The Kat and Mouse Murder Mysteries Box Set

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The Kat and Mouse Murder Mysteries Box Set Page 75

by Anita Waller


  Luke tried so hard not to smile, but he saw Mouse’s roll of her eyes, and was lost. The smile became a guffaw, and he felt he had to apologise. ‘I’ll scan them into a file, and send it to each hard drive,’ he explained. ‘That’s what Kat’s trying to say.’

  Doris patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry, Luke, we understood. So shall we listen to the recording now?’

  A disgruntled Kat reached for the recorder. She thought she was getting on top of this computer stuff. She pressed play, and they sat around with notepads, each of them making the occasional comment on the paper for discussion later.

  They reached the end, and Kat stood to replenish drinks. She handed the coffees around, and then sat quietly, thinking.

  ‘Luke?’

  He glanced down at the page in front of him. ‘Why does she buy her sister a Christmas present if she doesn’t have anything to do with her? It seems strange. And from what she says, it could be a two-year gap between seeing each other, and yet they exchange Christmas gifts? I don’t get it.’ He glanced around the table. ‘That’s just first thoughts from listening to that. Sorry.’

  Mouse smiled at him. She was getting to like him more and more every day. ‘Look.’ She pushed her own notebook across to him. It said Christmas presents? Why?

  He high-fived her.

  ‘I agree with Luke,’ Mouse said. ‘There’s something not ringing true. I could understand it if there had been Christmas presents for children involved, but with the disappearance of Danny, that left Debbie the only one to have children. How old is Debbie’s daughter?’

  ‘Bridie? About ten or eleven.’

  ‘Which means she was born when Danny went missing. Maybe the explanation is simple. Maybe Nicola felt she had to continue the exchange of gifts because of the children, so Debbie felt she had to send something to Nicola. I’m sure we all send a Christmas gift or card to someone we really don’t care about.’ Mouse paused. ‘So do we take it on? Are we comfortable with it? We’ll have to bring Tessa and Hannah in on this decision, and take bloody good care not to impact on their investigation. And, Kat Rowe, no bodies. You know Tessa has the face on with us if we give her corpses.’

  Doris smiled. ‘Corpses aren’t good for business. I propose we do take it on, that Luke scans this lot into a file, and we spend tomorrow going through it and familiarising ourselves with everything. Then we’ll send Mouse into the undergrowth of the Internet to see what we can track down. Luke, how far do you want to be involved with this? You can man the office for us, or you can go out into the field and accompany us. I’m conscious that you’re very new and I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.’

  ‘I need to accompany you. You promised full training on the advert,’ he said with a huge smile. ‘That’s what I want.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s have a vote, girls. Take it on or leave it alone. Luke, you can’t vote in this.’

  He willed them to say take it on. To his deep satisfaction, they did.

  Kat spoke to Debbie, explained the costs involved, and said they would be returning the carrier bag full of documents as soon as they had been scanned into the computer. She had written the word “scanned” on to her notepad before making the call. It wouldn’t help if clients thought she was a numpty when it came to technology.

  To Kat’s surprise, Debbie burst into tears. ‘You’ve made me a very happy person,’ she blubbered. ‘Find Danny and Adam for me, please, Kat.’

  ‘I promise we’ll try. You need to understand he’s been missing for ten years, and picking up any sort of trail won’t be easy, but we’ll give it everything we’ve got.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Kat.’

  Kat replaced the receiver and frowned. Unease still sat heavily on her, but she had no idea why.

  Kat walked across to the church and leaned against the back pew, surveying the interior. She loved the place, found peace and solace there, and also did a lot of thinking – usually on the third pew from the front.

  She headed down the aisle towards it, dropped a kneeler to the floor, and dipped her head in prayer. All sounds disappeared and she remained kneeling for five minutes, before she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Thank you, Kat, for looking after him,’ the woman said, turned and almost ran down the aisle, as if embarrassed at disturbing someone immersed so deeply in prayer. Just for a moment Kat’s brain went into freefall, and she eased herself back onto the seat.

  ‘Craig’s mum!’ Kat said aloud. ‘Sally Adams.’ Craig Adams had been the first person to be murdered by Leon, and when Kat discovered just how evil her husband had been she’d promised Sally she would take care of her son’s grave. Sally lived some distance away and as a non-driver, couldn’t get easily to Eyam churchyard where Craig had been laid to rest next to his father.

  Kat sat for a short time, her thoughts drifting back to two years earlier when her world had begun to implode. On discovering what Leon had done, and had been doing for a long time, she had got through the whole horrific period with the help of Mouse and Doris, and her parents.

  That was the moment she knew that they had to give everything to try to find Daniel Armstrong. He was still a minor; they had no idea what his life was like. He may be in a good place, and if so, they could tell him about his aunt and give him the choice of whether to return to meet her or not; but similarly, he could be in a bad place, without choices.

  Kat said a silent thank you to her god, and left the sanctuary of the church to return to the office.

  ‘I’m going home,’ Kat announced. ‘I need to feel Martha’s arms around me. She stayed at Mum’s last night, and I need her now. Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ Doris said with a laugh. ‘Kat Rowe, get lost. And bring her here tomorrow, we all miss her.’

  ‘I haven’t even seen her yet,’ Luke said. ‘Can she switch on a computer?’

  ‘Depends whose genes she got more of,’ Kat said with a smile. ‘If it’s mine, then the answer is probably no. You going to teach her?’

  ‘In time,’ he said gravely.

  ‘Joel? It’s me.’

  ‘Mouse, I know. It said so on my phone screen.’

  ‘Smart arse.’

  He laughed. ‘You want something, beautiful lady?’

  ‘Yes, you. But that’s what I’m ringing about. I can’t come to Manchester tomorrow. We’ve taken on a biggish new case that I need to be here for. So I’ll have to forego those long tanned legs, that stunningly beautiful chest, the amazing kisses, and…’

  ‘Whoa! Are you in the office with anybody?’

  ‘Only Nan.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stop panicking,’ Mouse laughed. ‘It’s just me. You want to make your way over to Eyam, big boy? Maybe at the weekend?’

  ‘Let me see if I can rearrange something that’s booked in for Saturday, before I make a firm commitment. So the answer is yes, I do want to make my way over to Eyam, but I can’t say I can do it for definite yet. That okay?’

  ‘It’ll do. I’m missing you.’

  ‘I know. I’ll work something out. Gotta go, I’m late for a conference call. Love you, Mouse.’

  He disconnected and she stared at her phone. Love you. Had he really just said that? Love you. That sounded so good, she felt she could maybe get used to hearing it.

  She put down the phone, swivelled her chair to stare out the window, and whispered, ‘Love you too, Joel.’

  11

  Harry Hardy walked into the kitchens of Chatsworth and helped himself to a bacon sandwich, the bacon topped with tomatoes that soaked rapidly into the huge breadcake.

  He headed over to the table in the corner and glanced up at the clock. Nearly nine and he was bang on time. He could take his half-hour break, then go and meet up with the chap from the horticultural company who wanted to see around the greenhouses. He apparently could supply Chatsworth with all their gardening needs… Harry grinned to himself. The idiot couldn’t possibly have any idea of the scale of requirements for the huge area that made up the
Chatsworth estate. Still, it was part of his job to meet up with all salespeople, so meet up he would.

  He’d had an interesting hour chatting to the assorted police personnel working in the large room down the corridor from the kitchens. He’d given his statement, signed it, then talked for a while about the stages they were at.

  There had been some admiration for the fact that he had been at Chatsworth all his working life, and would be there until the Duke made him retire.

  ‘I simply can’t imagine working anywhere else,’ he admitted, when PC Fiona Ainsworth finished with his statement. ‘I’m happy with my work, it’s mainly all outdoors, and nobody bothers me. I know the job, know what has to be done, and my employers are amazing.’

  ‘Do you see much of the Duke?’ Fiona asked.

  ‘Every day at some point. He keeps a close eye on the running of the place. I think he’s quite taken by the change this murder has brought into Chatsworth, but don’t tell him I said that,’ Harry said with a laugh. ‘Have you taken young Davy’s statement?’

  ‘We have, it didn’t take long. He didn’t find her, so it was more making sure he didn’t touch the body at all, that sort of thing.’

  He nodded. ‘I was a bit worried he would be affected by it. He couldn’t even look at that poor lass, so I just kept talking to him to keep his mind off it. It was a relief when your DI Marsden turned up, I can tell you. I could get him back here to warm up, then the Duke sent both of us home.’

  Fiona laughed. ‘And did you go home?’

  ‘No. I’m here to do a job. I made sure Davy went though.’

  Fiona shook his hand. ‘Thank you for being here so promptly, Mr Hardy. I hope I haven’t kept you from anything important.’

  ‘My breakfast, and my name is Harry.’

  He picked up his jacket and walked out of the room. The smell of the bacon drew him towards the kitchens, and he remained in the warmth until the sales representative arrived.

  ‘Iain Sherwood,’ the dark-haired handsome man said to Harry, and held out his card.

  Harry thought he looked a little young to be tasked with selling products to Chatsworth, but he looked at the card, read the information on it, and held out an arm to guide him around to the gardens.

  ‘You’ve a couple of days to spare then,’ Harry said. ‘I take it you’ve never been here before.’

  ‘No I haven’t,’ Iain said, looking around him. ‘Impressive, isn’t it? According to my information, it’s twelve thousand acres in the Chatsworth estate alone, and thousands more spread out across the whole of Derbyshire. Is that right?’

  ‘Aye,’ was all Harry could say.

  They moved into the kitchen garden and both of them walked around the vegetable beds, the raised beds, the fruit trees. Iain spoke into his phone rather than taking physical notes, and Harry finally began to realise that maybe the young feller knew a bit. Still, it was going to be a long day for both of them. They had a lot of ground to cover.

  ‘Your greenhouses are situated somewhere else?’ Iain asked.

  ‘They are. Do you want a drink first? It’s bitterly cold out here.’ Harry hesitated for a moment, and then decided not to say anything about soft southerners not being able to take the northern climate.

  ‘That would be good,’ was the response, and Harry watched as Iain switched off his phone and dropped it into his inside pocket.

  It was gardening staff that sat around the table this time, and they were all soon in animated conversation with Iain. He showed them leaflets of different products, chatted to them about their wish lists for improving the crops, keeping predators at bay, and other such horticultural advice. Harry enjoyed the time spent drinking tea, but eventually he stood, told the others they were heading over towards the greenhouses, and he and Iain moved back outside to continue the tour.

  As they walked down the hill heading towards the greenhouse area, Harry felt inordinately proud of what was in front of them. The sun was shining with very weak and watery rays, but it created a sparkling effect, like twinkling stars, on the windows of the greenhouses.

  They went in the first one, quickly closing the door behind them to preserve the heat, and were assailed by a tomato fragrance. Once again the phone was brought into play, and Iain dictated his observations into it. He took his time, and Harry walked alongside him, impressed despite his earlier reservations.

  The second greenhouse was filled with plants that had been started under glass, prior to them being transplanted in warmer months into the vegetable gardens. This was the largest of the glasshouses, with walkways down either side, and a large central growing area. They walked down the first side, with Iain continuing to list the plants into his recorder. As they turned around at the top to walk down the other side, Iain stopped, but Harry didn’t. The collision caused Iain to take a step and he almost fell.

  ‘Fuckin’ ’ell,’ he said, all pretence of having a posh accent vanquished. He dropped to his knees, and Harry, still behind him, stooped to pull him back up.

  ‘Sorry, Iain,’ he said, then froze. Iain’s legs and arms formed a bridge over something lying on the ground. Something unmoving.

  ‘Shit!’ Iain scrambled to his feet, and Harry pushed by him before dropping to the ground himself.

  ‘It’s Olivia,’ he said, placing a finger on her neck. Her skin was icy cold, and he knew he didn’t need an absent pulse to tell him life was extinct.

  Iain vomited. Harry took out his radio.

  ‘Frank,’ he said. ‘I think I need some help.’

  Frank chuckled. ‘Harry,’ he said, ‘the last time you said that to me, you’d found a dead body.’

  ‘Yes, Frank. Get some of those police round to Greenhouse B, will you. Best bring them yourself. And don’t let any of the kitchen staff come down for anything. Nothing, you hear me? Where’s young Davy?’

  Frank hesitated. ‘He’s checking on the deer, he could be anywhere. He’s not far from finishing his shift, he started at six today. Wanted an early finish for a dental appointment. I’ll get hold of him and send him home.’

  ‘I don’t want him here. He’s too young. And bring a bottle of water, will you? I think Iain needs a drink of something.’

  Iain Sherwood’s face, despite his winter suntan, was chalk white. ‘You know her?’ he whispered.

  ‘I do.’ Harry’s tone was grim. ‘Her name is Olivia, and she’s part of the Duchess’s staff. Lovely girl. Just had her twenty-first birthday.’

  ‘And she’s…’

  ‘Dead. She is. I hope you’ve no more appointments today, Iain, because the police will be interviewing everybody.’

  ‘No… I only had here.’ He looked up as the door slid open, and several people came through. None were in uniform, but Iain Sherwood was in no doubt that they were police. They immediately took charge, and he apologised for the pile of vomit in the corner.

  Harry had a quiet word with Frank, then Harry and Iain left the greenhouse and climbed the incline up to the main house, with instructions to go nowhere, speak to nobody, and sit tight until somebody could talk to them.

  They opened the door, and the atmosphere was sombre. Nobody spoke, and all five people present turned towards them. Harry held out a chair for Iain, fetched a small glass and took out his hip flask from his pocket. He poured a generous measure of whisky and handed it to the young man, whose hands were visibly trembling.

  ‘Drink this,’ he said, and Iain did so, giving a small cough as the whisky hit the back of his throat.

  Harry turned to face the other five sitting around the small table. ‘You’ve been told to wait here?’

  They nodded, and one, a buxom woman on the cleaning staff, spoke to him. ‘We’ve been told not to chat about anything and not to speculate.’

  ‘Quite right,’ he said. ‘But we don’t have to sit in silence. Anybody fancy a brew?’

  The buxom lady stood. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Thank you, erm…’

  ‘Judy, Judy Jones.’


  Harry smacked his forehead. ‘That’s it! I’m brilliant with faces, but names I can’t remember! Sorry, Judy.’

  She smiled. ‘No worries. Sit down. Everybody want tea?’

  They nodded once again and Harry joined them around the table. He looked into their faces, and knew they were waiting expectantly for him to divulge some information, any information. He lowered his eyes and they knew they would have to wait.

  Iain said nothing. All he wanted to do was sell some fertiliser, some tomato growth product, to this magnificent stately home. Instead he had quite literally fallen over a dead body. And now he could do nothing; he was tied to this place until the police said he could go. He took out his phone to ring his company, and then realised he couldn’t even do that. The others in the room would hear every word.

  They remained silent, waiting for Judy to carry the tray of drinks across to them.

  Judy tried to smile as she placed the tray on the table, but it was a very weak one, and disappeared almost instantly. They each took a mug, and sat with hands wrapped around it, seeking comfort from something about which they had no knowledge, just guesswork.

  Finally Judy broke. ‘Is it like the other one?’

  Harry sighed. ‘I don’t know. And I’m not allowed to say anything, so please don’t ask.’

  ‘Other one?’ This time the question was short, sharp, staccato, and fired at Judy. Iain’s head was raised and his eyes were fixed on her.

  ‘A death. A few days ago. In the grounds.’ Judy felt she was being pushed into talking about something that she shouldn’t be talking about, and she didn’t know how to handle it. ‘Harry knows more than we do. He found her.’

  Once again they fell silent.

 

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