Half an hour later he was sitting on a rickety bench sipping a small plastic mug of strong tea, poured from a flask by Charlie Neath, and talking to both Charlie and Denise Kirk, who’d been digging the neighbouring allotment.
‘We were both here before the Imbers arrived, weren’t we, Charlie?’ Denise said, pouring a generous slug of rum into her cup. ‘My patch butts up against their back hedge so I’ve been seeing them on and off since they moved in nearly twenty years ago. Harriet was just a small baby then. She worshipped her dad. It was always her dad out in the garden playing with her when she was tiny. He built her a swing that hung from a branch of the apple tree. They spent a lot of time out in the garden when he was home on leave.’
Marsh waited.
‘He was in the army — a lieutenant, I think. Isn’t that right, Charlie?’
Neath slowly nodded. ‘Yeah. But I never found out exactly what he did or how he died, just that he was awarded some medal or other. That would have been when Hattie was about four or five, I think. It was tragic. She was never the same again, that little lass. Whenever I caught sight of her after that, she always looked sad.’
Denise took up the story. ‘She still used to talk to him, her dad, even though he wasn’t around. I could hear her through the hedge. It made me feel terrible, as if I was eavesdropping or something. But she used to sit in a little den that she’d made, in a hollow in the hedge. And she’d have conversations with herself. I felt so sorry for her. I used to try and chat when I saw her around the village, but she was very guarded and wouldn’t open up. Course, I didn’t realise what was going on then.’
‘What do you mean?’ Barry asked.
‘It might have been all just rumours, but there was another man around shortly after. He was here for a few years.’
Neath looked worried. ‘Better let sleeping dogs lie, Denise,’ he said.
‘No,’ said Barry. ‘If something happened, I need to know. We have a duty to get to the bottom of Hattie’s death, and whatever happened back then might be relevant. Her behaviour’s been erratic recently, and we’re trying to find out why. Go on, please, Mrs Kirk.’
‘Well, there was talk of things going on, you know. He was a bit peculiar, this new bloke. I could never put my finger on it. He was kind of smarmy and creepy, you know? Anyway, Hattie got really withdrawn and wouldn’t speak to anyone. She got thinner and thinner. I used to hear her crying in her little den, but if I tried to speak to her she ran off. I was about to have a word with her mum, but suddenly the guy did a runner with some girl he’d met at a pub in Dorchester. I kind of sensed that things calmed down after that, but Hattie was still troubled.’
‘Do you think there was some kind of abuse going on?’
Denise looked at him. ‘What do you think? He was a creep, and she was such a pretty little thing, and so lost in the years after her dad’s death.’ She shook her head. ‘Tragic. Bloody tragic.’
‘What was his name? Can you remember?’
Denise shook her head, but Charlie said, ‘Hoggart, or something like that. First name was Sean. But you won’t find him. I heard that he died in a motorbike crash a few years after he left the village.’
* * *
Barry looked up from his desk and saw Sergeant Rose Simons approaching. He smiled. ‘Hello, Rose. Thanks for popping across to see me. I want to pick your brains about a few things.’
She snorted. ‘Brains? Me? Are you mad? It’s barrel scraping time, obviously. That’s why I’m still in uniform. Most people have neural networks in their heads. I have neural knot works.’ She lowered herself into a nearby chair, stretched out her legs and yawned. ‘And you’re in danger of becoming a replica of your boss. That’s exactly the expression she used when she saw me a week or two ago, picking my brains. You’ll be wearing a grey skirt suit and heels next.’ She watched the startled expression on Marsh’s face. ‘You know, Barry, I could quite fancy you dragged up. Shall we make it a date? No tight rubber, mind. It brings me out in a rash.’
‘Tiring shift last night?’ Barry asked.
Rose nodded.
‘You’ve been working in the Dorchester and Blandford area for a while now. A few things have happened over the past fifteen years or so that we’re thinking might be connected in some way. That’s what I wanted to ask you about. The link might be this young woman who’s just been killed in Exeter, which is where the boss is right now.’
‘Okay. Fire away.’
‘So we start when she was four or five. Her family lived in a cottage in Bridgeford St Paul. The father was an army officer who’d been killed in action a year or two before. It’s possible the mother had a relationship with someone going by the name of Sean Hoggart. Maybe he was a lodger? Anyway, he may have abused little Harriet, but he’s long dead and there’s nothing on record.’
‘Okay. And the second event?’
‘The family were still living in the same house. When Harriet was fourteen or fifteen she may have been groomed and abused by a man called Lawrence Jackson. He lived in the village and was the church organist, although he worked as a senior civil engineer. He committed suicide some five years ago. I think he was found by his wife and the children when they came home after school. He was hanging from a beam?’
Rose sank down lower in her chair.
‘Around that time the Imbers seem to have become friendly with someone called Edwina Davis. Apparently she lodged with them for a few weeks when she started her job as a community midwife, until she bought her own home. Eddie took her own life six months ago, as you’ll remember. Just before she died, she may have had a passionate affair with Harriet, but we think Harriet made all the running.’ He paused. Rose made no comment.
‘You’ll be aware of the recent death of Mark Paterson at Dancing Ledge, two weeks ago. We all assumed it was an accident, but we now think Harriet was there with him that Sunday morning. And that’s it. You’ll have been aware of most of these events, but not the person connecting them all. So we’re trying to tap into people’s memories, and the boss thought of you.’
‘Well, it’s good of her to think of little old me. She forgot my birthday last week, though, so the love can only be skin deep. Listen, I need some food. How about coming down to the cafeteria for something? My brain works better when there’s some fuel going into it. Will they still be serving bacon butties at this time in the morning, or is the canteen here at HQ too posh for that?’
Five minutes later they were sitting in a window seat, enjoying an early lunch. Or was it a late breakfast? Barry sipped his tea and watched Rose finish her first round of bacon sandwiches, liberally splattered with tomato ketchup. She licked her fingers.
‘Okay, here goes. I came across your guy, Sean Hoggart, a couple of times. This was when I was a keen young rookie, out to save the world and the people in it. He was a slime-ball, talked of nothing but having it off with anything in a skirt. His speciality, according to rumour, was getting teenagers completely pissed, then screwing them while they weren’t aware of what was going on. Couldn’t prove anything though, and the girls involved were so drunk they didn’t remember a thing. It solved a lot of our problems when he drove his motorbike into a tree doing about ninety, coming home from the pub one night. He used to do odd jobs and gardening around that area, so maybe that’s how he got to know the Imbers. He had a few different lodgings, so he may have stayed with them for a short while. The thing is, when he wanted to, he could smarten himself up and come across as a half-decent human being. He could well have soft-talked the Imber woman into letting him into her house, maybe even her bed. As for your story about him abusing your Hattie when she was small, I never heard of it or anything like it. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. He was a complete toad.’ Rose took a gulp of tea. ‘I remember Jackson’s suicide. It was pretty tragic, but there was nothing to indicate that anyone else was involved. Nothing of what you said about him ever came to our attention.’
‘No, but did you ever see a teenage girl h
anging around? And was there any indication that someone had been in the cottage after he died but before his wife found him?’
Rose looked troubled. ‘No, not as far as I remember. His wife didn’t say that there was anything out of place. Why do you think that?’
‘We found a sketchbook at Harriet’s flat in Exeter yesterday. It had a sketch of a man’s body hanging from a noose. I’ve got a scan of it here. Can you take a look?’
He extracted a sheet of paper from a folder he’d brought with him and pushed it across the table. Rose peered at it closely then, after a sharp intake of breath, looked up at Marsh.
‘That’s exactly how we found him, in that room. Christ, Barry. This is worrying.’
Marsh took a second sketch from the folder and showed it to Rose. She looked horrified. ‘That’s Eddie Davis, isn’t it? I recognise her from a photo her brother had. And that’s how she was found a few months ago. The exact position.’ She stared at Marsh. ‘What kind of a person was this girl?’
‘A very troubled and sick one, by the looks of it. And here’s the third.’
He pushed the final sketch towards the concerned-looking Rose. It showed a clifftop scene that looked like Dancing Ledge. Two figures were drawn with their backs to the artist. The male figure was just about to topple forward into the water, his arms were outstretched as if he were trying to regain his balance. The girl’s long curly hair was blowing in the wind. And her hand was resting in the small of his back.
Rose slowly shook her head. ‘Incredible. If you’d just told me this and I hadn’t seen these sketches, I’d never have believed you. I’d have thought you were crazy even to consider a connection. So, your boss is . . .?’
‘In Exeter, trying to get to the bottom of it all. A bit of a tough call, now that the girl’s dead.’
Chapter 31: Too Clingy
Sophie Allen spotted Tommy Milburn coming through the doorway of the CID office and waved. A decade earlier, Tommy would have arrived in a flurry of witty comments and banter, but now he looked tired and careworn. He merely lifted his hand.
He made his way slowly past the logjam of desks, chairs and filing cabinets. He’s lost weight, Sophie thought, but he seems to have lost something else as well.
She smiled at him. ‘Sorry to ruin your holiday. It’s all my fault, as I’m sure you’re aware.’
‘I was getting bored anyway, so a short day trip back here will be just what I need to set me up for the weekend. Sandra dropped me off at Norwich station. She’s going to spend the day shopping, so was full of bounce this morning. To be honest, I’m not really sure that a holiday on a narrowboat suits either of us.’
Close up, Sophie could see the lines on his face and the tiredness in his eyes. Illness? Or is he ready for retirement at last? she wondered. He was a good fifteen years older than her but they had made the rank of DI at about the same time. Maybe the years of accumulated stress were at last taking their toll.
‘Shall we go into my office?’ Tommy suggested, looking first at Sue Wilding then at Sophie. ‘I’ve got a rough idea of what’s been going on but not the full details.’
Sophie let Sue take the lead. When she had finished, Milburn turned to her. ‘You’ve always had a good nose, Sophie. Who do you think did it?’
‘I’m not ready to stick my neck out yet. Logically, we have the obvious four suspects. I’m holding back until we’ve talked to this Plymouth boyfriend, but I will say that Markham is not my choice for front runner. His alibi for Saturday night, out for a meal with his secretary, Val Matthews, seems to be holding firm. In fact she says she was with him for longer than he seemed to think. If she’s right, he couldn’t have got to the quayside in time.’
‘If something is going on between them, that might give him a motive for killing Harriet,’ Sue interjected. ‘If he was hoping to get serious with her, she might not have taken kindly to finding that he has a kink. So he removed the potential source of that information. She might be covering for him just ’cause he asked her to.’
‘That did occur to me until I met Valery,’ Sophie replied. ‘She’s old enough to be his mother, and to say that she feels maternal towards him would be an understatement. No, I’m pretty sure there’s no romantic entanglement there. Apparently the meal out was a thank you for some extra work that she did for him, and they went back to his flat because she and her husband are planning a holiday in Canada. She wanted to see photos. So, he’s currently the least likely of our suspects.’
‘So what would your thoughts be for the next move?’ Tommy interjected.
‘Exactly what Sue has already suggested. It’s possible that there may be other people with a motive for wanting Harriet dead, what with her history, but I don’t think any of the families I told you about suspect anything untoward in their loved ones’ deaths. Eddie Davis’s brother knows a bit more than the others, but he seems content to let us get on with finding the truth about her death. So we keep plugging away at these four, cross-checking everything we find out about them until we get the snippet that opens the door.’
‘No gut feeling then?’ Tommy asked.
‘No, Tommy. Sorry to disappoint you. Listen, Rae and I want to interview this latest boyfriend, Matt Brindle. Rae’s already met him briefly. Are you alright with us going down to Plymouth to see him, or do you want one of your own team to do it? Or I could collect someone from Plymouth CID if you want. We could be there in an hour. We think he works in an estate agents’ there, so one of your squad could trace the office and get the information to us while we’re on the road.’
Tommy seemed undecided, but Sue Wilding broke in angrily. ‘One of us needs to be there, boss. He’s in the running for being our prime suspect, for God’s sake. We can’t leave all the juicy stuff to them, surely? I want to go.’
Tommy nodded somewhat wearily. ‘You’re right. This is our baby. Sorry, Sophie, but it needs to be Devon led.’
‘Fine,’ said Sophie. ‘But can Rae go? She’s got the background. Would you be happy with that?’
Sue Wilding grudgingly agreed. She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘As long as she’s ready to go in ten minutes. I’m not hanging around for anybody.’
Sophie watched Rae head off for Plymouth in Sue Wilding’s car, and then made her way back towards the campus. Tommy had decided to remain in the office and plough through the reports on Hattie Imber’s background, many of which originated from Sophie’s unit. Maybe she should make herself scarce for an hour or two, and try to get to the bottom of Hattie’s relationship with Maria.
* * *
Maria proved to be an easy person to talk to. Even though she was still distraught at the events of the previous couple of days, she seemed open and honest. She confirmed that she was a second-year student and had occupied the room next to Hattie’s in the previous academic year. They had become close friends, a relationship that soon blossomed into an on-off romance. This year they had moved to more upmarket, self-catering accommodation. They often shared cooking and laundry duties, and ate together more often than not. She admitted that they sometimes spent the night together, but less frequently of late.
‘Hattie changed,’ she said sadly. ‘Maybe it’s been going on longer than I thought and I didn’t realise it. But it’s been more obvious recently. She always teased me, said I’m too serious, but it was always gentle before. This term she’s been getting crueller, and it made me really unhappy. But she’s been bad-tempered with everyone, not just me.’ Maria looked intently at Sophie, as if seeing her for the first time. ‘Are you the one who spoke to her last week?’
‘Yes. I interviewed her on Wednesday. Why do you ask?’
‘She told me. She said you were a witch, trying to trap her. She said you had green eyes, and that was a sign of a witch in olden times. I told her she was talking nonsense and that someone with her intelligence shouldn’t believe such things. She said the voices in her head were telling her that it was true.’
‘So she heard voices?’
‘I think so, Maria. I spotted the drugs for it in her bathroom cabinet, and the doctor here on campus confirmed that she prescribed them several weeks ago. She'd started seeing a counsellor here and was waiting to see a specialist. I think it explains a lot about the changes in her behaviour. She seems to have been doing lots of other erratic things recently, and that can be a sign. I expect the drugs would have calmed her down given enough time, though it doesn’t look as though she was taking her medication consistently. There are too many tablets left in the pack. What we have to remember is that her illness didn’t cause her death. Someone killed her, probably someone she knew, and our job is to find out who. So I need to know exactly what you did on Saturday evening, and who can vouch for you. Can we start with your argument? You told me it was because Hattie broke up with you. Did she tell you why?’
Maria sighed and looked even more forlorn. ‘She told me I was too clingy, and that I was trying to control her life. It was all over that new boyfriend. We’d agreed to tell each other if someone else came along, but she didn’t. I know she wasn’t the same as me. I’m just not interested in men, but she was more mixed up and didn’t know what she wanted. Maybe that was the problem. Still, she should have told me and she didn’t. She pretended there wasn’t anyone else, but I knew she was lying. And then when I saw him on Saturday, I knew she would treat him just like all the rest. Like a toy. Just like me.’ Tears started rolling down her cheeks. ‘I feel so empty now she’s gone.’
Detective Sophie Allen Box Set 2 Page 65