by Wonny Lea
‘He went back to her room, but she wasn’t there or anywhere else in the house and something made him search the outhouses and the old barn – and that was where he found her.’
‘She wasn’t shouting at anyone, and wouldn’t ever be again, because she was hanging from one of the low beams suspended by a series of her belts that she had buckled together. Peter said she had hooked one buckle onto a piece of metal on the beam and used a bale of hay to stand on. She didn’t drop far, as he told us her feet were only inches off the ground and he was easily able to lift her out of the noose she had made and place her on the hay.’
‘He felt the need to tell us every detail and I can only guess at the effort it took as even relating it to you second-hand is distressful. The poor man must have lived and relived that scene and it’s no wonder he felt the need to seek oblivion.’
Both Elsie and her sister looked drained and Martin told them how much he appreciated their cooperation and questioned if they were able to carry on. With a sudden new burst of determination Elsie got to her feet, made a fresh round of coffee, and finished the account of her brother-in-law’s revelations.
‘We asked him why he hadn’t told us then what had happened and he simply said it was just too awful. We all knew that Catherine was planning to leave and so he went along with that scenario. He said he didn’t even have to think about what to do with her body, and that the proposed site of Nuestro Abrigo came straight to his mind. He drove her there and, well, we can all fit together the pieces after that.
‘That’s everything that Peter told us and afterwards he did nothing but apologise and tell Margaret that he had done what he thought was best. He had hoped she would never have to find out but he also knew that without the truth she would never stop searching for her daughter. He didn’t want to leave her with that hopeless legacy.’
Margaret had drunk her coffee and felt able to add to her sister’s words. ‘I know now why Peter got so distressed whenever we were out together and I thought I caught sight of Catherine. I never stopped looking for her and every time my phone rang or the door opened I expected it to be her. I don’t know how I would have dealt with my daughter’s suicide when it happened but I don’t blame my husband for his actions. He thought he was protecting me and couldn’t have known how heavy his secret would weigh on his conscience.’
The thought of her husband living with the constant image of their daughter hanging in the barn was suddenly too much for Margaret and she rushed from the room.
‘Please, go after your sister,’ Martin suggested to Elsie.
‘No, she’s going to be alright. We’ve done nothing but talk all night and we’ve even started making some plans. We are both farmers’ daughters and were brought up to know that life goes on and few things would be worse than what Margaret has endured over the last five years.
‘I hope she will begin to see Manuel as the decent man I have always believed him to be, and that he will bring her grandson here for visits – Margaret would like that.’
Martin could see that Elsie was struggling to keep the lid on her own emotions and said that he and Matt would see themselves out.
‘Don’t be a stranger, Martin. Maybe one day you’ll bring your children here to visit – your aunt would have liked that idea.’
Her words reawakened the thoughts that Martin had been having lately and he smiled inwardly as he considered if it was possible for men to feel broody – surely that was an emotion exclusive to women. As they left the farmhouse he did feel that sometime he would go back there and wondered how Shelley would react if he told her he wanted to be a dad …
Martin’s earlier discussion with Colin Atkinson had given him a great deal of food for thought, and if there were to be significant changes on the career front then why not go the whole hog? He wasn’t getting any younger and he had even got to the point of contemplating marriage when Matt interrupted his thoughts.
He assumed that his boss had been mulling over what had been said and asked about the dreaded paperwork. ‘It’s been one hell of a week and I’m not sure where to start. We’ve had a kidnapping, a murder, and a suicide, and all are related but separate so it’s going to take some sorting before things get passed to the CPS.’
Before Matt could say any more Martin interrupted and asked him to drive.
‘I want to make a call to Spain, and if it’s possible enable Manuel Romanes to stay in Andalucía and be present for the birth of his child. I don’t think he will have left for the airport yet and there’s no rush for us to speak to him now, but I do need to tell him what happened to Catherine.’
Martin zapped the remote of his car and then threw his keys to Matt.
‘How do you think Romanes will take the news?’ Matt asked. ‘He must have had feelings for his wife, even if their marriage did end badly, and there’s the little boy – I wonder what he’ll tell him.’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ responded Martin and after pressing some buttons on his phone spent the next ten minutes talking to Manuel Romanes.
‘My call couldn’t have been better timed from their point of view, as apparently Rachel’s been niggling all night and now looks to be in established labour. I heard her calling her thanks when Manuel told her he wouldn’t be leaving. He was quiet and offered no comment when I told him about Catherine’s suicide and I heard a sharp intake of breath when I explained his father-in-law’s role in the disappearance of her body. Elsie Hopkins is right, he does seem like a decent bloke and expressed his sympathy in relation to Peter and told me he would speak to Margaret immediately.’
‘I still can’t get my head around Peter Washington,’ said Matt. ‘Why the hell didn’t he just raise the alarm when he found his daughter? He wasn’t to blame for it – no one was to blame for it. She was obviously unstable and Simon Davidson’s rejection was the last straw. They would somehow have come to terms with it – instead they have all, including Peter, endured five years of absolute hell.’
Martin made one more phone call, this time to Fiona Davidson. He didn’t go into the level of detail he had with Manuel but he reassured her that her son would not be required to answer questions in relation to the discovery of Catherine’s body and wished her well with the wedding arrangements. As he ended the call he thought about how another man who had once loved Catherine Romanes was now free of her and getting on with his life. In spite of the fact that, from what he had heard, he would have intensely disliked the woman, he was finding a speck of sympathy from somewhere deep down.
‘Still no chance of us dropping in on that wedding reception?’ asked Matt when Martin had finished his call.
Martin didn’t answer and was quiet for some time.
‘I’ve been building up the courage to ask you, guv, but you were so serious after your visit with the chief superintendent that I’m still scared to broach the subject. I know you said you would let us all know our positions as soon as you could and I don’t expect any special treatment but I’m going to ask anyway. Is there anything you can tell me?’
Somewhat mischievously, Martin grinned at his sergeant. ‘I’m amazed you’ve managed to hold off the question so long but I guess we have had other things to think about. You know I can’t share any details of the reorganisation until the agreed time but I will tell you that I am very happy with the proposals for all the members of my current team.
‘As far as your future position is concerned, I believe you will be pleased if not delighted with what’s on offer for you, but for the moment the most I can say is relax, you have nothing to worry about.’
‘Really?’ Matt replied. ‘You’re really pleased for all of us – so why the long face when you came back from your meeting with the chief super?’
The penny suddenly dropped with Matt.
‘Oh God, you’re not happy with what they are planning to offer you! That’s it, isn’t it? I’m so sorry, Martin, we’ve all been fretting so much about our own positions we haven’t given much thou
ght to yours. All of us have been assuming that with your reputation you’ll be OK. Will you be OK?’
‘I don’t know, Matt – I really don’t know.
Cover Picture
On the cover of Money can Kill we see part of St Fagans Castle as viewed from the grounds of the National History Museum, commonly known as St Fagans.
The sixteenth-century manor house and the surrounding land was given to the people of Wales by the Earl of Plymouth and provides the setting for an amazing open-air museum. The gardens and lakes surrounding the castle are spectacular and freely available to the public.
There is no better way for Welsh school children to learn about the history of their country than to walk through the various ages from Celtic times up to the present day and see first-hand how their ancestors worked and played. They will be fascinated to visit the old schoolhouse and learn about how children in Wales more than a hundred years ago were punished if they were caught speaking their native Welsh language.
There are over forty original buildings including a church, a tannery, a farmhouse, and various mills. A row of six cottages enable visitors to see the changes in everyday living between 1805 and 1905. All the buildings have been brought from various parts of Wales and re-erected on the site to give an experience of the Welsh lifestyle, architecture, and culture as it developed.
There is nothing static about St Fagans as throughout the year there are opportunities to see traditional crafts demonstrated and to join in some of the festivals of music and dance. In the fields around the farm visitors will see native breeds of livestock and the endless variety of trees and flowers form natural habitats for birds, insects and small animals.
Whatever you are hoping to achieve from a day out there is something for everyone and visitors to St Fagans tend to return and find something new each time.
The DCI Martin Phelps Series
Wonny Lea
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Money Can Kill
Copyright © Wonny Lea 2012
This edition published by Accent Press 2014
ISBN: 9781783754557
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction. It has been written for entertainment purposes only. All references to characters and countries should be seen in this light. All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.