by M K Turner
“Ah, so you’re one of them,” interrupting her introduction, he nodded knowingly. “Don’t know why I’m surprised really.”
“One of who?” Her heart sinking, Angie realised that Robin had warned him they might get in touch, and she wondered if he would still speak to them.
“One of the women looking for Henry. Have you found him?” His eyes darted back and forth between the two women.
“They have, and it’s all in here.” Annette slapped the folder. “What I’d like to know is what you told Robin, and why you didn’t tell me about them?”
“About who?” His eyes dropped to his lap.
“Don’t give me that old man act. You know damn well what I’m talking about. Your wife, or not, as I now know, was leading Henry astray. When he tried to move on with Lorna, she killed him. Maybe unintentionally, but killed him just the same. You knew that all these years, yet not a word to put us out of our misery. That was cruel, Chris, very cruel.”
His head jerked up, and he winced at the spasm of pain which shot down his spine.
“Why? Why was it cruel not to tell you that? You all already believed he was dead. I didn’t know, not until she told me what she’d done, and by then, who would it help? Certainly not Lorna and the baby. It would have hurt her to her core, and she didn’t deserve more misery.”
“But we could have buried him. Gerry would have gone to meet his maker knowing that his son didn’t abandon him. He hoped, you know, right to the end, that Henry would come home.”
“No, he didn’t. He knew, like you knew, that Henry wouldn’t do that. You knew, Lorna knew, Gerry knew, Dan Simmons knew. Everyone bloody knew except me. Not until that night. So, I ask again, why was it cruel?”
“We could have buried him. Gerry could have been there.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.” Falling silent, he considered this, he’d never thought about it before. He shook his head slowly. “No, even with consideration, the gains were less than the hurt it would have caused Lorna. Plus of course, explanations would have been needed by the police, and I couldn’t risk Lorna being left on her own.”
“On her own? On her own? How dare you, Chris Rogers? You know damn well that me and Gerry would have taken her in. Dear God, she practically lived with us for a while after the baby came anyway.” Her hands on her hips, Annette resisted the urge to jump to her feet and say more than needed to be said.
“I didn’t know that then. That was a while before Robin arrived, and after, well we were all getting on with it as best we could. Why would I break that fragile line we were all balancing on?”
“I can understand that, Mr Rogers.” Angie tried to release some of the tension that was building.
Relaxing her arms, Annette tapped the file. “How much do you know?”
“Not much, thank God. Only that she pushed him off The Ridge and buried him in the old quarry.”
“Well this tells you exactly what happened. This tells you what she was up to, and how my Henry had his life snatched away from him.”
“I’m sure it makes sad reading, but I already know that. I don’t need the details.”
“She told you?”
“Not much. She made sure I knew that he was a well-endowed, fabulous lover. She didn’t get the chance to elaborate once she said what she’d done.” In a futile attempt to banish the images flashing through his mind, he stared at the television, Pointless was on. It didn’t help. “I’m glad it’s all coming out. Weight off the shoulders and all that, but I’m still worried about Lorna. You will look after her, won’t you?”
Pulling his eyes away from the screen, he blinked to clear his vision as he looked at her.
Huffing, Annette rummaged in her bag and shoved a tissue in his hand. “Don’t start crying on me, you old fool.” She sniffed. “And you can quit the ‘I’m not long for this world’, nonsense too.”
“It’s true. I know you don’t want to face it, but we’re getting older. Day by day something else stops working. I can barely get out of bed some days. Anyway, even if I’ve got another five years, what good would they do me? I’ll be locked up.”
“You did kill her then?”
“I did. And once the police know that, I’ll be whisked away in handcuffs and held pending trial. I’m guilty, even if I survive all that, I’ll die in prison.”
“Would you like to tell us what happened that night?” Speaking quietly, Angie hoped that Annette would let him go at his own pace.
“Not much to tell. I came home unexpectedly and it was obvious she’d had a man there. Two glasses on the table, virtually naked, and the toilet seat was up. I told her to leave.”
“And . . . we already know that much. I . . .”
Annette fell silent as Angie held up her hand and gave a shake of her head.
“But it wasn’t good enough me knowing she’d cheated on me, she wanted to tell me how much she’d enjoyed it. I’m not doing the detail, Annette, it’s boring. Suffice to say, I was a lousy lover and Henry was tiptop. I couldn’t hold it against the boy, she even admitted she’d seduced him, and I was seventeen myself once, you know.”
“That was what made you kill her?”
“No. I killed her because she told me why she killed Henry. He didn’t want her because he loved Lorna. I knew how that would affect Lorna, and I saw red. I flew at her. I didn’t mean to kill her, it really was an accident. She was drunk and lost her balance trying to avoid me, her head hit the corner of the grate, and just like that,” he clicked his fingers, “she was dead.”
“That’s such a shame, especially as you’d reconciled yourself to her finally leaving. What was it she said that caused you to flip?” Leaning towards him, Angie took his hand. “I’m sorry, is this too much for you?”
“It’s been too much for ever, or so it seems. I can hardly remember a time when it wasn’t bouncing about in here.” He tapped his head with his free hand.
“Perhaps it will get better now that you’ve told someone, my love.” Annette smiled encouragingly. “No one will blame you, you know. Not when they know the whys, and that it was an accident.”
“What was it? What did she say, that made you so angry?”
Chris lowered his head, and stared at Angie’s rings for a while. Looking up at her he shrugged. “I can’t remember, not exactly. She was going on about how he’d never come back. Smug, I think the word is. Smug as any drunk who thinks they’re right, even when they are so very wrong.”
“Why didn’t you call the police? Tell them what happened? Like I said they wouldn’t have blamed you.”
“Really? Does this sound innocent to you? Husband goes away for the weekend and comes home unannounced. Didn’t even tell the daughter he’d left sleeping at the hotel. What does he find? His wife in a compromising situation, and she taunts him about her lover’s sexual prowess. Oh yes, and then she stumbles and manages to kill herself. They wouldn’t believe me now, any more than they would have then.”
“What did you do with her? How did you manage to hide her body?”
“Does it matter?”
“The police will want to know. They will want to recover the body.”
“Good bloody luck with that. I can’t remember where I took her.”
“Don’t be daft, I’m sure you do.” Ignoring the warning glance from Angie, Annette put her cup down. “How can you forget a thing like that?”
“Because I was in a panic, I put her in the car, her car, and I drove. I was so scared, it was like a dream.”
“You dumped her in her car? Left her somewhere for anyone to find?” Annette was shaking her head. “Well I never, it doesn’t sound like you.”
Angie gave Chris’s hand a squeeze when he sighed.
“No, I got rid of her body, and then dealt with the car.”
“But how? The police don’t just leave them lying around. They would have traced the owner. Did no one ever knock on the door about it?”
“Annette, is there a particular reason you
are so interested in the bloody car?” Chris’s irritation was obvious, and he began to wheeze.
“I’m not. I am interested in how you got rid of a car and a body, and can’t remember anything about it. I don’t actually care about either. Good riddance in my book.”
As he sighed again, she got to her feet and collected the empty cups. She could see she had upset him and she hadn’t wanted to. How he disposed of the body was of no consequence really, she was just glad Chelly Rogers had got what she deserved. Rinsing the cups under the tap, she did wonder again how he could forget what he’d done. He must have dug a hole, surely you couldn’t forget that.
In the other room, still holding his hand, Angie tried to calm him.
“I’m sorry, Mr Rogers, we didn’t mean to upset you. Annette is obviously in shock after finding out Henry died as he did. But I have a feeling you’re not telling the truth, but we won’t press you further. When Annette comes back, we’ll leave.” Letting go of his hand, she picked up her handbag.
“Do you now? How would you know what happened all those years ago? Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction you know. But you don’t have to go. Not if you change the subject, I’ve put my hands up and now the law will take its course. All this—”
Rushing back into the room, Annette picked up the file. “This might help. Read this, or just skip to the last bit, it might jog your memory.” Thrusting the file into his hands, she nodded triumphantly. “It’s got to be worth a try.”
Henry Cooksey was handwritten across the front of the file, and Chris’s hands tightened their grip, intending to hand it back. But curiosity got the better of him.
“Are you going to leave it here for me?”
“No, we’re going to stay just in case, aren’t we, Angie?”
“That’s up to Mr Rogers. If he wants us to leave, I think we should.” The disappointment on Annette’s face was evident, but Angie looked at Chris Rogers. “Would you like us to leave this with you?”
“Makes no difference to me what you do, this won’t change anything.” He opened the file. Years of teaching had given him the ability to read quickly without missing any detail and it took him only minutes to read about Henry sitting on the stairs, freezing cold, and telling Lorna he loved her. His lips set into a thin line. Such a bloody waste.
Sitting back in her chair, Annette grinned at Angie. “He reads quickly, this won’t take long.”
Raising her finger to her lips, Angie watched the changing emotions on Chris’s face. At one point he pulled his head back, distancing himself from what he was reading, and she guessed correctly that he was reading about Lorna and Henry in the gym. When he got to the final chapter he was frowning as his eyes devoured the words, staring at the final page for several minutes before he closed the file.
“This is a work of fiction. Probably not far from the truth, granted, but fiction none the less.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Angie. “You wrote this?”
“Not all of it, I collaborate with two others.”
“Well you have a good imagination. It all sounds very realistic and I’m sure readers will lap it up.”
“It’s all based on the truth, Chris. That’s what they do, get the truth, the facts, and write the story around them. That’s why it’s important to know what eventually happened to Chelly. Isn’t that right, Angie? To complete the story.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what’s true.” He banged the file. “You said I was crying because she’d gone, when I told Lorna I was looking for her passport. I wasn’t I knew it had gone. I was crying for Henry. For Lorna. And for what had happened.”
“Yes, I can see how that would be the case,” Annette agreed.
“Can I ask why Chelly didn’t leave after the rugby awards? Henry was convinced she would.”
“Because I’d agreed I expect. Chelly liked to be awkward.”
“But you accepted it.”
“Yes, because I was a bloody fool. If I’d had any sense, I should have known she’d wreck other lives. So many ruined lives.”
“It’s always easy to be wise with hindsight. I’m sure if you went back to the night she died, you might have acted differently.”
“No. No I wouldn’t.”
Angie turned to Annette. “I think we should go now. Mr Rogers can always call us, if and when he’s ready to tell us what actually happened.”
Turning too quickly to face her, Chris groaned at the pain that shot up his back. Recovering his breath, he wagged his finger at her. “I’ve told you how she died. It’s the truth. I’m not going into the gory details about disposing of her. Now, if you aren’t going to drop it, you can go. I’d rather be bloody bored.”
“Chris! You’re never rude. Ever.” Annette was taken aback. “The police will want to know, so if you’re happier sat facing them in a police station, rather than being in your own home, we’ll leave you in peace. But you’ll need to come up with something. Getting rid of a body, and a car, and all her stuff, I don’t think they’ll believe you don’t remember any more than we do.” Walking to him, she kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He flapped his hand. “Forgotten already.”
“I’ll come on my usual week then?”
“If I’m still at liberty.” He smiled at her. “By the way, I remember what I did with her things. You didn’t ask about them.”
“What did you do with them?” Angie was expecting him to tell her he’d taken them to the local tip and was surprised at his answer.
“Under the floor of the under stairs cupboard. There’s a deep void under that part of the house, and I couldn’t see any reason why anyone would want to lift the boards there. I did think about moving them when we moved out, but couldn’t seem to find the right time. As I’ve not been arrested, I’m assuming they’re still there. Her passport is in the little overnight bag.” He looked at Annette. “Is that enough information to stop you worrying about the car?”
A bob of the head and a smile told him Annette had let the subject drop.
“Thank you for your time, Mr Rogers. I do hope we haven’t upset you too much. I hope you have a peaceful evening. No, don’t get up, we can see ourselves out.”
“Well it will be boring, if that’s what you mean by peaceful. I’ll see you soon Annette, if I’m still around.”
“You will be. To annoy me if nothing else.”
Back in the car, Angie asked Annette if she would mind her making a couple of calls
“No, you go ahead. I’m in no rush to get home. It will either be a case of dinner for one, or explaining to one of my lot where I’ve been. I’m not allowed secrets.” Her smile was sad. “Although it would seem everyone else has them.”
“Are you hungry? Would you like to join us for a Chinese?”
“Ooh that would be lovely.”
“I’ll order that first, then I’ll give Inspector Tipper a call.”
Food ordered, Angie called Tipper and told him what Chris Rogers had revealed. “I thought as Mum and Gran got on so well there, we could go and ask if—”
“Hang on, Angie. That’s a step too far. This is a murder case after all. Those cases are evidence and need to be treated as such. Give me ten minutes and I’ll call you back.”
Agreeing, Angie drove to collect their meal. Tipper called back while they were waiting to collect it. Giving Annette the money, Angie stepped outside to take the call. She was surprised to find that Tipper was on his way to meet a scenes of crime officer at the Rogers’ former home.
“Oh blimey, that’s efficient. I’ll be home shortly, will you give me a call and let me know what you find?”
Tipper assured her he would. “As soon as I know, you’ll be my next call.”
“Will I be allowed to see what’s there? I’m guessing now it’s a live case again, that might be awkward. Actually, before you answer that, what will happen to Chris Rogers? He is old and frail, and I believe that Chelly’s death was an accident, even if he’s not t
elling the whole truth.”
“I can’t say for certain. But even if they do go ahead and prosecute, given his age and ill health, the fact that he’s pleading guilty to causing the accident, with the lack of any evidence to the contrary, it’s unlikely he’ll get a custodial sentence. It would be better for him if he told us where her remains are though. That would show full co-operation. Angie, I have to go, I’m at the house.”
“Okay, I’ll speak to you later.”
Hanging up, Angie walked back to Annette. Conflicting emotions assaulted her senses. She was excited to be getting to the truth of what happened and being able to close the Henry Cooksey file, but also sad at the thought of what Chris Rogers was likely to go through. Chelly had been a complex and difficult woman, and she had been responsible for what happened to all the lives affected by her seduction of Henry. Angie didn’t believe Chris Rogers should suffer any more than he already had.
Reaching the door of the takeaway, Angie smiled at Annette who was walking towards her carrying their order. She told her what Tipper had said as they made their way back to the car.
“Well I for one will stand up in court for him. Even if it hadn’t been an accident, she didn’t deserve to live. Look how many lives she wrecked.” Annette clipped her seatbelt into place.
“I agree. The trouble is, the law’s the law. If someone I loved was killed, accidently or not I wouldn’t be happy that their body had just been dumped somewhere.” Sighing, Angie headed for home.
“No. No more than I am. I want a proper grave for my boy. But I don’t think anyone missed her. Not like they did my Henry.” Annette pursed her lips and thought about that. “That’s awful, isn’t it? Not to be missed by anyone. No one even wondering what happened to you. Still, I suppose that’s the price you pay when you do the things she did.”
“Yes, it is awful. It would be nice if Mr Rogers told the police where she was. She would at least have a proper burial.”
“Yes, I suppose. But who would go to her funeral? Bloody awful. Awful and sad.”
Once back at the cottage, they updated Margaret and Bridget, and ate the Chinese in relative silence. Only the odd comment on how nice the food was as everyone waited for the phone, which sat in the centre of the table, to ring. It didn’t.