‘I’ll try,’ I said, knowing the shame would live with me for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
When her mobile began to ring, the minute she walked into the main office, Gayle, feeling uncharacteristically irritable, through lack of sleep, thought No bloody peace for the wicked. Can’t I even have a cup of coffee? She didn’t recognise the number and answered rather brusquely,
‘DC Jones.’
‘Gayle... It’s me, Carol.’
‘Carol?’ The relief Gayle felt when she heard Carol’s voice was immense. She sank into her seat. ‘Where are you?’
Once the call was over, she jumped to her feet in excitement, just as Patsy came through the door.
‘Boss, I’ve got news,’ she announced. ‘Carol Barrington’s safe. She just called me.’ She held up her mobile and a cheer went round the office.
Patsy stopped in her tracks, surprised. ‘Where is she?’
‘In a farmhouse on the North Yorkshire Moors. Unfortunately Pauline is dead.’ Gayle gave the DCI a brief report on her conversation with Carol.
’We need to let the Super know,’ the DCI said. ‘Come with me, Gayle.’
In the Superintendent’s office, Gayle summarised Carol’s call and her talk with the farmer, Joe Carter. ‘The Yorkshire lads are sending a couple of people over to stay with her,’ she concluded.
The office was buzzing when Gayle returned to pass on the Super’s message that there would be a team briefing in fifteen minutes. Questions were fired at her from all sides, everyone wanting to know the details.
‘Sorry, you’ll have to wait for the briefing. I need to let her daughter know she’s safe,’ said Gayle. She checked the time, before keying in Julia’s number. ‘Gayle here. Great news, Julia. Your mum’s safe. I’ve just had a phone call from her.’ The shriek from Julia could be heard across the office. ‘She’s in Yorkshire – I can’t go into detail just now; I’ll explain everything when I see you. I’m leaving the office soon to drive down there. I’ll pick both you and Fiona up on the way.’
‘But, is she ok? What’s she doing in Yorkshire? Why is there a policeman at the house with us?’ Julia fired questions at Gayle.
‘Julia, your mum is safe. That’s all I can tell you for now. I’m just going into a meeting, so I’ll bring you up to date when I see you.’ She disconnected the call before Julia could ask her anything else.
Chief Superintendent Mike Jensen made his way into the MIR. Standing in front of the white board, he looked around, noting the air of excitement rippling through his team.
‘Morning, everyone. I’m sure you’ll all have heard the good news by now that Carol Barrington has been found, in North Yorkshire, alive and relatively well. And the bad news; that unfortunately, her friend Pauline Bradley, who went with her to see Dan Smithson, or, to give him his real name, Justin Green, has been killed.
So, this is now a murder enquiry.’ He scanned the faces, of the team, noting he had their full attention ‘I’ve been speaking to the Yorkshire constabulary and this is the situation,’ he said. ‘Carol has confirmed that her abductor is her tenant, who she knows as Dan Smithson. We believe his real name is Justin Green. She says he’s the person who attacked her in Barbados, as we suspected. She managed to get away from him last night on the moor, and was found hiding in a barn this morning.’ You could have heard a pin drop in the room.
‘I’m leaving now, for Yorkshire. We need to get manpower down there immediately to take control of the search for Justin Green, who apparently has the body of Pauline Bradley in the boot of his car. He may be injured. I’ve spoken with the North Yorks Division; they’re happy for us to lead the case, and are offering every assistance. They’ve already got a helicopter in the air, and men and dogs on the ground, searching the moor. They’ve calculated how far Carol could’ve walked, and drawn up a grid of the initial area to be covered.
We understand Justin Green has changed his appearance. He’s now clean-shaven with very short, light-coloured hair. Bit thinner, too. We’ll get a new photofit done for Carol to approve. She’s also given a description of the car he’s using, large, light-coloured, probably a Peugot; no number plate I’m afraid. Unfortunately, the Yorkshire lads have told us she wasn’t able to tell them the whereabouts of a cottage she was held in. However, she’s given a rough estimate of how long the car journey took from the cottage to the moor, so they can factor that into their calculations. We’ll need to draft in some uniforms to get the numbers. Right. Let’s get moving.’
Before leaving, the Superintendent took the Barbados officers to one side. ‘Looks like your theory of the ex being the perpetrator is up the spout,’ he said.
‘Yes. Quite a turn up for the books.’ said the DCI ‘We’ll stay with it until the perp’s found, but murder now trumps our case. It’s all yours from now on.’
‘Yep. Extradition’s out of the question now.’ agreed Detective Superintendant Jensen.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
When she left the station, Gayle rang Julia again to let her know they were on their way, and asked them to be ready to leave. She suggested they pack a bag for Carol, who would be needing a change of clothes and some toiletries.
Georgia chatted animatedly as she drove, surprisingly not about her sex life, but about the case, wondering how Carol had managed to escape.
Before long, they reached Jesmond, and Georgia pulled into the circular gravelled driveway leading to Carol’s front door. Julia came running out of the house, her blonde hair, now tinted with bright pink, was looking wild. She was flustered and red-faced. Fiona had followed her out and was trying to put her arm around her, telling her to calm down, but Julia rudely shrugged her off.
‘Is she alright? Is Mum ok? How can these things keep happening to her?’ She was almost hysterical, shaking Gayle’s arm and searching her face for answers.
‘Let’s go into the house for a few minutes and I’ll bring you all up to speed with what we know. Ok?’ Gayle took Julia’s arm and firmly steered her through the front door and along the hall into the kitchen, where she sat her down and told her about receiving the call from Carol.
‘You’ve actually spoken to her? Julia interrupted, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. ‘So she’s ok?’
‘She’s had a very rough time, Julia. But she’s safe now, that’s the main thing. She’s in a farmhouse on the North Yorkshire Moors and is being well taken care of until we get there. She told us the man who took her is one of her tenants, Dan Smithson. He took her to a cottage, then out on to the moor. She managed to get away from him and was found by a farmer this morning, in his barn. He took her to his home. That’s where she is now. The local police are with her.’
‘Dan Smithson?‘ said Fiona, slowly, as she put two and two together. ‘So, he lured her there by pretending there was an emergency... the water leak?’
‘I’m afraid so. We don’t have all the details yet, so the sooner we talk to Carol, the better. Are we ready to go?’ she asked, heading for the door.
‘What about Pauline? Is she with her?’ Gayle turned back to catch Fiona looking at her, curiously.
‘I’m afraid not. We’re very concerned for her. Her husband is due to arrive back in the country later today.’
‘Oh God, has something happened to her?’ Fiona put her hand to her mouth.
‘What’s happened to Pauline?’ Julia, interjected, her voice rising again.
Gayle shook her head, putting her hands up. ‘I can’t tell you anything more at the moment. I’m sorry. Let’s just go.’ She walked through into the hall, heading for the front door.
‘What about Smithson?’ asked Fiona, following Gayle. ‘Has he been caught, yet? Why did we need a policeman here with us?’
Gayle eased into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt, before twisting round to look at Fiona in the back seat. ‘He hasn’t been found yet,’ she said. ‘There’s a search taking place right now. We’re looking
for him and his car, as well as the cottage he’s been using. Turning to Julia, she said ‘Apparently, he made some threats about you, Julia. That’s why we had the officers at the house.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Fiona muttered.
‘What threats?’ Julia demanded.
‘That’s all I know for now. No point in speculating. We’ll find out more when we speak to your mother.’ Gayle turned back to the front and settled into her seat.
Georgia manoeuvred the car out of the drive, heading for the A19. The day was overcast, intermittent showers forecast.
Fiona spoke from the back seat. ‘How much can one person go through? Her nightmare started with my dad’s death and hasn’t stopped since. It’s enough to make anyone lose their mind. Thank God she’s safe.’
After a while, Gayle noticed Julia had barely said a word since getting into the car. ‘Are you ok, Julia?’ she asked, twisting round again to look at her. ‘You’re very quiet.’
‘I’m trying to take it all in. I’m just so relieved Mum’s ok but I can’t bear to think about what she might have gone through. And Pauline. I’m worried about what’s happened to her.’ Fiona put her arm around Julia, and Gayle was pleased to see Julia lean into her this time.
Soon they were approaching the turn off from the A19 on to the A174. By then, the threatened rain showers had become a reality and the wipers were working overtime to cope with the deluge. Georgia had to concentrate hard on her driving and was hunched forward over the wheel, the rhythmic swish and thud of the wipers loud inside the car.
They took a series of B roads, heading towards Pickering, then turned north. Before long they found themselves on a narrow road, climbing and winding through open moorland. The rain had eased somewhat, but a fine drizzle persisted, and the noise of the wipers seemed to discourage conversation. They were in a valley known as the Hole of Harcum, named by many as the Devil’s Punchbowl. As they climbed out of the valley, the moor spread out before them, vast and remote, the landscape becoming more bleak and windswept.
Looking out over the barren moor, and trying to avoid potholes, Georgia said, with feeling, ‘God, look how bleak it is up here. She must have been terrified, running all night, not knowing if he was behind her. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Thank God she managed to get away from him.’
Gayle gave her a warning frown, glancing to the back seats, hoping her comments hadn’t been overheard.
They followed the narrow road as it wound through heather and gorse, splashing through puddles and sending spray in all directions, before turning on to single-track dirt road, leading to the farmhouse. After bumping and jolting for about half a mile, they arrived at their destination exactly two and a half hours after leaving Newcastle. They saw a low two-story stone building before them. It looked rather picturesque, with casement windows, and smoke curling from a huge chimney on the gable. Gayle could imagine how it would look in summer, bathed in sunlight, with the climbing roses that framed the front door, in full bloom. Georgia parked the car in the large cobbled area to the front of the house, scattering the hens roaming freely around.
‘Well done, I’m impressed,’ said Gayle. ‘Looks like you managed to miss all the hens.’
In the kitchen, the two officers introduced themselves and Rachel told them Carol was asleep in the sitting room.
They moved into the adjoining utility room to speak privately. The DI told Gayle that the farmer, Joe Carter told them he’d found Carol Barrington burrowed into a bundle of hay in one of his remote barns, high on the moor, where he’d gone to pick up some equipment. She was terrified when he woke her and kept saying over and over that someone was trying to kill her. When she realised he wanted to help her, she told him she’d got away from ‘him’ and had run and walked all night long, not daring to stop. She was dishevelled, exhausted, with many cuts and bruises on her legs, hands and face.
‘Joe Carter will be here shortly. He’s just seeing to some livestock. His wife, Mary, is here. The doctor’s examined Carol and confirmed her injuries are not life-threatening. They consist mainly of severe bruising, possible cheekbone fractures, abrasions and bites. She needs to be fully checked over in hospital, but the doc is of the opinion that can wait until after she’s been questioned.’ He put his notebook back in his pocket.
The DI confirmed that a helicopter was searching the area right then, looking for any sign of Justin Green, and his car, the large light-coloured Peugeot that Carol had described. There were also men on foot, with dogs, combing the area.
‘We have confirmation from a local Estate Agent that he let a cottage to a Justin Green a month or so ago. There’s a forensic team at the cottage as we speak,’ he added. ‘There’s no sign of Green.’
‘Thanks, Bill. We’ve got a team on their way down. Let’s hope we find the bastard soon.’
Rachel brought Gayle up to speed about her interview with Carol and confirmed she’d been beaten and raped. ‘She’s in the sitting room, now. She’s been sleeping on and off. She’s clearly traumatised.’
With Georgia, Gayle went back through into the kitchen, where she bumped into the farmer’s wife. Gayle saw a kind, open face, with lots of laughter lines, all framed by dark, curly hair, sprinkled with grey. Mary told Gayle that Carol had fallen asleep as soon as the doctor had left. She briefly described how Carol was filthy and covered in bruises, cuts and scratches when she arrived.
‘I wanted to clean her up, but thought it best not to, in case it spoiled any evidence... she could do with a bath, mind.’
‘Thank you Mary, you did the right thing. I need to talk to her now, and then we’ll get her off to hospital for a full check-up. They’ll clean her up then, don’t worry.’
Just then a tall, ruddy-faced man came into the kitchen.
‘This is my husband, Joe. He found Carol in the barn.’
Gayle shook his hand and asked if he would give a statement to Georgia, after they’d seen Carol. Mary picked up the tray of steaming mugs of tea, and headed for the sitting room.
‘That poor girl were in a right state, I don’t mind telling you. Never seen anyone so scared in all me life.’ Joe volunteered. ‘At least she’s safe now.’
Gayle followed Mary into a cosy room where a blazing log fire radiated warmth from the depths of an inglenook fireplace. Carol looked awful. She was lying on the settee, covered up to her chin with a blue patterned wool blanket. Her face was like parchment, swollen in places, livid bruises forming on her cheeks. Her eyes were closed. Julia was on her knees beside the settee, stroking Carol’s hand and talking gently to her. Gayle could hear the relief in her voice as she told her mum how glad she was that she was safe.
Mugs of tea were handed round and Julia and Fiona tried to help Carol to sit up to drink it, but she pushed them away and sank wearily back on to the pillows.
‘It’s good to see you, Carol. We’ve been so concerned,’ Gayle said, gently touching her hand. Tears welled in Carol’s eyes. ‘Do you feel up to telling us what happened?’ Gayle asked, studying her closely. Her blonde hair looked like a dirty, matted rug, and as well as the bruising and swelling to her face, her lips were cracked and split and her sunken eyes had a haunted look.
‘Yes.’ she whispered.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Mary said, walking to the door. ‘Make sure the lass drinks that tea.’
Gayle suggested it would be best if Fiona and Julia went with Mary, but Carol put her hand on Fiona’s arm and shook her head.
‘Let them stay.’ she said quietly. She looked at Fiona, still holding on to her arm. ‘I need to tell you something,’ she gulped. ‘He... he murdered Peter.’
Fiona recoiled in shock. ‘My Dad? He murdered my Dad?’ her voice rose alarmingly and the colour suddenly drained from her face. Gayle guided her to an easy chair and made her sit down, quietly asking Georgia to add plenty of sugar to Fiona’s tea, to combat the shock. ‘So... it must have been him... in the photograph? But... Tim said it definitely
wasn’t.’
‘He sent his brother to answer the door,’ Carol’s voice was barely a whisper.
‘So that’s the explanation,’ said Gayle. ‘I wish you’d told me about the photograph, Carol. If you’d mentioned it before you went to South Shields, all this might have been avoided. If I’d seen it, I would have recognised Justin Green and stopped you from putting yourself in danger.’
‘Tim said it wasn’t ... I thought I was just being paranoid... oh, I’ve been so stupid...’
‘Well, be that as it may. How do you know that Dan Smithson, or to give him his real name, Justin Green, murdered Peter?’
‘He told me...’ said Carol, in a small voice. ‘Said it was like taking candy from a baby.’
Fiona wailed loudly and Julia rushed to put her arms around her.
‘Look, I think we all need to take a little time to calm down. I’ll give you a few minutes.’ Gayle slipped out of the room, and Georgia followed.
‘I can’t fucking believe this, Georgia. She’s an intelligent woman. Why didn’t she mention the photograph when she told me she was going to see him? How could she be so bloody stupid?’ Gayle was furious.
‘Well, playing devil’s advocate, she did try to find out whether it was the tenant. No doubt if this Tim had confirmed her suspicions, she would have come straight to you.’
‘Right.’ said Gayle, taking a deep breath, ‘Let’s go back in.’
‘You ok now, Fiona?’ Gayle asked as they walked into the room. Fiona, who was still slumped in the chair, clutching her mug, nodded.
Look,’ Gayle said gently, taking the stool next to Carol, ‘I know you’ve had a terrible ordeal, but it’s really important that I take your statement. Are you able to tell me what happened, from the beginning? I’m so sorry the police failed to turn up at the flat. They were involved in an accident when they were on their way to you.’
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