“You seem a bit worried sir, are you feeling up to answering some questions?”
“I’m fine, Detective; it’s been a long day. We are all worried about Peggy. She’s never been missing before.”
“I hear you spoke to her and one of her sons this morning? That makes you the last person to see Peggy.”
Liam reddened, his body language spoke volumes. “I suppose I must have been,” he stuttered.
“Do you think she has wandered off and got lost?” asked the detective never taking his eyes from the edgy man who remained motionless and silent as if struck dumb by fear.
“Sir,” continued the detective, “I have to remind you that this is a serious enquiry. A vulnerable woman is missing; she could have wandered off and got herself lost. We have to find her. If you can shed any light on her disappearance, please help us here. The staff are upset, they are frantic with worry, and you can see that for yourself. Her sons are not answering their mobiles. It seems a bit strange to me that all three are unobtainable at the same time. I have a feeling, Liam, that you know more than you are telling me. Am I correct in my assumption that you are hiding vital information?”
Unable to stand the strain any longer, Liam wiped his sweaty palms on his gardening overall, cleared his throat which seemed as rough as sandpaper and told the detective all he knew of Peggy Bryson’s disappearance. He did not know of her whereabouts.
“They didn’t tell me where they were taking her, and I didn’t ask. I should never have got involved in this, but they were desperate men. They didn’t want their mother moved from GWR. I didn’t think I was doing any harm to anyone.”
The immediate search was called off. Staff were informed that Peggy’s sons had removed her to a place of safety, and that no further search of the care home was necessary. Staff were astounded to hear of their trusted gardener’s involvement. He was taken to police headquarters for further interview. Although he was not the principal offender, he was liable under law to be charged with an offence.
While Liam was being interviewed, Senior Nurse Lydia was ending the conversation with Alex Bryson. She rushed to the interview room to relate events to the detective only to discover the gardener’s involvement in Peggy’s disappearance.
“Thank God she is safe. That’s what matters most at the moment. We can deal with everything else later.”
Relieved care staff who had held on to help search for Peggy began leaving for home, having been thanked by senior staff for their time and concern for one of their most loved residents. Among them was Sam who had donned her bike gear ready for a spin in the countryside. One of the young police officers, an avid bike fan, chatted with her as only people with a similar passion can do. Together they examined the vehicle. Sam opened the pannier to show the storage space and found the envelope deposited earlier by the gardener.
“What’s this?” she gasped as she spotted the contents.
Resuming immediate police mode the officer took charge of the situation. A quick glance told him there were several hundred pounds in the grubby envelope.
“Can you account for this cash, ma’am? It seems a lot to carry around.”
A flummoxed Sam seeing the rapid change in him, one moment taking on the role of a fellow bike enthusiast, now that of a suspicious policeman, retorted sharply, “Well, I assure you it’s not mine. Someone must have put it there. Oh no, not Liam. How could he involve me?” She was spitting mad.
She was asked to return to the house while the eager young officer searched for his superior to relate the find of the cash.
“I just knew, sir, that someone must have colluded with the lady’s sons in this kidnap. I think we have found our source. Incidentally sir, one of the staff told me she saw the gardener chatting to the biker at the time Peggy was being spirited away.”
Knowing the young man’s keenness to solve the world’s crimes, he asked him to slow down with his assumption of guilt.
“Remember your training Constable; gather evidence, question the suspect before you jump to conclusions. The gardener has already confessed to receiving cash and to hiding it in the pannier, not to frame the hairstylist in any way, but in a moment of panic. I’ll talk to her and assure her she is free to go. And, by the way, the elderly lady was not spirited away… curb your enthusiasm. Now I’ll explain things to the hairstylist.”
A rather shamefaced young cop asked Sam to accept his apology for his haste. The look on her face told him that if he wasn’t an officer of the law he might have been going home with a bruised face.
***
Liam Norris was held in custody overnight and appeared in the morning before the magistrate, Karen Stevenson, a wise and perceptive woman who had a reputation for fairness beneath her severe facade. She glanced down at him, fixing a stare that would do justice to a rabbit caught in headlights and spoke to the errant man.
“Liam Norris, you have acted irresponsibly in colluding with Joseph Bryson in a foolish act which caused unnecessary worry to the good people at GWR care home, not to mention the time wasted spent looking for the missing resident, time which was needed to tend to others in their charge. You are a man of exemplary character, or so I am told, but in a moment of weakness, or greed, you took money from Mr Joseph Bryson. As this is your first appearance in this court I intend to be lenient with you as I can see you have shown remorse and appreciate how your action has affected so many others. I intend making use of your gardening skills and sentence you to 100 hours of community work, where you will be supervised as you tend to gardening projects set for you. What happens now to your future employment I leave in the hands of your employers.”
Next day, the shamed gardener appeared before a discipline committee at GWR. Dora Martin, the owner of the business who oversaw all appointments, interviewing each person who applied for work to ensure they were fully aware of her high standards, headed it.
“It goes without saying, Mr. Norris that I am extremely shocked and bemused at your involvement with Mr. Bryson. I accept that you acted in a rash moment, thinking that a few more pounds would help your retirement plans. The committee agrees with me that to dismiss you at this stage of your working life would be a blot on an otherwise excellent working life, and while we do not condone your actions, we appreciate your years of service here and so will not dismiss you. You will resume work here on Monday.”
Liam Norris’ troubles were not yet over. His wife and family who had accompanied him to the hearing were vocal in their condemnation.
“Dad, how could you embarrass us like that? It’s in the local newspaper. All my friends will know about it, this is awful,” chided Trish his daughter, brows furrowed as she tossed her long chestnut hair in a gesture of defiance.
Son Jon chimed in, “My colleagues at school and the kids I teach will be laughing up their sleeves at me, the supposedly upstanding teacher of religious and moral education. I’ll never live it down.”
Moira, his wife, took his arm and walked alongside him.
“Okay, you two, that’s enough. Leave your father alone. He knows he’s done wrong and is paying for it. Liam, you were a complete fool. Now let’s put this behind us and go home for a nice meal. You have only three months until you retire, so keep your head down and your hands clean.”
“That might prove difficult Mum, since he’s a gardener,” laughed Jon, attempting to diffuse the tense situation.
Still laughing, and feeling suitably chastised and forgiven, Liam linked arms with his family and said, “Now, what about that special dinner?”
CHAPTER 30
Miles from the troubles of Liam Norris and Peggy Bryson’s sons, Brenda Mears, saddened beyond belief at the sudden death of Molly and experiencing a loneliness she had never encountered before, considered a move from her house in Lincoln Park, which had almost become a mausoleum with even more areas closed off and no longer r
equired. Molly’s apartment lay empty and eerily quiet. Nora spurned any suggestion of visiting her former home to deal with her mother’s possessions and requested Brenda send her personal items and dispose of everything else. Her own smaller apartment, once a happy home that she had shared with her fiancé George, remained empty too, as if in mourning for a lost love, a lost promise, and a lost future together. Together with Lucy’s suite of rooms which Brenda had virtually turned into a shrine for her lost child, the mansion stood as if mocking the spirit of its former residents. It was not a comfortable place to reside. Apart from a poignant visit from the detectives with the Bosnian visitors, and that of her loyal executive staff, she seldom entertained anyone. Her depression was deep, her thoughts jumbled, and her heart broken. Even a talk with the elderly Jordan Garnett did not seem to ease her pain. He had called to explain his rather odd behaviour.
“You must have thought me a silly old fool, not knowing about your dear daughter’s abduction. I can’t apologise enough, my dear.”
“Let’s put it all behind us, Mr Garnett. Superintendent Harvey explained to me about the situation. You have enough to worry about now with your own troubles. My aunt has caused pain and sorrow for us both. I for one am glad she has gone to meet her Maker.”
As he hung up, the gentle man whispered to himself, “and so am I.”
She sat on the floor in almost semi-darkness in her father’s office, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork, unable to settle to the task she had always promised she would attend to when she found time. She felt the spirit of her parent as she reflected on the many hours she spent in that room as a child, then as an adult, as her father explained the running of Mears Empire and awakening in her an enthusiasm for business matters which was to become her life’s work and first love. She took a deep breath and began the monumental job of sifting through her father’s meticulous filing system. It was then she came across some personal documents she had never seen before: her parents’ marriage certificate, her own birth details and poignantly, her mother’s death certificate, stating cause of death to be postpartum hemorrhage. I never knew what caused my mother to die just hours after my birth… How sad! She held the paper tightly in her hand for some time as if by doing so she could feel connected to the mother she never knew.This discovery motivated her to investigate more of her family’s medical background. She spent many hours researching records from national archives and was curious to learn more about her maternal ancestors. Anna Leci, in her letter to Lucy, had drawn a veil over her own parents’ death, a mere mention of something sinister. This intrigued Brenda.
Online death certificates for her maternal grandparents revealed their deaths were confirmed as suicide caused by mental illness. Brenda discovered that suicide is the tenth leading cause of death among adults in the USA. Her grandfather had a terminal illness. His wife, mentally incapable of caring for him due to bipolar disorder, wavered in mood swings from manic highs to depression. Life was becoming intolerable for them both. In a lucid moment they made the decision to end their lives together. A shocked housemaid found the couple dead in bed with empty pill bottles nearby.
Brenda found the report disturbing and questioned the possibility of the disorder being the cause of what she termed, ‘Anna’s madness’. She had now some insight into the obsessive protection of Anna towards her young, vulnerable sibling. In her own grief Anna attempted to become both mother and father to the young Francesca. Brenda’s fact-finding led her to some understanding of the need for ongoing research into hereditary bipolar disorder. She was anxious to discover the potential risk, if any, of herself inheriting the disease. She donated a generous sum to research studies. At least, I owe it to Lucy. Perhaps if Anna had been treated for the disorder Lucy would still be alive. Knowing how unusually and highly talented both her mother and Lucy had been, Brenda ruminated over the likelihood that as they were so creative, they too may have manifested some degree of psychotic illness in later life. The dark side of their musical talent, thought Brenda as she continued clearing her vast mansion of unwanted items.
***
Back in Rio at ‘Les’s Bar’ some regular customers perched on wooden stools at the rustic bar and drinking cool beer were pouring over an old discarded newspaper.
“Hey, look at this! It’s our B-J and Fred. They are in the news.”
“What have they gone and done? Let’s have a look and see.”
Some tugging of the newspaper followed before someone took control and began to read, much to the frustration of the others who felt aggrieved.
“Oh man, they’ve just got themselves murdered in that England place they went to visit.”
“Give the paper to Dan,” suggested a drinker. “He can read good, sure you can read good, Dan?”
Dan, in charge of the bar during the owner’s absence, read the newspaper report silently at first, while the others gathered around him waiting as he read every word. They watched as his face changed from concern to bewilderment.
“What does it say then? What happened over there in England?”
Dan looked at his buddies, and with hands shaking, told of the demise of their friends.
“It wasn’t England, it was Scotland, it’s nearby,” said Dan shaking his head as he digested the horror unfolding in front of him.
“Do you guys remember some years ago, a big-shot politician had to stand down from being elected as a presidential nominee because he got found out that he was the pa of that missing kid, Lucy Mears?”
“Sure we do Dan. It was big news and then the kid was killed in an airplane crash,” replied one drinker.
Another chipped in, “Yeah, I remember that. My sister lives in Chicago, it was a big scandal there, and the politician guy came from nearby. Everyone knew him.”
“Hey,” continued Dan, “you guys ready for this? Wow, it turns out that it was our buddies B-J and Fred who killed her, seems like they were involved in the kid’s kidnapping and sabotage of the plane that was bringing her home to her folks. They hotfooted it to Mexico and changed names and appearances then ended up here in Rio. We’ve been served by cold-blooded murderers and to think I took on the responsibility of this crap bar for them, working every hour to make a healthy profit for them.”
“Man, you think you know people,” said a customer. “We’ve sure been fooled. Come to think of it, I asked Fred about them scars on his face, told me he had some plastic work done cos he’d been burnt as a kid but they looked kinda fresh to me.”
Dan continued, “It was a hell of a death they got though; listen to this guys: they were thrown into a sinkhole kind of place, still alive, an old pit shaft it was, filled with water and junk and left to die. It gives me the shivers to think about it.”
“Got all they deserve, that’s my opinion,” commented the guy whose sister lived in Chicago.
“I agree there. They sure did. But that poor kid. How could they do that to a kid?”
Discussions took place over many hours, drinks were consumed in great quantities, no one felt any guilt when Dan declared the drinks were on the house and everyone voiced their opinion as the enormity of the event sunk in.
“Guess it was revenge then for what they did. Someone must have found where they were hiding out over there and finished them off. Strange how they were killed in Scotland. They must have been followed. Kinda weird, ain’t it?”
“Maybe there was a contract put out on them, that’s my take on it,” contributed Dan who by now had relinquished responsibility of running the bar.
The customers of ‘Les’s Bar’ spent many hours pondering and digesting the news of their former friends. Dan, enraged at the whole scenario, announced, “Well, they won’t be coming back here, that’s a cert, so let’s drink up. The drinks are on the house until we empty this bar.”
Some days later a fierce fire engulfed a beach bar in Rio reducing it to ruins.
Mysteriously, no bottles of alcohol were found among the debris.
CHAPTER 31
After the departure of Alex for home, Joe and Bobby Bryson spent a restless night at the beach holiday home. Their mother, unsure of her surroundings, became agitated and did not settle for long. She wandered from room to room as if searching for familiar things, her mind confused by her surroundings. The noise emanating from her was not unlike that of a whimpering puppy. She wrung her hands together as she looked around the strange place.
I can’t find Jimmy anywhere. Where are you Jimmy? Have I been here before? I’m not sure, maybe I should ask these men, and they look kind but why are they in my house? Barry might know, yes I’ll ask Barry.
The boys took it in turns to sit with her in an attempt to soothe her anxiety. While Bobby eventually slept from exhaustion, Joe continued his watch until he too gave way to sleep.
Oh dear, they’ve fallen asleep. I’ll not wake them to ask… what was it I wanted to ask? I hear water, lots of water… I like water…
Peggy managed to open the main door and headed out of the house.
Bobby woke to the noise of holidaymakers beginning their beach activities. Children squealed with delight as the cold sea, as yet to be warmed by the sun, swirled around their feet.
“Mum’s gone! Joe, get up. Mum’s gone! The door is wide open. Oh hell no! Where is she? She had only a flimsy nightdress on and slippers. Joe, wake up, man.”
Bobby was frantic with worry as he shook Joe’s shoulder. Joe slept deeply. Bobby ran from room to room to make sure she wasn’t in a corner or cupboard or had slipped and fallen, all the time yelling at Joe to wake up.
Joe eventually woke with a start at the screaming coming from his brother.
“Not another bloody nightmare Bobby. I can’t sleep for you screaming.”
“Joe, Mum’s gone; get up, she’s gone.”
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