Body in the Woods (Carlos Jacobi Book 1)

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Body in the Woods (Carlos Jacobi Book 1) Page 16

by Dawn Brookes


  ‘Drat, Lady. I forgot she lived on a boat!’

  23

  The suspension of Carlos’s Capri struggled with the contours and bumps along the dark country roads. He’d virtually rebuilt the car from the inside out, installing original parts which were not always easy to find. The outer body remained in good condition following a respray and he garaged it overnight whenever he could. It wasn’t unusual for him to travel hundreds of miles to collect a part for his precious vehicle.

  Now he was bouncing up and down on the leather seats, thankful he’d had new seatbelts fitted. His satnav had given up the ghost, but he remembered there should be a turnoff to the left before a junction.

  Arriving at the staggered junction, he realised he’d come too far. There was no room to turn, so he crossed the junction, turning on the opposite side of the road and pointing his car back the way he’d just come. He drove more slowly this time and spotted the turnoff after about a mile.

  Turning right, he entered an even bumpier unmaintained track and drove cautiously along with lights on full beam. Finally, he arrived at a pothole filled car park, found a space and switched off the engine, letting out a sigh of relief.

  Lady leapt from the car as soon as he opened the door and released her seatbelt.

  ‘Not the best journey, was it, girl? Good job I strapped you in.’

  The car park was dark and heavy rain pelted down, soaking his waxed jacket on the outside. He jumped back inside the car, leaving Lady to explore while he texted Fiona.

  ‘We’re here.’

  ‘Be right out,’ came the reply.

  Five minutes later, Fiona tapped on the window of the passenger door and climbed in. Carlos called Lady, who jumped in the back seat where a dry blanket awaited her.

  ‘You look wet,’ Fiona chuckled.

  ‘Great place you chose to live. I’m lucky my shock absorbers haven’t snapped.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Your mac comes in handy round here, I bet.’

  ‘Do you like the hat? It’s a new addition and almost matches.’ Fiona removed the darker blue bucket hat dripping water over her mac.

  ‘You’re starting to look like a country bumpkin,’ he laughed.

  ‘That’s my type of gal. Come on, I’m starving. I guess it’s pub grub as you’ve brought Lady.’

  ‘Yep. That will do nicely, if we ever make it out of here.’

  ‘I would have shown you the boat, but it’s muddy down there along the towpath, and I knew you’d be wearing your designer shoes!’

  He laughed again, staring down at his soaked tan Barbour boots.

  ‘These babies can take a bit of rain. I’ve got my jeans on, if that helps?’

  ‘Also designer, no doubt.’

  Carlos conceded. ‘You win. Where to?’

  ‘Back out to the main road, down to the next junction, across the staggered junction. There’s a pub two miles along on the right.’

  ‘I met the staggered junction and realised I’d gone too far. This place really is off the beaten track. Couldn’t you find a mooring in a better place?’

  ‘Not on my wages. I spent everything buying the boat and paid the first year’s mooring in advance. That way, I have somewhere to live, no matter what happens. Most of my salary goes on care fees for my dad, so I hope you realise you’re paying tonight.’ She laughed heartily.

  ‘It will be my pleasure.’ He pushed the gearstick into first and began the tentative drive back to normal roads. ‘I didn’t realise you supported your dad, Fiona. Isn’t there any income support?’

  ‘He gets the maximum, but he’s in debt up to his ears after bailing Steve out over the years. Steve would be dead in some backstreet alley if he hadn’t. I want to keep Dad at home for as long as possible so pay top-up fees for a live-in carer.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. Dad’s happy, and the best news is, I don’t have to try to race down to Surrey in between working over Christmas. I was surprised; he almost sounded relieved when I told him Steve was working over Christmas and couldn’t make it. Seems he’s joined some disabled club where the old codgers go on outings and play chess competitions. He’s always been good at chess – he sounded happier than I’ve heard him in years. Seems the men in the family have both had personality transplants!’ She laughed. ‘Anyway, the community centre that formed the club is providing them with a slap-up Christmas dinner, courtesy of the local church. It’s a great weight off my mind, and don’t worry, I exaggerate slightly – my wages do leave me with some spending money.’

  They arrived at the pub car park and Carlos found the last space.

  ‘Busy,’ he remarked.

  ‘A lot of people from the marina come here, and there’s a village up the road within walking distance.’

  Fiona nodded to a few people on the way in and they hustled their way towards the bar.

  ‘Keep your eye out for a table,’ she yelled to be heard above the din. ‘Lager, is it?’

  He gave her a thumbs-up sign and did as instructed while Fiona ordered drinks. He turned to pay, but she pushed his hand away.

  ‘You can get dinner and put it on expenses,’ she laughed.

  ‘You’re on. Look, there’s a small table coming up in that corner.’ Carlos grabbed his pint and headed in the direction of the table, managing to sit down before anyone else noticed it was vacant. Fiona joined him.

  ‘Nice one,’ she smirked. ‘I’ve asked Ted to bring us his specials, unless you want to wait all night to eat.’

  ‘No. The specials will be fine. I hope.’

  ‘You can go get Lady now we’re settled.’

  Carlos took a swig of lager and headed outside to the car. Fiona had told him well-behaved dogs were allowed in, but he was pleased she’d suggested they find a seat first. It had been challenging enough to find space in the packed bar without an excited dog in tow.

  He opened the car door and Lady sat up expectantly. Her drenched fur and look of sheer delight pulled at his heart.

  ‘Come on, girl. Best behaviour, though. None of your quirky issues tonight. All right?’

  Lady barked as if she understood and allowed him to put her on the lead before they headed back inside the pub. A few minutes later, they were at the table. Lady licked Fiona’s hand and lay down partly under the table with her head on Carlos’s foot.

  ‘She’ll dry off now. I can feel the heat from that fire over there.’ Carlos was delighted to see an open fire roaring a few feet away. Fiona laughed.

  ‘Why do you think it’s so popular with boat people? Free heating.’

  A heavyweight barman came over to their table bringing two large plates stacked with chilli con carné and rice.

  ‘Here you go, Ms Cook. Enjoy your meal.’ The man winked.

  ‘I take it that’s Ted?’

  ‘Yeah. We get on. I helped him out after a burglary and he’s been good to me ever since. You’ll get a ten per cent discount, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks. I approve of the special. Right up my street.’

  ‘I knew it would be when I saw what it was.’ Fiona glanced around as she forked chilli con carne into her mouth. ‘Right. What have you got?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I’ve gathered so far. Caroline was in the vicinity, but a few miles away in Bakewell. She says she stopped at a café to pluck up the courage to challenge her father, but once the adrenaline surge had dropped from her initial bravado, she couldn’t face it. She was worried she’d make things worse for Meg.’

  ‘A well-founded worry, I should imagine,’ said Fiona, polishing off some more chilli.

  ‘I agree. She said she cried her eyes out in the car park for a long time before returning to the café to wash, and then drove back to Edinburgh.’

  ‘So why did her husband lie?’

  ‘He was trying to protect her. He knew how it would look. She’d told him not to, but it seems he did anyway. He’s on his way down to Peaks Hollow, probably at Meg’s by now.’

  ‘He mentioned he
might when I spoke to him this morning. I’m still annoyed at being sent up there. It could have all been done by telephone, and by working with the local police. Now, Masters has got their backs up.’

  ‘Something else I need to share.’ Carlos removed the secretive note from his inside jacket pocket and placed it on the table.

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘I have no clue. No idea who sent it or anything. I haven’t had time to follow it up. I need to find out where the colonel lives, but don’t want to involve Barney and Doreen Milnthorpe any further. Their daughter, who’s a journalist with an interest in Matthew’s case, is also on her way up here.’

  ‘Goodness! That picturesque village is going to be marauded by overenthusiastic busybodies by the sounds of it. What’s her interest? Apart from being a nosy journalist, that is.’

  ‘She went to school with Matthew and never believed he’d run away. No-one would listen to her and she’s had a thing about it ever since, according to her father. They believe his death is an open-and-shut case, so I feel it’s better they don’t know anything about this note.’

  ‘Quite right. Hopefully she’s a fashion reporter or something.’

  ‘Rather a sexist remark, Fiona.’

  ‘You won’t get me being part of the PC brigade. But no, I’m all for women doing great things. I just don’t want her to get in our way, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m going to have to disappoint you. I did an internet search and it turns out she’s an investigative journalist.’

  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? I think I blame it on the mirror I smashed last week!’ Fiona finished her meal and moved her plate to a nearby table which had been vacated. The pub was quieter; it was getting late. ‘Isn’t it wonderful! We have two dead bodies; a government highflyer from Scotland in custody; a mysterious note; a private eye; a short-sighted DCI; and now, a flaming investigative journalist.’ Fiona blew air through her lips.

  ‘You forgot to mention the savvy sergeant and the dog!’ Carlos laughed.

  She grinned. ‘There is that. I need another pint.’

  ‘Lager?’

  ‘Yeah, this pub’s draught lager’s the best there is.’

  Carlos returned with two more drinks and watched as Fiona attended to messages on her phone.

  ‘So what about you? What have you got?’

  ‘Not a lot other than what you know. I ran a check on RTAs about the time of the boy’s disappearance. It came back negative. If he was involved in an accident, it was either minor or not reported. Mind you, record keeping wasn’t the best back then, so the report could have been misfiled or something like that.’

  ‘What about Caroline?’

  ‘The boss’s keeping her in overnight. He’s convinced she’s Harold Sissons’s killer. I’m joining him at the nick to question her tomorrow.’

  ‘So there’s no-one else under suspicion regarding Harold’s murder?’

  ‘Nope. And to be honest, Carlos, she could be spinning you a web of lies. She’s already lied about her whereabouts on the day her father disappeared. Her husband then gives a false statement to cover for her. I don’t need to remind you she also has motive. Motive and opportunity without a concrete alibi.’

  ‘I know all that,’ Carlos snapped. ‘But why kill him now, after all these years? I could understand it if we’d found out about her brother beforehand, but we hadn’t.’

  Fiona’s head shot up from her glass. ‘We hadn’t, but what if she had?’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘What if the person who sent you the note does know something about Matthew’s disappearance and they also contacted Caroline Winslow? You’ve seen her, Carlos. She’s a bomb waiting to explode. All that knee jerking and snapping. Say she knew Harold had killed her brother. As you pointed out, that would have caused something to snap.’

  Carlos leaned back in his chair, putting his pint glass down.

  ‘Okay, so let’s work on that theory. We also know the colonel was previously in love with Meg, and from what I witnessed in church last night, he still is. What if he’s in on it? Colluded with Caroline to put an end to Harold? He may have even done the deed for her.’

  ‘It’s plausible, but I can’t see a reputable citizen getting involved just for the sake of it. Okay, so he might be in love with Meg, but why now? Do you really think that’s what happened?’

  ‘No. But we need to explore the possibility. The only thing is, I’d rather Masters not know about the note for now.’

  ‘Is this about losing face, Carlos? Because if it is, I’m having nothing to do with it. If we have our killer, I’d rather wrap this case up and enjoy my Christmas than protect your machismo.’

  Carlos laughed loudly. ‘Protect my what? You know me better than that. No, it’s not that. When I was with Caroline this morning, she seemed lost. Her whole life has been overshadowed by this control freak who happened to be her father. Three lives have been ruined by that man. I can’t see Meg recovering if her daughter’s sent to prison on top of everything else.’

  ‘I told you you’re going soft. Caroline’s trauma also provides more reason for her to kill him. Break free and start a new life. You’re forgetting she has a loving husband and three children of her own, so she’s not that lost.’

  ‘But these scars run deep. What I saw this morning was a child. A young girl who had tried and failed to protect her mother from a monster. I think if she’d killed him, she would almost be proud to say she had done it, but instead, she had to confess to failing yet again. That sort of failure isn’t easy to acknowledge, either. She’s tormented by grief over her brother and loss of her own childhood and forced alienation from her mother.

  ‘Please, Fiona, let me talk to the colonel before you mention the note. I’ll happily say I kept it from you. You go ahead and push Caroline with your theory and see if she cracks. We have to be certain. I don’t want Caroline Winslow locked up for a crime she didn’t commit just because Masters holds a grudge against me.’

  ‘So what did happen between you and Masters?’

  ‘That’s a conversation for another day.’

  Fiona finished the dregs of her drink. ‘You’ve got until tomorrow evening. I want my Christmas to be peaceful. And you’re also forgetting something, Carlos.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She’s a mother. A mother would not want to leave her children and go to prison without a fight, so she’s not going to confess easily. It’s admirable to be in touch with your feminine side, mate, but don’t let it cloud your judgement. Now, I’m going to the ladies for a wash before returning to the boat.’

  Carlos sat waiting, deep in thought.

  24

  The next morning Carlos noticed the BMW that had been parked on Meg’s driveway when he left for his run was no longer there.

  ‘Good. Let’s take another peek in the garage, Lady.’ He paused at the front door, but assumed if Aiden had left already, Meg must be up. He rapped the brass knocker.

  Moments later, he heard the chain being removed from its place and bolts moving. Meg stood, small and frail in the doorway. Her faraway eyes stared, seeing but not comprehending, he thought.

  ‘Sorry it’s early, Meg. Can I come in?’

  ‘I was about to make tea. Would you like some?’

  ‘That’s very kind of you. Yes, please. Is it all right if my dog comes in too?’

  A moment’s hesitation. ‘Harold didn’t like dogs, but he’s no longer here, so yes, do bring him in.’

  ‘She’s a girl. Lady’s her name.’

  ‘As in Lady and the Tramp?’

  ‘I think so. I inherited her from a friend who emigrated to Australia.’

  ‘I would love to visit Australia.’ Meg headed straight to the kitchen, where she made tea using mugs and tea bags. Understanding there had been much fuss over compulsory tea leaves previously, Carlos was surprised, but didn’t comment.

  ‘I’m told it’s a beautiful country. I haven’t been there myself yet, but hope
to get out to visit him once he and his family are settled.’

  ‘Visit who?’ Meg’s face blanked.

  ‘A friend in Australia… never mind. How are you, Meg? Did your son-in-law stay over?’

  ‘Yes, I’m quite well. My son-in-law’s out at the moment. I can tell him you were looking for him.’

  Carlos took the mug Meg handed to him and followed her through to the lounge. Cautious not to upset her, he sipped the heavily sugared tea and stopped himself gagging.

  Lady went to examine one of a number of empty cartons that were spread about the room.

  ‘Lady’s fascinated by your boxes. Are you having a clear out?’

  ‘Aiden’s helping me to get rid of Harold’s things. No point hanging on to them, is there? He won’t be coming back.’ Meg hummed a tune under her breath.

  ‘It makes sense, but are you sure now’s the time?’

  ‘Time for what?’

  Carlos was losing the battle for her attention, and her clear out was none of his business anyway, so he got to the point.

  ‘I wonder if you would you mind if I took a look in your garage, Meg?’

  ‘That’s Harold’s garage. No-one’s allowed in there,’ she said gravely.

  ‘I don’t think he can object now, Meg,’ he spoke softly.

  ‘No, I suppose not. Martin was in there yesterday. He’s been so kind. He might not like anyone else being in there.’

  ‘Martin Webb? The colonel? Is that who was here when I popped round yesterday?’

  ‘I suppose it must have been. I didn’t see you yesterday.’

  He didn’t see any point in reminding her of his visit yesterday. What the heck was Martin Webb doing in Harold’s garage? ‘I’m sure people won’t mind, Meg. It’s your garage now. It might help me with the investigation into Harold’s death. Is it locked?’ Carlos drained the mug of tea, fighting nausea. He was in a hurry to get into the garage now he knew someone else had been in there.

  ‘The keys are labelled on the hook in the kitchen.’

 

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