Finding Lucy

by Ernesto Lee

  Cath switches on the kettle to make herself a coffee while I get changed and from inside the bathroom I hear her call out to say that she is making one for me also.

  “I think you could do with one to clear your head, boss. Oh, and bring some mouthwash with you. You’re breath smells like ass and not a cute one either.”

  Thirty minutes later, we arrive back at Meadow Farm and Cath leads me towards the search site. The clearing is lit up like a Christmas tree by portable floodlights. A dozen uniformed officers are performing a detailed search of the area surrounding the burial site and the location pointed out by Catherine earlier today has been covered with a white canvas tent to protect against unauthorized access or contamination of evidence.

  A young constable checks our warrant cards and then hands us forensics suits, shoe covers, gloves, and masks before allowing us to enter the tent. Inside, Catherine introduces me to the pathologist and to a detective inspector from Lincolnshire CID.

  “Boss, this is Dr. Carl Mason and let me also introduce DI Patrick Miller from Lincolnshire CID. As soon as we are done here, DI Miller and his team will be taking over and will clear the site.”

  I shake both their hands and thank them for their support and then I move closer to the area that has been excavated. A skeleton is clearly visible, but it is still partially covered in places by soil. I can see enough, though, to see that the bones are charred and blackened. The image of Lucy falling into the fire nearly fifty years ago replays in my head in graphic detail. The combination of this and a quarter bottle of Jameson just a few hours ago leaves me nauseous and for a second I think that I might throw up.

  Sensing that something is wrong, Cath hands me a bottle of water and then diverts the attention away from me by asking Dr. Mason if he has managed to establish a cause of death yet.

  Although he probably doesn’t need to, Monroe refers to his notepad before shaking his head.

  “It’s a little too early to say, DC Swain. I need to get the body back to the lab. Until then I wouldn’t like to speculate if the body was burnt pre- or post-mortem. Based on my experience, though, and the condition of the remains, I’m reasonably confident that we are looking at a burial sometime between forty and fifty years ago.”

  Catherine and I both look at each other at the same time and we have clearly read each other’s mind.

  “This is it, boss,” Catherine says. “Finding her body on Eddie’s land is more than enough reason to bring him in for questioning. Will I …”

  “Sorry to interrupt you, DC Swain. But did you say, ‘her body’?” Monroe asks. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but whilst I’m unable to comment yet on the cause of death I can say with absolute certainty that we are looking at the skeleton of a young adult male, not a female.”

  To emphasize his point, he leans over the skeleton and points towards the pelvic area.

  “The most obvious difference between male and female skeletal make up is the pelvic bone. In females it has a much more rounded appearance. There are a few other less obvious differences such as the shape of the jawline and the thickness of the bones, but in this case, the pelvic bone is most definitely male.”

  “Paul Oliver,” I say to nobody in particular.

  “Sorry, boss. What was that you said?” Cath asks me.

  “It has to be Paul Oliver. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

  My comment has got the attention of DI Miller and he asks me to explain myself.

  “Yes, sir. Paul Oliver was one of the original suspects in the case that we are working on. It was assumed that he had skipped town shortly after the disappearance of Lucy Partington-Brown. Nothing has been seen or heard of him since 1972, but if I was a betting man, I would say that we have just found him.”

  Miller is busy scribbling in his pocketbook, and I suggest to him to pull Paul Oliver’s medical and dental records.

  “Start on the assumption that this is Paul Oliver, sir. You might save yourself a lot of time.”

  “Thank you, DS McMillan, that’s very helpful,” Miller replies.

  We swap numbers and then DI Miller leaves to brief his men on the latest developments. I ask Catherine to go outside to call DCI Morgan to give him the news and to ask his permission to bring Eddie Wells in for questioning tomorrow.

  “Don’t you think it would be better coming from you, boss?”

  “You’re probably right, Cath. But I’m not feeling particularly great at the moment. If he asks, just tell him that I’m busy with the pathologist. Go on, I need to ask Dr. Mason a few things anyway.”

  As soon as Cath has left the tent, I tell Monroe that the search team need to continue and excavate deeper.

  “I don’t understand, DS McMillan. We have found a body where we were asked to search. Is there something else that we need to know?”

  “You’ve found ‘a body’, doctor, not ‘the body.’ We were hoping to find the body of our missing person, Ms. Lucy Partington-Brown. Our investigations led us to believe that this is where we would find her, and I still believe that to be the case. Look closer at the excavation site, Dr. Mason.”

  I take him back to the edge of the site and we both stare into the hole. Mason puts his glasses on for a better look, then tucks them back in his jacket pocket and looks at me with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Okay, so I’m looking at this body with the eyes and brain of a pathologist and I assume that you are looking with the eyes and brain of a detective. What am I meant to be looking at, DS McMillan?”

  “How far down did you have to dig before you found the body? Two feet or perhaps two and a half?”

  “Twenty-three inches to be precise,” Mason replies.

  “Twenty-three inches, doctor. Look around you. Even now, this area is totally secluded. Forty or fifty years ago, I doubt if this area saw more than a few passing visitors in a year. Why would somebody be so lazy as to only bury the body just two feet below the surface? They would have had all the time in the world to go deeper and why take the risk of the body being dug up by wild animals or being exposed by the weather?”

  Mason is still looking none the wiser and before he can attempt to answer my question, I interrupt and answer it for him.

  “Because, doctor, there was already a recently dug hole containing another body and it was too easy just to dig up the same patch of freshly dug earth and throw this one in on the top. Once you have finished the excavation of this body, you need to dig down further. I suggest that you prepare your team for a long night.”

  I can see that he is skeptical about my theory, but out of concern for his professional reputation, I know that he won’t refuse my request. If he was to refuse and a second body was discovered later by another team, his reputation would be in tatters. Reluctantly, he agrees to my request and leaves to instruct the search team to be prepared to resume the search. Outside the tent, I hand back the forensic suit and other items to the young constable and make my way back through the woods to find Catherine.

  The lights from the guest house are all on and outside on the patio, the owner, Peter Jackson, is handing out plates of sandwiches and mugs of steaming tea to some of the search team and police officers. I ask him if he has seen Catherine and he points at the kitchen window.

  “She was inside a few minutes ago making a call.”

  I make my way inside and find Catherine standing next to the sink looking absolutely exhausted.

  “Tough day, Cath?” I ask her.

  “A tough day and a bloody crazy one,” she replies. “One attempted murder, one actual murder, and one body buried in a forest. I knew this case was going to be a can of worms, but this is just crazy. A few days ago, this was a simple missing person case, now we seem to have a serial killer on the loose.”

  “A bit dramatic, don’t you think, Cath?” I ask her.

  “Oh, and did I mention that once again my partner is shutting me out and acting like a complete and utter asshole? Or is that still a bit dramatic for you, Jo
hn Travolta?”

  I laugh at her comment and raise my eyebrows.

  “Thanks, I guess I deserved that. I know I’m an asshole, Cath, and I know I keep saying it, but we’re a good team and whilst there are things that I can’t always share with you we do get there in the end. Today has been a shit day, but we have also made some real progress. We didn’t find Lucy’s body, but finding this other body has opened the door for us with Eddie Wells. If we can get him alone in a station, we have a real chance at getting to the truth about what happened to Lucy.”

  Even Catherine can’t deny that we have made progress and she is as keen as I am to interview Eddie.

  “DI Morgan has given us his full support to bring Eddie in for interview.”

  “That’s brilliant,” I reply. “Let’s pull him in bright and early tomorrow.”

  “Yep, a bit of a problem with that, boss. Morgan wants them to have at least twelve-hours’ notice before the interview. He is concerned if we drag Eddie in without warning, he will have the Home Secretary jumping all over him if Sir David makes a complaint.”

  This news is a massive kick in the nuts. With twelve hours, Joanna and any good solicitor will have enough time to fill Eddie’s head with all kinds of advice and suggestions. Whilst I can understand Morgan’s reasoning, it doesn’t make the news any easier to swallow.

  “For fuck’s sake, Cath, there is an unexplained body buried on a tract of land owned by Eddie Wells. If we wanted to, we would be perfectly within our rights to kick down his door and drag him out of his bed right now. This is total BS, but we don’t have a choice. Make the call now. Get them into Spalding station early tomorrow afternoon. I’m gonna head back to the hotel.”

  “Okay, give me a few minutes to get my stuff from my room,” Cath replies, before I stop her from leaving the kitchen.

  “No, I want you to stay here, but get some sleep. I need you on form tomorrow.”

  I explain to Cath about my conversation with Dr. Mason after she had left.

  “You really think she is down there, boss?”

  “She is, Cath. I’d stake my reputation and my life on it. I need you to be here, just in case anything else turns up tonight. Hit your bed, though. Doc Monroe will call you if they find anything.”

  “Hmm,” Cath murmurs, with the same look of skepticism as Monroe had. “That’s fine, but don’t forget, it’s my reputation as well, Sean.”

  “Have I ever let you down, Cath?” I ask her.

  “You might not like the answer to that one, boss, so I think I will exercise my right to silence. Do you want me to give you a lift back to Tyevale?”

  “That’s okay, Cath. I’ll cadge a lift from one of the boys in blue. Call me if there are any developments or if you need anything.”

  She raises her eyebrows and then tells me that I can count on it, before sarcastically adding.

  “Don’t forget to turn your phone back on, boss. It generally makes it easier for me to call you.”

  I thank my uniformed colleague for the lift back to Tyevale and then I head to the hotel bar just in time to catch last orders. It’s almost one in the morning and I need to take the opportunity to travel again, but for the last few hours something has been worrying me and it won’t wait until tomorrow.

  I take a large gulp of my drink to steady my nerves and then I scroll through my contacts and make a call. Given the time, I’m surprised when Maria answers almost immediately.

  “Sean, hi. Is everything okay? Has something else happened?

  “Everything is fine,” I reassure her. “I’m really sorry to call so late, but it’s been a hectic day. I hope that I didn’t wake you. I was calling to check on Ben.”

  “That’s okay, Sean. I can’t sleep anyway. He seemed to be doing okay, but then this afternoon, the strangest thing happened.”

  I have a feeling I know what she is about to say, but I feign ignorance and ask her what she means.

  “The doctors woke him up a couple of hours after you left. He was very groggy still, but we managed to talk for a few minutes before he went back to sleep again. I stayed with him for another twenty minutes to make sure he was okay. The color was back in his cheeks and he seemed to be sleeping soundly, so I stepped outside to get myself a coffee and a bite to eat. I was only gone ten minutes, Sean. I don’t know what happened.”

  Her voice is breaking up and I can imagine that she is welling up as she speaks.

  “What happened, Maria? Please try not to get upset. Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s crazy, I was only gone for ten minutes,” she repeats. “When I got back, he was lying face down in the bed tangled up in his IV with blood all over his back from where some of his stitches had burst.”

  “What did Ben say?” I ask her. “Was he able to tell you what happened?”

  “He didn’t say anything, Sean. He was still asleep and heavily sedated. After repairing the damage to his stitches, the doctor increased his level of sedation again to ensure he gets a good rest tonight.”

  I suggest to her that he might possibly have had a nightmare or a flashback to the shooting.

  “I know from experience, Maria, that it’s not something that you can easily forget. It’s getting on for two months since I was shot, and I am still struggling to sleep properly. Even with heavy sedation, it’s possible that he might have turned himself over.”

  “Okay, well that might explain his stitches bursting, but there was something else, Sean. When I touched him, his skin was freezing. I don’t just mean cold, I literally mean freezing. Like he had spent the night outside and his feet were filthy. It doesn’t make any sense and I feel like I am going mad. I’m his mother and I should be able to protect him.”

  “You’re not responsible for any of this, Maria, so please don’t take any of the blame on yourself. Just being there for him is enough and the thing he will want to see most when he wakes up is your smiling face. We are close to finding the person responsible. Just hang in there and in a few days, Ben will be strong enough for you to take him home.”

  Maria thanks me for calling and promises to keep me informed of any developments before we end the call. I’ve probably had enough to drink already today, but my mind is working overtime again trying to make sense of everything that has happened since we arrived in Tyevale.

  Just before the barman turns off the lights, I order one more drink. I take it to my room and sit down in front of the TV to write up my notes.

  Cath was right earlier, in less than a week our case has changed dramatically from an investigation into the disappearance of a young woman, to an investigation involving multiple murder and attempted murder. Tomorrow we are going to question Eddie Wells about the disappearance of Lucy, the death of Father Beale, the attempted murder of myself, the wounding of Ben, and now the discovery of a body on his land. Unbeknown to Cath, and now that I know what happened to her, I am also going to push Eddie on the subject of Beatrice Partington-Brown’s death.

  Away from the influence of Joanna and with the right amount of pressure, I am certain that he will spill his guts. If he does and if he confirms Joanna’s part in the deaths, this will be all the reason we need to bring her in for questioning.

  Eddie is guilty of his crimes and needs to be held accountable, but it is Joanna that has set him up as the fall guy through a sustained campaign of bullying and blackmail. Joanna is a cold and calculating bitch who needs to be taken down before she can hurt anyone else.

  We are close to breaking this case, but we can’t be complacent.

  My plan for what’s left of the night is to travel back to the last time that Paul Oliver was seen in Tyevale. The approval to bring Eddie in for questioning was partly based on my belief that the body found on his land is that of Paul Oliver. I’m certain that it is Paul in the hole, but it can’t do any harm to see what happened for myself.

  In my rush to leave the hotel earlier, I had discarded my outfit on the bathroom floor. The suit is wrinkled and slightly damp, but its alr
eady very late and I’m in no mood for ironing. I splash some cold water on my face, dress in the suit, and then retrieve a badly creased black-and-white photograph of Paul Oliver from the case file. In the picture he is smartly dressed in a suit and is posing next to a Lambretta scooter. In my mind, I picture him riding the scooter through the streets of Tyevale. It is the beginning of April and although the sun is shining, he is wearing a khaki-colored fishtail parka that is blowing in the wind. As he speeds away down the high street, my eyes close and I am there.

  The Past – Sunday, 2nd April, 1972

  In the distance, I can hear shooting from more than one weapon and the sound of dogs barking. It sounds like a shooting party and as I peer through the gap in the trees, my assumption is confirmed. A line of beaters is thrashing away at the waist-high grass to spook the grouse or pheasant to take flight in the direction of the waiting shooters and half a dozen hounds are dashing back and forth to retrieve the birds that have been hit.

  I had been hoping to catch up with Paul Oliver somewhere in Tyevale, but I’m disappointed to see Colevale Manor another half mile or so further on from where the group of shooters are standing.

  This must then be land owned by Sir David and I must be standing in a part of the same forest where I fell victim to the mantrap on my last trip. If my memory serves me correctly, this land wasn’t transferred into Joanna’s name until sometime in August of 1972 and Joanna and Eddie didn’t marry until 1973. It’s unlikely that there are any mantraps lying around now, but regardless, I know that I need to tread carefully. If by chance, there are any here and I get caught again, it will be game over for this trip and, with Ben so heavily sedated, there is only a very slim chance that he will be showing up again to rescue me.

  I watch the shooting party for a few minutes whilst I try to work out my next move. My arrival in this spot has left me more than a little confused. My accuracy recently has been extremely good for both location and date. The image of Paul Oliver had been clear in my mind and I had fully expected to open my eyes and be standing in the middle of Tyevale.