Epitaph: a gripping murder mystery

by Anita Waller

  20

  It was agreed that Shirley would stay with Trudy until she could move into Fuchsia Cottage at the end of the week, but it was also agreed that Shirley would ring DCI Stamford the following day.

  ‘Don’t avoid doing it, Shirley. They’re out there looking for your dead body.’ Rosie frowned. ‘In fact, don’t tell her, I’ll ring first thing in the morning and let her know where you are. They’ll be here to see you by lunchtime, or even earlier, I’m sure. I don’t trust you to do it. You’ve morphed into somebody I don’t know at all.’

  Shirley sighed. ‘I’ll ring her at eight. If she’s not there I’ll leave a message with somebody, I promise. I haven’t changed towards you, Rosie, I’ve changed towards the thing that I married and who thinks he has control over me. He doesn’t.’

  ‘I’ll make sure she rings the police,’ Trudy said. ‘She’ll not be on her own, either, when they do come to see her.’

  ‘Okay, thank you, Trudy. Let’s go and sort this bill out. I’ll pay it, Shirley shouldn’t use her credit card until she’s told the police she’s not dead, not even missing. They’re monitoring her account.’

  A look of fear flashed across Shirley’s face. ‘Mark doesn’t know I have a separate account, does he?’

  ‘No, I haven’t told him. Of course I haven’t, numpty.’

  Doris smiled. ‘Will you two kiss and make up? You shouldn’t be fighting battles in opposite camps; you should be on the same side. Rosie, I know you’re worried for Shirley but she isn’t involved in the death of Melanie Brookes. All she did was leave her husband and not tell anybody. Not tell you. Be good girls and stop fighting.’

  Rosie erupted into laughter. ‘You’re a star, Doris. Come here, Shirley.’

  The two sisters hugged and Shirley wiped away a tear. ‘It’s been a bad few days, but I will get my boys. I’ve left Mark and I’m not going back.’

  ‘What about his ironing?’ Rosie tried to keep a straight face.

  ‘Balls to his damned ironing,’ was Shirley’s immediate response.

  ‘It’s testicles, Aunty Shirley,’ said Megan. ‘Mum says so.’

  Doris delivered Megan and Rosie back home, and set off for the long drive back to Bradwell. She was tired; it had been emotional, but it would have been so much worse if the alarm bells hadn’t rung when she contacted the guest house owner, now proven to be Trudy, and recognised the response as being a little off kilter.

  The journey was fortunately uneventful, and Doris and Wendy were glad to see the outside lights of Little Mouse Cottage.

  ‘This cottage looks so pretty at night,’ Wendy mused. ‘No amount of fancy lighting could make my semi look like this.’ She opened the passenger door. ‘I’ll unlock while you put the car away. Cuppa?’

  ‘I’ll go with Horlicks, please. I’m tired but suspect I’m too wound up to sleep. We need to talk about whether we carry on with this relationship with the Hucknall people, or not.’

  Wendy looked as though she was about to say something, but merely nodded, and walked up the small front garden path.

  Satiated after a Horlicks and a slice of chocolate cake, Wendy said, ‘Well?’

  ‘They asked us to find Shirley, and we’ve done that.’

  ‘So we abandon them?’

  ‘We can’t help them solve Melanie’s murder, that would be stepping on police toes.’

  ‘You’ve done that in the past.’

  ‘Yes, but we are good friends with the police officers who are tied to our area. We don’t know this force at all.’

  ‘Apparently they know you.’

  ‘That young PC at Rosie’s house knew me, but that doesn’t mean everybody else does. No, I really think we have to walk away now.’

  ‘You don’t feel a tiny little bit that they’re family?’

  ‘No, I bloody don’t.’ Doris was a shade too quick with her response. ‘So let’s leave it at that. They’re the family of my ex-husband.’

  ‘Late husband. Not ex.’

  ‘I was right when I said ex. If you could do posthumous divorces, I would.’ Doris finished her Horlicks and stood. ‘I’m off to bed now, it’s been a long day. We’ll do something tomorrow, something different. No computer work, no chasing off to Hucknall, and tomorrow night there’s every chance I might go to the dojo for an hour. It’s over two weeks since I’ve been, they’ll think I’m dead.’

  Wendy grinned. ‘Sounds like a plan. And while you’re dojoing with your karate killers – strange word, did I make it up? – I’ll do some work on the journal. I’ve some bits to stick in, some notes to make, bit of research to do.’

  Doris smiled. She knew Wendy had given in too easy; the discussion would arise again. ‘Night and God bless, Wendy. Everything’s locked up, so nothing to do.’

  She climbed the stairs, listening to the gentle sound of Wendy having a conversation with Belle. Doris’s bedroom was her haven and she sank down onto the chaise longue, deep in thought. Had she really meant it when she said she didn’t see Rosie and Shirley as family? Was she being honest with herself?

  Rosie, Dan and Megan – especially Megan – had touched a chord in her heart, and much as she tried to squash it, it wouldn’t stay down. She knew she would ring to check that Shirley was okay, that she had contacted the police, but then it was over. She’d never met Melanie Brookes, had no interest in trying to find her killer.

  What had Rosie said? That Melanie had spent all evening chatting to Mark, leaving her partner Patrick to talk to Megan. Why? Was there some sort of relationship building between the attractive Melanie and her partner’s older brother? Would the pair of them do that to Patrick? If the answer was yes, then it put the brothers firmly in the frame for the murder. One of them anyway.

  Doris stood and moved across the room. Then she moved back again, deep in thought. She crossed the room again; seconds later she sat on the bed. It was going to be a long night.

  Rosie rang at eight. ‘Shirley’s spoken to DCI Stamford. They’re going out to see her, but Trudy has promised she will be with her. Should I go as well?’

  ‘Calm down, Rosie,’ Doris said, trying to get her voice to work properly, considering she had only been awake for twenty seconds. ‘She’s done nothing wrong. She left her home, but she doesn’t have to explain to anybody why she did it, as long as there was nothing illegal going on. Now if she had bumped off Mark first, that would be a different matter, but she didn’t. They’re only checking that she is who she says she is, that she’s gone of her own free will, that sort of thing. They’ll also want an alibi for the night Melanie was murdered, but she was with Trudy anyway, so no, you don’t need to rush off to her. She’ll need you to be there for her when she moves into the cottage, and when she fetches the boys, but she’s okay for the moment.’

  ‘Thank you, Doris. I knew you would make me feel better. We wouldn’t have found her without your help. I have the job of telling Mark; that should be fun.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him last night?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’s going to want chapter and verse of what she’s doing, who she’s with, and Shirley’s made it clear her life with him is over. I was too tired last night to cope with Mark Ledger’s temper tantrums. He was at Patrick’s anyway, which probably means they were working their way through a fair amount of alcohol.’

  Doris’s brain was starting to surface. She swung her legs out of bed to get a little more comfort. ‘I’m sorry all this has happened to you, Rosie, especially after finding out you’re not going to meet your genetic father. You’ve had a tough time. If I can ever do anything else for you, please get in touch.’

  ‘Whoa! What are you saying? Are you abandoning us? What about Shirley? What if she needs help? It’s a big thing she’s doing.’

  ‘Rosie, I’ve done what you asked. I tracked Shirley down. What else can I do?’

  ‘Be our friend?’

  Doris had stood, but hearing those three words made her sit once again, with a thud. Be our
friend? She didn’t know what to say. ‘Rosie, can I ring you back in a bit? I need a coffee or something to bring me round, I didn’t sleep too good last night. Did you?’

  ‘Hardly at all, Shirley is causing me so much worry at the moment, I can’t sleep. I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you, I’ll go now. Ring when you’re awake properly. Bye, Doris.’

  Doris stared at her phone. Be our friend.

  Wendy hadn’t surfaced to face the day when Doris went downstairs. She put on a pot of coffee, fed Belle and opened the back door. She stepped out into the early morning sunshine, and took a deep breath.

  She had decisions to make. She hadn’t counted on Harry’s illegitimate daughter turning out to be two illegitimate daughters, and certainly hadn’t counted on liking them. And Megan; there was another issue. She was a delight; bright, chatty and funny. Should she continue the relationship, build on what she had tentatively started, or should she walk away, sending them a Christmas card every year?

  Belle wove around her ankles, happy to be in her company, and both of them wandered down to the bench. Doris sat and Belle leapt up to snuggle into her lap. Her purring filled the air, and Doris smiled. She realised there was always room in her life, her heart, for others, and knew she couldn’t walk away from Harry’s daughters. It was too late. She had met them, had accepted their request for help, had got to know them. Much too late.

  ‘Belle, I need to move you. If I don’t get my coffee soon, there will be murderous thoughts in my head and that’s not good for anybody.’

  Belle looked up, then settled back down again.

  ‘I meant you need to move.’ Doris smiled. She gently lifted the cat and placed her on the ground. Belle shook her head and stalked off, an unhappy cat for the moment.

  Doris poured her coffee, and within seconds Wendy was in the doorway.

  ‘I timed that well.’ She laughed. ‘You decided where we’re going?’

  ‘Not yet. Have a coffee, I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Do we need the Ferrero Rochers cracking open?’

  ‘Could do.’

  Wendy stared at her friend, nodded and picked up the coffee pot. It was serious talk time if the little round chocolates were required.

  ‘You are funny, Doris. Did it take this much thought and worry when we first met?’

  ‘No, of course not. But Harry hadn’t fathered you. He hadn’t, had he? This potential friendship isn’t as straightforward as sharing a game of bingo, or a night out at the cinema. I don’t make friends easily; my job stopped me doing that.’

  ‘So, out of curiosity, why me? Why did we have such a strong bond?’

  ‘You made me laugh. Sometimes you made me cry with laughter. That’s a proper friendship. Rosie said this morning be our friend. Dare I?’

  ‘What’s stopping you? Mouse? Knowing your granddaughter as much as I do, she’ll welcome them with open arms. There isn’t a nasty bone in that girl’s body. So that’s ruled that objection out. Take it slowly. Learn about them by seeing them, I think eventually they’ll become proper friends. Friends who will buy you Ferrero Rochers whenever you’re a bit down. Don’t turn your back on them because you married a dickhead.’

  21

  DS Harriet Jameson was standing in front of the twelve officers on temporary allocation to the team by seven o’clock. She spoke loudly over the general hubbub that always accompanied a large group of people, and silence descended.

  ‘Okay, various courses of action today. This,’ and she tapped a list of names pinned to the whiteboard, ‘is to tell you where you’re heading as soon as we’ve finished in here. There’s been considerable activity overnight. Shirley Ledger is no longer missing. She simply walked away from her husband. The boss and I are going to interview her this morning and we’ll feed back to you later, but as it stands at the moment, she has done nothing wrong. So… on to the riverbank. It is imperative we find where Melanie Brookes was killed, and where she went into that river. Remember, she was dead before she went in, she didn’t slip, she was lifted or pushed into the water, and we need to find out where that happened.’

  Harriet moved across to the glass screen and pressed it. A map appeared, and she used a pointer as she talked. ‘We’ve taken the fact that she had eaten a Chinese meal shortly before she was killed. However, that particular meal of prawn balls and chips could easily have come from a takeaway, and eaten as she walked. It doesn’t mean she went to a Chinese restaurant. We’ve taken a three-mile radius from her home, and there are, believe it or not, four restaurants and eight takeaway shops. Within a four-mile radius you can add two to each of those categories. On the table by the door there are packs for everybody. It includes this map, and two pictures of Melanie Brookes. By the end of today we want to know where she got that meal, and if she was accompanied by anybody, even if it’s a bloody leprechaun.’

  There was some laughter in the room and Grace turned back to the map. ‘Now we move on to the riverbank. There are four bridges upstream of where she was found, which takes us to a five-mile cut-off for our search. If we find nothing by concentrating on this area, then we’ll extend until we do find something. No skimping on this. It will be a lot of hands and knees work, use knee protectors where it’s necessary, because it’s going to be a full day.’

  Harriet heard one or two comments about going over old ground, and spun round. ‘We may be going over old ground, but if we are it’s because you damn well missed something the first time. Don’t miss it this time, and particularly keep a look-out for Melanie’s bag. It’s out there somewhere, hopefully with her phone in it.’

  One or two cast their eyes downwards, and everybody moved towards the whiteboard to check their job for the day, before heading to pick up their pack. Within ten minutes the room was clear, and Harriet slumped at her desk, her head in her hands.

  ‘You okay, Harriet?’

  She looked up at Grace. ‘Yes, boss. Tired. Addie has chicken pox, and one or other of us has been up most of the night. I’ll be fine, it’s hard work telling an eighteenth-month-old Adeline Jameson that she mustn’t do something, and when it’s a “don’t scratch” directive, it’s nigh on impossible.’

  ‘Who’s she with now?’ Grace looked concerned.

  ‘Daddy’s stayed home from work. She’s chuffed to bits. He’s booked all week off to try to take the worry away from me, but I’m not worried, I’m tired.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t ever have kids, boss.’

  Grace laughed. ‘Not an earthly chance. I’d need a feller first, and this job doesn’t encourage having a private life, does it?’

  ‘Nope. We always laugh about it, because we know that if I hadn’t met my feller in primary school and stuck with him, I wouldn’t have had time to find another one. And then there would have been no chicken pox in my life. We going to see our runaway now?’

  ‘We are. I’ll drive, you close your eyes until we get there. And if you’re spark out when we arrive, I’ll leave you and lock the car doors so nobody can abduct you.’

  ‘Thanks, boss. You’re all heart.’ Harriet stood, and joined Grace as they walked the length of the briefing room.

  The gates of the guest house were open. Grace pulled in, and followed the driveway around the back. She spotted the little Ka straight away, alongside two others. Visitors’ cars, she assumed.

  The back door opened and a woman, Shirley Ledger, came out to meet them.

  Shirley held out her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Shirley Ledger.’

  ‘Hello, Mrs Ledger.’ Grace shook her hand, but decided to keep it formal for the moment. This woman hadn’t done anything illegal, but she’d certainly taken up police time spent looking for her, when a simple phone call would have told them she was okay, but didn’t want to be found.

  Grace and Harriet followed Shirley through to the residents’ lounge, and within a minute Trudy had provided a tray of tea and biscuits. She sat down beside Shirley, then leaned forward to pour out the drinks.

  ‘Do you mind if Trudy stays,’ Shirley asked
. ‘She’s been good to me since I arrived last Wednesday night, and at the moment I need a bit of support.’

  ‘That’s fine, Mrs Ledger,’ Grace said. ‘I’m pleased we haven’t found your body in a river somewhere, we have enough with finding your sister-in-law like that.’ She was deliberately harsh with her words, hoping to provoke a reaction.

  ‘Melanie wasn’t my sister-in-law, in law,’ Shirley said, then smiled. ‘That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? What I meant was that she was Patrick’s girlfriend, not his wife.’

  ‘You didn’t leave any sort of message for your husband?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘No, I only went out for a drive around the area, to get some thinking time. I enjoy driving. I grabbed my purse because I knew I might need petrol, my phone and my coat, and went. I drove around then saw a friend in some difficulty. Her name is Enid Hill. She’d gone over on her ankle and was stuck at her front gate, couldn’t put her weight on her foot. I pulled up, helped her get back inside and we chatted while I put frozen peas on it. It was while I was doing that, and telling her how much I miss my boys, that things escalated a bit. She had a house for sale, but was happy to rent it to me for as long as I needed it, and she rang Trudy to tell her to expect me that night.

  ‘It was fate, I felt. Everything happened at the right time. I came here, I left my phone switched off in the car along with my purse, and until last night when Rosie turned up, I’ve lived here free of charge. I made sure Trudy kept a tab open for me, and she’s been wonderful, but Rosie paid it all last night. I daren’t use either my phone or my bank card, because I didn’t want Mark to know where I was. I can pay my own way now, because I move into my house on Friday, come what may, and I’m going to collect my boys, probably also on Friday.’