by Alex Pine
‘That’s something we need to establish,’ James said. ‘So my first question is: did you purchase that card at the village store?’
She pushed out her bottom lip. ‘Of course I did. Where else would I have got it? They had loads in.’
‘And how many did you buy?’
‘Only one pack. That was enough for me. I still haven’t posted the rest.’
‘And do you know of anyone else who bought those same cards?’
‘Well, I know that old Ron did because he gave one to me when I was last over at his house.’
‘Do you mean Daniel’s dad?’
She nodded. ‘I’m one of his carers, as you know.’
James felt a flutter in his stomach. ‘So where is this card?’
Janet shrugged. ‘In the lounge. Go and see for yourself. It’s on the sideboard with the others.’
Seconds later James was holding the card in his hands. It was indeed the same design as the others, but the writing inside was very different from the killer’s scrawl. And just as with the card that Janet gave to Annie, the message inside was benign.
Merry Christmas Jan
Thanks for looking after me and for sharing all the gossip. It keeps me going
Ron x
James saw no point in wasting any more time on Janet Dyer.
‘You need to pull your finger out, Detective Walker,’ DCI Tanner said. ‘This is not good enough. I’m getting grief from all sides now. The Chief Constable, the local MP, the media. And I’ll soon be going into another press conference where I’ll have to admit we’ve made hardly any progress.’
It was the first bollocking James had received from a superior officer since coming to Cumbria. It was tame in comparison to some he’d had in the Met, but it still jarred.
Tanner was responding to what James had told him about how they were going with the investigation. The DCI had called him soon after he returned from Janet Dyer’s house.
‘With Daniel Curtis and Andrew Sullivan no longer in the frame we’re desperately short of suspects,’ Tanner said, stating the obvious. ‘And I’m nervous about hounding Giles Keegan. I know the guy well and it’s inconceivable that he’d do something like this. Plus, he still has plenty of friends in the constabulary.’
‘I’m not hounding him, sir,’ James said. ‘He was trying to start a relationship with our second victim and he may well have been the last person to have seen her alive. He’s also—’
‘I don’t believe that should count against him,’ Tanner interrupted. ‘And neither should the fact that he allegedly had a moan about perps escaping justice and claimed that some people living in the village should be banged up. Isn’t that the kind of thing most of us coppers say when we’re frustrated, angry and upset?’
‘I accept that, sir, but I still intend to have another conversation with him. I’ve got this feeling that he’s not being entirely up front with us.’
‘That’s your call and I won’t stop you. But tread softly. Keegan knows the rules of play better than anyone and I don’t want this blowing up in our faces.’
‘I assure you it won’t, sir,’ James said.
After a pause, Tanner said, ‘So where do we go from here?’
‘We need to think about mounting a door-to-door across the entire village,’ James said. ‘Canvas as many people as we can. I find it hard to believe that the killer has been moving around unseen or that no one has noticed something out of kilter. And to make it harder for him to strike again we could have more overnight patrols and perhaps even put a curfew in place.’
‘Steady on, Detective. You need to appreciate that, unlike in London, we don’t have unlimited people and resources to draw on. And even for a high-priority case like this I’m not sure it would be right to impose a curfew. It’ll have to be managed, and even in a village the size of Kirkby Abbey that would be hugely problematic. And let’s not forget that we’re preparing for the blizzards that are about to smash into this part of the country. You may not realise it because you haven’t been with us long, but they put a huge strain on manpower.’
‘But what if there’s another murder, sir?’ James said.
‘Well, that’s why you’re there, Detective – to make sure there isn’t. Find our killer and stop him running rings around us. In the meantime, I’ll reassess the staff situation, and if I can beef up numbers on the team I will. That’s a promise.’
James came away from the conversation only slightly reassured. But he wasn’t going to let that distract him from what had to be done. After all, Tanner’s reaction hadn’t come as a great surprise. The longer the case went on, the more the pressure on him would grow.
And James did appreciate the points he had raised. The number of officers and amount of resources to commit to an investigation always become an issue at some point in the process for every force in the country. Tanner had been right to point out that imposing a controversial measure such as a curfew could create all kinds of problems. One would be the question of how long to leave it in place. Another would be what penalty to impose on those who flouted it.
The day was slipping away at a rate of knots so James decided to hold another briefing. This time he got someone to set up a video link with the team in Kendal.
There was a lot to discuss and he began by asking DS Stevens what progress they had made at their end.
‘I can tell you that we’ve heard back from the handwriting expert who was asked to analyse the messages in the Christmas cards,’ he said. ‘He’s adamant that they were all written by the same person. We already assumed that, but at least this provides confirmation.
‘We’ve also been in contact with our colleagues in Hampshire. They’ve spoken to the parents of the young woman who Lorna Manning knocked down and killed. They were shown a copy of her confession and were naturally shocked and livid. They insist they knew nothing about it and had never heard of the woman. The couple also have a cast-iron alibi for Sunday night.’
James then passed on feedback from the officers who were talking again to Lorna’s neighbours in Willow Road – so far they’d drawn a blank and no one had given them any new information – and mentioned that Lorna’s son had checked into a room at one of the village pubs, having been in to the command centre to make a statement about the last conversation he had with his mother.
‘As a result of what he told us I will be speaking to Giles Keegan again.’ James pointed to Inspector Boyd and added, ‘Let me know once we’ve been granted access to his phone records and those of Keith Patel, who remains a person of interest.’
The briefing then turned into a brainstorming session that lasted a further hour. James noted down all the points and suggestions, and these helped him to decide what to do the following day. One of the tasks would be to draw up a list of all the parents with children at the school. They would check to see if any of them had fallen out with the headmistress or had links with Charlie Jenkins.
Following the briefing, the three detectives who had come to Kirkby Abbey were told to return in the morning, and to allow themselves plenty of time to get here in case the weather made travelling difficult.
DC Abbott surprised James by saying she had come prepared and had made a reservation at one of the three bed and breakfast establishments in the village.
‘I cleared it first with DS Stevens,’ she said. ‘I live in Staveley and I don’t want to risk being stuck there if it turns really bad.’
‘Good thinking,’ James said. He then turned to Inspector Boyd and asked how many uniforms would be on duty in the village overnight.
‘Five late shifters are due to arrive in the next hour, replacing those who’ve been here all day,’ the inspector answered. ‘We’ll also have two patrol cars.’
It was 5 p.m. by the time they were through and it coincided with the start of the latest press conference being held in Penrith.
DCI Tanner was fronting it once again and was given a pretty hard time by the hacks. He pointed out that they
were only three days into the investigation and everything possible was being done to find the murderer.
‘A team of officers will once again be located in Kirkby Abbey throughout the night,’ he said. ‘They are there to offer protection to the villagers and to ensure that the enquiries continue twenty-four-seven.’
BBC News then cut to their reporter in the village, who said that most residents were staying in their homes because they were too afraid to venture out. He did a piece to camera in front of the village hall.
‘The police team, led by Detective Inspector James Walker, have taken over this hall and turned it into a mini incident room,’ he said. ‘This morning a number of villagers came here demanding to know more about what is going on. There’s huge concern that more murders will be committed and they say the police have been unable to allay their fears.’
When the report ended, James took part in another conference call with Tanner and Stevens, but nothing new came out of it. Following that, he and DC Abbott set off for Giles Keegan’s house in a patrol car, only to find that the guy wasn’t in. James rang his mobile but there was no answer.
‘We’ll try again tomorrow,’ he said to Abbott. ‘I have to go home now anyway so you may as well check into your B&B and try to get a good night’s sleep. Shall we drop you off there?’
‘I have to pick my own car up from outside the hall,’ she said. ‘My overnight bag is in the boot.’
James told the driver to drop him off at home first and on the way there, Abbott said, ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, guv. When we arrived at Janet Dyer’s house, she thought we were going to talk to her about something that happened between Daniel Curtis and your wife, Annie. Is it something that I need to be across?’
James caught the eye of the driver in the rear-view mirror and decided it wouldn’t be fair on Annie to say anything in front of him.
‘It’s nothing important,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Trust me, it has no relevance whatsoever to the case.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
The smell of something cooking greeted James as he entered the house.
Annie called out to say that she was in the kitchen preparing dinner. It was almost six so he half expected to see her uncle with her. But she was alone, stirring what smelled like his favourite chicken stew in a saucepan.
‘How are you, hon?’ he said.
She let go of the wooden spoon, turned and walked straight into his arms.
‘I’m glad you’re home at last,’ she said as he pulled her close. ‘It’s been a long day. I was tempted to ring you a couple of times just for a chat, but I didn’t because I knew you’d be busy.’
‘It wouldn’t have been a problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll always find time to talk to you.’
She squeezed him back. ‘Bill is on his way over, in case you’re wondering. I rang him half an hour ago and he said he hadn’t forgotten and was getting ready.’
He let go of her and stepped back. ‘Has he said or done anything else that’s given you cause for concern?’
‘No, but then I haven’t seen him. He told me he’d been for a walk, had lunch at The King’s Head, and then watched television in his room for most of the afternoon.’
‘I hope he doesn’t realise that we’ve asked him here so that I can give him a grilling.’
‘I’m sure he won’t, so long as you don’t make it obvious.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
She turned back to the oven and continued to stir the stew.
‘I just watched the news,’ she said. ‘They made it sound like you’re not getting anywhere with the investigation. Is that really the case or are you holding stuff back from the media?’
‘It’s true, I’m afraid, hon. Progress is slow. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy. I spoke to Lorna Manning’s son today as well as Janet Dyer and Sonia Jenkins. Let me pour us each a glass of wine and I’ll bring you up to date before your uncle gets here.’
Wine poured, they sat down together.
‘You’ll be glad to hear that Janet Dyer is no longer a suspect. The card she gave you was in a batch she bought in the store,’ he said. ‘She even received one of those same cards herself from Ron Curtis. The problem is the store has sold quite a few of them so they’re all over the village. In fact, Sonia Jenkins also had one put through her door, but the message inside claimed her husband was a bad man and deserved to die.’
Annie snapped her head towards him. ‘Oh God, does that mean it was from the killer?’
He nodded. ‘Almost certainly. I’ve sent it to be analysed.’
‘But I don’t get it. Why keep sending out those same stupid cards? What’s the point?’
‘That’s the million-dollar question,’ James said. ‘It could be any one of a number of reasons. He likes playing games, he wants to generate as much fear and confusion as he can, or he just wants to draw attention to what he’s doing. It could also be that The Twelve Days of Christmas carol holds a special significance for him. Maybe that’s why he’s intending to target twelve people.’
‘If his aim is to get inside our heads he’s certainly succeeding,’ Annie said, her voice shrill. ‘He’s ramping up the fear factor by the hour. And that’s before the rest of the villagers get to know about the cards and the threats.’
‘That might not be long in coming,’ James said, before going on to tell her about the card that was sent to Gordon Carver.
‘I’ve persuaded him not to rush into print with it, but he won’t hold off for long and we can’t make him. Once it’s out there it’ll be a game changer for me and for the villagers.’
James watched the blood drain from her cheeks. It was one of the reasons he didn’t like to tell her too much. She became increasingly anxious with every piece of information he shared.
In a bid to strike a positive note he told her that Andrew Sullivan’s alibi checked out and that Daniel Curtis was in Kendal when Charlie Jenkins was murdered.
She took a moment to respond and did so after taking a deep breath.
‘I need to tell you something about Daniel,’ she said. ‘He approached me in the street today while I was walking to the garage.’
James felt his hackles rise. ‘I told the bastard to stay away from you.’
‘Well, he didn’t. He denied that he had been following me, but I’m convinced he was lying.’
‘So, what did he say?’
‘He asked me if it was true that I’d aborted his baby. I said it wasn’t and told him to fuck off.’
‘And did he?’
Annie nodded. ‘Not straight away. He wanted to talk but I wouldn’t be drawn.’
James was furious. ‘I’ll go and see him. I should have known he wouldn’t let it rest until he’d spoken to you.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t, love. Leave it now. Please. Hopefully he’ll shut up about it.’
James wasn’t happy but he knew she was probably right.
‘Okay, but are you sure he didn’t follow you after that encounter?’
‘I’m positive. But I did actually see him again. He was in the village square having what looked like a stand-up row with Giles Keegan.’
‘But I told Keegan to steer clear of Daniel. That obviously fell on deaf ears.’
‘Do you have any idea what it would have been about?’
James nodded. ‘Keegan thinks Daniel could have been stalking Lorna, and that he might even have killed her.’
‘But why would he think that?’
‘As you know, Daniel was hanging around outside the school on Friday evening. When Giles saw him there, he confronted him because he suspected he was waiting to eye up the kids as they came out. But while he was being questioned by me about Lorna it suddenly occurred to him that Daniel might have been waiting there for her to appear. I didn’t tell him that Daniel told me he was actually waiting to see you.’
Annie’s lips started to form a question just as the doorbell rang.
‘Th
at’ll be your uncle,’ James said. ‘We’ll talk again later.’
Eighteen months had passed since James last saw Bill Cardwell. In that time the man had aged considerably. His face was heavily lined, the eyes dull and ringed with fatigue.
‘Hi there, Bill,’ he said, shaking his hand.
Bill tipped his head forward. ‘Hello, James. It’s been too long, mate, and that’s all down to me. I got myself in a right state after Sis’s funeral and I couldn’t drag myself out of it. I hope you don’t bear a grudge.’
‘Of course not.’
‘Good. And meanwhile I’m glad to see you’re looking so well.’
‘You look good too, Bill.’
Bill laughed. ‘It’s kind of you to say so, James, but I know it’s not true. I look like shit and that’s exactly how I feel. But I’m sure Annie’s stew will cheer me up.’
The stew was, as usual, cooked to perfection, and Annie’s uncle seemed to appreciate it as much as James did.
‘That was delicious, Annie,’ Bill said. ‘You take after your mum when it comes to cooking. She made stews to die for.’
The three of them sat at the table for the best part of an hour, and it was much less awkward than James had feared it would be. Bill seemed completely relaxed and showed no hesitation in answering all the questions that were put to him.
James did his best to make it seem like a conversation rather than an interrogation. Bill’s responses to the questions were short and sharp. No, he had never met Lorna Manning. Yes, he had known Charlie Jenkins, but not very well. No, he didn’t have a clue who might have murdered them. Yes, he often went out walking at night because it helped him to sleep when his head eventually hit the pillow. And so on …
James even showed Bill the Twelve Days of Christmas card from Janet to see how he’d react. But all he did was smile and tell them he thought it was a nice picture.
James had been hoping that by the end of the meal he’d have convinced himself that Bill wasn’t the killer. But unfortunately, that turned out not to be the case. A nagging doubt remained, primarily because it seemed that Bill was keeping something from them. It was a vibe he got from the man’s demeanour and the way he struggled to articulate his thoughts.