No Right to Kill

by M A Comley

  “At present, no. We’re conducting enquiries today and then we’ll crack on with the investigation once we’ve collated any useful information together. I hear they spent a lot of time helping out around here, father.”

  “They did. A charming couple who always put others first. That’s why I can’t understand this happening to them. What could be the motive behind someone killing them?”

  “We’re at a loss about that right now. There was no evidence of a forced entry; however, Mr Flowers’ wallet was missing from their home.”

  “Money? Are you telling me that people resort to killing another person just to take the contents of their wallet?”

  Sara nodded. “It looks that way. Although there was a vast sum of money kept at the couple’s house that the intruder wasn’t aware of—unless he or she was aware and got disturbed during the search of the property. However, we didn’t see any signs of the home being ransacked at all.”

  “How odd. It’s unthinkable that two people have lost their lives for the sake of a few pounds. Just unthinkable.”

  “Is your congregation full of regulars, father?”

  “Mostly, yes. Of course, we’ll get the odd person calling in here if they’re on holiday, visiting the area.”

  “Have you noticed any strangers here lately?”

  He bowed his head to ponder the question. “I honestly can’t think of anyone.”

  “Perhaps a homeless person looking for the odd handout?”

  “There’s nothing coming to mind. We don’t tend to get homeless people around here, Inspector. Maybe in the city, but not out here in the sticks.”

  “Which is what I suspected. Do you recall the Flowers getting closer than normal to a member of the congregation?”

  “Not really. All my parishioners are friendly towards each other. I know not every vicar can say the same about their flock, but I can say that with a large amount of confidence.”

  “That’s definitely reassuring for us to hear. Did they ever confide in you about any relatives perhaps?”

  “All the time. May I ask in what context…oh, no, you surely can’t mean that you suspect one of their relatives of doing this?”

  “It’s something that we have to consider, father, although we’ve spent most of the day speaking with the couple’s children, and nothing struck me as odd about any of them.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I hate the thought of one of their children being responsible for their deaths.”

  “In that case, we have no further questions for you, father. May I leave you a card? In the hope that you will ring me if you hear anything on the grapevine, so to speak.”

  “Of course, I’ll call you. Anything I can do to help, you only have to ask.”

  “One last thing before we go. Could you keep an ear to the ground for us? Maybe you’ll overhear something that doesn’t sit well with you.”

  “I don’t do confessions here, if that is what you’re asking, Inspector. This is a Church of England church.”

  “I appreciate that, father. That’s not what I was implying. If you overhear something in general, that’s all.”

  “You have my word on that. Good luck with your investigation.”

  Sara inhaled a weary breath. “Thank you. We’ll take all the luck thrown in our direction. Don’t forget to ring me if you hear anything.”

  “I won’t. Nice to meet you both.”

  “You too, father. Take care of yourself.”

  “You’re very kind. Thank you.”

  Sara’s and Carla’s footsteps echoed around the substantial church as they left.

  Carla shuddered when they reached the car. She peered back over her shoulder and whispered, “Sorry, stupid thing for me to say, but those places give me the creeps.”

  Sara chuckled. “Get in the car.”

  They arrived back at the station to find the rest of the team hard at work. Carla bought two coffees while Sara jotted down the information they had gathered during the course of the day on the whiteboard, which to date, was disappointingly non-existent for such a major crime.

  Carla placed a cup on the desk close to the whiteboard.

  “Thanks, I thought I’d be all coffeed out by now but I’m not. My head is buzzing. Not sure if that’s the start of a headache brewing or what.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go round the rest of the team, see if they’ve managed to locate anything useful that we can work with regarding the family. My guess is they haven’t. I’ll continue noting down all the names on the board. No, wait, before you do that, can you get in touch with the press office? Ask them to arrange a media conference at their earliest convenience. Push for tomorrow if you can. I’d like to get the word circulating about this ASAP.”

  Carla rushed back to her desk. “On it now. Any preference for morning or afternoon?”

  “Not really. Just ask them for the earliest slot they can arrange. I don’t want to delay that side of things if at all possible.”

  The black marker pen flew across the whiteboard. By the time Carla reported back to her, Sara had written down the names of all the family members they had spoken to that morning. “How did you get on?”

  “Eleven tomorrow morning suits you?”

  “Sounds fine. Let’s hope nothing else crops up in the meantime. Can you do me a favour after you’ve gone around the room?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Jot down the names of any relatives we didn’t manage to speak to. Any of the Flowers’ grandkids living in the area. We’ll set aside some time to visit them over the next few days.”

  “Will do.” Carla crossed the room and stopped at Craig’s desk first.

  Sara noted out of the corner of her eye that Carla didn’t stay there long before she moved on to Christine’s desk.

  By the time she had completed her chore, Carla joined her with an update. “Nothing so far, boss. Everyone seems squeaky clean.”

  Sara shrugged. “Why am I not surprised? The only person I really had any doubt about was Michael. I guess all he’s guilty of is taking his parents’ deaths harder than his siblings. All right, it’s almost knocking-off time. Why don’t we leave things there for now and begin afresh in the morning?”

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “I need to arrange a squad car to do regular check-ups around the Bodenham area before I go home.”

  Chapter 7

  Within half an hour, Sara was back in her car heading along A49 towards her home in Walkers Green. She had to resist the temptation to stop off and visit her parents, opting to ring her mother after she had seen to Misty and made herself some tea, although she was still stuffed from lunchtime.

  Misty wound herself around her legs the second she stepped over the threshold. She swept her adorable cat into her arms and smothered her with kisses. Misty purred her delight at the over-the-top attention she was fond of receiving at the end of Sara’s long day. “Hungry, baby?”

  Misty struggled out of her arms and raced through the house into the kitchen. Sara laughed, slipped out of her shoes at the front door and followed Misty. She stopped at the larder cupboard close to the kitchen door and removed a can of cat food. Misty almost tripped her up during her journey over to the sink to retrieve the dedicated spoon she kept on the draining board for ‘cat food use only’. “Will you be patient, Munchkin?”

  After feeding the cat, she filled the kettle and opened the fridge, debating whether she would regret not eating another meal before bedtime. “Nah, if I’m hungry later, I’ll have some cheese and biscuits.”

  She left Misty scoffing her food and walked into the lounge. After placing her coffee on the side table, she sought out her mobile and rang her parents’ number. She cringed when she realised it was six-thirty, the time they usually sat down for their evening meal.

  Her father answered the phone; he sounded a little irate. “Hello.”

  “Sorry, Dad, it’s only me. I didn’t realise what the time was
until the phone started ringing. Enjoy your dinner, I’ll call back in an hour or so. I’ll jump in the bath instead.”

  “Very well, love. Speak soon.”

  Sara ended the call and ran up the stairs to her all-white pristine bathroom. Being a new-build, all the walls were painted white throughout the house. She’d had strict instructions not to decorate for a year, giving the house time to breathe during the drying-out process. She had noticed a few fine cracks here and there, nothing too alarming compared to some of the horror stories she’d heard about new-builds in a TV documentary recently. If she’d seen that programme before moving in she would have been put off ever buying a new property in the future. Thankfully, no one else on the estate had mentioned they’d had any issues with any of their homes, a blessed relief to Sara’s ears. She didn’t have time for that crap. She inspected the house thoroughly every Sunday, noting down if any new cracks had appeared during that week. Nothing too taxing had reared its head so far. She knew that when the time came for decorating, her father would offer his services—he was a dab hand at hanging wallpaper. Sara collected interior design magazines and had even created a mood board for the colour scheme she wanted eventually. But that wouldn’t take place for another six months or so yet.

  She ran the bath and dipped into the master bedroom to collect a clean pair of pyjamas and her towelling robe. Misty ran up the stairs to join her. She hopped up onto the bed and preened herself while Sara undressed and threw her dirty clothes in the large Ali Baba basket she had treated herself to a few weeks ago.

  The bath took only a few minutes to fill. She stepped into the lavender bubbles and sighed. “This is ecstasy. Maybe I should suggest putting a bath in my office at work, especially when I have to work late…or maybe not,” she reconsidered, when she remembered most of her team were males.

  In the distance, her mobile rang. “Damn! I forgot to bring it upstairs.” She strained her neck to hear how long the caller would leave it before they left a voicemail. A beep sounded not long after, letting her know that a message had been left. Who the heck could that be? She debated whether to leave the tub and run downstairs to find out but decided against wetting her new carpets in the end. “I’ll pick up the message later. They’ll ring back if it’s urgent.”

  Switching off mentally, she reclined her head against the bath and closed her eyes. It took all her strength not to drift off. If she fell asleep now, she knew it would be impossible to sleep later when she eventually went to bed.

  After a long soak, she felt refreshed and at ease. Slipping into her pyjamas and towelling robe, she ventured downstairs again and poured herself a vodka and tonic then settled on the couch to ring her parents. It was then that she remembered she’d received a message. She dialled the number and listened.

  “Hi, Sara, it’s me. Sorry I had to dash off last week. I wondered if it would be possible to see you again—soon. Ring me back. Bye.”

  Sara’s heart rate shot up at the sound of his voice. She flopped back in the couch and took a gulp of her drink. “Crap! What do I do now?” Donald was her husband Philip’s brother. The previous week they had met up for a drink with the intention of consoling each other over his death, only it hadn’t worked out that way. With their emotions running high, they had ended up kissing. The kiss had lasted for the briefest moment, but since then, every time Sara thought about the incident, a cold shiver ran through her. It was too soon after Philip’s death to even contemplate getting involved with another man. There was no way on earth if she did settle down with someone new, that person should or would be Donald. How the hell was she supposed to let him down gently? The second the kiss had ended, she’d thought they’d both realised what a mistake it was. Guess I was wrong about that if he wants to see me again so soon. What a bloody mess.

  She inhaled a shuddering breath and took another sip of her drink. Pushing Donald aside for a moment, she decided to give herself time to reflect on how to handle him by ringing her mother first.

  Her mother picked up the phone after the first ring. “Hello, darling. You read my mind, I was just going to ring you back. How are you?”

  Sara smiled. Hearing her mother’s warm, loving voice instantly calmed her anxieties, the way it always did. “I’m fine, Mum. How are you and Dad diddling?”

  Her mother chuckled. “I love that word, it tickles me. Your father is behaving himself and doing as he’s told at the moment. Listening to the doctor’s advice, and when he slips up, he then has to listen to my nagging. Either way, he’s taking it easier. Pottering around in the garden, nothing too stressful.”

  “Has he had any problems with his breathing over the last few days?”

  “No, thankfully. I’m keeping a close eye on him. We have an appointment with the heart specialist in a fortnight.”

  “Let’s hope they’ll have some good news for him then. Keep the faith until then and ensure he doesn’t overdo things. Knowing Dad and his wilfulness, I can appreciate that you’re going to have a tough task on your hands there. He’s not listening to this conversation, is he?”

  “No. He’s watering the back garden. I need to call on all my resources to fight his determination at times but I’ll win the battles in the end, you can be sure of that, love. How’s work going?”

  Sara sighed. “Okay. Something came up today that I really think you should be aware of.”

  “Oh Lordy. What is it, now that you’ve scared me half to death?”

  “Don’t even joke about that, Mum. Are you sitting down?”

  “Yes, I’m in the lounge. Whatever is the matter, child?”

  “I don’t want to cause you any concern; however, I’m only telling you this because you live rurally and should be aware of what has happened.”

  “Now you really are worrying me. This is so unlike you to be concerned about something, dear. What’s wrong?”

  “Please, promise me you won’t fly off the handle and worry about this constantly?”

  “How can I promise that when I haven’t got a clue what you’re going on about? Tell me, for goodness’ sake, child. Don’t you think we’ve gone through enough over the past few years, what with having to deal with Philip’s death…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “No need to apologise, Mum. If anything, it’s because of Philip’s death that I’m cautiously telling you about this.”

  Her mother gasped. “That sounds mighty ominous. Just tell me, dear. Stop keeping me in suspense.”

  “This morning, although it seems a hell of a lot longer than that—it’s been a really long day of chasing our tails.”

  “Sara, stop going around the houses and spit it out. The more you delay telling me, the more anxious I’m becoming.”

  “Sorry, it’s not intentional. Brace yourself, Mum. This morning I was called out to a scene in Bodenham.”

  “I see. What type of scene, love?”

  “A murder scene, Mum.”

  Her mother fell silent on the other end of the line. No sharp intakes of breath, nothing.

  “Mum, are you all right?”

  “What? Oh my. I’m having trouble letting that sink in. A murder you say? Are you saying that you think I’ll know the victim?”

  Damn, that thought never even crossed my mind. “Maybe. Umm…victims, Mum. A husband and wife.”

  “Oh no. That’s dreadful. Who?”

  “A Ted and Maureen Flowers, do you know them?”

  “I’ll have to think about that. I don’t recall the names. Murdered? I haven’t seen anything about it on the news, love.”

  “I’m holding a press conference in the morning. It’ll be all over the news then. The only reason I’m being so open with you about this is because I want to ensure you and Dad are extra vigilant going forward. Make sure you double-check the doors are locked at night. Dad put up a security light in the back garden, didn’t he?”

  “He did. Oh my. Was it a burglary that got out of hand?”

  “We’re not sure at this poi
nt, Mum. There was no sign of forced entry from what we could see, so who knows? Can you get Dad to install a light above the front door? If only to appease me?”

  “I’ll get him on to that ASAP. We’ll take a run into Hereford in the morning to B&Q, see what they’ve got in stock. Whatever next? A murder—two murders—right on our doorstep. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep at night now. Hey, never mind about us, we have each other, what about you? You’re there all alone.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Mum. I live on a small estate, nothing like that will happen around here. It’s you two I’m more concerned about. I’ll see if I can have a word with the desk sergeant in the morning, see if he has a sheet about ‘security in the home’ lying around. I know we used to do a regular leaflet drop now and again when I was stationed in Liverpool. I guess they’ve never felt the need for that type of thing around here. Well, times are changing.”

  “Don’t say it like that. Let’s hope this is a one-off. I think your father and I are pretty tight with our security measures anyway. We don’t want to distract you from your enquiries. Do you have any clues as to who would commit this dreadful crime?”

  “Not yet, Mum. Carla and I have spent the day questioning the family members. It’s been a really tough, emotional day.”

  “Sorry to hear that, love. Did it bring back unwanted memories?”

  Sara smiled. Her mother really did know her well. “Yes and no. When I first saw the pool of blood in the couple’s residence, I managed to push it aside and deal with it in the end. I don’t suppose I’ll ever really get over what happened to Philip.” Her eyes pricked with threatening tears.

  “It’s still less than two years, dear. These things take time. You know we’re always on the end of the phone, don’t you?”

  “I appreciate that, Mum.”

  “Have Philip’s parents stayed in touch with you?”

  “Yes. Charlotte rings me once a month, pleads with me to go over there to see them. Crikey, as if I haven’t got enough on my plate as it is. It’s all right for her, she’s a lady who lunches, has several hours in her day that she needs to fill. That luxury evades me.”