by LJ Ross
“Agreed. Added to which, Maggie was within my sight throughout Saturday evening when Victor went missing and Cassandra was around for most of it, too.”
Ryan removed three of the photographs so they could see who remained.
“Although those two under-gardeners are physically able, they’re both well alibied,” MacKenzie said.
“If we work on most likely probabilities, I would say that leaves three serious contenders,” Ryan murmured. “Dave Quibble, Martin Henderson and Charlotte Shapiro.”
He was suddenly reminded of Charlotte Shapiro’s scratched hands, and remembered she had been the one to find Alice’s body. It was a well-known fact that killers often returned to the scene of their crimes, especially if they were looking for something they’d lost.
There was a short silence, then Ryan turned to address Yates.
“I think that’s a short list the FIU can work with, don’t you?”
She nodded happily.
“I’ll get onto it right away, sir.”
As Yates sprang up to alert the finance unit and set the wheels in motion for special account monitoring orders, Ryan looked back down at the three faces staring up at him and wondered.
* * *
There was no time. Any moment now, the police could burst in with a warrant to search and seize and that would be the end of everything. All their careful plans would turn to dust, all the years of trying and grasping at every little opportunity would be wasted.
What, then, would they have to show for taking a life?
They shuddered and carried on pulling out papers from the hidden unit at the back of the desk. Once the unit was cleaned out and they’d had a good feel around for any stray papers, they bundled the stack into a plain canvas bag and headed out to stuff it into the boot of their car.
Come nightfall, they would find the perfect spot for a bonfire.
* * *
Back at CID Headquarters, Ryan’s good mood was vanishing rapidly. “What the hell is this? Amateurs Anonymous?”
He glared at each of them in turn and at least they had the grace to look sheepish.
“I don’t know how we missed that one, guv.” Lowerson was the first to speak, and the others in the room silently commended his bravery.
“Neither do I, considering you all have two eyes and a brain inside your heads,” Ryan shot back.
“We’ll get onto it straight away,” Phillips assured him, with a nervous glance towards MacKenzie.
“Don’t look at me,” she said, holding her hands up.
Ryan watched them pass the proverbial parcel among themselves and shook his head.
“Count yourselves lucky I’m not sending you all back to cadet training school for a refresher course,” he muttered. “As it is, I’m going to overlook the fact that nobody has contacted Victor’s mobile phone company yet, despite it being one of the first and most obvious things we look for.”
“I suppose I didn’t think an old bloke like him would have a mobile phone,” Lowerson confessed, drawing disbelieving glances from around the room.
Ryan told himself to remain calm.
“Jack, I realise that anyone over the age of thirty-five seems ‘old’ to you. But, to the rest of us, age is just a number. We might have a few more lines but we’re mostly the same as we always were, which includes Victor Swann. You need to get the idea out of your head that age equates to incapacity.”
“I narf feel the draughts, now, like,” Phillips threw in, and Ryan slapped a hand to his face. “And my knees creak a lot more than they used to.”
“Fascinating insight,” Ryan muttered, and came back to the point.
“Look, if Victor Swann could run a highly successful cottage business in blackmail and extortion, he sure as hell could operate a mobile phone. That’s probably what our perp was looking for when they raided his locker.”
MacKenzie looked at the inventory of items found scattered around Alice Chapman’s body.
“No mention of a mobile phone on the list,” she confirmed.
“Yet we know Victor must have had one.”
“Somebody took it?”
“It looks that way, doesn’t it? I want to know what was on that phone and where it is now.”
“I’ll get in touch with the phone company,” Lowerson offered, and fled the room.
As the door clicked shut, Ryan turned to the others with a private smile.
“Ah, youth.”
* * *
Anna spent most of the day finalising details for the wedding, which was fast approaching. She grappled with last-minute cancellations and tussled with caterers, spoke to friends who were due to attend and organised for a large donation to be made to the food banks in Newcastle. She thought it only fair that, if they planned to enjoy a hearty wedding breakfast, they should spare a thought for others who were not so fortunate while they stuffed their faces with fruit cake. Her wedding dress was now safely ensconced in the spare bedroom with the door firmly shut. She had never considered herself to be a superstitious person but it was an established tradition that the groom should not see her dress before the big day and she planned to stick to it.
Anna sat down briefly on the bed, looked at the long white protective cover hanging on the back of the door and thought of one thing.
Her mother.
Sara Taylor had been a beautiful woman, taken too young by a man whose obsession had driven him mad. Anna’s childhood was riddled with memories of domestic abuse and drunken scenes. She and her sister had grown up with the spectre of shame hanging over their heads and, on a small island community, it had been hard to hide from it. She had felt a terrible sense of relief when her father died, his body smashed against the rocks at the foot of Lindisfarne Castle many years ago.
Inexplicably, she still mourned him; more so in the last couple of years since she’d found out that he hadn’t been responsible for her mother’s death, or his own, for that matter. Andy Taylor might have been a big man with hard hands, but he hadn’t killed her mother and he hadn’t killed himself.
Small comfort.
When she walked down the aisle in just over a week, it struck her that she would have no father to cling to for support. There would be no mother to help her to dress and pin her veil, no sister to laugh and drink champagne with beforehand. She had friends, of course, but it wasn’t the same.
Anna stood up and smoothed a hand over the dress hanging on the back of the door and, for the first time in a long while, felt utterly alone.
CHAPTER 23
It was just before five o’clock when Ryan excused himself and took an hour’s personal time to tend to something very important. He was pleased to see the weather was still holding and fluffy white clouds made their slow journey across an otherwise clear sky. He left Lowerson and Yates in charge of telecommunications while they awaited news from the financial investigation unit, and MacKenzie and Phillips took charge of all other business in his absence. That included forensic updates and wading through the ever-growing pile of paperwork that had been generated over the past few days. They would continue to delve into the history of each person of interest and contact him as soon as there was any development.
With that reassurance, Ryan drove back to the rental cottage at Cragside. It was tempting to stop for a word with Faulkner to check how the groundwork was coming along but he deliberately steered the car away from the main house and took the smaller access road directly to the cottage. If there was any news, Faulkner would get in touch.
Anna looked up in surprise when the front door opened and automatically checked her watch.
“You’re home early,” she said, searching his face to see if anything was wrong.
Ryan smiled enigmatically.
“Put your shoes on, I’m taking you out,” he said.
Anna waved at the piles of books on the kitchen table.
“I’d really love to but I’ve been tied up with wedding nonsense all morning and I need to get down to some work.”
“Well, I’ve got some more wedding nonsense for you.”
“Have we forgotten to book something?”
For the life of her, she couldn’t think what. Ryan’s mother had been invaluable over the past few months, helping to replace so many of the things that had been lost in the fire at Anna’s cottage, as well as dealing with the bureaucracy of planning a large event. Ryan’s parents had stayed with them for over a month, primarily so that Eve Finley-Ryan could hold her son close and thank whichever higher power had kept him safe from the Hacker.
“It’s nothing like that,” Ryan told her but didn’t elaborate. “Now, woman, are you going to obey your soon-to-be-husband or do I need to drag you barefoot?”
Anna gave him an eloquent look and he laughed appreciatively.
“Chance would be a fine thing.”
Anna rose to find her shoes but took her time about it, on principle.
A few minutes later when they were driving towards Rothbury, she turned to him again.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Ryan smiled to himself.
“Nope.”
She watched his hard profile as he steered the car and folded her arms.
“I don’t like surprises,” she said, although that was possibly because she’d never had any.
“I hope you’ll like this one,” he said softly.
* * *
Ryan drove through the handsome town of Rothbury and followed the road which ran parallel to the Coquet river. They wound through the valley and through villages with names straight out of Tolkien; they passed Thropton, Flotterton and Caistron, skirting around the Northumberland National Park until they reached the ancient village of Elsdon. It was a favourite place of Anna’s to visit, not only because it was chocolate-box pretty but because of its rich local history. They had spent many a happy Sunday afternoon wandering the motte and bailey castle while Anna chattered about fortifications against Border reivers and Ryan looked forward to lunch at the pub. The landscape undulated gently and, when the light fell in a certain way against the hillside, the village looked almost ethereal.
“Oh, this is a nice idea,” Anna said happily. “Did you want to have dinner nearby?”
Ryan held his tongue.
Anna gave him a frustrated glare and wondered what he was up to.
Ryan didn’t stop and park the car in any of the usual places but carried on a little further past the village until they came to an unmarked turning. He took it and began to climb, the road shielded by tall hedgerows on either side.
“I need to think about getting a more practical car,” he said under his breath.
Suddenly they emerged onto a plateau of higher ground and Ryan slowed to watch out for another unmarked turn.
“Need to get some lights up here,” he added and was grateful it was summer so there was another hour or two of sunlight left in the day.
Anna barely had time to wonder what had come over him when Ryan let out a small sound of relief and stopped the car to jump out beside a plain wooden gate. He fished out a set of keys and pushed it open before jogging back to the car and turning inside.
Seated beside him, she watched as the scenery came slowly into view. She could see Elsdon nestled in the valley beneath, like a model village with its peel tower and church spire. As Ryan pulled the car to a stop, the clouds shifted and long beams of light fell upon the village, turning its stone into a soft, apricot hue.
“It’s beautiful up here,” she murmured.
Ryan watched her face soften, then reached over to squeeze her hand.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Anna was happy to comply and they began to stroll further along the wide ridge of land with panoramic views across the dale. When they had walked a little further, Ryan slung his arm around her shoulder and tugged her against his body.
“Thank you for bringing me up here,” she said. “I always find this area so restful.”
“Me too,” he said and took a deep breath.
“What do you think about buying a place here?”
Anna twisted and looked up into his earnest face.
“Really? Isn’t the commute a bit inconvenient for you?”
“I don’t mind the drive,” Ryan said. “But it’s further away from Durham and your work at the university.”
Anna mulled it over.
“I only have three days of teaching; the rest of the time I could work from home. It would certainly be a change from living just across the river from the faculty, though.”
She paused.
“Is that why you brought me up here? Is there a house for sale in the area?”
“You could say that. There’s a parcel of land.”
“Where?”
“You’re standing on it,” he murmured, and she stepped away to turn around and get a better look.
She faced him again with excited eyes.
“All of this?”
Ryan nodded.
“It’s almost three acres in total,” he told her, pointing towards the gate. “From there, it includes the land reaching to the hedgerows on three sides, and down to the edge of the hill.”
Anna pressed her hand to her mouth, already imagining what could be built.
“It’s not agricultural land?”
“No, I’ve already spoken to the planning office,” he assured her, and almost added that he already had planning permission approved in principle. “You like it, then?”
She laughed.
“Like it? I love it!” But as soon as the words left her lips, her face fell again. “I suppose it’s very expensive, though.”
Ryan could have kissed her and, in another moment, he would. It was hardly a regular topic of conversation but she was aware of his family history and the privileged childhood he had enjoyed. What she didn’t know was the extent of the legacy left to him by his maternal grandmother, which could have allowed him never to work again.
But that wasn’t his way.
It was almost embarrassing to admit to that kind of good fortune and he hardly touched it other than to check the status of the various philanthropic ventures he’d set in motion over ten years ago. He’d used the money only three times for his own personal use: once, to fund his police cadet training in London; the second time, to purchase his first and only property on the Quayside in Newcastle, which was now lying vacant; and thirdly, to purchase the parcel of land they now stood on.
He looked across at the woman he loved.
“It’s yours,” he told her.
Anna thought she had misheard him.
“What do you mean?”
“I found it months ago,” he admitted. “Long before the fire in Durham. The sale went through six weeks ago and the title is in your name. I always planned to give it to you as a wedding present and I hoped that we could build something here, together. For ourselves and, one day, maybe, our children.”
She felt tears burn the back of her eyes and she looked away, out across the hills. Her breath started to hitch and she put a hand to her stomach to settle it, so she could find the right words.
Her eyes were brilliant when she looked at him again.
“I don’t know what to say or how to tell you what I’m feeling.”
Her lips trembled and he made as if to step forward but she held him off, just for another moment.
“I want you to know that I don’t need anything like this.” She swept an arm out to encompass the land. “I love you for everything you are, not everything you have.”
He reached out to touch her hair.
“I know that.”
“Good. I couldn’t stand it if you thought otherwise.”
The thought of Anna being a gold-digger was so ridiculous, he almost laughed.
“I can always put it up for sale, if you don’t want it?”
She turned on him with horrified eyes and, catching the mirth dancing on his face, launched herself at him.
“Than
k you,” she said and kissed him.
There on the brow of the hill, they planned the house they would build. It would have floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides so they could enjoy the view of the countryside they both loved. They spoke of the little village community and of the friends they hoped to make and of the walks they could take over the moors and in the National Park.
“I only have one request,” Ryan said, as they finally made their way home.
Anna slanted him a look.
“You want a hot tub, don’t you?”
“Got it in one.”
* * *
Their excitement was interrupted not long afterwards by a call from Phillips. “Got a minute?”
“I’ve got several,” Ryan said, using the hands-free function as he drove back to Cragside. “What’s up?”
“I reckon we’ve had a bit of a breakthrough,” Phillips said, his voice crackling through the car speakers. “Lowerson’s just come off the phone to the telephone company. They checked the records from Victor Swann’s mobile phone and they’ve confirmed it was last transmitting at 18:54 on Saturday night, after which there was nothing.”
“How accurate is the radius?”
“There’s a mast in the grounds at Cragside so they’ve been able to triangulate to within fifty metres and we think the phone was last active within the house. But that’s not all,” Phillips said. “Lowerson’s pushing through the paperwork so they can release the text messages they’ve got recorded on their system.”
“How soon until they can get them through to us?”
“You know what these companies are like,” Phillips groused. “It’s all ‘computer says no’ and on the dot of five they’re off shift. The compliance officer we need to get hold of works flexi-hours and he won’t be back on until seven a.m. tomorrow.”
“At which time, I want you to be ready and waiting to breathe down his neck.”
“More than happy to,” his sergeant replied.
“Any word on DNA?”
“They’re going as fast as they can.”
Ryan slowed the car for the turn into Cragside estate and nearly collided with Henderson’s vehicle as it zoomed down the narrow road. He performed an emergency stop, swore volubly and watched the estate manager’s tail lights disappear in his rear-view mirror.