by AB Morgan
‘Mum. I can speak for myself.’
‘No. I have something important to say to Mr Know-it-all. My son couldn’t save his wife because he didn’t know the house was on fire when he was called in to work in the middle of the night.’
‘Mum!’
‘The coroner’s report–’ Konrad tried to account for his actions but was verbally swatted by Felicity who was ignoring the pleas from her son to hold her tongue.
‘I’m his mother, I know what the report said, but you haven’t read it properly have you? Because if you had, then you would be aware of the important fact that exonerated my son.’ Felicity spat her words at Konrad.
‘Which was?’
Barney was about to blow his nose, but stopped short, holding the tissue in place, waiting for the reply to Konrad’s question. Annette put her hand on Barney’s knee and squeezed tight, making him wince as he witnessed Rory placing his head in his hands.
‘Anosmia,’ Felicity said.
Silence.
Annette, Barney and Konrad exchanged three-way glances before staring at Rory.
‘Oh, God, I’m so thick!’ Annette blurted out suddenly. ‘I should have worked that out.’ She slapped her ample thighs and tutted, loudly berating herself. ‘Idiot.’
‘Anosmia?’ Konrad levelled his question to Annette, who beamed.
‘Rory has no sense of smell.’
Barney blew his nose, smiling. ‘Now tell me, Cyclops, who backed the wrong bloody horse?’
34
Call for the Truth
Within two hours they were back in the pub, drinks in hand. The takeaway menu for The Bengal Brasserie lay discarded on the bar next to the scribbled order that had been placed minutes earlier by Annette. Barney picked it up and rubbed his rounded belly, licking his lips.
‘Oh, yes. This was a cracking idea and excellent for flu symptoms. How long ’til they deliver?’
‘Forty minutes or so. Rob, bless him, said we can all use the dining room, his crockery and cutlery, so no washing up either. Steve doesn’t know what he’s missing.’
After ending a call, Konrad placed his mobile phone in an inside pocket of his jacket. He slipped the knot, took the loop over his head, and stuffed his silk tie unceremoniously into another pocket, settling back to drink his first pint of the evening, one elbow on the bar.
‘Lorna on her way, Cyclops?’
‘No, she’s staying at home. She’ll pick me up later. I said we’d ordered plenty of curry to go round, but she’s totally absorbed in the newsfeeds coming from the press conference and she’s working on a piece for the breakfast show as well as trying to track down Gemma Waterford. Anyway, it’ll give me a break from the piss-taking. She can’t let go of the fact that I read the coroner’s report as saying Rory had “insomnia”, rather than “anosmia”. How was I to know? I’m proper dyslexic at the best of times, but words with almost the same letters … come on. Besides, it made sense. You were bound to have insomnia after being assaulted as badly as that, weren’t you Rory? It’s trauma, for God’s sake.’
‘Your inaccurate assumptions about me, Mr Neale, have done enough damage for one evening.’ Rory raised his glass towards Barney, enjoying the chance to make Konrad feel shamefaced once again.
‘He took his eye off the ball.’
‘Very funny, Barney,’ Konrad replied.
‘I can see why you asked Quinn about Gemma but I’m not sure it helped my cause. I only saw her yesterday and she was fine, apart from being infuriating,’ Rory said, not expecting Konrad to explain himself.
‘We’ll have our answer soon enough.’
Rob had actively deterred members of the press from intruding at the pub, by placing a sign on the front door announcing that the bar was closed due to a private function. ‘It’s not a lie.’ The locals were familiar with that particular ruse, as it had been used previously to protect the privacy of Konrad and his family. Those in the know made their way through a rear entrance.
‘D’ya mind if I ask a question about your asomnia thing? Can you taste curry?’ Barney asked.
‘It’s pronounced ay-noz-mee-ar. Curry? It’s my favourite. I can feel the heat of the chilli and black pepper, but I’ll probably stink of garlic without even knowing it.’
‘Won’t we all.’ Annette patted Rory’s arm. ‘Feeling okay about your secrets being made public?’ She sought reassurance in his eyes, but Rory merely shrugged, saying ‘I’ll have to be, won’t I?’
‘It’s probably for the best. Look what happens when people take wayward guesses.’ She aimed a finger at Konrad. ‘The facts speak for themselves and I thought the Chief Superintendent did a pretty good job of stopping the gossipmongers in their tracks this evening, if nothing else.’
The village hall had been packed with members of the press, crime desk journalists from national and local papers, BBC local radio and television news reporters. There was barely enough room for the residents of Lower Marton to squeeze in at the back. Of those that had, many gave sideways glances to Rory with loudly whispered disapproval accompanying their threatening glares and fingers levelled at his head.
Annette had gone out of her way to stare back, smiling sweetly and saying a polite “good evening” as they turned their heads away. Barney sensed Rory’s need to stay close to his friends and made sure they stood near to an exit should a diplomatic retreat be required. A few minutes before proceedings began, from the open fire exit behind them, there had come a squeaking and creaking, making Barney pivot around. He was relieved to catch sight of a broad smile sweeping across Rory’s anxious face as he greeted a welcome latecomer. ‘Steve. Glad you could make it.’ The two shook hands and then embraced with manly slaps on the back. Barney realised that he’d rarely seen Rory come within touching range of others, let alone allow a hug. It seemed Steve was the only person in whom Rory had confided about his inability to detect smell.
‘I thought you’d decided not to turn up.’
‘I got delayed by a fuckin’ toe-rag.’ Steve gestured with his thumb as if hitching a ride, ‘Wayne Fewtrell was outside just now beating his chest, stamping his feet and threatening to smash your handsome face in for shopping him to the fuzz and for grassing up his granddad. So I put him straight on one or two things, he retaliated and the local cops have taken him away to cool off in a cell.’
‘Nice one. I thought you were a bit out of breath.’
‘It was worth it, eh? Very satisfying for an old scrapper,’ Steve said, rubbing the knuckles on his right hand.
On stage, behind three long trestle tables swathed in deep-blue coloured tablecloths, sat Chief Superintendent Clive Perley, at his right DS Quinn and to his left, Anna Chamberlain’s parents, subdued and sombre. Next to where Scott and Joyce Pardew were seated was an empty chair.
‘Where’s Gemma?’ Annette asked looking at Rory who answered with a shrug. Konrad picked up on the exchange and was about to make further enquiries when the listening audience was asked for silence. They were addressed by the senior police officer who spoke into a bank of microphones set before him. He introduced himself and the others on the stage before defining the tone of the evening.
‘There have been inaccurate and damaging rumours circulating regarding the incidents that took place on Quarry Farm Lane earlier this week, and particularly in regard to the disappearance of Anna Chamberlain. The record will be put straight this evening on several matters.
‘Firstly; I can confirm that a number of arrests were made in relation to abduction, false imprisonment, offences against vulnerable adults and a series of serious sexual offences. The persons believed to be responsible for these alleged offences have been charged and are now on remand pending court proceedings and sentencing for those crimes. Secondly; the Eastern European men found at the premises of number two Quarry Farm Lane, who were housed in poor accommodation and held in miserable gang worker conditions, are being cared for. Charges under the Modern Slavery Act, employment law and relating to health and safety, hav
e been applied.
‘I would like to make it abundantly clear that no further arrests are expected in relation to these offences … including the abduction of Anna Chamberlain.’ The Chief Superintendent’s intense blue eyes flitted from face to face in the audience. ‘However, we continue to seek the public’s assistance in locating her. Anna remains a missing person and we are extremely concerned for her welfare. Despite extensive searches of the properties on Quarry Farm Lane and the surrounding fields, the village of Swandale, and scrutiny of available CCTV footage, we have been unable to trace her whereabouts. Our search now widens to public transport networks. If you have any information please contact us immediately at Hollberry Police Headquarters. Her parents are desperate for news. Finally; whatever you have read in the press or heard about through idle tittle-tattle or in social media, regarding one of the most significant witnesses to these crimes, please disregard. These stories are inaccurate and unfounded. Without the assistance of those people questioned by us during the course of our investigation we would not have made such rapid progress or been able to make formal charges against the parties involved. Do I make myself clear to the ladies and gentlemen of the press? Questions?’
A hand shot into the air. ‘Figures released under the Freedom of Information Act suggest that this year alone, your police department have received over twenty official complaints in relation to Leonard Fewtrell’s business premises and the behaviour of himself and his family. Can you say why police did nothing to act on those specific reports until after the events of the most recent Bank Holiday weekend?’ The question had come from the front of the room.
‘Could you say your name and the organisation you represent, please?’
‘Lorna Yates for Channel Seven News.’
Konrad smiled across at Annette.
Mouthing the words ‘Oh my God,’ she grinned back and nudged Barney to whisper in his ear. ‘Crafty Kon has planted Lorna in the press section.’ Barney craning his neck to see over the heads of those in front of him, failed to catch a glimpse of Konrad’s fiancée but didn’t miss the uncomfortable reaction from Clive Perley.
‘I don’t have the specific facts relating to each of those complaints but can reassure you that they will have been looked into and the appropriate action taken. Next question.’
‘Brian Jakes, Daily Herald. Have firearms offences relating to Mr Fewtrell been investigated in the past month?’
‘All matters relating to such offences will come under our current investigation.’
‘But wasn’t there a report of threats to local garages which involved a shotgun only last week?’
‘As I said, our investigation is on-going.’
Having poured doubt on the efficiency of the police, the press clamoured for the facts relating to Rory and his part in the investigations.
‘Is it true that Dylan Fewtrell has been arrested and charged on suspicion of the abduction and rape of Anna Chamberlain?’
‘As I said, a number of arrests have been made and charges have been brought against those accused of the crimes outlined.’
‘Is it the case that the next-door neighbour was the last person to see Anna Chamberlain alive?’
‘No, that is not the case. She was seen alive at Fewtrell’s Yard two days after being seen by Mr Norton.’ A ripple of uncertainty made its way around the hall as the reporter asked another question. ‘But it is true that Mr Norton was previously assaulted by Anna Chamberlain when she was a patient of his at a mental health unit in Devon, isn’t it?’
The disquiet from the collective audience came in a wave of muffled noise.
‘Yes, that is an accurate fact. Mr Norton was at the time a registered mental health nurse and the incident was unfortunate. It was not, as was reported in some papers, the reason for him resigning his position and retiring from work within the NHS.’
Rory turned to Steve and Barney. ‘He shouldn’t be discussing confidential information about me at a bloody press conference. What the fuck is he doing?’
Konrad had already had a similar thought. He shouted in a booming voice from the back of the hall, ‘Objection, sir! This is a press conference to help in a missing person enquiry, not to put an innocent man on trial by journalism.’ Konrad made his move and strode to the front of the hall. ‘Anna’s parents are sitting there; may I remind you. And I’m sure they would prefer to hear what the police and press are going to do in terms of helping to find their daughter. I suggest you move on.’
‘Hear, hear!’
A heavy stillness came over the room. Chief Superintendent Perley appeared to falter, unable to gather his thoughts. ‘Yes. Quite right. I do apologise.’
Poster sized photographs of Anna had been placed around the walls and propped against the tables on stage. She smiled out at the crowds with her shining dark hair cut into a long bob, lively brown eyes and a winning smile. Her tragic life story had been carried in the popular newspapers the day before, most detailing her husband’s death and her subsequent battle with depression. Almost all had made suppositions about who may have abducted her. Once the reporters had wind of Anna’s assault on Rory, and his association with her more recently, the unwavering fingers of blame had marked him out. That was until the moment when the Chief Superintendent had put matters straight by placing Rory’s private life in the spotlight.
‘Double edged sword, mate,’ Steve offered by way of compensation for his friend’s forlorn expression. ‘It a bit of a ‘mare but at least they’ll stop the nonsense smear campaign. Ignorant fuckwits.’
Chief Superintendent Perley could do no more than hand proceedings over to Anna’s father who mustered enough courage to implore the British public to help in finding his daughter. Annette found herself sobbing into a handful of tissues meant for Barney as Scott Pardew appeared to struggle reading through his prepared entreaty. He stood, a sheet of paper held firmly in his hands.
‘Without the determination of Anna’s cousin Gemma, who unfortunately can’t be with us this evening, and the uncompromising efforts by Mr Rory Norton, no one would be looking for Anna right now.’
Scott could be seen seeking out Rory’s face in the crowd. Aiding his quest, the villagers turned again to face the man they had accused. He was standing next to Steve, and shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, head bowed, self-conscious. A slow clap of appreciation rang out as Anna’s father, who stood half-hidden behind the cluster of microphones, tried to express his gratitude.
‘I can’t thank Rory enough. I don’t have the words. He tried to get my daughter access to local mental health services but he was ignored. Her doctor failed her, the crisis services failed her, and until now the police and public have failed her. Please, please help us. We have to find her. She is mentally very unwell and may not even know that she needs help. She may be sleeping rough. So if you think you see a young lady looking like Anna, don’t hesitate. Phone the police.
‘Anna - my darling Anna - if you’re out there and you can hear me, go to the nearest hospital and tell them your name. They will call us. Me and your mum will come for you.’
Scott Pardew’s voice faded away. Joyce had become overwhelmed by the emotion of the situation and, as he sat back in his seat, she collapsed sobbing within his arms, hiding her face in his shoulder.
Rory thought it odd that Gemma failed to attend the press conference. He registered the scene. There was something else unnatural about it, but he couldn’t work out what that was.
Konrad spoke again from the press section at the front of the hall. ‘Chief Inspector Quinn, are you able to say why Gemma Waterford is unable to attend this evening? You must have heard the rumours that she too has gone missing.’
Quinn blanched.
‘We have no official reports that Gemma Waterford is deemed a missing person. As far as we are aware she has returned home to deal with a personal matter.’
Annette jabbed Rory’s side. ‘Has she?’
‘How the hell would I know?’
> ‘Have you got her phone number?’
‘No, why the hell would I have that?’
‘Who has?’
‘I don’t bloody know …’
Members of the press could be seen reaching for their phones and scribbling furiously on note pads as the superintendent ended the press conference. ‘No more questions. That is all for now. There will be a press update as soon as we have something to report. Good night.’
A reverential hush fell, allowing the subdued crowd of local people to leave the village hall and head back to their homes or cars in a steady stream. Each one seemed painfully burdened by the story of the missing woman whose beautiful face smiled at them from the posters, many were probably thinking about her cousin who had mysteriously disappeared. Their chatter was only disturbed by the sound of motorcycle exhaust noise as Steve made his way through the streets of Lower Marton.
‘Did I hear correctly? Dylan Fewtrell has been charged with abduction and sexual assault on Anna Chamberlain, even though she’s still missing? How is that possible?’ Annette asked, ladling a spoonful of chickpea dahl into the one remaining space on her plate. ‘Kon, you mentioned a CCTV camera the police had thought belonged to Rory. Does this mean they have Dylan on film?’
Rory’s mouth fell open. ‘How the hell could you know about the CCTV? Even I didn’t know there was a bloody camera on my greenhouse until DS Quinn spotted it from my bedroom window.’
‘Inside information.’
‘He can’t reveal his sources,’ Barney and Annette announced in unison.
‘Well in that case you’ll already know I was discounted as a suspect on the grounds that not one of my fingerprints appeared on the camera or the greenhouse and because it was proved to have been purchased by Anna through her Amazon account.’ Rory looked around surreptitiously, checking to see who was within eavesdropping distance. ‘It appears she set it up as part of her spying campaign against the Fewtrells.’