Fall From Grace

by Menon, David

  ‘Good work, DCI Hoyland,’ said Hargreaves. ‘Does the DNA tell us anything else?’

  ‘There are at least twenty different examples of male contact, sir,’ said Sara, quietly. ‘But it’s going to take a while for them to try and identify it all.’

  ‘Sick bastards!’

  ‘Quite so, sir’ said Sara.

  ‘What about the area where she was found?’

  ‘Remote Derbyshire peak land, sir. It was a deer stalker who chanced upon her body. Gave him quite a shock I believe, as I suppose it would. There was a lot of overnight rain in the area which washed away any trace of tyre marks from a vehicle. There’s a farm two miles to the west and the nearest village is three miles to the north. The main A6 runs about five miles to the east and there are only narrow lanes and dirt tracks from there to the spot where Shona’s body was dumped. Our Derbyshire colleagues are making enquiries in the area.’

  ‘We’ve got to push harder on the parents,’ said DC Steve Osborne.

  ‘Well,’ said Sara, ‘as soon as it’s appropriate, sir, I’m going to visit Shona Higgins’ parents myself. See if I can get them to talk or at least to open up enough to give us something to go on.’

  ‘Ma’am, why isn’t it appropriate to do that now?’ chirped Steve Osborne again.

  ‘It’s not the job of the police to twist the knife of someone’s grief, DS Osborne,’ said Sara. ‘The officers who saw Mr and Mrs Higgins said they were genuinely distraught. This has clearly come as a huge shock to them and I’m only talking about leaving it for twenty-four hours. Any problem with that, DS Osborne?’

  Steve was suddenly self-conscious. ‘No, ma’am,’ he said, looking over at the Superintendent, ‘none at all. I was just asking a question.’

  ‘Good,’ said Sara, ‘well in the meantime, we’ve got an active investigation to be working on. DS Alexander has uncovered some information that leads me to believe that the extradition case of Dieter Naumann may not turn out to be as straightforward as we first thought. As you all know his bail conditions require him to stay at Gatley Hall as the guest of Lady Eleanor Harding. But we’ve found that this is not the first time he’s lived there and the hall itself has a macabre history that potentially places Dieter Naumann right at the centre of suspicion. Joe?’

  ‘Ma’am,’ said Joe who then cleared his throat. ‘A man called Peter Jenkins was murdered at the Hall on June 12th, 1940, four days after Dieter Naumann arrived in the country on his secret mission to negotiate a deal between Britain and Germany. Peter Jenkins had been having an affair with Lady Eleanor at the time but according to Naumann he and Lady Eleanor began their affair almost as soon as they’d laid eyes on each other. Wilfred Jenkins, who was then Lady Eleanor’s head of household, and Peter Jenkins’ father, were hanged for the crime on the sole evidence of her ladyship. Now we know from the transcript of the trial that Wilfred Jenkins said he found Peter in the swimming pool of Gatley Hall lying face down with Lady Eleanor and one other gentleman present but he didn’t know who that gentleman was.’

  ‘And you think it was Naumann?’ said Tim.

  ‘Yes, we do, sir,’ said Joe. ‘Lady Eleanor’s version of events, given at the trial was that Wilfred Jenkins flew into a rage when he saw his son and her together because he totally disapproved of their affair. In the struggle that followed he killed his son and she categorically denied that anybody else was present.’

  ‘But you think she lied to protect Naumann?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sara. ‘We suspect that Dieter Naumann may have been the real killer that night in a sort of crime of passion for Lady Eleanor. But she would’ve wanted to cover it up to protect Naumann’s anonymity and what better way to do that than to use Wilfred Jenkins so that Naumann could escape justice.’

  ‘It would’ve provided him with the perfect alibi,’ said Joe.

  ‘And what’s adding to our suspicious,’ said Sara, ‘is another murder that happened at the Hall in 1974.’

  ‘Christ, it’s turning into the house in Psycho,’ said Tim. ‘No wonder the place is on all those murder websites.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Joe. ‘On October 19th, 1974, Lady Eleanor’s daughter Clarissa allegedly fatally shot her father before disappearing without trace. Lady Eleanor had told the police at the time that, once again, she’d been the sole witness to events.’

  ‘But you think that if she’d lied to protect her lover Dieter Naumann in 1940 then she could’ve done it again in 1974?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ said Sara. ‘He was known as Gerald Edwards then but they were still protecting his identity.’

  ‘No point in protecting it now,’ said Tim. ‘It’s all over the press.’

  ‘Yes, and the revealing of his existence could fundamentally change both cases,’ added Sara.

  ‘So what are you proposing to do, Sara?’ asked Hargreaves.

  ‘I’m going to re-open the cases, sir,’ said Sara. ‘I’m convinced that justice has yet to be served on both of them and that a potentially innocent man went to the gallows. I’m also convinced that Dieter Naumann holds the key but first I want to speak to Lady Eleanor. She knows something that will lead us to make the right connections. She strikes me as being a born liar and manipulator.’

  ‘You’re taking on a lot here, DCI Hoyland,’ said Hargreaves, ‘what with this and the Shona Higgins case.’

  ‘I know, sir,’ said Sara, ‘but we can deal with it.’

  *

  It had been a long and pretty gruelling day at the centre and when Paul got home he poured himself a large scotch. He sat down and let his head lean back against the sofa. He closed his eyes. During the day he had so much to distract him from thinking about Jake. It was when he got home that it hit him like a ton of bricks. Every night was the same. He’d make himself something to eat, open some wine, watch some television and if his father wasn’t occupying his every thought right up until his head hit the pillow, then Jake was. He couldn’t do anything abut his father. He couldn’t take his pain away or rid him of the disease that was so cruelly savaging such a good man. But he could do something about his worry over Jake. He could do what Kelly had suggested. He could get hold of himself and do something about finding out why Jake had not been in touch for so long and he had to be prepared for any consequences.

  He downed his scotch and then poured himself another. Then he picked up the phone and dialled Jake’s mobile. His hand was shaking and he told himself not to be so stupid. Then a young sounding woman with a broad Lancashire accent answered.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Oh … is that Jake’s phone or have I got the wrong number?’

  ‘Yeah it’s Jake’s phone,’ said the woman.

  ‘Sorry, is he still in Afghanistan?’

  ‘Afghanistan? No, he’s been back from there for nearly three months now. He’s just gone out to collect a pizza for us. Who’s calling please?’

  Paul swallowed. Three months? He’s been back for three fucking months? He felt sick. ‘I’m… I’m Paul Foster. I’m a friend of Jake’s in Manchester.’

  ‘Ooh sorry, Paul, you must think I’m a bit rude but I just didn’t recognise your voice,’ she said, adding a touch of nervous laughter. ‘I don’t think you were at the wedding were you?’

  ‘Wedding?’

  ‘Mine and Jake’s. We got married a month ago. I’m Tiffany, his wife. Shall I tell him you called? I didn’t know he had a friend called Paul in Manchester. Have you known him long?’

  SIX

  Kelly found a lemon in her fridge so she did the only thing she could do in the circumstances and went out and bought a bottle of gin and some tonic water.

  As she passed Paul’s place on her way back from the corner shop she noticed that the lights weren’t on but she could see him sitting there in the front room. She had a key so she let herself in.

  ‘What are you doing sitting here in the dark?’ She reached for the light switch on the wall but Paul held his hand up.

  ‘No please don’t, Kelly.’
>
  She could see that he’d had a few. ‘What on earth has happened? Is it your Dad?’

  ‘No,’ said Paul, ‘it isn’t my Dad.’

  She sat down beside him. ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘I rang Jake’s mobile.’

  Kelly held her breath. ‘And?’

  ‘And his wife Tiffany answered.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Kelly exclaimed before putting her arms round him. ‘Oh, Paul.’

  ‘I’ve been such a bloody fool, Kelly!’

  ‘So he’s back from Afghanistan?’

  ‘He’s been back for the last twelve weeks apparently.’

  Kelly was furious. ‘When I think of how you’ve worried yourself sick all this time!’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So what did this Tiffany sound like?’

  ‘A young woman in her early twenties head over heels in love with her handsome soldier boy. I wish to God I was in her place.’

  ‘Has Jake tried to call you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘You know what really pisses me off is that he didn’t even care enough about me to dump me by flaming text! At least that would have been something. I gave him everything, Kelly, all my heart, all my soul, all my devotion. And in the end he acts like none of it ever mattered to him.’

  ‘Well what will you say if he does contact you?’

  ‘Ask him if there’s a wedding list...’

  ‘I know what I’d like to give him for a wedding present,’ said Kelly, ‘but it’s not something you can buy in a shop. I’ll bloody kill him if I see him.’

  ‘No you won’t because I’ll have got there first.’

  ‘Well I think it’s good that you’re angry as well as hurt,’ said Kelly.

  ‘I can’t tell you how angry I am, Kelly.’

  ‘But look, think what this means,’ said Kelly. ‘You’re free again now, Paul.’

  Paul was aghast at Kelly’s apparent insensitivity. ‘Oh yeah, it’s all so easy to pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again!’ he retorted. ‘If you and Lydia finished tomorrow could you do that as easily as you expect me to?’

  ‘No, I was…’

  ‘… and look, I know I never lived with him and that I didn’t see him as often as I would’ve liked. But that doesn’t give you the right to play down the value of what we had together.’

  ‘Which was what exactly?’

  ‘As close as we could’ve made it,’ said Paul, suddenly distraught all over again.

  ‘And you’re still in love with him.’

  ‘I always will be,’ said Paul. ‘That won’t ever change.’

  Kelly sat back and paused after receiving Paul’s onslaught. She knew that his heart had been beating for Jake since the day he met him. Of course it wasn’t going to be easy to just wipe all the hurt away and she hadn’t meant to say what she’d said in the way that she’d said it. It had just come out all wrong.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Paul. ‘I’m just a bit raw tonight, you know.’

  ‘I know,’ said Kelly, rubbing his shoulder. ‘I just don’t want you to think of it as the end of the world.’

  ‘Yeah, well sorry to disappoint, but that’s just how it does feel.’

  ‘I can’t seem to say anything right tonight, can I.’

  Paul took hold of her hand and squeezed it. ‘I’m sorry too, Kell. I shouldn’t take it out on you.’

  ‘You’re in pain, Paul,’ said Kelly. ‘I understand.’

  ‘I think I’m going to stick to wine from now on,’ said Paul. ‘At least if you get a bad bottle of wine you can just open another one.’

  Kelly laughed. ‘Look, why don’t you come round to ours and get seriously pissed?’

  ‘What, and have Lydia put Shirley Bassey on at full blast like she always does when she’s had one too many? No thanks. I think I’d lose the will to live if I had to watch her miming to Goldfinger tonight.’

  ‘Well at least you’re holding on to your sense of humour,’ said Kelly.

  ‘Oh Kelly, why can’t you have a cock?’

  ‘Hey listen love, if I had a cock I’d be dangerous.’

  ‘Do you ever wish Lydia had one?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ said Kelly, thoughtfully. ‘But we’ve got a…’

  ‘…yes, okay,’ said Paul, holding up his hand, ‘too much information even for a gay best friend thank you very much.’

  ‘Well anyway, she makes up for it in other ways and at least I don’t have to put up with man smells in the bathroom which is what you get when you invite cock into your life.’

  ‘Jake used to leave the most wonderful man smells in my bathroom,’ said Paul, wistfully. ‘Real masculinity; sweat, strength. Just the sort of smells that really turn me on.’

  ‘Don’t,’ she warned, waving her finger at him, ‘you’ll have those man smells in your bathroom again. They just won’t come from that spineless bastard.’

  *

  ‘But why are you so determined to implicate my poor Dieter in cases that were all over and done with years ago?’ Eleanor demanded as she sat in front of Sara and Joe Alexander in the drawing room of Gatley Hall. She was being interviewed under caution.

  ‘Well not quite, Lady Eleanor,’ said Joe, ‘your daughter is still missing.’

  ‘Is there no end to your vindictiveness against a defenceless old man?’

  Sara could’ve laughed. Defenceless was one thing that Dieter Naumann wasn’t. She’d met some hardened criminals in her time but Naumann sent a shiver down her spine like no other.

  ‘As part of the extradition process we have to take a thorough look at Dieter Naumann’s life. Surely you can see that? Especially when two murders occurred at which Naumann could’ve been present. We’re not trying to implicate him, Lady Eleanor, we just want to find out the truth.’

  Eleanor didn’t bother to reply. She was sick of it all. It was such a waste of time. No charges would ever be allowed to be made against her or Dieter. She knew that even though they didn’t.

  ‘Tell us about when you first met Dieter Naumann, Lady Eleanor?’ said Sara.

  ‘He landed his plane at an RAF base in Yorkshire that night in June 1940 and I went to meet him. I hadn’t been able to go to my sister’s wedding in Berlin and with the build-up to the war it meant that she and Dieter weren’t able to come over here. Everything was covered in great secrecy that night and the atmosphere was rather tense but we fell instantly in love with each other. I’d never known passion like it, nor had Dieter. When the deal he’d come to negotiate was scrapped and he was placed under house arrest here at the Hall, I suppose you could say it meant that he and I had the most glorious war. We were together day and night and it was like that until the end of the war when a different kind of reality stabbed us both straight through the heart. You see, my husband wouldn’t give me the divorce I wanted in order to marry Dieter, or Gerald Edwards as he’d then become. I wanted so badly for us to be together but my husband Ronald wouldn’t grant me a divorce under any circumstances.’

  ‘And how did you feel about that?’ Sara asked.

  ‘Well how do you think? It broke my bloody heart.’

  ‘And why wouldn’t your husband grant you a divorce?’ Sara asked. ‘He was the Conservative Member of Parliament for the area for many years, right up until his death. Was he afraid of a scandal?’

  ‘No, he simply insisted that I keep to my side of the agreement we’d made,’ said Eleanor. ‘He was a closet homosexual and in those days they had no choice but to stay hidden and keep their proclivity secret. Nowadays of course if a Conservative politician wants to do the same as Ronald did then, the multi-millionaire can claim he was saving money when he had his handsome researcher share his hotel room. That is rather pathetic given today’s more, shall we say, enlightened times, but for Ronald that kind of subterfuge was an absolute necessity. We’d grown up together and were great friends and the arrangement had suited us both when we
first got together. Ronald had cover for his sexual activities and I could never see myself settling down with just one man and wanted to carry on playing the field.’

  ‘With men like Peter Jenkins?’

  ‘Oh Peter was such a deliciously handsome boy,’ said Eleanor, recalling every inch of him. ‘Like some Hollywood matinee idol. God only knows how his dull, ugly parents could’ve produced him but they did.’

  ‘Did you end your affair with Peter Jenkins when you met Dieter Naumann?’

  ‘Yes’

  ‘Immediately?’

  ‘Give or take a day.’

  ‘And how did Jenkins feel about that?’

  ‘Well I couldn’t have cared less then, so don’t ask me to care now.’

  ‘Was he angry, Lady Eleanor?’

  ‘Well he wasn’t pleased but, look, where is this leading exactly?’

  ‘Did Peter Jenkins get so angry about the way you’d treated him that he sought Naumann out and they fought? A fight that led to Jenkins’ death?’

  Eleanor narrowed her eyes. ‘You really are full of fanciful notions,’ she spat.