by Anita Waller
22
Tessa stared at the crime scene pictures of the library in Nicola Armstrong’s house. Hundreds and hundreds of books, and with different murder methods in each one. Was it possible that she had disposed of Adam and Daniel? Had the anger had moments of uncontrollability?
Tessa thought back to other victims whose bodies had never been found – Suzy Lamplugh, Claudia Lawrence, Keith Bennett and many more, but the difference was that those victims were certain to have died. She couldn’t say that about Adam and Danny Armstrong. Had Nicola come across something in one of these books that she had filed into her memory banks for a “just in case” moment?
Or was the answer much simpler – Nicola enjoyed reading crime novels. Nothing sinister, just a woman who found her escape in a book.
Tessa pushed the pictures to one side, and stared around the room. All the staff had been interviewed, alibis verified, and they seemed to be no closer to identifying this murderer.
Tessa picked up a pen and pulled a piece of paper towards her. Time to organise thoughts, see what hadn’t been answered and what had. She drew a line down the middle of the page, and sat and stared at it.
Hannah walked across and stared at it too. ‘No thoughts at all then?’
‘None whatsoever. What are we missing?’
Hannah pulled up a chair. ‘Okay, time to recharge brain cells numbed by medication. Make one side a list of people who really didn’t like her, for whatever reason. You see, in the middle of the night it occurred to me that she didn’t have anybody. We’ve found no friends, let alone close friends; is this because she’s a very unlikeable person, or is it because she realised her anger issues were getting out of control and she was better being on her own?’
Tessa began to write. Accidentally picking up a red pen made the list stand out.
Adam Armstrong
Daniel Armstrong?
Neil Ireland
Paula Ireland
Debbie Carter
Simon Vicars?
Greg Littlewood
Rob Carter
The two women sat for a while just looking at the names. ‘So that was her life?’ Hannah said. ‘If I made a list of people who didn’t like me, it would be a lot longer than that, and I’m still alive! Are we seriously considering any of these could have murdered her? Adam is well out of it, as is Daniel. They’ve no reason to complicate their lives by coming to Baslow to kill her. That doesn’t make sense. Yes, Adam would inherit the house, but not if he killed her to get it. There’s no motive, no indication of where he is, unless…’
‘Unless our friends at Connection have come up trumps again. Let’s go and ask them. And I want to talk to Neil and Paula Ireland again. I want them both signing statements about where they were that night. We’ll get Fiona on to checking if that wrist injury really is sufficiently serious to stop him strangling somebody.’
Hannah crossed the room to speak to PC Fiona Ainsworth, and then joined Tessa outside.
‘Come on, let’s go see what biscuits they’ve got. It’s time to talk.’ Tessa pulled her coat tightly around her, and they walked to the car park.
Luke was engrossed in his course, and didn’t see the two police officers approach the door. It came as a shock when the buzzer sounded. He released the lock and stepped forward to greet them. ‘Welcome, ladies. Do my ladies know you’re coming?’
‘Not unless they’re psychic,’ Tessa admitted with a grin.
‘I wouldn’t put anything past Mrs Lester. I’ll let them know you’re here, and find out which room they want you in.’
He knocked first on Doris’s door, and she looked up, surprised. ‘DI Marsden and Hannah are here,’ he said, and smiled as she closed the lid down onto her laptop.
‘Warn Mouse, will you?’ she whispered.
He nodded, and knocked on Kat’s door. ‘Police in attendance, Kat,’ he said, and she confirmed that they would use her office.
Mouse had already closed down her laptop, the voices having been loud enough for her to hear.
Tessa was quiet, and it was plain to see that the illness had taken its toll. She coughed intermittently, and it proved to be Hannah who led them into talking about Adam and Daniel Armstrong.
‘Things are quite strange,’ Hannah said. ‘Nicola had no friends, or even acquaintances. Maybe that was through choice, we’ll never really know, because she was aware of her temper. She was having an affair, but on the man’s part it was over because she’d attacked him once too often. When she died she believed she was still in that relationship. That last phone call she made that night was to him, but he was in too much pain with a broken wrist to answer her. She hit him with a baseball bat earlier in the day, and he’d only just got back from hospital when she rang. We now wonder, of course, if she was ringing to tell him she was being followed, and she needed help. I suppose he’ll always have to live with that thought.’
‘And the second murder? You’ve found a connection?’ Kat asked.
‘Yes. It seems that Olivia saw whoever was following Nicola, and once the body was found, she texted him or her to say she was going to the police. He persuaded Olivia to talk to him first, and he killed her.’ Hannah paused. ‘The biggest problem of all is we can find no reason for anyone to kill Nicola. We have no reason to suspect the missing husband and child, it would make no sense for them to arrive back on the scene.’
‘Have you found them?’ Tessa asked quietly.
‘Maybe.’ Doris was equally quiet. ‘We don’t know for certain, because we’ve only found the missing bit of the jigsaw today, but one thing is for sure; if you send the police in, blue lights flashing, Adam will go. Let us confirm it is him, and then we can work out how to approach him without him using the escape route that has been in place for the last ten years.’
‘You know his new identity?’ Hannah’s voice was strident, almost a demand.
Tessa picked up a biscuit. ‘Hannah, leave it to Connection. They’ll tell us as soon as something is confirmed. We’re really struggling on this one, because everybody has an alibi. There was no DNA at either scene, we’ve interviewed all the staff except the Duke and Duchess, and we’ve found nothing. We don’t even know why Nicola would be in Chatsworth grounds at that time of night. It must have been bitterly cold because the snow started soon after she died. We know she was drunk, but she was walking away from her home, not towards it. Come on, ladies, suggestions.’
‘Interview the Duke and Duchess,’ Mouse said with a laugh. ‘I don’t know what to say, Tessa. You’re no further forward than you were at the beginning, except you’ve got a chest infection.’
‘And we promise you,’ Doris said, ‘that if our thoughts do lead us to Adam Armstrong, we won’t approach him, we’ll tell you where he is. However, we are being paid to find him, so we will also be telling our clients. Now, if it does prove to be him, it will be visual confirmation only. I think he will be out of his home within ten minutes if anybody causes him any concern, because I think he has expected to be found ever since he left. He’s protecting his child, and he’ll take Danny, or whatever his name is now, and run once again.’
‘Fair enough.’ Tessa sipped thoughtfully at her coffee. ‘Even if we interview him, I still think it makes no sense that he had anything to do with her death. He’d escaped the tyranny of living with her, and he’d managed to keep Danny as well. He’s had ten years to build a new life, and I’m assuming it’s some distance from Baslow… no, I can’t make my brain think it’s him.’
‘So where do you go from here?’
‘Mouse, if only I knew.’ Tessa sighed. ‘There are people on the periphery who we haven’t spoken to yet, such as Rob Carter, Debbie’s husband, and Greg Littlewood, Simon’s partner, but that will be just a formality, I’m sure. Greg, according to Simon, has been in Holland since Christmas with his job, not due home until next week. I can’t see that fitting in with murdering somebody in Chatsworth. And Rob Carter is living with somebody else and has very little to do with
Debbie apart from sending her money regularly. What strikes me the most is that it was a strange dysfunctional family. Nobody really liked anybody else, and even now Debbie and Simon seem to only see each other if he’s doing some work for her. Why can’t people just be normal and stop killing each other,’ she grumbled.
‘We’d be out of a job.’ Hannah grinned at her disgruntled boss. ‘Are we going to call at the Irelands’ home today?’
‘We might as well while we’re out.’ Tessa put down her now-empty cup. ‘Thank you for the chat, ladies and Luke, and the coffee and biscuits. We get scones up at Chatsworth. They’ve been remarkably accommodating.’
‘Ah, but you don’t get the sparkling repartee up there, do you.’ Kat smiled as the two police officers stood. ‘We’ll be in touch very shortly, with a yay or nay on Adam Armstrong. Believe me, nothing’s definite about this. We’re like you, everything seems to be ifs and buts with this case. Have you ever considered they could be dead?’
Tessa halted, halfway through putting on her coat. ‘That’s a definite yes. I know you haven’t been in Nicola Armstrong’s house, but her dining room doubles as a library. It’s full to bursting with crime novels, both fiction and true crime. It’s an amazing collection of books, but it rather makes me think that Nicola was a potential expert criminologist, and would know exactly how to dispose of corpses, with very little effort. She had the full set of Patricia Cornwell’s Scarpetta series, and I imagine from that one set alone, she could kill half of Derbyshire and get rid of the bodies.’
Luke escorted them to the door, then watched as they walked to their car before locking the door. He enjoyed having them drop in, enjoyed watching them trying not to give too much away. That day had been different in that he sensed if they’d had anything to say they would have done so. The whole case had stagnated up at Chatsworth; fortunately it hadn’t in Eyam, and he was looking forward to heading off to Norfolk for his first crack at surveillance.
He gathered up the cups and took them into the kitchen. Washing and drying was his time to let his mind wander, and it wandered to the cinema trip scheduled for Saturday night. He’d be in a bit of a pickle if Mrs Lester decided Saturday was the day to visit Norfolk – he could just imagine what his sisters would say.
23
Luke breathed a sigh of relief that they were delaying their surveillance until Monday. They decided to be sensible, knowing the distance of the journey, and Luke booked two cheap hotel rooms for the Sunday night, so that they didn’t have to leave Eyam at two on Monday morning. The plan was to leave around two on Sunday afternoon, check in to the hotel before having a meal, then get an early night for an early start Monday.
Friday proved to be quiet. Kat had decided to take the day off to spend it with Martha and Carl, Mouse came in for a couple of hours then announced she would be in her flat if anybody needed her, but it would only be if the office was on fire. Doris closeted herself in her office, ostensibly to double-check everything for Monday, but when Luke popped his head around her door to say he was going for some milk, she was reading a book.
‘Any good?’
‘Surprisingly so. I picked it up yesterday on that second-hand books shelf in the Co-op. It’s an author I’d not read before, but will certainly read again, and actually buy it properly next time. Do you read, Luke?’
‘Constantly. Can’t beat a good murder. I’m nipping over to get us some milk. You need anything?’
‘No, I don’t think so. It’s quiet in here today, isn’t it? We’ll give it until four, then we’re closing. Mouse isn’t ill, is she?’
He smiled. ‘Nah… I saw Joel arrive. She’s fine.’
Luke closed Doris’s door and headed across the road, narrowly missing being mown down by a BMW being driven at speed. He used a word he would never dare use in front of his ladies… or his mum.
He grabbed a basket, checked out the bookshelf and chose a novel to pack in his travel bag on Sunday, got the milk and headed towards the checkout. He put the milk through first, getting the receipt he would later put in petty cash, then put the rest of the things through.
His mum laughed. ‘You taking these to the cinema then?’ She rang his goods through, but not before checking whether she would enjoy the book as well. ‘See you later,’ she said, as she handed him his change.
He checked more carefully before crossing the road, taking note that the traffic flow had increased over the last few days, a sure indication that warmer weather was approaching. It just didn’t feel as though it was.
He put the milk in the fridge, his new book in his bag, and tapped on Doris’s door before opening it. He placed the box of Ferrero Rocher in front of her and winked. ‘You can’t read without chocolate,’ he said, and closed the door.
Mouse lay in Joel’s arms, completely happy. His phone call that morning had been unforeseen – an unexpected chance for a day off, did she fancy meeting up? When she asked him where he was, he said Eyam.
He pulled her close and planted a kiss in her messed-up curls. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘Did I tell you I love you?’
She stiffened, then forced herself to relax. ‘You did,’ was her quiet response. ‘Last Thursday, on the phone. At 13:47.’
He leaned on one elbow and smiled down into her face. ‘It had an impact then?’
‘I told you I love you, as well.’
‘When?’
‘After you’d put the phone down.’
He sank back on to the pillow and laughed. ‘You crease me up. Do you?’
‘What?’
‘Love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that an emphatic yes, or a maybe yes?’
‘It’s pretty emphatic.’
‘Wow.’ He stared thoughtfully into space.
‘You’ve gone quiet.’ Mouse guessed she’d gone too far.
‘I have,’ Joel agreed. ‘I’m trying to work out how to handle the next bit.’
‘There’s a next bit?’ The surprise showed in her voice.
‘Look,’ he said, ‘we’ve been seeing each other for over three months, and from our first date that wasn’t a date it was a business meeting meal, I’ve wanted to be with you, to see you every day, but you’re here and I’m there. You have responsibilities here, I know you do, whereas I… I only have a mum who lives in London and has a better social life than me. I hear from her once a month or so, love her to bits, but we don’t need to be in each other’s pockets. I do, however, need to be in your pocket.’
Mouse closed her eyes.
‘Am I boring you? You going to sleep?’
She opened her eyes. ‘No, you’re scaring me. I don’t know how to respond, or what to say.’
‘Say yes.’
‘To what? You know I can’t get to Manchester any more than I do already. This is my business; I need to be here. And then there’s Nan. And Kat. Kat saved my life. Not only with finding me very near death across the road, but she took me in, nurtured me, made me well inside and out. I love these two women, I can’t get to you physically, you know I can’t.’
‘But, my lovely girl,’ Joel said, turning Mouse’s head to kiss her properly on the lips, ‘I can move to Eyam.’
The shop door opened and Luke looked up in surprise. Mouse and Joel walked in, and went through to Doris’s office.
‘Nan, we have news.’ The smile on Mouse’s face said so much.
Doris went cold. She was about to lose her granddaughter to some two bit place the other side of the Pennines, and…
‘Joel’s moving in with me.’
Joel walked around Doris’s desk, placed a kiss on her cheek, and said, ‘Is that okay?’
Doris stood and hugged him, then walked around and did the same to Mouse. ‘Just for a dreadful moment there, I thought you were going to say you were moving to Manchester. Congratulations. Take care of her, Joel. If you don’t, there will be consequences,’ she added with a smile.
Joel reached across her desk and stole a Ferrero Rocher. ‘
Love these.’
Doris looked at her granddaughter. ‘He’ll do.’
They closed at four and everybody went home. It was cold, and Doris looked forward to a night in, and the delicious smell of the stew she had put in the slow cooker that morning. No television, she promised herself, just the book from the Co-op charity bookshelf, maybe a glass of wine, and a few nibbles for supper should she feel so inclined. The new fleece blanket Kat had bought her for Christmas to match the décor in her snug was incredibly warm, and she loved it. Her thoughts were good all the way home, and she tried to clear her mind of anything to do with Adam Armstrong until Sunday afternoon.
She opened her door, and the warmth met her. It had been a sensible decision to set the heating to come on for three, when even mildly warm daytime temperatures began to drop. She hung up her coat in the tiny closet, and, following the smell of the stew into the kitchen, switched on the kettle. She took down the mug proclaiming her to be the best nan ever, and dropped a teabag into it.
The stew was going nicely in the slow cooker, but she decided to wait a while before eating. She took the cup of tea, headed upstairs and showered, putting on her pyjamas and dressing gown, ready for her planned chill-out evening in the glorious warmth of her cottage.
It was only as she reached the bottom of her stairs that she saw her post, still in the letterbox and not on the floor. She pulled it through, pushed it into her dressing gown pocket and went back into the kitchen, carrying her now-empty cup.
She set up her tray for her evening meal and left it on the kitchen side, ready for when she was ready.
Although the snug was warmed by the radiator, Doris decided she needed the comfort of the fire, so she placed a match to the newspaper twists, and watched with satisfaction as it caught immediately. It had taken some learning, but she could now light the two downstairs fires with ease.