by Ernesto Lee
“And does he need protecting?” I ask. “Mr. Wells, were you going to ask me if that was Lucy Partington-Brown?”
“I’ve advised my client not to answer any further questions regarding either of the skeletons discovered on his land,” Morris responds. “My client vehemently denies all knowledge of the identities, or indeed of how they came to be buried on his land.”
“Really, Mr. Morris? One of them has already been positively identified as a person very well known to your client and the second is almost certainly Lucy Partington-Brown. Mr. Wells knows this very well.”
I turn back to Eddie and ask him why he kept that particular piece of land. “We checked the records, Mr. Wells. You sold your farm and most of your land on March 20th, 1972. Why did you sell up less than a week after the disappearance of your wife’s sister and why did you keep this piece of land?”
Eddie is struggling to speak, so I keep going and intensify my attack.
“You sold the land because you were being blackmailed by Joanna into paying off Sir David’s debts. You killed Lucy after luring her to your farm and Joanna found out about it. You sold your land and handed over everything to your wife and Sir David, but you kept one piece of land. The piece of land where you had buried Lucy’s body!”
For emphasis I stand up and slam my hand down on the table as I say the word ‘body’.
Eddie has tears in his eyes again and Morris is on his feet protesting, but I’m not done yet. Ignoring Morris, I throw the other photographs of Paul across the table again.
“You killed Lucy, you lured her to the woods, and you killed her in cold blood. And what about Paul Oliver and that cock-and- bull story about him murdering your mother-in-law? That was all rubbish, wasn’t it? Paul and Beatrice both found out what you had done, so you bashed Paul’s head in, and you smothered Beatrice with a pillow. How could you do such a thing to your own wife’s family and friends?”
Morris is demanding I stop, and Miller pulls me back into my seat.
“Gentlemen, let’s just calm things down a bit please. DS McMillan, let’s move on please.”
My attack could not have gone any better and I am pleased that Miller has gone along with the plan without interrupting my flow. I’ve no idea how much Jeffrey Morris knows about what has really happened, but it is written all over Eddie’s face. He is stunned with just how close I am to the truth.
Morris has also retaken his seat, but his annoyance is obvious.
“Before we move on, DI Miller, and for the benefit of the tape, I would like to warn DS McMillan that he is sailing very close to the wind with his confrontational interview style. My client has come here willingly and is prepared to assist in your enquiries, but if he continues in such a way I will have no option but to advise Mr. Wells to withdraw his cooperation.”
“I’m actually done for now, Mr. Morris,” I reply. “DC Swain will now take over, if that’s acceptable to you?”
Morris is no fool and knows only too well that I am far from done, but he knows that Catherine will be less aggressive. Not that we need it, Morris gives his consent and Cath takes over with a far subtler approach.
“Mr. Wells, yesterday, DS McMillan showed you two quite graphic photographs that caused you to get quite distressed and physically ill. Upsetting you was not the intention, but I do need to ask you some questions about those pictures. Is that okay, Mr. Wells? If we can do that, then we can move on and try to end this interview as quickly as possible. I know how stressful these things can be.”
Catherine follows up her opening statement with a smile and, pleased that it is no longer me, Eddie smiles slightly himself and agrees.
“Thank you, Mr. Wells. That’s good,” Catherine replies.
Morris already has copies of the photographs in his pack and for the record Catherine confirms the exhibit numbers, before sliding our copies across the table for Eddie to see.
“Mr. Wells, the first photograph is of a young man who was shot in the shoulder with a shotgun on the morning of Friday April 20th. Is there anything that you can tell us about this?”
Eddie shakes his head and Cath tells him, “For the tape please, Mr. Wells.”
“No, I don’t know anything about it. Why would I?”
“Perhaps because the young man wasn’t the intended victim, or perhaps because the attack took place on your land, Mr. Wells. He was shot in exactly the same place that the skeleton of Paul Oliver was found.”
As with me, Eddie is now trying to avoid Cath’s gaze. Realizing that he is not going to answer anytime soon, Catherine continues.
“Okay, well I’m going to tell you what I think happened and then you can tell me if I’m wrong. I think that after DS McMillan and I came to your home for the second time, Joanna arranged for you to follow us. You were both worried that we were getting close to the truth about what happened to Lucy. So, you followed us from our hotel to Meadow Farm and into the woods with the intention of killing us both. Unfortunately, this young man spotted you and was shot trying to warn us. You then made your escape back to Colevale Manor on a motorbike or a quad bike. How am I doing, Mr. Wells?”
“That’s not what happened,” Eddie protests.
“Really? Then what did happen, Mr. Wells? Tell us what happened, and we can help you. Help us to help you,” Catherine implores him.
“I don’t know anything about this, I wasn’t there.”
“Well, if it wasn’t you, Mr. Wells, then it must have been Father Beale. Our witness does say that he saw the shooter wearing a dog collar. Was it Father Beale, Mr. Wells? You know who Father Beale is, don’t you?”
“Yes, it was. I mean, yes, I know him. It could have been him. I don’t know, I don’t know.”
Clearly panicked and vulnerable, I point to the second picture and pick up where I left off.
“It wasn’t Father Beale. How could it have been? When this young man was attacked it was after seven in the morning. Father Beale had already been dead for at least four hours by then. Look at the picture, Mr. Wells. No wonder it made you sick. What was the worst part about killing him? Bashing his head in or blowing his brains out?”
“No, please. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t want any of …”
“Mr. Wells don’t say anything else. DI Miller, we need to adjourn so that I may speak with my client,” Morris interjects.
“All in good time,” Miller replies. “Carry on, DS McMillan.”
“This is not looking good for you, Mr. Wells. How many more are there? You’re never going to see the light of day again if you don’t start cooperating. Tell us what you have done. Tell us about Joanna. Did she put you up to all this? Was she blackmailing you?”
“DI Miller, DS McMillan, I demand that we adjourn immediately.”
Morris stands up and I tell him to sit down.
“We will adjourn when we are ready to adjourn and not before. Your client is suspected of multiple murders and he needs to answer our questions, so I suggest that you advise him to stop playing games.”
Reluctantly, he takes his seat and allows me to continue.
“Mr. Wells, did you kill Father James Beale at Beckhampton Church in the early hours of Friday April 20th, 2018?”
“No, no, no. I didn’t kill anyone,” Eddie protests.
“You’re a liar,” I shout. “Your prints are all over the weapon!”
Tears are streaming down Eddie’s cheeks as he turns to Morris.
“He’s lying. I never even touched the weapon. It was Joanna. It was her idea, not mine.”
Morris looks stunned and Eddie looks beaten, but I feel jubilant. I look to Miller and suggest that now might be the right time to take an adjournment. Catherine notes the time and turns off the tape.
Before we leave Jeffrey Morris alone to speak with Eddie, I give him some advice.
“Mr. Morris, based on what your client has just told us, it is our intention when we reconvene to arrest your client for the murders of Lucy Partington-Brown, Beatrice Partington-Brown,
Paul Oliver, and Father James Beale. Additionally, we will be arresting him for the attempted murder of myself and DC Swain, as well as the wounding of Benjamin Pinto. I don’t think I need to tell you that Mr. Wells is looking at a mandatory life sentence without parole if convicted. We’re going to give you ten minutes alone. I suggest you use that time wisely.”
And then to Eddie as we leave, “Mr. Wells, listen to Mr. Morris. You don’t need to take this all on yourself. Do the right thing and tell us about your wife’s involvement. Anything you do to help us will be considered later and might help in greatly reducing your sentence.”
Leaving them alone to speak in private, we walk to the end of the corridor so that we can’t be overheard.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Sean. That was crude, but it was effective. This is big news,” Miller says. “You need to get Joanna in before anything leaks to the papers. With the multiple murders and the connection to Sir David, it’s only a matter of time before the press gets wind. When that happens, this is going to be front-page news.”
“Yes, I know, sir,” I reply. “We need to bring DCI Morgan into the loop as well so that he can brief the Home Secretary and the Chief Constable of Lincolnshire. Not just yet, though. Other than implicating Joanna for the murder of Father Beale, Wells hasn’t actually admitted to anything else yet and I don’t want to jump the gun.”
“You think that Morris will be advising him to play ball, boss?” Cath asks me.
“Yes, I do, Cath. Morris won’t risk his reputation trying to defend the indefensible. He will throw Joanna to the wolves and defend Wells on the basis of Joanna’s blackmail and manipulation. Undoubtedly, if Eddie cooperates, Morris will get him a greatly reduced sentence. Whether his clients are found guilty or not, he will still be a winner. This will be another case that dominates the headlines for months and there is no such thing as bad publicity for guys like him.”
We chat for another five minutes and write up a shortlist of questions, then Cath checks her watch and confirms that their time is up.
“That’s their ten minutes, boss. Let’s get back in there.”
We take our seats again. I ask Morris if he is ready to continue. He confirms that he is. Catherine starts the tape.
“This interview is being reconvened following an earlier adjournment and, for the benefit of the tape, the time now is 5:47 pm and the date is Sunday April 22nd, 2018. Still present in the room are Detective Constable Catherine Swain, Detective Sergeant Sean McMillan, Detective Inspector Patrick Miller, Mr. Edward Wells, and Mr. Wells’ legal counsel, the Honorable Jeffrey Morris QC. I must remind you again, Mr. Wells, that you are not currently under arrest, but I caution you that anything you say during this interview may be used in evidence against you. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Eddie confirms.
“Thank you, Mr. Wells. Have you had a chance to speak with your legal counsel?” I ask him.
“Yes, I have, thank you,” he replies.
“Good, in that case DC Swain is going to ask you a series of questions and we need you to answer them honestly and to the best of your ability. Is that clear?”
Eddie nods and then verbally confirms. I pass the list over to Cath and she gets to work.
“Mr. Wells, before the break you told us that it was your wife that killed Father James Beale. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is.”
Morris encourages Eddie to say more.
“Go on, Mr. Wells, the more you can tell the police, the more it will help you.”
“We knew that you were planning to visit him, and we were worried about what he might tell you about how Lucy died. Joanna came up with a plan to make it look like it was him that had attacked you.”
“The dog collar you mean?” Catherine asks.
“Yes, but also by making it look like he killed himself afterwards,” Eddie replies.
“I stole a motorbike and then I drove Joanna and the bike to Beckhampton church. Joanna had called him to say she was coming, so he wasn’t surprised and let her in willingly. I parked at the back of the church and Joanna let me in through the gate. He was already unconscious when I went inside. I helped Joanna put him into the chair, but I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t do it. I’d had enough. She was the one that put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. After that she gave me the dog collar and told me that I should follow you and try to scare you off. I never intended to hurt either you or that boy. Is he okay?”
“Fortunately, yes,” Cath replies. “He was very lucky, but don’t worry about that for now. I need you to keep talking. Did you kill Lucy Partington-Brown? Is hers the second skeleton?”
“It was an accident. I was fighting with Father Beale and I hit her by mistake. She fell into the fire.”
Cath makes a note on her pad before continuing.
“So, Father Beale witnessed her death and that’s why he was killed. What about Paul Oliver and Beatrice Partington-Brown. Did you also kill them?”
His voice is shaky and low, but Eddie confirms that he did.
“I didn’t want any of this, but Joanna kept saying that if I didn’t do exactly what she wanted that she would go to the police and tell them that I had deliberately killed her sister.”
“How did you kill them both?”
“Joanna brought Paul to Meadow Farm. I’d sold it, but I hadn’t moved out yet. I waited in the woods for them and I smashed his head in with a shovel.”
“And Beatrice?” Cath asks him.
“Joanna wanted it to look like natural causes, so we poisoned her with small doses of foxglove. It was taking too long, though, so Joanna insisted I smother her with a cushion. I smothered her. There was someone else there, though, I swear to that. We chased a man out of the house, and he got caught in a trap. I left him to fetch Joanna and when we got back he was gone.”
The memory and the pain of the trap is still fresh in my mind, but it has all been worth it. There will need to be many more interviews with both Eddie and Joanna, but today’s admissions are more than enough to formally arrest him and to bring Joanna in.
We go through the formal process of placing Eddie under arrest and then Miller calls for the duty sergeant to assist in escorting him to one of the holding cells. I ask Morris if he would mind waiting to speak to me and once Eddie is secure all three of us rejoin Morris in the interview room.
“Mr. Morris, we’re going to hold Mr. Wells overnight and will push to get him in front of a judge tomorrow. Given the seriousness of the offences, we will be opposing bail, but I’m sure you know that already.”
Morris nods and asks about Joanna. “I’m not sure that she’s going to be as cooperative as Mr. Wells, but if it helps I could call her and ask her to come here willingly. I’m sure she would consider that preferable to being dragged in by the police.”
“Please, go ahead and call her,” I tell him.
We all step out of the room to allow him to make the call and after a few minutes, he calls us back in. His hand is over the phone, so that Joanna can’t hear him speaking.
“I’ve just briefly explained to her what has happened during her husband’s interview. She completely denies any involvement, but she is willing to cooperate.”
“So, she’s coming here?” I ask.
“Not exactly, Detective Sergeant. She would like to speak with you first.”
Morris hands me the phone and I put it to my ear.
“Ms. Partington-Brown, this is DS McMillan, I understand that you want to speak to me. I’m at Spalding Central station. Come here and tell us your side of the story.”
“I would prefer for you to come here, Sergeant. I want you to take me in,” Joanna says.
“Okay, let me send a car for you. It can be there in …”
“No, I don’t want a car. I want you personally to come and take me in. If you agree to that, I will cooperate fully.”
“Okay, agreed. We can be there in just over an hour. Is that okay?”
“Yes, I’ll be
waiting for you. Only you should come in, though. Your partner must wait outside.”
I agree to the request and hand back the phone to Morris.
“I suggest that you take a break, Mr. Morris. Joanna has asked me to personally bring her in, but it’s at least a two-hour round trip. Make yourself comfortable in the canteen. We’ll call you when we are back.
Morris leaves and I relay the rest of the conversation to Catherine and DI Miller.
“There is no way you are going on your own, boss. The shotgun that injured Ben Pinto is still unaccounted for and a house like that is probably filled with guns. This has to be a trap.”
“I know that, Cath. You can come with me, but you need to wait outside until I call you in. She was insistent on that point. DI Miller can back us up with an armed response team. Sir, you can follow us in and then hold at the entrance to the estate. I don’t want to spook her needlessly.”
Miller agrees to my suggestion and twenty minutes later we are thundering down the motorway towards Colevale.
At just after seven-forty in the evening, we drive through the gates of Colevale Manor leaving DI Miller and his team outside to await my instructions. The upper floors of the house are in darkness, but the lower floor and the garden are fully illuminated. The front door is wide open.
“Boss, you really shouldn’t be doing this,” Catherine warns me. “That bitch is dangerous – and you’re not armed. Send the armed response team in first.”
“You worry too much, Cath. I’ve got my vest and my truncheon. What more could a British bobby ask for?”
In truth, I’m as concerned as Cath is, but the alternative is an armed stand-off. I know that Joanna will not come in without a fight if the uniformed boys show up for her.
If there is a chance to take her in peacefully, then it’s a chance worth taking.
“Just go carefully, Sean. If anything doesn’t seem right, get your ass out of there and call for the cavalry.”
I thank Cath and then I walk towards the steps to the house. I cautiously enter, but I know already where she will be. Just outside the study, I announce my arrival.
“Ms. Partington-Brown, it’s Detective Sergeant McMillan, may I come in?”