In the meantime, Melanie had met, and married, Michael Crump. He was much older than her, but fit the bill as a replacement for the father who was locked up and couldn’t be with her. Right from the start, she told him her father was in a nursing home near Manchester, but he was in such a bad way he would never be able to understand who Michael was, so he never got to meet him.

  ‘Everything went well for their marriage until Michael decided he wanted children. That was the last thing Melanie wanted, and it soon became a major bone of contention between them. She eventually told him she was pregnant just to shut him up.

  ‘The last time she saw her father, back in 1995, he told her he wished she had given him some grandchildren. To find her father was as bad as the husband she had now grown to despise was more than she could take. On the way home she abducted an eight-year-old girl at random, and took her home to Michael. As I understand it, she gave him the child on the basis of “here’s the daughter you wanted”. Of course, he didn’t know what to do with this child who obviously didn’t want to be there.

  ‘At this point we have two different versions of what happened. According to Melanie, Michael killed the girl, and according to Michael, Melanie took the girl away after a few hours and he never saw her again. He says Melanie told him the girl was “adopted” and could be returned if she didn’t settle.’

  ‘Which story do you believe?’ asked Goodnews.

  ‘The body had to get to Wild Boar Woods somehow,’ said Slater. ‘Melanie was up and down the country all the time. The south was her sales area back then, and forensics say that body has been in the ground for twenty years. As far as we can tell, Michael had never been down this end of the country until they moved here.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ said Goodnews, nodding her head. ‘Go on.’

  ‘In all this time, Melanie only made occasional visits to the Reeces, her adopted parents. They knew she was married, but Michael never actually met them. As far as he knew, her mother was dead, and her father was in a nursing home. He had no idea she was adopted, or who she really was.

  ‘The last time she saw her adoptive parents was ten years ago, on the 20th of October. Her mother made the mistake of saying she wished she had some grandchildren. As we know, this is Melanie’s particular trigger. This time, the unfortunate child was a seven-year-old taken from outside her parents’ home in Romsey. I assume she suffered the same fate as before, and again ended up buried in Wild Boar Woods.’

  ‘How much of this can we prove?’ asked Goodnews.

  ‘We can prove all the historical facts about her family history,’ he said. ‘But I don’t know how we’re going to prove she took those two little girls.’

  ‘Why did they move down here?’

  ‘It was better for her job, but maybe she wanted to be near the graves. Who knows?’

  ‘Did we ever find out where she was on the 20th of October this year?’ asked Goodnews.

  ‘You mean was she off looking for another girl? I don’t think so. When I contacted the nursing home yesterday, I tried a long shot and asked if they had anyone living there called Ormerod. Apparently they did. He was an old policeman. He’d been there for the best part of twenty years. He told them he’d moved up there to get away from his past. He only used to have one occasional visitor. Apparently she was called Melanie Southall. When I described her, guess who?’

  ‘But why would she go to see him?’ asked Darling.

  ‘He put her dad behind bars,’ said Slater. ‘The nursing home said he used to get upset every time she left. My guess is he got upset because she went there to torment him.’

  ‘Why don’t we go and ask him?’ said Goodnews.

  ‘He committed suicide the day after her last visit,’ said Slater, grimly.

  ‘She sounds like the complete piece of work,’ said Goodnews. ‘Are we sure there are only two kids who have died at her hands?’

  ‘They’ve only admitted to two, but there could be more. I think we need to check missing kids against that date.’

  ‘So basically we’ve just got loose ends to tie up,’ said Goodnews. ‘Maybe I’ll have to go to Scotland every weekend, if it means you’re going to wrap everything up while I’m gone.’

  ‘But we haven’t wrapped it up,’ said Slater. ‘Who are we going to charge?’

  ‘Oh, we charge both of them,’ said Goodnews. ‘It’s up to a jury to choose who they want to believe.’

  <<<<>>>>

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