Detectives Merry & Neal Books 1-3

by JANICE FROST

  The way Zak had reacted to Bran mystified her. True, it had just been the two of them for a long time, but Zak himself had recently suggested that she try Internet dating. Olivia suspected that his friend, Rowan Pine, had been behind that particular idea. Still, it had pleased her to think that Zak would be amenable to having a man around the house. As long as it wasn’t Bran, it seemed. When she had questioned him about it, Zak had clammed up. He had muttered a kind of apology the following morning and said that he didn’t think Bran was the right sort of person for her. This had made Oliva smile. She wondered what kind of man her son had in mind. Someone like Bran, she would have thought, until the outburst. She hoped Zak could be persuaded to come round. She couldn’t imagine having a relationship with someone her son disliked, but then again, she could not allow Zak to dictate her choice of partner. She sighed. Bringing up a child was a challenging business, and bringing up a child alone even more so. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else to share the responsibility! But not just any old someone. Olivia was falling in love.

  The realisation had crept up on her gradually. She recalled her first encounter with Faye Wellings’s big, ginger-bearded colleague. She had been intimidated by his sheer bulk and had even taken a step back, as if she’d seen a large, hairy animal. Bran later told her he was used to reactions like this. “By the time I turned fifteen I was over six feet tall and my teachers looked nervous when I walked into the classroom. Everyone called me Hägar, as in the Horrible.”

  As she turned the car towards Bran’s place, she caught sight of Rhona Pine waving to her from her car parked up outside the village hall. Olivia pulled up alongside her.

  “Have you got a minute?” Rhona asked, her hand on the door handle. Before Olivia could reply, she slid into the passenger seat beside her. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” Rhona didn’t seem to notice Olivia’s glance at her watch. They’d last spoken a few days ago at Hammond Bell’s birthday party in the village hall. Rhona had winked at her, whispering, “That Bran’s a real hunk.”

  But now Rhona had other things on her mind. “We had a visit from the police the other day, asking if Rowan had been out in the middle of the night — the night of the murder. They said your neighbour claimed to have heard Zak and a girl in the lane outside her cottage. We told them it was rubbish, of course. There’s no way our kids would be able to slip out at that time of night without us knowing.” She looked at Olivia, and added, “Is there?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Of course not.” She couldn’t resist a gentle probe. “It must be hard on you and David, all this. You knew the man who died, didn’t you?”

  Rhona fiddled with the fringe of her scarf. “He was a friend of David’s when they were at the art college in Stromford, but we hadn’t seen or heard from him in years. Now half the village probably thinks we bumped him off.” Her voice had a bitter edge to it.

  Olivia, who had been thinking just that, said, “Of course they don’t, Rhona.” Rhona gave a thin smile and reached for the car door as Laura said, “That was his wife — widow I mean, who was with you at Ham’s birthday party the other night, wasn’t it?”

  “Laura, yes. She and I were good friends years ago so I invited her to stay while the police investigate her husband’s murder. I talked her into going to the party.”

  “It was a good night, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Kind of overshadowed by events for us, though.”

  “Oh, yes. Sorry, Rhona.” She felt embarrassed by her lack of tact. “By the way, how are Rowan’s nightmares?”

  “She’s been having them every night since it happened. I’m a bit concerned. Her teachers mentioned she’s been upset at school too.” She shrugged. “I suppose it’s a passing phase. How’s Zak? He hasn’t been over much lately.”

  “Zak’s fine. Showing signs of becoming a stroppy teenager already.” She didn’t mention Zak’s outburst over Bran. Everybody probably knew by now that she and Bran Gallaher were an item, but she didn’t feel like discussing it with Rhona Pine. Especially since every moment she spent with Rhona meant less time with Bran. She admonished herself for poking her nose into Rhona’s business when she had no wish to share her own.

  “I won’t keep you any longer,” Rhona said. “I just wanted to know if you were of the same mind as us on that business with the police.” She was outside the car now, fiddling with her scarf again. She seemed edgy, jittery almost, but who wouldn’t be in the circumstances? Olivia pulled away from the kerb, conscious of Rhona watching her from the pavement. Just before turning at the junction, she glanced in her rear-view mirror and saw Rhona still standing where she’d left her. She wondered if she should suggest to Zak that he see less of Rowan Pine. The Pines couldn’t be discounted as suspects. Who else in the village could have a motive for killing him? The Pines were the only people who knew him. Ham had told Faye Wellings that whoever carried out the raid on Ridgeway Farm might have killed Ewan Cameron. Olivia shuddered at the thought of a killer in their midst.

  Chapter 13

  “Whichever way you look at it, it wasn’t a rigorous investigation,” Ava said.

  Neal couldn’t disagree with that. It depressed him to think that officers he knew, colleagues, had done such shoddy work. If it made him depressed, it made Ava livid.

  “It’s shameful, that’s what it is!”

  He sensed that Ava’s anger was directed at DI Saunders. As if she’d needed any more cause to dislike him. Neal wasn’t a fan of Saunders either. He’d worked a couple of cases with him before Ava’s time and found him to be sloppy and untrustworthy. Not the sort of person you’d trust to have your back in a crisis.

  He nodded. “Reg is old school.” Reg was also clever. He knew how far to push it. The report in front of Neal showed a deplorable lack of good judgement and respect for others as well as a lack of thoroughness, yet it couldn’t be called corrupt. Saunders had got away with it.

  Ava was still sounding off. “I know Reg Saunders wasn’t the SIO on the case, sir, but even so, he could have done a better job.” She threw her hands in the air. “He might as well have said she deserved whatever happened to her.”

  Neal let her finish her rant, then he said, “All right, Sergeant. You’re preaching to the converted, you know.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. We should reopen the case, sir. No one ever found out what happened to Stephanie. And she had a daughter. Goodness only knows what happened to her.”

  “The report tells us what happened to her. She went to live with her mother’s cousin, a pharmacist in Pippinham.”

  On his first case with Ava, Neal had learned that she was passionate about injustice or violence against women, and sexual violence in particular. She’d never confided the reason and he hadn’t asked, piecing together the meagre scraps of information she let slip about her past life. She had dropped out of university, and Neal suspected something had happened there that caused her to abandon her studies. He hoped she would tell him when she was ready, but Neal appreciated that might never happen.

  Neal also recognised that Ava’s eagerness to reopen the case was not only based on her outrage at the shoddy way it was handled. They both knew that it might have direct relevance to Ewan Cameron’s murder. “There are questions that need answers,” he said softly.

  Ava closed her eyes for a moment. “Maybe the real reason for Pine and Cameron’s tiff had something to do with Stephanie.”

  Neal picked up his phone. “Reg, do you think you could come down to my office for a minute? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you concerning the Cameron case. Okay. See you in ten.” He turned to Ava. “Keep your cool and let me do the talking. Agreed?”

  Ava took a couple of deep breaths. “Of course, sir.”

  Neal and Ava discussed the case. There were few suspects.

  “David and Rhona Pine, obviously,” Ava said. “They wouldn’t be the first husband and wife to give each other a false alibi. Pine and Cameron were best mates and shared a flat t
ogether after their first year at college.”

  Neal nodded. “What else?”

  “Not a lot so far. PJ’s managed to track down some of their fellow students at the time, but although some of them remember Pine and Cameron they don’t have much to say about them. No scandals, unfortunately, so there’s nothing for us to run with. And no one seems to remember Stephanie. She wasn’t a student so it’s unlikely they would, I suppose.”

  “Hmm. Laura Cameron said her husband was a bit of a loner at home in Edinburgh. She did mention that he disappeared for days at a time. It’s possible he had a problem with drugs or alcohol. I’ve been in touch with the local police and asked them to look into that for me.” He scribbled a reminder to himself. “We need to trace Stephanie’s daughter, of course. I don’t see why she’d have a grievance against Ewan Cameron, but we can’t rule out her involvement.”

  “So our suspect list consists of David and Rhona Pine — the thieves who made off with a stash of chemicals — and a nineteen-year-old girl who’s probably never even heard of Ewan Cameron,” Ava said, glibly. “Of course we could include Zak Darby and Rowan Pine as they were allegedly roaming about on the night of the murder. And what about the whole rest of Stainholme village while we’re at it?”

  Neal’s smile was forced. At that moment, Saunders finally made his appearance. Neal greeted him and Ava and Saunders exchanged perfunctory nods.

  Neal noted that Saunders’s eye had gone straight to the file open on his desk.

  “Ah, I see you’ve been reviewing the Woodson case. Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?”

  Neal nodded.

  “Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree with that one, Jim. It has nothing to do with the present investigation.”

  “Well, there is a common element,” Neal commented dryly.

  For some reason, Saunders looked at Ava before turning his gaze to Neal. “Ewan Cameron?”

  “And David Pine. They were both questioned after Stephanie Woodson’s disappearance. Along with this . . .” Neal rifled through the pages of the document. “Gabriel North. Why didn’t you mention any of this before, Reg?”

  “Like I said, it’s not relevant. It’s bloody obvious that Cameron was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got in the way of the Ridgeway Farm robbery. That’s what should be the focus of this investigation, not an old case involving some missing slag who probably ran off to escape the responsibility of bringing up a kid on her own.”

  Neal didn’t need to see how Ava responded to this. “Nevertheless,” he said, “Stephanie Woodson’s disappearance cannot be discounted as a significant element in the Cameron enquiry. Surely you can see that?”

  Saunders gave an exaggerated sigh.

  “The notes state that Stephanie’s disappearance was reported by Gabriel North, who was babysitting for her the night she didn’t come home. She told him she was meeting a female friend. The name she gave North turned out to be false,” Neal said.

  “He’d only just met her. He was a naïve kid from a nice background, ten years her junior. Steph was a looker. He probably thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she showed an interest in him. All she wanted was a free babysitter.”

  “North was your main suspect?”

  “That’s right. Claimed he was at home with the kid all night. We only had his word for it that Steph went out that evening. She wasn’t seen anywhere around town.”

  “So she’d invented a story about seeing a female friend who didn’t actually exist. North seemed to think that she was with Cameron and Pine. Why was that?”

  Saunders shrugged. “Who knows? He claimed he’d seen Cameron talking with Steph earlier in the day and jumped to conclusions. We spoke with Pine and Cameron and they had an alibi. They were home all evening with Pine’s then girlfriend, the future Mrs Pine.”

  “There’s no mention anywhere of a warrant to search their flat,” Neal said.

  “It wasn’t considered necessary. It was obvious the kids were telling the truth. There wasn’t a scrap of evidence to link them to her. All we had were North’s suspicions.”

  “Stephanie’s daughter was eight years old at the time. Was she able to provide any information about North being with her that night?”

  “She remembered him reading her a bedtime story. Nothing else. Except waking up the next morning and asking where her mother was. North was there when she woke up but he could easily have slipped out in the night when she was asleep. Or killed Steph in her own home for that matter. Remember we only have his word for it that Steph went out with a friend. He could have been with her, or she could have gone out earlier and returned to her place after North put the kid to bed.”

  Neal frowned. “Forensics found nothing amiss in Stephanie Woodson’s home. If she came to harm, it’s unlikely to have been there unless her killer was very, very careful.”

  “There’s no evidence she came to any harm. If you ask me, she just got tired of the kid and fucked off.” Saunders turned to Ava, “Pardon my French. She was behind with her rent, too.” He looked at Neal. “Steph Woodson was probably on the game. Women like her disappear all the time, Jim, that’s the truth of it. A lot of the time no one even misses them.”

  Neal gathered that, in Reg Saunders’s book, ‘women like her’ weren’t worth missing.

  “She had a daughter,” Ava said. “I expect she missed her mother.”

  “Yeah, well. I reckon the kid was better off without a mother like that.”

  Before Ava could reply, Neal said, “Ava, find out where Tess Woodson is now and arrange for us to talk to her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ava hesitated, but Neal wasn’t dismissing her. Turning to Saunders, he said, “Thanks, Reg. We’ll take it from here. Keep us up to speed on your enquiries into the farm robbery.”

  Saunders grunted, plainly riled at Neal’s refusal to forget the Stephanie Woodson investigation. “Re-examine the case all you like, but you won’t find anything in there to account for Cameron’s murder. Waste of time if you ask me.” He went out, slamming the door.

  “Just as well we’re not asking you,” Neal muttered. He seldom made remarks like this in front of a junior officer. He was annoyed with himself, but the sight of Ava’s beaming smile was worth it.

  “I’ll get right on that, sir,” she said.

  Neal called her back. “How is your brother?” he asked.

  Ava looked surprised. “He’s good, sir.”

  “And his friend, the one who helped with the Gray Mitchell case?”

  “George? He’s good too, sir. Leon Warrior’s kind of taken him under his wing. I think he felt he owed it to his partner. Apparently he’s thinking of volunteering at a shelter for gay kids. Gray would have been pleased.”

  “Thank Ollie and his friend for me, will you, Ava? I got so swept up in all the business with Maggie I forgot to mention it.”

  “That’s understandable. How is Maggie?”

  “Getting there, as my old mum would have said,” Neal said.

  “I’d be happy to have a drink with her sometime. You know, give her a chance to talk about it, if you think that’d help.”

  “I think she’d like that. I know she doesn’t want to talk about it with her friends, but I think she’d open up to you. Considering you all but saved her life.”

  “The paramedics saved her life.”

  Neal nodded. He began shuffling the documents from the file. He wasn’t very good at small talk and though he didn’t want Ava to leave, he could think of nothing more to say to keep her in the room.

  “Right then, I’ll get on,” Ava said. “You’ve got my contact details.”

  Neal looked up, startled.

  “For Maggie,” Ava clarified.

  “Ah, yes. I’ll let her know and leave it up to her to call you.”

  Chapter 14

  Laura met Gabe North outside the cathedral. They walked to a residential street in the Uphill area. North lived in a semi-detached house with a
square bay window, its red wooden door half-hidden behind an overgrown conifer. He showed Laura into a sitting room overlooking a long garden and asked if she would like a drink. While he was in the kitchen preparing coffee, there was a knock at the door and a moment later, Laura heard the sound of hushed voices in the hallway.

  Gabe came into the room, accompanied by a brittle-looking young woman. “Laura, I’d like you to meet—”

  “Tess Woodson.” Laura completed the introduction.

  Tess hovered in the doorway, her face half-concealed behind wisps of long hair. She looked self-conscious. Laura’s directness had clearly unnerved her, and Laura felt instantly sorry for her predicament. It was Gabe she was angry at, not this thin young girl who had been dealt such a poor hand so early in her life.

  “I thought it was time the two of you met,” Gabe said. His expression was uncertain, as hesitant as his young visitor.

  Laura wondered how Tess felt about meeting the wife of the man she probably believed killed her mother. She wanted to tell Tess that Ewan had had nothing to do with Steph’s disappearance. The trouble was that she was no longer sure. She said nothing and Tess too was silent.

  Gabe muttered something about coffee and steered Tess to an armchair. Then he retreated from the room. Perhaps he thought the two of them would have a lot to talk about.

  To fill the awkward silence, Laura asked, “Do you remember my husband, Tess?”

  The girl shook her head. She was sitting with her back to the French window, the stark winter garden a fitting backdrop to her air of misery. The feeble light from outside threw a shadow across her face and Laura shivered. She felt as though she was looking at a ghost. In a way she was, for this fragile girl was probably all that was left of Steph.

  Gabe returned and handed each of them a mug of coffee.

  “I’m sorry for springing Tess on you without warning, Laura. I just thought you might feel more engaged if you met her.” He turned to Tess. “As I said, Laura never met your mother and her husband never told her that he knew her. This is all new to her, too. Laura, I know we’re asking a lot of you. I understand that the shock of your husband’s death is still raw. I can only guess what pain my interference and suspicions must be causing you.”