by Dawn Brookes
‘I don’t know, but he’s been useful to Dad, and now we’re together, he works in the firm.’
‘What is it your dad does?’
‘He has a law firm.’
That certainly wasn’t what Fiona had expected to hear. Perhaps her brother had gone legit after all. Steve’s raised voice coming from the hallway suggested things might not be going as well as intended.
‘What sort of law does your dad practise?’
‘Criminal law. He’s a defence attorney and famous in these parts.’
Fiona stared down at her hands. What work could Steve possibly do to help a defence attorney other than research? A knot in her stomach tightened as she remembered some of the contacts Steve had had in London. These people were dangerous.
‘Are you a lawyer too?’ Bimbo more like, Fiona thought.
Jen stared at her acrylic nails and cackled. ‘No. I can’t think of anything more boring. I do hospitality for him, though. Put on corporate dos for some of the big shots he represents.’
‘You must meet some highflyers in your work, then?’
‘No celebrities, I’m afraid. Most of Dad’s clients are CEOs of major companies in Scotland. A few from England, but they’re boring people most of the time. Dad’s wary of some of them. He likes to keep them happy, you know?’
The sinking feeling at what her brother might be involved in wasn’t going away. Steve reappeared, preventing her asking the next question.
‘Why don’t you go to bed, love?’ he suggested to Jen as she closed her eyes.
‘Your brother’s so domineering,’ Jen slurred before prising herself unsteadily from the settee. ‘I like my men… dangerous.’ She winked at Steve before staggering from the room.
‘I think I’ll go up, too. We’ve got an early start in the morning. I’ve got to go over to Jen’s father’s. Looks like I’m going to be working over Christmas now.’
Fiona’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re meant to be going to Dad’s,’ she gasped.
‘Not anymore. Something’s come up.’
‘You can’t do that to him, Steve. He’s been looking forward to this for months. I bet he doesn’t even know about your new, erm… setup.’
‘I’ll make it up to him. Can you call him for me?’
‘Oh no! You do your own dirty work. There’s no way…’ but she knew Steve wouldn’t face up to the responsibility and she would have to do it.
‘I have to work, Fiona. You of all people should understand that.’
‘And just what sort of work are you involved in, Steve?’
Her brother’s shoulders slumped before he shot her a steely gaze. ‘Well-paid work, as it happens. Look around you, Fi. I’m living in a way I’ve always dreamed of. No more poverty for me.’
‘And what does it cost to live like this?’ she muttered. ‘At what cost?’ she repeated, returning her brother’s glare.
‘I knew you wouldn’t understand. You can be so self-righteous sometimes, you know that? I’m earning a good living; why do you have to knock it? I’ve got a decent woman and a good job. You’re the one who told me to find those two things when I last saw you.’
‘That’s just it, though, isn’t it? You’ve got neither here. Jen told me what sort of work you’re involved in.’
‘She can’t have. She doesn’t know,’ he yelled before realising what he’d said. His hand flew to his mouth. ‘You always do that to me.’ He slumped back down in a chair.
‘I just don’t want you to end up in prison again, Steve. Don’t you see? It won’t be Jen’s father who takes the rap, it’ll be you.’
‘I’m not doing anything wrong, Fi.’ He stood up, heading towards the door. ‘Tell Dad I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to him.’
Fiona’s head spun as she heard her brother go upstairs. What had he got himself into this time? She poured herself a glass of the red.
‘Someone might as well finish the bottle. Too expensive to waste.’ She gave a wry smile and called Carlos.
‘Hi, Fiona, how’s it going up there?’
‘Could be better,’ she muttered.
‘Steve?’
‘Yeah. I don’t know what he’s into, Carlos, but it involves some big shot defence lawyer, his new bimbo girlfriend’s daddy. I’m worried about him.’
‘He’s an adult, Fiona. He makes his own choices.’
‘I know, but I’m torn apart when he makes the wrong ones. I’ve got this huge guilt feeling that I didn’t do enough for him growing up. Mum died when he was nine. Dad’s been in a wheelchair for donkey’s years after an accident at work. I should have been there for him.’
She could hear Carlos’s deep intake of breath. She never usually talked about her background for this reason. People didn’t know how to react.
He spoke, breaking the silence. ‘Fiona, I know you. You would have done everything you could for your headstrong brother. He has to take responsibility for his own actions. Are you worried he’s breaking the law?’
‘In my gut, I’m positive he is. But the question is, what do I do about it? A part of me wants to dig deeper, but another part wants to steer clear. I don’t want to put myself in a position of having to rat on my own brother. Dad would never forgive me.’
‘You’ll make the right decision.’ Carlos sighed again. ‘He’s family, and you can’t be certain he’s up to no good. Perhaps you should put the matter on hold and wait for him to reach out to you when he needs to.’
‘I just hope he doesn’t leave it too late.’ She took a large gulp of wine. ‘Anyway, that’s not why I rang. How’s our case? Any news on what caused the bike to be in tatters?’
‘I didn’t get round to asking Caroline or Meg about it. Things went a bit crazy, to be honest. Meg’s acting strange – singing and humming one minute, quiet and fearful the next. She still believes Harold is alive at times, and as for her son – she’s not said a word about Matthew. I suspect she’s lived in a nightmare, barely allowed out of the house from the sounds of it.
‘I went to church this evening to see if I could find out anything else from the locals about who might have wanted Sissons dead. I haven’t found anyone who liked him yet. Even the friendly vicar is at a loss to say anything good about the man.’
‘Did you speak to that colonel you mentioned? Sounds like he could be a person of interest.’
‘Only briefly, but I did discover he held a torch for Meg in his younger days, and from what I witnessed tonight, he still does.’
‘Tell me more.’
‘Meg and Caroline made a surprise appearance at the carol service. Martin Webb was the first to greet them and spent ages after the service talking to Meg. The vicar tells me there was village gossip about him and Harold being at odds with each other for years. To be honest, Colonel Webb makes no secret of his dislike for Harold Sissons, so there could be no more to it than an old love rivalry. I can’t help hoping something good happens to Meg soon. She deserves it.’
‘You’re going soft, Jacobi.’ Fiona thought for a moment, then added, ‘Anyone else of interest?’
‘No-one obvious. There’s a nurse who doesn’t get on with the colonel, she might be worth talking to. We need to find out if there’s more to the animosity between the two men. Enough to cause Webb to kill Sissons. I’d really like to wrap this case up before Christmas.’
‘Me too. I’m gonna have to fit in a visit to Dad. Steve’s let him down big time.’
‘And I’d like to catch up with Rachel at some point. One other thing that could be something or nothing: Meg’s recollection of events on the day Harold went missing is muddled. I don’t know whether she’s got things mixed up in her mind. She went to bed after I asked a few questions, couldn’t cope. I did find his spade, though. Neatly polished and hanging in the shed alongside his other garden tools, so that’s not the murder weapon.’
‘Get me away from all these OCD freaks. Give me a messy room any day.’
Carlos laughed along with Fiona. ‘You’ll get that w
hen you’re home.’
‘What do you want me to do about the bike?’
‘Leave it for now. I’ll ask Caroline tomorrow. When do you think you’ll be back?’
‘Tomorrow, I hope. Once I’ve finished this pointless exercise, I’ll be on the first train. This could have been done over the phone. One thing’s certain, if I do have to stay any longer, I’ll find a B&B.’
‘Are you sure? It’s Christmas week.’
‘Yes, I know, and now, thanks to my brother, I have to call my father and tell him his beloved son won’t be home for Christmas like he promised. Goodnight, Carlos.’
21
The insistent ringing of his phone woke Carlos out of an unsettled sleep. He checked the time – five-thirty.
‘Hi, Sophie. Are you on your way back?’
‘Yes. We’re stuck in traffic on the M1, there’s been an accident. Just to let you know we’re running late, so Gary’s going to drop me off in town to do some last-minute Christmas shopping.’
Carlos could hear vehicles and background noise, but the line kept breaking up.
‘Gary’s mum slipped on the ice last night, so we spent most of the evening in casualty, but all’s well. Gary’s stressed about finishing his project.’
‘I bet he is, poor guy. And he’s had all the trauma of the past few days.’
‘I know. How’s things down there? Is Meg okay?’
‘She’s up and down, not always with it. Hopefully I can get to the bottom of this case and she can move on. I went to the carol service last night, had an interesting chat with the vicar about Colonel Webb.’
‘Sorry, Carlos, I missed most of that, the line is terrible.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll speak later.’
‘I’ll see you later, then. Bye.’ Sophie ended the call.
Carlos lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. What a break this was turning out to be. He went downstairs to make coffee and let Lady out before dialling Rachel.
‘You must have read my mind. I thought about calling you, but it was too early.’ Her cheerful but tired tone was wonderful to hear.
‘I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.’
‘Same here,’ she answered.
‘How’s the night stint?’
‘Full of drunks and brawls so far. There’s been a spate of violent robberies around the town centre, but we caught the perps last night. Led to a dawn raid this morning on an Eastern European gang moving in on the city.’
‘Dawn must arrive early in Leeds, it’s still dark here.’
She yawned. ‘You know what I mean. How’s your investigation going?’
Carlos filled her in on where he’d got to so far. Talking to Rachel helped him organise his thoughts.
‘I believe we’re looking at two separate incidents. One where Harold Sissons killed his son, either through malice or by accident, and one where someone killed Harold.’
Rachel asked the question on his mind. ‘You don’t think they’re connected?’
‘Not unless someone else knew about the boy’s death, and the only person I’ve found – but not met – is one of the vicar’s daughters, who didn’t believe Matthew Sissons – that’s the son – ran away from home. Meg and Caroline had no idea about the grisly secret, as far as I can tell.’
‘What about the mysterious person in the garage you mentioned?’
‘Could have been an opportunist thief looking to nick something, but the bike thing bothers me.’
‘Do you think Harold could have run his own son over?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘If it was an accident, he would have called an ambulance, surely?’
‘Most normal people would, but Harold Sissons is turning out to be a complex and devious individual. Caroline – their daughter – says he never wanted the boy in the first place. He was misogynistic enough to believe Meg should have complied with his wishes – he wanted her to have an abortion, so in his twisted head, he may well have believed Matthew had no right to live…’
‘Go on…’ Rachel encouraged.
‘Say it was an accident. He could have convinced himself it was for the best. Now it seems Harold Sissons got what he deserved – karma.’
‘Who do you suspect might have killed him if you exclude immediate family? Colonel Webb must be high on your list.’
‘Yep. He is, but I hope it’s not him. He’s a curt but likeable chap, and I’m hoping he can bring Meg some happiness out of all this.’
‘You’re going soft.’
‘That’s what Fiona says.’
‘Who’s Fiona? Should I be jealous?’
‘Blimey, Rachel, I forgot to mention it. Fiona Cook’s down here working for CID. Her DCI is an old nemesis from my army days. I never thought I’d see him again.’ A cloud weighed heavily on Carlos’s head at the mention of Masters. ‘Look, you need to get some sleep. I’ll fill you in when we meet. I’ll try to get up there on Christmas Eve or between Christmas and New Year and take you out for dinner before shift.’
‘You’re on.’ She yawned again. ‘Give Fiona my love and give Lady a big hug and plenty of treats from me. Take care, darling.’
Speaking to Rachel brightened his morning. Now he could focus on clearing up this investigation. He was going to have to ask Meg and Caroline some tough questions if the old lady could take it. But first, it was time to take Lady for a run.
Running always cleared Carlos’s head, but the morning was flying by. He’d been delayed on his way back by every villager seeming to want to say hello, many remembering him from church the previous evening. He asked a few questions about Harold and Meg, but other than reiterating how unpopular Harold had been, none of the people he spoke with knew him well.
He spotted the nurse, Josie, about to get into her car and hailed her. ‘Good morning. I wonder if I could ask a few questions about Harold and Meg Sissons, if you have the time.’
Her green eyes narrowed as she assessed him. ‘What’s your interest? I don’t speak to the press.’
‘I’m a private investigator. Carlos, Carlos Jacobi,’ he handed her his card. ‘I’m staying with my sister and brother-in-law next door to Meg. They’ve hired me to find out who might be responsible for Harold’s death.’
Carlos could have sworn the nurse was there when he’d been at the community centre on Friday. Why was she pretending not to know him?
‘Josie Reynolds.’ She held out her hand. Carlos shook it. ‘I heard about the tragic finding of young Matthew; so sad. We all believed he’d gone missing.’
‘You knew him then?’
‘Everybody knows who everyone is in this village, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. I remember him going missing. He’s… was the same age as my youngest.’
‘Did you know Harold?’
‘Other than passing the time of day, I barely knew either of the Sissons’. They keep… kept themselves to themselves.’
‘I was wondering if you could tell me a little about Colonel Martin Webb?’
Josie flicked back her long ponytail of black hair. A glimmer of annoyance crossed her face.
‘I’m in a rush. I need to get to work.’
‘Thank you for your time.’ The car door slammed and Josie Reynolds was gone.
As soon as he and Lady got home, Carlos showered, dressed and prepared breakfast. He changed Lady’s dressing, pleased the wound was healing nicely.
‘Good girl,’ he said as he applied a new dressing to stop her licking it. ‘I need to go next door. You stay here, okay?’
Lady flopped down on the old blanket Sophie had provided by way of a make-do bed. Her eyes didn’t leave him until he closed the door to the lounge. His phone rang while he was wrestling with a jumper.
‘Hi, Fiona. Are you on your way home?’
‘I’m on my way to the train station, but Carlos, I’m calling to warn you. Caroline Winslow has played us.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was in Derbysh
ire on the day Harold Sissons went missing. She met with colleagues at The Derby Conference Centre. It was an all-day meeting, but she left early, telling a friend she was going to see her mother in Peaks Hollow!’
‘What time did she leave the conference?’ Carlos drew in a deep breath, annoyed with Caroline for lying to him.
‘Two-thirty. Plenty of time to get up there and kill Harold.’
‘Have you spoken to her husband?’
‘Yeah, he’s covering for her. Says she left early to drive home because she hates night driving. He’s lying, I can tell, but he’s sticking to the story.’
‘That explains the text message,’ Carlos sighed. ‘Unless he’s telling the truth.’
‘I’ll request traffic cam footage, which I’m sure will place her on one of the motorways after the death of Harold Sissons. I’ve got to call Masters now and tell him, but wanted to give you the heads up first.’
‘Thanks, Fiona. Do me a favour, can you delay calling him for fifteen minutes? I’m heading next door to speak to Caroline.’
‘Okay. You’ve got fifteen minutes.’
Two minutes later, Caroline answered the door. She was dressed in a lime-green suit, but with wet hair dripping on to a towel around her neck.
‘Can you come back? I’m just out the shower.’
‘No. It can’t wait. We need to talk, Caroline. You lied to me.’
Her eyes widened and she stood aside to allow him entry.
‘Mother’s gone into the village for some shopping.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were in Derbyshire on the day your father went missing?’
‘Why do you think?’ she snapped.
‘Did you kill him, Caroline?’
‘You’d better come through to the kitchen,’ she said, gathering herself. Once there, she poured them both tea. ‘In answer to your question – no, I did not kill Harold Sissons. The first I heard of him going missing was when your sister told Aiden. How do you think I felt when I found out he went missing about the time I was in the area?’ Tears filled her eyes, then bitterness. ‘Trust that man to die and leave me in the firing line. The irony of it all. He’s probably down there, laughing right now.’ Caroline pointed to the ground.