Epitaph: a gripping murder mystery

by Anita Waller

  Shirley turned to the DS. ‘I categorically deny I was out that night. Whoever has identified me is mistaken, and I won’t be saying another word without a solicitor by my side. I have no idea why you think it’s okay to set me up for this, and it’s possibly because you’re under pressure to deliver a result, but you’ve got the wrong person with me. And that’s my last word.’

  Harriet gathered up the papers in front of her. ‘I’ll organise a duty solicitor for you, Shirley. You’ll be taken to a cell until that happens, and I’ll see you later.’

  ‘You said I wasn’t being arrested.’ Juliet Vickers was angry; the inference was that Fiona had lied. Grace said nothing, leaving Fiona to respond.

  ‘I did not say that at all. I asked if you had done anything to merit that action, and when you said no, I advised staying quiet until you were on tape. You are now safe to speak as the tape is running, and you are about to be questioned under caution.’

  Grace didn’t let the internal smile show. ‘Mrs Vickers, you said when we questioned you last week that you were at home on the evening of the second of May, 2019. Is that correct, or do you want to amend your statement?’

  ‘Of course it’s correct. Ask my mother and father, they will vouch for me. I went to bed early and watched television until I fell asleep.’

  ‘What did you watch?’

  ‘Emmerdale. I watch it every night.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Nothing. I went to sleep at the end of it.’

  ‘It seems to have been a night for going to sleep early. Your partner in crime, Shirley Ledger, says she was asleep by eight o’clock too. But, you see, I have a problem with this sleeping on this particular night. I have a witness who places you in Calverton, then a few minutes later at a small roundabout a few hundred yards from Melanie Brookes’ home. Sorry, the late Melanie Brookes’ home.’

  ‘Not me,’ Juliet said, her voice level increasing. ‘I was at home with my parents, and my children in their room. Whoever has told you this is lying.’

  ‘They have no reason to lie. They were out that night simply doing their jobs, taxi drivers picking up at one point and delivering the client to another. It’s interesting that Shirley Ledger was picked up close to where she was residing temporarily, and dropped off at the bridge where Ms Brookes was murdered, and you were picked up where your parents live and where you are residing temporarily and delivered really close to Ms Brookes’ house.’

  ‘Not me,’ Juliet repeated. ‘And I need a solicitor, please. Our family solicitor, Penelope Tarbutt.’

  Grace gathered together her paperwork and with dignity, walked towards the door. She paused and turned. ‘You’ll be taken to your cell in a few moments. We’ll attempt to contact your solicitor, and if we do, I will recommence the interview later today. That will be an interesting conversation, as I believe your friend is speaking about all sorts of things.’

  Grace closed the interview room door and took a deep breath. ‘Cow,’ she muttered.

  ‘Yeah, but nice one, boss,’ Fiona said, ‘telling her Shirley is already talking. Is she?’

  ‘Not yet, but she will.’

  The note on Grace’s desk asked her to contact Paul in forensics, and she smiled at the thought of the geeky young man with the round dark-framed glasses and the prominent dimple in his chin. She picked up the phone.

  ‘Good afternoon, ma’am. I was in the middle of typing up a report to send to you with the details, but the gist of it is that Shirley Ledger has two phones, her personal one and a business one. It seems she has a business called Rosebay Willowherb. Both these phones were left at reception, along with her bag, when she was booked in. Her personal phone showed no phone calls in or out for a period from the evening of the first of May until she turned up again when you found her.’

  Grace wanted to say Doris found her. ‘She said she hadn’t used it, she didn’t want us tracking her down.’

  ‘She used the other one, though. During the afternoon of the following day she made a five-minute call to the deceased, Melanie Brookes, then a two-minute thirty-second call to Global Systems, followed by a twenty-minute one, half an hour later to Juliet Vickers, then a further two-minute call to Melanie Brookes. All were made on the business phone. She hasn’t made any calls in the past to these numbers on this phone. The call to Juliet Vickers was to her landline, so presumably she didn’t know her mobile number. It is an ex-directory number. It’s all on the report I’ll be sending in about five minutes. I’ll also send you the list of everything that was inside the bag when it was left with the sarge.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Paul, and I can definitely make an educated guess as to how she got the ex-directory number, in view of the call to Global Systems. I’ll speak to DS Jameson now, she’s interviewing Shirley Ledger. You’ve got these results really quickly. Was it easy?’

  ‘Very easy. They’d hidden nothing. Didn’t delete any calls, and the Juliet Vickers number is the last one entered in the business phone contacts. I’ve asked BT for phone records for the landline where Juliet Vickers is living, so we’ll see if she made any calls out immediately after, or not. There’s nothing out of the ordinary on her mobile phone. Lots of stuff in her bag though. She had three lipsticks!’

  ‘Tools of the trade, Paul, tools of the trade.’ Grace laughed. ‘Thank you, Paul.’ She replaced the receiver and stared at it for a moment. The phone calls, she guessed, were murder arrangements being made, but what had triggered the initial one? Grace tapped on her office window and Harriet looked up, then stood up.

  ‘You want me, boss?’

  ‘I do. I’ve some new information. When you booked Shirley in, she handed her bag in.’

  Harriet nodded. ‘Standard practice.’

  ‘She had two phones.’

  ‘No! I take it we didn’t know this at the time she was insisting she didn’t use her phone because she didn’t want to be tracked by us.’

  ‘It’s a business phone. Remember Rosie telling us about the beautiful journals and books they make for their Etsy shop? Shirley has a phone dedicated to the business with the rather sweet name of Rosebay Willowherb. You might want to start off your next interview session with that little nugget of a name. I’ll have a report on that phone in a few minutes, but basically she made a short call to Melanie, followed by a short call to Global Systems, followed by a twenty-minute call to Juliet Vickers, and that was followed by a two-minute one to Melanie Brookes.’

  ‘Global Systems? Did Shirley know Kevin Vickers?’

  ‘No, I think she probably came up with something along the lines of she’d lost her phone and she wanted to contact Juliet. But guess which gobby little mouthpiece she would speak to first, who would swallow the story and give her a number she could get Juliet on.’

  Harriet swung Grace’s notes around so she was no longer reading them upside down. She studied the phone call list for a moment, and then sighed. ‘It tells a story, doesn’t it. I’ve never really bought into this thing that Shirley simply went for a drive that Wednesday night and decided not to go back. What did she discover after Mark Ledger left for his function that night, that tipped Shirley over the edge? Whatever it was, it sealed Melanie’s fate.’ Harriet glanced at her watch. ‘Where the bloody hell is that duty solicitor?’

  Grace laughed. ‘Calm down. You need the report from the lovely Paul before you go into that room. You can’t take my scribbled notes, not with that pornographic doodle on anyway.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’re no Picasso.’

  ‘So, you know what you’re doing? Lead her gently in by talking about Rosebay Willowherb, the company. Ask her to talk about it, and she will, because she loves doing what she does. Then ask how they take orders.’

  ‘And she’ll say over the phone. That’s when I jump in and say which phone. She’s not daft, that’s when she’ll know she’s been rumbled. And that’s when I start talking murder with its whole life sentence, or manslaughter with its judge’s discretion
sentence. I’ll make it sound as though the first one to tell the truth gets the manslaughter charge, without actually saying that. I’ll not say anything at this point about who the hell choked the life out of a twenty-something career woman who had everything to live for and didn’t deserve to die.’

  Grace stretched her arms and stood. ‘Water?’ She walked across to the fridge and took out two bottles.

  ‘You keep chocolate in there as well?’

  ‘No, water and peach tea. You want a peach tea instead?’

  Harriet pulled a face. ‘I’ll stick with the water, thanks. Let’s hope by tomorrow we’re needing champagne.’

  Grace’s attention was distracted by the ping announcing an email, and she opened up the message from Paul. She forwarded it to Harriet’s computer, then printed it off for closer study.

  Harriet returned to her own desk to look at the report before printing it for her own file, and a minute later stood and ran back to Grace’s office. Grace was leaving her office to go to Harriet.

  ‘Have you seen…?’ they said in unison.

  37

  Several things happened that day. The receipt found in the small pocket inside Shirley’s bag for flowers delivered to Melanie Brookes’ home was placed into an evidence bag.

  Imogen North took a telephone call from DCI Grace Stamford, asking if she received a call on the afternoon of the second of May from Shirley Ledger wanting Juliet Vickers’ telephone number, and she was surprised to find that they knew about it. ‘I did,’ she said, ‘but please keep it to yourself because if Mr Vickers finds out I gave out that information, he’ll sack me. She said she was a friend and she had lost contact with her.’

  Grace smiled at the request not to tell Mr Vickers – it was highly likely that Imogen would be saying it herself, but in a court of law.

  Shirley stared at the receipt that Harriet pushed across the table, then looked to Tim Nixon for help. He merely nodded, indicating she should comply.

  ‘Do you recognise this receipt, Shirley?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It was checked into evidence, and found in the bag you handed over when you were brought here. Do you remember signing for it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where did you get it from?’

  Shirley let out an anguished cry. ‘From his fucking suit pocket that he left me to hang up.’

  ‘You searched his pockets?’

  ‘No, I picked it up off the floor where he’d dumped it, and decided it was due for cleaning. I checked his trouser pockets in case there was anything in them, then hung them on the hanger. Then I checked his coat pockets. That was in the inside pocket.’ Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.

  ‘And you recognised the name and address where the flowers were to go?’

  ‘Bloody Melanie. It’s eleven years since my husband last bought me some flowers, and he was having a large bouquet delivered to her.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘I put the receipt into my phone case cover, grabbed my phone and my bank card and did what I told you I did; I went for a drive around while I thought through my next move.’

  Sam leaned forward. ‘Can I clarify something, Mrs Ledger? Which phone did you take with you? The phone with the picture of your boys as the home screen, or the Rosebay Willowherb?’

  Again Shirley looked at Tim Nixon, who once more indicated she should answer. ‘Both,’ she whispered.

  Sam continued. ‘And did you, at any point over the period you were missing, use the iPhone with the boys on it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please remember you are still under caution, Mrs Ledger. Did you use the business iPhone with Rosebay Willowherb on it at any point during the first day of your disappearance, that is Thursday the second of May?’

  Shirley let out an unearthly screech, stood up and slammed her hands down on the table. ‘You fucking know I did, or you wouldn’t be asking me these questions. But I wasn’t the one who killed her, that was Juliet Vickers.’

  Tim Nixon’s mouth fell open.

  Shirley’s long statement confessing to luring Melanie Brookes to the small bridge where she and Juliet Vickers planned to ‘sort her out’ in order to convince her that sleeping with other people’s husbands wouldn’t be a good idea at any future point, helped Grace immensely when she finally joined Juliet Vickers and Penelope Tarbutt, her solicitor, the next morning.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday, Mrs Vickers, but we had a long and difficult day. I was also aware Ms Tarbutt was unavailable last night. I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable in the cell, and you have been fed.’

  Juliet Vickers’ stare was icy. ‘How dare you keep me here. And is it my fault you had a long and difficult day?’

  ‘Yes, actually it is,’ Grace said mildly. ‘We had to deal with Shirley Ledger’s realisation that we had so much evidence she had better cop to a manslaughter plea, and leave you to face the murder charge.’

  Juliet swung around to face Penelope. ‘Penny, for fuck’s sake, get me out of here.’

  ‘Juliet, sit down,’ Penny Tarbutt said quietly. ‘And keep your mouth shut unless I say it’s okay to open it. You think you can do that?’

  Juliet didn’t deign to reply.

  Grace continued. ‘You went for an evening run with Melanie Brookes, one you organised whereby you accidentally bumped into her as she was leaving home. Or maybe you called at her home and asked her to accompany you as you fancied a run, but didn’t want to be on your own at that time of night. You knew running was a big part of Melanie’s life and she wouldn’t say no. On the way back, she went into a Chinese takeaway and bought you both a meal. You then walked back as far as the bridge, eating the meal. At the bridge, Shirley appeared from the trees at the side, and you strangled her while Shirley looked on expecting you to eventually stop to let her recover. But she died, didn’t she, Juliet.

  ‘You then both got her down to the river, and threw her in, holding on to her bag to take home with you. As we speak, there is a team of officers at your parents’ home, doing a remarkably thorough search. Did you ever intend Melanie to recover from that strangulation, Juliet? Or did you always intend she would die? She’d ruined your marriage, sending you back to sharing a house with your controlling parents – who, by the way, are going to be pretty pissed off with you. It’s not a nice feeling having your house turned upside down.’

  ‘Utter rubbish,’ Juliet said, shrugging off Penny’s restraining hand. ‘It was Shirley who strangled her. I tried to make her let go, but she kept gripping tighter. I tried to revive Melanie, but it was obvious she was dead.’

  ‘How did you meet Shirley in the first place?’

  ‘I ordered one of their journals, and she came to my parents’ house with samples of what they do. I chose what I wanted, and I told her why I was there, with my parents. I mentioned Melanie’s name as being the tart Kevin had slept with, and he had been stupid enough to let me find out by Imogen North telling me. I left him immediately.’

  ‘Did Shirley contact you to discuss the plan to frighten Melanie, after she’d found a receipt?’

  Juliet suddenly realised that she was saying too much, and she turned to her solicitor. Penny simply ignored her.

  ‘For the flowers? Yes. She did. Her words were, “let’s give her a good hiding. We’ll both feel better for it, and we can get on with our lives.”’

  Grace stood. ‘Thank you, Mrs Vickers. I’m going to leave you with PC Harte now, who will take your statement. I will need to speak with you further before you’re charged with this murder…’

  Juliet stood. ‘Charged with murder? But I didn’t…’

  Penny Tarbutt also stood. ‘Sit down, Juliet,’ she said wearily. ‘Fucking sit down.’

  Got them! Blaming each other for strangulation, but CPS advise both charged with murder. Result. Big thanks to both of you for our taxi drivers.

  Doris read out the message to a sleepy Wendy as they sat in deck chairs in the back
garden, the sun streaming down on them.

  Wendy opened her eyes. ‘Awesome! Did we do that?’

  ‘Escalated it, I think. They would have eventually got to the point of thinking taxis, because Harriet was already working on alibis and lies, but your head is in taxis so we got there first because of that.’

  ‘Happy to help,’ Wendy said with a smile, and closed her eyes again. She didn’t want to tell Doris how bad the pain was getting; it was easy to hide it behind closed eyes.

  ‘I have to ring Rosie. She must be going through hell. We had to cancel their visit here, so maybe we can invite them over for the day before you head back to Sheffield and Bingo Jen.’

  ‘You’re going to the funerals?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘I’d like to go with you, if that’s okay.’

  ‘Of course it is. I’m dreading you going back home, if I’m honest. You’ve been a giant-sized rock for me throughout this. Ever since I got that letter from Rosie addressed to Harry, I’ve felt a bit adrift.’

  ‘I know,’ Wendy said, her eyes still closed. ‘But as time goes on it’ll fade into the distance. Don’t lose touch with Hucknall, though. Promise me that.’

  ‘I won’t. They’re going to need a lot of support. Some hard times are coming for the two little boys, they’re not even twelve yet. And as you know, I’ve taken a real shine to Megan.’

  The women slipped into their own thoughts and allowed the sun to use its healing warmth on their bodies.

  ‘Wendy, you asleep?’

  ‘Not yet. Give me five minutes.’

  ‘You want a drink?’

  ‘Water and a couple of paracetamol, please. Shall I get the drinks?’

  ‘No, you stay there. And when you go home, you go to the doctors. These headaches aren’t normal.’

  Wendy’s eyes remained closed. ‘I will. It’s a throbbing one today. I should have taken the tablets earlier, but I was a bit wobbly when I stood up, so I sat back down again. I’ll be fine when I’ve swallowed them.’