Who Killed Anne-Marie?

by CM Thompson

  Grimm looks down to his notepad. They have been compiling a list of who lives in which house.

  House number one belongs to a Fran De Winters – according to Ludmilla Bryski, she is usually away on business for months at a time, which explains the slightly overgrown garden and extra security on the house.

  House number three has no occupant. This house is completely empty and has been for nearly a year now. Maybe now the previous owner will be able to finally sell it.

  “We need to find out who actually owns this house and how desperate they are to sell this house,” Grimm notes.

  House number five belongs to Daniel Mills.

  House number seven belongs to Ludmilla and Paul Bryski. Whilst it is evident that Ludmilla Bryski was tired of Anne-Marie’s temper tantrums, and that living next to the Mills was enough to push even the nicest person to their limits, Ludmilla Bryski had seemed the one most afraid of her neighbour and afraid of confrontation. She preferred to call the police on Anne-Marie rather than deal with her directly. The Bryskis are also very old. At a guess, Grimm would guess late seventies. Whilst they might have the mindset of murder, Grimm doubts that either of them would have the strength to push. Grimm says that if Ludmilla Bryski heard correctly, then this indicates Anne-Marie Mills was still alive when Daniel left the house. But Colvin is quick to point out that Daniel Mills had a few unexplained hours when he was lost. Enough time to leave, come back, kill and leave again unnoticed.

  House number nine rented by David Clark, the only one who gained financially from Anne-Marie Mills being alive. He thought he saw two houses with the doors open, but wasn’t sure as he was rushing to work at the time. He said he had never met Anne-Marie or Daniel Mills, something that seemed suspicious given Anne-Marie’s notoriety. David Clark had also given them the name and contact details of the person he is renting the house from, Colvin thinks this will be another dead end.

  House number ten belongs to a Penelope “Lying Penny” Cooper. A little background research showed that “Lying Penny” wasn’t completely unknown to the police. There was a complaint on file from her about the house next door, number eight, Don and Gloria Hutchings. According to the complaint, the Hutchings had the audacity to do a little DIY work at 6pm on a Sunday and Ms Cooper had immediately filed a noise complaint. Grimm had Ms Cooper pegged as the local busybody, the nosy parker, there was usually one in every neighbourhood. Interestingly, there were several complaints listed from her, grievances such as littering, other noise complaints, behaviour complaints. But no complaints against Anne-Marie. She was one of the few neighbours who hadn’t filed a complaint against Anne-Marie Mills. Grimm looks forward to meeting Ms Cooper, just for the entertainment relief.

  House number eight belongs to Don and Gloria Hutchings. They currently know nothing about this household, except that they did their own DIY and didn’t answer the door.

  House number six – Laura and Derrick Noble and their young daughters, Chante and Lenore. Colvin thinks that there is a possibility that Laura or the unseen Derrick could have done something, people do strange things to protect their kids. Laura did seem slightly nervous to Colvin.

  “Who vacuums for four hours?” she asks Grimm.

  “When you have two young children interrupting, it’s not unusual,” Grimm says with a quiet air of personal suffering. Grimm thinks that Laura was another ditzy blonde, another overworked mum.

  House number four, Mrs Bryski thought it belonged to “Susie” but knew nothing else. The officers couldn’t decide if someone lived in the house now or not. It didn’t look abandoned but it wasn’t exactly cared for either. They will have to do some research.

  House number two, rented by Michael and John Fox. Ludmilla Bryski had told them that this nice couple are currently on holiday to Barcelona and they won’t be back for another week. She knew because she is looking after their house plants. They weren’t completely off the hook until the airline confirmed they had really left, but they were unlikely.

  It is possible that anyone from the neighbourhood entered the Mills’ home yesterday, especially as it seemed that Anne-Marie Mills was in the habit of leaving her front door unlocked, sometimes even wide open. Not only could anyone from the neighbourhood have just walked in, pushed Anne-Marie Mills down the stairs and walked out again, but it is also possible that an opportunist burglar was in the area, saw an open door and took the opportunity. They could have become enraged when they found nothing in the house worth stealing. They could have been surprised by Anne-Marie Mills and her violent temper. Both officers know that anyone could have just walked into the Mills’ house yesterday afternoon, anyone.

  The officers wait a few more moments in the car. It is more overcast today but still warm, a soothing relief from the previous hot, humid days. They can hear a bird tweeting close by, but no other sounds. They have been sat in the car for nearly twenty minutes now and have seen no one, nothing apart from a few curtain twitches. This is a quiet area, Colvin thinks, very little foot traffic coming through, no cars except for those who live here. A noise like Anne-Marie would travel far here, no doubt someone must have heard more than they were willing to talk about.

  “Let’s go into the house.”

  They stand outside for a few moments. Grimm notices that Colvin is inhaling deeply a few times. He understands why when she unlocks the door. The smell that was strong yesterday is even stronger today and they are reluctant to close the front door behind them. They move hastily through the living room into the kitchen, as Colvin wanted to take a second look at the post on the kitchen table. As she remembered, in the pile of bills there is a credit card bill. She reads it more carefully this time, noting that the bill lists over fifteen different transactions, costing between £50 to £ but the charges are from only two places, the local supermarket and the corner shop.

  They tread carefully as they head upstairs, both trying to hold their breath. They carefully run their hands over the first floor hallway carpet, looking for anything that might have caused Anne-Marie to trip, a piece of loose carpet perhaps. But nothing. They move again into what was Anne-Marie’s bedroom. It feels even darker than before. The half-empty tequila bottle still sits in the centre of the room, waiting for its drinker to come back. A child’s screech intrudes on the silent room. Grimm, who is standing close to the window, tweaks the blinds to see Laura taking her daughters out. Both children are laughing and squawking loudly as they pass the house. Colvin understands why they drove Anne-Marie mad. This room, with its baby blue walls and elephant curtains, was clearly intended for a child, not for Anne-Marie, and every shriek that came from those happy children was just another reminder of something she didn’t have.

  Grimm pulls out one of the storage boxes under the bed, the plastic tub making a crunching, scratching noise as it glides over the broken glass. On the first look the box contains nothing but spare towels, but underneath the towels, hidden carefully, are two full litre bottles of vodka. Colvin wonders if Anne-Marie had put them there then forgot about them or if Daniel had put them there. It felt like nothing, but also important at the same time. She decides to process them anyway, sliding them carefully into an evidence bag. Grimm raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Nothing is quite right in this case, it is best not to miss anything, no matter how unimportant it may feel. They take the mostly empty tequila bottle this time too, careful not to smear anything. Grimm wonders aloud why the forensics team hadn’t taken it. Colvin shrugs, no doubt they had taken quite a few other alcohol bottles as evidence.

  They stare for a while at the blood explosion on the hallway carpet.

  “By the looks of it, she stood here for a few moments,” Colvin says, gesturing to the larger drops and smears in the doorway of the spare room. “Then she moved towards the stairs and stood there before the incident occurred.”

  “So she could have stood in the doorway, thinking about jumping, and then walked forward, paused and then jumped,” Grimm says, thinking back to their earlier
conversation.

  “Or she could have stood here, talking to someone, and then tried to leave as someone pushed her down the stairs.”

  “Or she could have had a dizzy spell, leant on the doorway for support, then staggered to the stairs, world spinning as she fell forward.” A thoughtful pause and then Grimm continues: “She may have even confused the stairs for the bathroom, judging by how drunk she was.”

  “They are all possible options, aren’t they?”

  Grimm nods in agreement.

  “Damn it,” she mutters.

  Grimm again nods in agreement.

  They take one last look at the master bedroom, Grimm whistling softly at the devastation. Colvin takes a closer look at the wardrobe, noting that Anne-Marie’s clothes aren’t in the spare room, they were still in here, a sign perhaps that this altered sleeping arrangement were not thought of as permanent? Or perhaps just another job no one cared enough to do.

  Neither Anne-Marie nor Daniel has what Grimm refers to as dating clothes. Nothing special that you would wear to meet a secret lover. Colvin doubts that either of the Mills have brought any new clothes in the last three years. They seemed to be content with the same old, same old. She thinks back to her theory about houses and their occupants, that most houses reflect the personalities of their owner or owners. This house was bland and showed no evidence that either of its occupants ever aspired to anything more. But then it is hard to think of Anne-Marie as a person, as someone who once had dreams or hopes, especially as everything that she had once owned was now in shards.

  They had searched everywhere for Daniel Mills’ mobile phone but no success. It is only as they are leaving that Grimm spots a small black object, nicely camouflaged in the soil of a half-dead house plant by the front door. It is Daniel’s mobile with two missed calls and one voicemail.

  Chapter Ten

  The corner shop is a shop of last resorts. A barely surviving relic, kept alive only by convenience. As they open the door a curious stale odour of dust and old sweets is released. One of the most miserable-looking females that Colvin has ever seen greets them with a nervous but friendly, “Hello.” She quickly drops the smile as they come close to the counter, one glance at their badges and she turns miserably to the floor for guidance. She knows they are not here to buy any pick and mix.

  “I am Officer Grimm, Grimm by name but not by nature,” Grimm says with a wink, trying to reassure the slightly shaking mass that she is not in trouble. This is his best joke, it usually gets a couple of nervous laughs but from her, nothing, just the sense that she is about to secrete a tear or five.

  She closes her eyes, swallows hard and through gritted teeth, introduces herself as Margie. She flinches as Grimm reaches his hand into his folder, pulling out one of the better photos of Anne-Marie Mills.

  “Margie, do you know this lady, Mrs Anne-Marie Mills?” he asks gently. This is a test. They know she does, that’s why they are here. She hesitates, trying to decide whether to tell the truth or lie. It will do the shop no good either way.

  “Yes,” she eventually squeaks.

  “When did you last see Mrs Mills?”

  “Yest’day.”

  “Do you remember what time yesterday?” Grimm couldn’t help himself with the automatic correction. This is what having children has done to him. Margie, who looks like she wishes the floor would swallow either her or them, didn’t notice.

  It isn’t Margie’s fault. She and her husband had tried to ban Anne-Marie Mills after several thefts, attempted thefts and verbal abuse, but the ban didn’t help. It only made the verbal abuse worse. The un-ban came when Daniel finally visited, paying for the bottles they knew she had stolen, apologising repeatedly and slipped them quite a few extra notes for damages. Daniel had all but begged on his knees for the ban to be lifted, promised that if they noticed her stealing anything else, he would pay for it.

  “She is not well,” he had said. “We are getting her help. Please don’t call the police on her, she is not well,” he repeated between apologies. Luckily for him, Margie hates confrontation as much as Daniel does, and her husband is too busy screwing the barber to really care. Truth be told, Anne-Marie Mills is one of her best customers, money-wise. Margie couldn’t really afford to ban her again.

  “Three o clock.” Ah shit, that just made everything a little more complicated, Colvin thinks, if Anne-Marie was still alive at three o clock then that rules out a few theories.

  Margie remembers the time well. Anne-Marie had stormed in just as Margie had been about to close for a quick break. The smell of Anne-Marie and her stained pyjamas had made Margie feel sick. At the time she just wanted to get Anne-Marie out of her shop as quickly as possible, she always wants to get Anne-Marie Mills out of her shop as quickly as possible, before anything gets broken.

  “What kind of state was Mrs Mills in?” Guilt pours into Margie’s face, her voice trembles as she speaks. “Very angry,” she says meekly.

  Grimm stays silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “She was very drunk.” Margie had taken one look at Anne-Marie’s angry eyes and wished she had something to protect herself with. Wished her husband would agree to installing a panic alarm, despite the costs. Margie should have refused to serve her, it was in her legal rights. Both Margie and Anne-Marie knew that she would agree to anything Anne-Marie wanted, yet again. One of the reasons Margie was so afraid about talking to the officers is because she is worried that she would lose her license as selling alcohol to someone already intoxicated is a big no-no. But if she refused to sell, then who knows what Anne-Marie Mills would do. She never has taken no for an answer. It was easier to give her what she wanted, then she would go away again, at least for a day or two. Anne-Marie Mills had snarled at Margie, then pointed at the bottles she wanted, giving Margie a clear view of her wrists. “She had two really large bruises on her wrists.” Margie hopes this information will distract the officers from the drunk remark, she really can’t afford to lose her alcohol license.

  Margie had nearly wet herself with fear when Anne-Marie snatched the bottles from her hands. “My husband will pay for these later,” she had growled and Margie didn’t dare disagree. She knew Daniel Mills would pay and even if he didn’t, it was still cheaper to let Anne-Marie take two bottles than argue with her. On one occasion, Anne-Marie had destroyed nearly a hundred pounds worth of merchandise when she had been told no. Margie couldn’t bear the thought of another fight with Anne-Marie. She was filled with a sense of dread every time the shop door opened, just in case it was Anne-Marie, or her mother. She opened the shop every morning with a nervous shake and locked it each night with a hurried relief. Countless times she had begged her husband to sell the shop, she begged for an assistant or a security guard and got nothing but empty promises.

  “Can you describe these bruises?”

  Margie is too scared now to think of the right words, she gestures with her hands, marking a stripe on each wrist.

  “What did she buy?”

  “Tequila and vodka.” Margie didn’t want to point out that she hadn’t really brought them. Colvin notices that Margie doesn’t ask them why they are here; just like everyone they have spoken to, they automatically assume that Anne-Marie Mills has got herself into another mess.

  “How frequently does Mrs Mills buy alcohol from you?”

  “Erm …” Margie looks to the floor again, “most days.”

  Grimm asks Margie a few more questions and receives a few short responses. He tells Margie that Mrs Mills is dead and Margie starts to cry. Colvin can’t quite tell if she is crying out of relief or sadness or both.

  They are here because Daniel’s discarded phone had a voicemail from Shop Margie: “Hi Mr Mills, this is Margie … Margie from the shop .. erm … Mrs Mills came to the shop again today … she has taken two bottles on credit … I am sorry … but she … if you could come down and urm yes. Thankyougoodbye!”

  Margie just didn’t have the heart or the attitude, even in a voicema
il, to say you owe me money, please come and pay. Nor the spine to ever refuse Anne-Marie. Nor the concern to mention the bruises to anyone. What was she supposed to say? Your wife is messed up and scary? Please can you stop her coming in?

  Behind Margie, just slightly out of sight, but still well positioned, Grimm notices the red flickering light of a CCTV camera.

  “Do you have the recording from yesterday?” he asks, motioning up towards it.

  “Yes.”

  The video footage from the shop’s CCTV clearly shows Anne-Marie Mills alive and furious at 3 pm on Thursday, 18th July. She moves quickly but in a slightly wobbly manner towards the camera. Even through the grainy footage, Colvin can see Margie’s body straighten in shock and then shake with terror. Colvin watches Anne-Marie snatch the bottles, unknowingly showing the camera her wrist bruises, and then she stumbles slightly as she turns and staggers out of the shop at five minutes past three.

  Well this changes most of their theories. Now they believe that Daniel left the house around midday, they know Anne-Marie was heard smashing up the master bedroom room as he was leaving or shortly after. But now they have her visiting the corner shop at 3 pm, then presumably going straight back home to drink more, before she decided to destroy her own room. If she had destroyed her own room before coming to the corner shop, then Margie would have seen a blood trail on her shop floor and there would also be a slight blood trail in the streets. This is presuming that all the blood splatters in the spare room are Anne-Marie’s and presuming that Anne-Marie did smash her own room. Which, judging by the numerous cuts detailed in the autopsy report and the amount of glass lodged in her body, is very likely. One small comfort would be that Anne-Marie was too drunk to feel anything more than a stinging pain. The officers read through the autopsy notes again, still trying to make sense of it all.

  Cause of death: subdural haematoma

  Manner of death: undetermined

  The autopsy had not been easy.