He arranged his folder of notes before him and nodded to Anita. She nodded back, pressed record and performed the official interview introductions. Together they paused a moment, allowing the tension to build. Part of the show.
‘Ms Lane,’ Robert finally began, ‘We want to ask you some questions about the events of tonight, the 15th of November 2018. Specifically, how you, your sister and a small boy came to be covered in blood.’
Anita took up the questioning, ‘The blood is believed to be that of Mr Grant Huxley,’ she slid a photograph of Grant’s mutilated body across the table. ‘Mr Huxley’s body was found tonight at the Beesands Hotel. We’ll have the DNA results by tomorrow to confirm, but it seems a likely connection.’
Glancing at the photograph, June drew a shocked breath, a trembling hand flew to her mouth, eyes welling with tears. Robert paused, drawing out the silence. June lowered her hand to the table and swallowed hard.
Robert continued, ‘We believe you know Mr Huxley?’ He waited.
June nodded slowly, ‘Yes,’ her voice croaked, dry and strained. Robert poured her a cup of water and slid it across the table. She took it, tried a grateful smile, failed and drank.
Clearing her throat with a small cough, she continued, ‘Yes, Grant is my sister’s husband.’
‘The father of the child at the house?’
‘Jacob, my nephew. He is Eloise and Grant’s son.’
‘As you can see from the picture, Mr Huxley is dead.’
June pressed her eyes together tight. Her shoulders bunched in, shrinking down towards the table.
‘Can you tell me, Ms Lane, how you came to be covered in blood?’
June drew a shuddering breath, eyes fixed on the table, ‘I thought she was hurt. I thought Jacob…’ a sob caught in her throat. She broke off, tears streaming down her face.
‘Take your time, Ms Lane,’ Anita said. They sat patiently. June took another drink of water, two hands to steady the shaking cup. She gulped the liquid down noisily.
‘I came home and there was blood… and then I found Eloise in the nursery with Jacob. I thought they’d been attacked…’
‘Back up, Ms Lane,’ Robert interrupted gently. ‘Go back to the beginning. Where were you before you returned home and found your sister? Where were you between 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. tonight?’
June’s eyes flicked up to his and back down again. ‘I…,’ she gulped, eyes scanning the table before her, ‘I was in Salcombe. My car needed servicing. I dropped it at the garage. Benny’s Garage.’
‘At what time did you drop the car at Benny’s?’
‘Around 4:30 p.m., I think… then I caught the bus back to Torcross.’
‘Go on.’
‘I read on the bus, watched the sunset. Then I walked home. It was raining. I was annoyed that I hadn’t brought my jacket. Then,’ she paused, ‘I saw blood, like a smear from a hand, on the door frame.’
She stopped, gripping her hands before her, breath coming in shallow bursts.
‘Please continue Ms Lane,’ Robert said.
‘The door was ajar. I went inside, saw Eloise’s jacket on the table, covered in red. Ooooh,’ she let out a trembling breath, her breathing becoming more ragged. ‘I called for Eloise. But she didn’t answer. I ran to the nursery, thinking of Jacob. And there she was….’
‘What was your sister doing, Ms Lane?’ Anita prompted.
‘Singing,’ she looked up at Anita, eyes confused. ‘She was singing to Jacob. He was laying in her arms as she rocked him gently, like she was putting him to bed, or comforting him.’
‘You don’t believe the child was in danger?’
‘I… no, no Eloise would never hurt Jacob!’ Her face crumpled into tears, ‘She’d never hurt anyone…’
Robert and Anita waited. June gathered herself and continued, ‘It looked so normal, just like any night except… except she was covered in blood. Jacob too. I ran into the room and grabbed Jacob, checked him over. But he was fine, no wounds. I put him down in his crib. He started to cry. I went to Eloise. Ran my hands over her, she seemed fine too. But there was so much blood.’ She broke off looking down at her hands, at the dried blood still under her nails. ‘I looked into her eyes, Lou’s eyes. I asked her what had happened. She just stared at me blankly, like she wasn’t even there. Her eyes… I’ve never seen her look like that before. I pulled her to me, hugged her. I was terrified, confused. Then Lou started screaming…’
‘Lou is Eloise?’
‘Yes, sorry, it’s a childhood nickname.’
Robert nodded, ‘Why did she scream?’
‘I… I think the blood. I think she finally saw it. I asked her again what happened and she looked at me in horror, started putting her hands all over me. Asking me what was wrong… She thought I was hurt… I, I didn’t know what was going on. You have to understand,’ June leaned forward, eyes pleading. ‘I thought something had happened to Eloise. I never thought…’
‘What happened next?’ Anita cut in, voice calm.
June continued, ‘I took her to the bathroom. She was hysterical. Screaming, crying. Jacob was too. He wanted to be held, he was scared. I had to calm her down, so I took her for a shower. To wash her off, to see if there were wounds I hadn’t found. I never thought… Then the police woman arrived.’
‘For the tape, PC Berry is the police officer in question. She entered the premises at, ‘Anita consulted her notes, ‘6:37 p.m. She called for back up after seeing blood on the front door.’
June nodded, ‘Yes, she came in. Told us to freeze or stop or something. And the scissors… they fell on the floor. And Lou reached for them. I tried to stop her. Then the police woman hit her over the head and Lou collapsed.’
‘PC Berry believed Eloise was going for the weapon. It was self-defence,’ Anita said, tone hard.
June held up her hands in placation, ‘Yes, yes, absolutely. I didn’t mean…’
‘Were these the scissors?’ Robert cut in, sliding an image of a pair of long bladed crafting scissors across the table. The murder weapon.
June glanced at the blood-covered blades and looked away. ‘Yes,’ she said, voice small.
‘And do you know who these scissors belong to?’
A pause, ‘Yes,’ another pause. The detectives waited. ‘They are Eloise’s crafting scissors.’
Robert felt a little flutter of excitement. It was all falling into place exactly as he had suspected. He worked to keep his face neutral, to not give away his eagerness to wrap up her evidence in a neat package for the DPP.
‘So how did they come to be on the floor of the bathroom?’
‘I don’t know. They must have been in Eloise’s pocket… then fell out when we were surprised by the police woman.’
‘But you didn’t notice them when you checked her sister for wounds in the nursery?’ Anita asked. Robert shot her a look, eyebrows raised. Good point, he thought to himself.
‘I…’ June paused, eyes scanning. ‘I, no I didn’t. I guess I was just checking her chest… where the blood was.’
It was time. Robert leaned forward, ‘Ms Lane, June, can you think of a reason why your sister would murder her husband?’
June let out a small startled cry. ‘Oh, I don’t think…’
‘Look at the facts. We have a dead body, covered in stab wounds. And his wife was found covered in blood, in possession of a pair of bloody scissors. Now, we haven’t got the forensics back yet, but I am willing to bet that the blood on you, on your sister and on these scissors is that of Grant Huxley. By your testimony, you were on the bus from Salcombe at the time of Mr Huxley’s murder. Which only leaves one other possibility.’
‘Eloise? Killing Grant? But why? No, I can’t imagine… she is so gentle. A mother. She loves Jacob. No, no… This just doesn’t make sense!’
‘From where we are sitting we can’t think of any other explanation. But the why is an interesting question. Can you tell me why Mr Huxley was staying at the Beesand’s Hotel and not with you and E
loise in Torcross?’
June stared at him, eyes wide. Slowly realisation dawned across her face, making her face look tired and drawn. She knew, he knew, ‘They were estranged. Grant left Eloise after Jacob was born.’
‘Go on.’
A battle took place across June’s features, finally she slumped, defeated. ‘Eloise hasn’t been herself, ‘she began. ‘After Jacob was born she suffered from severe post-natal depression. When Grant left we brought her to Torcross for the calm, to help her recovery. I moved in to help out.’
‘And Mr Huxley?’
‘About two months ago he started visiting. We thought he wanted to reconcile, but…’
‘But?’
June sighed heavily, ‘A letter came this week, from the Family Court. He was applying for sole custody of Jacob.’
Boom!
Robert and Anita glanced at each other. And so it all clicked into place. Weapon. Opportunity. Motive. The final piece of the puzzle.
‘But, Lou didn’t know that!’ June said urgently. ‘I kept the letter from her. She’d been doing so well lately and I knew this would set her back. So I hid it. She didn’t know.’
‘And you don’t think she may have found the letter? Applying for custody while working on a reconciliation could very easily seem like a betrayal…’
‘Please,’ June said, ‘I don’t know. But Eloise, she isn’t a murderer. She is soft and sweet and forgetful… this, this just isn’t her.’ She looked up at Robert, eyes pleading. He felt his heart give at the mix of pain and hope he saw there.
‘Thank you for your time, Ms Lane,’ Robert said, ‘I think we’ll leave it there for now.’
Robert sat at his desk in Exeter, paperwork in piles around him. He really did have some serious organising to do, but not yet. First he had to deal with Eloise Lane-Huxley. He glanced at the clock. Fuck it had been a long night.
‘How’s it going boss?’ Anita said, leaning against his desk and placing a fresh cup of coffee before him.
Robert rubbed his face, trying to work some life back into his skin and smiled gratefully up at Anita. Her dark eyes looked worn, tendrils of her hair escaping her neat ponytail. Still, she looked like she could keep working for another shift… he knew he looked far the worse.
‘Still not talking?’ he asked.
‘Oh she’s talking,’ Anita rolled her large eyes. ‘Talking isn’t the problem. It’s saying anything that makes sense. Lawyers making noises about her mental state. Saying we should pause the interviews. That she is not fit to answer questions.’
‘So stop. We can’t risk it. Any evidence she gives could be clouded by her state of mind. A good defence would get it thrown out of court.’
‘Already done. She’s in holding, having a cup of tea and a break.’
Robert shook his head ruefully. Eloise Lane-Huxley was a difficult culprit. So blonde and lithe and elegant. Pretty. Covered in blood. No memory of the night before or how she came to be in possession of a possible murder weapon. He usually did well interviewing the female suspects, they liked his face he suspected, came to trust him. And he knew how to use that connection to his advantage. The sister, June, had fallen straight into his charm offensive. But Eloise Lane-Huxley….
‘Do we believe her, or is she faking?’ he asked Anita.
‘Hard to tell… but she does seem genuinely confused.’
Robert nodded, musing. Young mothers were hard to picture as murderers. It would be a tough sell to the jury. Their case would have to be solid.
‘Ok,’ he said, ‘we still have six hours of holding before we have to let her go. Or charge her. So, have we got enough?’
Anita frowned, contemplating. She held up a finger, counting off. ‘We have a potential murder weapon, the scissors that belonged to Eloise. We have a witness who saw her at Beesands at around 5:30 p.m., we have her neighbour seeing her return home around 6:20 p.m., in the rain.’
‘So she was in Beesands at the time of Mr Huxley’s murder. She was found covered in blood. Her sister says she and Mr Huxley were estranged, that he wanted the boy.’
‘And she went mental when we showed her the custody letter.’
Robert nodded, eyebrows high. ‘Yep, that was definitely unexpected.’
All interview Eloise had been calm, serene, like she didn’t realise where she was or what she was being asked. She didn’t even seem to understand that Mr Huxley was dead. But then they showed her a photocopy of the custody letter. She had read it silently, breathing becoming shallower and shallower, and then… she exploded. Face red with rage, eyes wide with anger. She had shouted incoherently. Arms flailing wildly. They had suspended the interview, let her calm down. Hours later when they resumed she was calm and detached again. They had shown her the letter a second time but she had just stared off into space, eyes glazed. No reaction. Like she was numb.
‘What’s your gut say?’ Robert asked Anita.
‘She and her sister were covered in blood. But June has an alibi,’ she paused, ‘Eloise did it, sir.’
Robert nodded, it was what his gut said too. June Lane had been a distraught but credible witness. He believed her.
‘DS Fields?’ a young officer walked into the office, ‘this just came for you. From forensics.’ He handed Robert an email print out.
‘The blood results?’ Robert asked hopefully, reaching for the page. His eyes scanned the results, his focus narrowed, his senses stilled.
‘DI Shan, please get the DPP on the phone. We’re going to charge Eloise Lane-Huxley with the murder of Grant Huxley, her husband.’
3: Swinging batons and coffee
The coffee cup tumbled. The dark brown liquid spilling over the side. PC Tracy Berry quickly licked the dribble from the side, scorching her tongue on the hot ceramic, but stopping the drip from falling onto her work shirt. She took a small slurp and returned the cup to its saucer. Placing her hands firmly on the table to steady the tremor she looked up sheepishly at DS Robert Fields.
His dark eyes watched her, shining with sympathy and his comforting smile was understanding. There was no trace of judgement or ridicule. He had a kind face, tired, lined by stress and time but still attractive. He had aged well.
‘Sorry,’ Tracy breathed, ‘I’m just shaken up.’
Robert shook his head slowly, ‘Nothing to apologise for. It’s a natural reaction. I’ve been in this job 25 years and I nearly bottled it at the murder scene. It’s an intense case.’
Tracy shrugged dismissively, ‘I should be better at this by now. I’ve been back almost a year.’
‘Takes time to get into the swing of it. This job is tough. We’ve all been there, don’t beat yourself up about something we all experience.’
Tracy smiled thankfully. Joining the force had been a natural progression for Tracy; the daughter of a Sergeant, she became a bobbie, married an Inspector, took mat-leave and popped out three kids, then 15 years later divorced the (now) Chief Inspector and returned to the beat.
But Tracy didn’t mind, the job had always called to her. Still, starting again at 55 did present a unique set of challenges. And seeing that baby…
The image of the small boy, plump from youth, tiny hands reaching, jumpsuit stained red with blood momentarily filled her vision. She shivered despite the warmth of the cafe.
‘Thank you for this,’ she said to Robert.
Robert nodded. Tracy had just been into his station to give her statement about the events of November 15th. She’d been first to the house on Hiddley, the one who found the Lane sisters. In the stress of the moment she’d believed herself to be under threat and had struck Eloise Lane-Huxley, with her baton. Fortunately, the suspect was fine, and just needed a few stitches. But they had to do due diligence. And Tracy was a witness. What she found when she arrived on the scene formed an important part of he and Anita’s case against Eloise Lane-Huxley. Still suffering from memory loss (no link to Tracy’s baton, thankfully confirmed), Robert and Anita had had to piece together the events themse
lves. No different to most cases really. Few murderers confessed the truth.
When Tracy had finished her story Robert had felt satisfied. Her testimony fit with June Lane’s nicely, strengthening their case significantly. Eloise Lane-Huxley was the culprit.
Anita had thanked Tracy, telling her she could go. But Robert had seen it, that haunted look. Casually, as he walked her from the station, he suggested they grab a cuppa. Tracy had agreed, her face a picture of gratitude. Sometimes you needed to talk. Not just give evidence.
‘You’ve nothing to worry about with the review,’ he said. ‘It is a clear case of self-defence. There was a weapon and Ms Lane-Huxley ignored your order to stay back. Open and shut.’
Tracy released a heavy sigh. ‘That’s good to know. When she reached for those scissors…’
Robert took a chance, reached forward and folded his hand about her own, squeezing lightly.
Tracy smiled, then frowned, eyes studying the wood grain of the table top. Robert waited, giving her the space to find what she wanted to say.
‘It’s the baby I can’t get out of my head. The little boy. When I first saw him there I thought…’ her throat constricted, choking off her words. ‘He was just so small. I forget my boys were that tiny once…’ she gave a short laugh. ‘To think what might have happened if the sister hadn’t got there when she did. What she was going to do to him. That innocent little boy.’
‘There’s no evidence that Eloise was going to hurt the boy, Tracy. Her sister testified that she was singing to him.’
Tracy glanced up at Robert, eyes hooded. ‘Look what she did to her husband,’ she paused. ‘No sister wants to believe their sibling capable of murder, yet she did it. That boy was probably next. She still had the scissors on her.’
The Unsound Sister Page 2