by Dawn Brookes
Carlos traipsed the streets of Bakewell, going in and out of every café, showing as many staff as he could the photo of Caroline. It was highly unlikely that anyone would remember seeing her, but he had to try. He was almost at the end of his search. There were only three more places on his list to get to.
Entering a small patisserie, he ordered a Bakewell tart and tea after drawing a blank with the owner over the picture. He hadn’t eaten lunch, so sat down for a break before he headed off to the final two cafés.
A customer came in, a young woman, and the owner chatted easily with her. Then Carlos heard her cry out and saw her hand go to her head.
‘I’ll be blessed!’ she exclaimed. ‘Betsy, you worked on Thursday a couple of weeks back, didn’t you…? Hey Mister, show Betsy that photo. This gentleman’s looking for someone who might have come in that day.’
Carlos joined the women at the counter and showed the picture to younger one.
‘Yeah. She was in here.’
‘Can you be sure of the date?’ Carlos asked.
‘Yeah, I covered for Mrs Browning. You had an appointment, din’t ya?’ the girl called Betsy said to the café owner. ‘She hardly takes any time off, you see, so I remember. Could do with taking more time off, mind.’
‘Betsy, the photo,’ Mrs Browning encouraged.
‘Oh yeah. That woman,’ she nodded to the photo, ‘came in twice. Place was empty ’cos we’d run out of cake, but I kept it open for drinks and stuff just like Mrs Browning said I had to.’
‘And you are sure it was this woman?’
‘Yeah, it was her. Stressed out, she was. Looked like she was going to burst into tears any minute. Ordered black coffee so I knew she was upset, like. I mean, you wouldn’t drink black coffee unless you were stressed, would ya? By the shape of her, she could have done with some of Mrs Browning’s cake. She wore a business suit. We don’t get many of them business types in here. When she came back the second time, she’d been bawling. Eyes were red and swollen. She asked if she could use the ladies. I know you say it’s customer use only, Mrs Browning, but I figured as she’d been in earlier, it would be okay.’
‘Yes, that’s fine, Betsy.’
‘Can you remember what time she left?’ Carlos asked, crossing his fingers.
‘Five fifty-nine. I was watching the clock. We close at six. I ended up closing twelve minutes late ’cos she took so long in the loo and I had to check everything after she’d gone and wipe down. When she did come out, she had fresh makeup on. Taking the mick, I thought at the time, but as she was upset, I didn’t say anything. I din’t mention it, Mrs Browning. Sorry.’ The girl’s eyes widened.
‘That’s all right, Betsy. You get off now or you’ll be late home. I’ll let this gentleman have your details if he needs to contact you again. He’s a private detective.’
Betsy’s eyes popped out of her head as she turned and scuttled quickly out of the shop.
‘Not the brightest, but she’s good with numbers, so she covers for me if I take time off.’
‘Good with faces, too. Thank you. If I could take her name and contact details in case the police want to get in touch. She’s been a great help – please tell her that, will you?’
‘I’ll be sure to mention it.’
‘One more question: where would the lady have parked to come here?’
‘Turn right outside and the car park’s a few minutes’ walk. That’s why we get so many tourists in here. Ideal for people after a long drive.’
Carlos thanked Mrs Browning. After tucking Betsy’s details in his wallet, he found the car park easily and scanned the area. Just as he’d hoped: CCTV cameras!
He walked south to the car park where he’d left his own car and drove in the direction of Shady Woods.
Carlos spotted Fiona’s distinctive pale blue mac from a distance and headed that way. An officer tried to stop him, but he showed his ID and told him he needed to speak with Fiona. It was almost dark and the police looked to be winding down their search.
‘Have you found anything?’
‘Not yet, just the old boy’s wallet,’ she said loud enough to be heard by a few officers packing up a car.
Carlos raised an eyebrow.
‘Don’t say anything. Remember, I was sent on a wasted journey to Edinburgh. Things haven’t stopped since,’ she muttered.
‘So no planted evidence, then?’ He also lowered his voice.
She frowned. ‘I felt terrible thinking the DCI would stoop to it, but he really hates your guts. Caroline Winslow has found herself in the firing line because of whatever it is between you two. I couldn’t have that.’
Before Carlos had the opportunity to ask what she meant by the comment, an irate Masters yelled, ‘COOK!’
‘Looks like I’m in the doghouse.’ She shrugged, walking over to her boss. Carlos had no problem hearing the DCI’s loud voice because all the officers scattered for fear they might be next.
‘What’s he doing here? I gave specific instructions…’
Carlos crept closer so he could hear more of the conversation.
‘He’s just arrived, sir. I told you it’s a small village. Word gets around.’
‘Damn woman’s been released. Some fancy lawyer from Edinburgh called the Chief Super. No idea what was said, but we had to let her go. Not for long, though.’ He smirked. Carlos saw him eyeing the woods. ‘Did you find it… erm… anything?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Carlos had crept up to within a few feet now and both he and Fiona observed a cynical smile cross Masters’s face.
‘Where is it?’
‘You haven’t asked what it is we found,’ said Fiona pointedly.
‘Well? What is it?’
‘The dead man’s wallet, sir.’
Carlos saw the redness rising from Masters’s neck and the jugular vein swelling. For a brief moment, he thought of how he’d love to stop the blood flowing through that man’s body. He shook his head violently, causing pain to shoot through it back to front.
‘Is that all?’
‘That’s all for now, sir. The search leader’s just called it off until after the weekend. Says we don’t have the manpower to work over the bank holidays.’
‘Then I’ll continue the search myself. You can come with me. That woman’s guilty and there’s evidence here somewhere…’
Carlos interrupted, ‘Actually, she’s not guilty.’
‘Just because you say it doesn’t make it true, Jacobi!’ Masters yelled. He tried to march into the woods. Carlos blocked his path.
‘Get out of my way,’ Masters pushed Carlos, but he held firm.
‘Mrs Winslow’s alibi checks out.’
Both Fiona and Masters stared at him, Fiona fighting to ward off a smile.
‘Really? What have you got?’
‘I found a witness who places her in a café in Bakewell at the time of Harold Sissons’s disappearance. Swears to it and would be happy to say so in court.’ He didn’t know that was the case, but added it for effect. ‘There’s also CCTV cameras in the car park where Mrs Winslow parked, a few minutes away from the patisserie,’ he added. ‘You can request footage, or I can.’
‘We’ll do that, Mr Jacobi,’ said Fiona. ‘Let’s hope the search gives us a lead on whoever did this, sir. Shall we get on and finish it together now?’
Masters’s face had turned purple. Carlos could see from the tension he was incandescent with rage, but he controlled himself.
‘No, Cook. That won’t be necessary, it’s Christmas Eve. You’d better take a statement from Jacobi here and confirm details. I’ll have a quick look around myself. You go.’
‘Happy to stay and help, sir.’
‘Go, Cook!’
‘Right, sir. Mr Jacobi, is it okay if I take a statement at your sister’s house? Its freezing out here – looks like rain.’ She grinned at Carlos as Masters stomped off into the woods.
‘I guess he’s gone to retrieve that planted evidence, judging by the
look on your face.’
‘He won’t find it.’ She pulled a scarf from her pocket. ‘What’s the betting this belongs to Caroline Winslow?’
‘He’ll know you’ve got it,’ he warned. ‘Watch your back.’
‘And he’d better watch his from now on. He won’t dare challenge me on it. Anyone could have picked it up – even you. I’m satisfied, for now, he won’t know who he can trust.’
‘You’re right. Nice one, Fiona.’
‘I wish I had enough evidence to report him to internal affairs; I wouldn’t normally rat on fellow officers, but I could make an exception in his case. I’ll be watching him closely from now on, and if I find anything else, he’s gone. That’s if I don’t need a favour.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I’ll tell you over dinner.’
They drove separately back to Sophie’s and pulled up just as Caroline arrived next door with Aiden.
‘Good to see you home,’ said Carlos.
‘Thank you. Apparently, a renowned defence lawyer from Edinburgh heard about my case. I don’t know how he found out, but he called Aiden to ask if he could represent me. They faxed a form to the station, which I signed. The next thing I know, I’m free.’
Caroline grinned widely. Aiden took her hand.
‘What’s more, he’s representing my wife for free. I offered to pay, although I’ve now looked him up and he usually represents corporate clients, so would cost a fortune. There are rumours he gets people off who should be in jail.’
‘Well, let’s just be thankful he’s got a philanthropic side to him,’ said Caroline.
As Carlos turned back to Fiona, he whispered, ‘That’s going to cost you big someday. You realise that, don’t you?’
She smiled grimly. ‘I knew the terms. Masters would have stopped at nothing.’
Carlos took her hand. ‘I wish I’d verified the alibi sooner.’
‘Not nearly as much as I do.’
‘When it does come back to bite, know that I’m here. I’ll help in whatever way I can.’
‘Thanks, Carlos. As I said, I accepted the terms. Steve tried to talk me out of it.’
That fact worried Carlos more than anything else he’d heard since his unlucky reintroduction to Masters. Fiona had done this for him. Now he would do whatever it took not to let her pay. Any elation he’d felt over confirming the alibi and rubbing Masters’s nose in it was lost in fear over what the involvement of a dodgy lawyer could cost Fiona further down the road.
30
Cooking aromas came from the kitchen as Carlos and Fiona let themselves in to Sophie’s. Lady threw herself at him before enthusiastically greeting Fiona.
‘Just so you don’t feel left out,’ Carlos laughed.
He found Sophie in the kitchen, checking the oven.
‘Smells delicious.’ He kissed his sister when she stood up.
‘Lasagne. Hello, Fiona – come in, I’ll pour some coffee. Have you two solved the case yet?’
Sophie’s bubbly demeanour made Carlos feel better. He grinned.
‘Not quite, but the good news is Caroline’s been released. We just saw her on our way in.’
‘Meg will be pleased, as will Caroline’s husband. He was asking where you were earlier, Fiona. Would you like to stay for dinner? There’s plenty to go round.’
‘I’d love to. We’ve got work to do, so that would be great. I love lasagne.’
You love anything edible, Carlos wanted to say, but refrained.
‘How did the search in the woods go?’ asked Sophie. ‘Don’t give me one of your looks, Carlos. This is a small community. I happened to be in the store this afternoon. It was the main topic of conversation, along with the arrest of Colonel Webb. The villagers are worried it will mar the reputation of their tranquil home. Which reminds me: a reporter was here this afternoon, asking questions. I sent her next door to speak to Aiden.’
Carlos frowned. ‘Was it the vicar’s daughter?’
‘Why would it be the Milnthorpes’ daughter?’ Sophie enquired.
‘She’s a reporter and she knew Matthew. They went to school together. Barney warned me she had a personal interest in the case and would be up here. It was too much to expect her to leave it alone, I suppose. I’d be interested to talk to her, because she’s the only one who thought Matthew’s disappearance was suspicious all those years ago. Odd that no-one else challenged Harold’s story.’
Carlos sat at the kitchen table with his coffee. Fiona joined him.
‘You’ve just reminded me, I pulled Matthew’s case files. I was going to look at them before the DCI sent me down here. Hang on, I’ll get them from the car.’ Fiona got up and headed for the door. ‘Did I tell you he died from multiple fractures and a crush injury?’ she called back on her way out.
‘You did,’ he replied.
‘Poor boy,’ said Sophie. ‘And poor Meg having to go through the loss of a son and a husband. Whatever we may think of Harold Sissons, she was devoted to him.’
‘That’s questionable. “Shackled” would be the word I’d use.’ Carlos frowned. ‘I hate bullies.’ His anger with Masters bubbled up, never far from the surface over the past few days. ‘When I saw Masters this afternoon, I wanted to kill him, Soph. The strength of feeling frightened me.’
Sophie sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. ‘But you didn’t. And you wouldn’t. However, whatever happened between you two, you need to talk to someone about it.’
‘You’re right. I will. When this case is over.’
The door slammed. Sophie raised her eyebrows.
‘Heavy-handed, your friend.’
‘Sorry.’ He smiled.
‘Here they are.’ Fiona put the files down on the kitchen table. Sophie stayed put as they pored through the documents.
‘There’s not much here, is there?’ Carlos scowled. ‘A twelve-year-old boy goes missing and they don’t do a search or anything. They took Sissons’s word about the argument and assumed the boy would turn up in Edinburgh, or be found making his way there.’
Fiona read through the interviews. ‘Now this one’s interesting. Just when I’d concluded Colonel Webb wasn’t involved, look at this statement:
‘“Colonel Martin Webb says he met Matthew at the bus stop on the afternoon of his disappearance.” It says here: “Matthew seemed angry and upset and told the colonel he was going to stay with his sister”.’ Fiona looked up.
‘So Webb was mixed up in the boy’s death after all. Let’s think about this. Say Matthew did have an argument with Harold and stormed out. Webb’s place is on the way out of the village. What if it was him who ran the boy over. Panicked. Hid the body somewhere to decompose, and later, when things got bad between him and Harold, he got access to the house and placed the holdall under the floorboards.’
‘What a horrible thing to do,’ gasped Sophie. ‘I can’t believe it of the colonel. He’s abrupt, even rude at times, but I can’t imagine him ever doing such a thing. Surely, if it was an accident, he would have just called the police or an ambulance?’
‘He’s not a harmless old man, though, is he? I bet you wouldn’t have believed he would slam a spade into my head. Twice.’
The conversation was interrupted as the front door opened. A waft of air blew through the open-plan lounge-diner into the kitchen.
Sophie jumped up. ‘Put those away. No talk of murder over dinner, okay? Tesoro!’ She ran to greet her husband.
Fiona obediently packed the papers back in the file and surveyed the kitchen.
‘I love this kitchen. Big, but not too big. The boat’s not ideal for entertaining, but I can stretch to the occasional meal for one.’
Carlos smiled at his friend. ‘When the takeaways are closed, you mean?’
She laughed. ‘Yeah. You’re right. Domestic goddess I’m not, but I have other talents.’
‘Such as protecting those you care about.’ He eyed her seriously.
‘Not so much a talent as a
weakness. Let’s put work aside for tonight, shall we?’
Carlos was happy to do so. Even he was shocked that Masters would plant evidence. But then again, Masters hadn’t owned up to failing in his duty on that fateful day. Carlos’s hand went to the back of his head. Every time he thought about it, a pain shot through his head.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Fiona. ‘That bump causing you trouble?’
‘It’s nothing.’
Sophie burst into the kitchen with Gary on her arm.
‘Let the festivities begin!’
Gary grinned adoringly down at his wife. ‘Here’s an early Christmas present for us from Rolls Royce.’
Sophie took the piece of paper from his hands and her mouth dropped open.
‘What’s this?’
‘My bonus for finishing the project on time.’ Gary laughed. ‘Hello, Carlos. Hello again, Sergeant.’
‘Fiona, please. Carlos and I are old friends. Anyway, I’m eating with you, so best not to be formal.’
‘What are you doing tomorrow, Fiona?’ Sophie asked, a concerned expression on her face.
‘I’m officially on call, so I’ll be home.’
‘On a boat,’ added Carlos.
‘That’s settled, then. Why don’t you join us for Christmas dinner? You and Carlos can talk shop beforehand while Gary helps me.’
‘I wouldn’t want to intrude,’ Fiona eyed Carlos for help.
‘Great idea,’ he concurred.
‘Okay, thank you. I will,’ Fiona beamed from ear to ear.
The doorbell took away any awkwardness Fiona might have been feeling. Gary went to answer.
‘Carlos, it’s for you.’
Carlos found Caroline waiting in the hallway. ‘I just wanted to let you know we’re driving up to Edinburgh this evening. I need to see my children and don’t want to stay here any longer. We’re taking Mother with us. Please, Mr Jacobi… Carlos, find out who did this. I want this nightmare over.’
‘I’ll do everything I can. And don’t worry, you won’t be taken in again. I managed to track down your alibi this afternoon. Sorry I didn’t tell you before. I found a girl who remembers seeing you in the café on the day your father disappeared, and if needed, we can get CCTV footage from the car park.’