The Murder House

by Michael Wood

  Take your own advice, Mat.

  ‘I’ll try,’ he said, putting the phone away in his back pocket.

  They eventually found Oliver sitting in the canteen. He was sitting in a corner, looking forlorn. His black coffee and tuna sandwich was untouched. He looked as if he was a million miles away. He probably wished he was.

  ‘Mr Ridgeway?’ Matilda asked, making him jump.

  ‘Sorry. I was thinking about … something.’

  ‘DCI Darke.’

  ‘Yes. I remember. Sorry. My mind’s all over the place.’

  ‘You remember DC Andrews?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, glancing at Scott but not recognizing him.

  ‘Do you mind if we have a seat?’

  ‘No. Do you want to ask more questions?’

  ‘Why have you returned to work so soon?’ Matilda asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

  ‘There’s nothing for me to do at home.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should be there for your wife?’

  ‘She keeps saying she wants to be alone. I was just getting in the way.’

  ‘Mr Ridgeway, is there anything you’d like to tell us?’

  ‘Tell you?’ He frowned. ‘About what?’

  ‘About you.’

  He looked from Matilda to Scott then back to Matilda. ‘Me? No. I don’t think so.’

  ‘Scott,’ Matilda turned to the DC.

  Scott took a deep breath and licked his lips. He took out his phone and logged on to the dating app. He turned the phone around and showed it to Oliver.

  ‘Shit,’ Oliver said. He looked up at Scott. ‘Now I recognize you. I thought you looked familiar when you came into the interview room. I didn’t think …’

  ‘Does Leah know?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘Of course she doesn’t.’

  ‘Who knows you’re on this app?’

  ‘Nobody.’

  ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Your picture is there for all to see. I’m guessing there are hundreds of men in Sheffield who have seen you online. I doubt it would take much to find out who you are, where you are.’

  ‘So what? What’s this got to do with Clive, Serena and Jeremy getting killed?’

  ‘I don’t know. Although, if Clive found out his daughter was being lied to, I doubt he’s the type of man to keep quiet.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, sitting back and smiling. ‘I see. You think I killed Clive because he found out about me?’

  ‘It gives you a motive.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. If Clive found out, do you think he would have allowed the wedding to go ahead?’

  ‘It depends when he found out. Maybe it was too late for him to stop the wedding.’

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous. Look, that app, it’s just sex. You should know that,’ he said looking at Scott. ‘It’s meaningless.’

  ‘I don’t think Leah would see it that way.’

  ‘Leah doesn’t have to know.’

  ‘Really? You don’t think your wife, your new wife of less than a week, doesn’t need to know what her husband is getting up to behind her back?’

  ‘That’s got nothing to do with you,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘You’re a detective. Your job is to find out who killed her family. This has nothing to do with it.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that, Mr Ridgeway,’ Matilda said. ‘We will be talking again.’

  ‘If you threaten me in any way, I’ll report you to your superior,’ Oliver said, standing up.

  ‘Really? I don’t think you’re in any position to be issuing threats at the moment, Mr Ridgeway.’ Matilda walked away.

  ‘I was going to message you later,’ he said to Scott. There was a look of malevolence in his eye. He hadn’t liked being caught out and needed to be back in control again. ‘We could have had some fun together. Oh well. Your loss, pretty boy.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The small room was set up to be as comfortable as possible. There was a dark carpet, walls painted a soft, warm colour. Two small sofas and a coffee table. There were tasteless generic prints on the wall, a plastic potted palm in the corner and a box of outdated toys for the younger children to play with. A video camera was set up, pointed towards one of the sofas.

  The door opened and Rachel Mercer was shown into the room by the large social worker who had collected her from the Children’s Hospital. Everything had been explained to her. So far, she was being incredibly brave.

  Rachel was wearing grey tracksuit bottoms and a pink sweater, which Sian had collected for her from the Mercer house. Her dark brown hair was neatly combed and hung lifelessly down her back. Her face was pale, and she looked on the verge of tears. She sat down on the edge of the sofa. She didn’t want to be here.

  She had already met DC Rory Fleming. He’d shaken her hand and had taken her to the vending machine where he asked her to choose anything she wanted to eat. An extra bar of chocolate had fallen from the machine. This broke the ice. Rory cheered at the free chocolate and said it would taste better because they hadn’t paid for it. On choosing a drink, Rachel said her dad didn’t allow her to have fizzy pop too often. Rory said, on this occasion, it would be fine.

  In the interview room, Rory laid everything out on the table as if they were having a picnic. Behind him was a large window that they couldn’t see out of, but Christian and the social worker, Bernice Simpson, could see in.

  Rory started the video camera.

  ‘Rachel, tell me about the wedding,’ he asked. His voice was light. He wanted to put Rachel at her ease.

  She smiled. ‘I was a bridesmaid,’ she beamed.

  ‘Really? Wow, that’s cool. What did you wear?’

  ‘It was an ivory dress with lace on the bodice,’ she said with pride.

  ‘I bet you looked lovely.’

  ‘I had my hair done all nice, too. And, Dad said I was allowed to have a bit of make-up on.’

  ‘I bet you looked all grown up. What did you have to do?’

  ‘Well, Auntie Leah had two other bridesmaids but they were older. We each had some flowers, and we walked behind Auntie Leah as she walked up the aisle.’

  ‘Were you nervous?’

  ‘A little bit. But Jane and Angela, they were the other two bridesmaids, they told me what to do.’

  ‘Did you enjoy it?’

  ‘Yes.’ She grinned.

  ‘Help yourself to a bar of chocolate.’

  She looked down at the selection and picked up a Mars bar and a can of cola. She sat back on the sofa. She seemed to be relaxing.

  ‘Was the wedding fun?’

  ‘It was, but I got bored after a bit. It seemed to go on for ages.’

  Rory smiled. ‘Church weddings do take a long time. What happened afterwards?’

  ‘Well, we stood outside and had our photo taken. The photographer took so many pictures, but he was funny. He made everyone laugh. He didn’t have a real leg. He showed it to me.’

  ‘What was that like?’

  ‘Weird, but kind of cool.’

  ‘Who did you have your picture taken with?’

  ‘Everyone. There were some with me and my dad on our own and some with just us bridesmaids. Auntie Leah said she wanted everyone to be in on the photos.’

  ‘Did you go back to the house then?’

  ‘Yes. We had a big tent up in the back garden.’

  ‘Wow. I bet that was cool.’

  ‘It was. Inside, there were tables around the edges and a massive cake in the corner. There was a dancefloor in the middle. Auntie Leah and Uncle Oliver had the first dance, then everyone joined in.’

  ‘Did you dance?’

  ‘Yes. I had my first dance with Daddy. I stood on his feet,’ she beamed. She took a small bite of the chocolate bar but didn’t seem to be enjoying it. Rory wondered if it was the thought of her father; their last moments together were so happy. It would have been the biggest day of her life, so far, and it soon turne
d into a nightmare.

  ‘Did you dance with anyone else?’

  ‘Yes. Grandad, and then Grandma, and Auntie Leah and Uncle Oliver. Then just Uncle Oliver.’

  ‘Do you like your Uncle Oliver?’

  ‘Yes. He’s not funny, like Daddy, but he’s nice.’

  ‘In what way is he nice?’

  ‘He lets me go out with him and Auntie Leah if they’re going anywhere. And, even though we live in Liverpool, they come over to see us a lot.’

  ‘That’s nice. What’s your Auntie Leah like?’

  ‘She plays with me. She’s always buying me clothes for my Barbie. She used to say we were like sisters. I’d like to have had a sister.’

  Rory felt sad listening to her talk. She was being incredibly brave, but was it a mask? How long would the nightmares last? What other problems would she have in later life which were born in this massive event? He thought of all the issues teenagers had to deal with; the temptation of sex, drugs, alcohol, the pressure others put on young women to be slim and beautiful. With everything Rachel had been through, those pressures would be magnified.

  ‘Did you stay at the party all night?’ Rory asked.

  ‘No. I went to bed early. I was tired.’

  ‘Did you mind?’

  ‘No. Dad took me up to bed. He gave me a plate with a few sandwiches and a slice of cake, and he made me a hot chocolate. I’m not allowed to eat in bed, but it was a special day.’

  ‘And you had Pongo to keep you company, too, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’ She grinned. ‘Where is Pongo?’

  ‘We’ve got him in our kennels downstairs. He’s fine.’

  ‘Can I see him?’

  ‘Soon. I’m guessing 101 Dalmatians is your favourite film?’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘I love it. I seen it millions of time. I prefer the cartoon version but the puppies in the real version are so cute. Have you seen it?’

  ‘Yes. They’re good films. So, did you eat your snack?’

  ‘No. I ate my cake but I gave my sandwiches to Pongo,’ she whispered, as if telling Rory a massive secret.

  He smiled. ‘Did you go straight to sleep afterwards?’

  ‘Not straight away. I played with Pongo for a little bit. Also, the party was really loud downstairs.’

  ‘So, you fell asleep, and you were woken up. Can you remember what it was you heard that woke you up?’

  Rachel giggled. ‘Daddy said a rude word.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yes. He was walking along the landing. I think he hit his foot or something because he said a word that sounds like duck that I’m not allowed to say.’

  Rory laughed. ‘Oh. Naughty daddy.’

  ‘I heard him go downstairs. I tried to go back to sleep but I could hear voices.’

  ‘Whose voices?’ Rory asked, leaning forward.

  ‘Daddy’s was one of them. I didn’t know the other.’ She frowned.

  ‘Did you hear what they were saying?’

  She thought for a while. ‘No. Well, I heard Daddy ask who the other man was, but I didn’t hear what he said.’

  ‘But it was definitely a man?’

  ‘I think so. Men talk quieter than women, don’t they?’

  Rory smiled. ‘Sometimes, yes. What happened then?’

  ‘Well, I heard someone coming upstairs. I thought it was Daddy, but then I heard Grandad coming down from the attic. He said that duck word too. I knew he couldn’t have been talking to Daddy. Then I …’ Rachel’s bottom lip started to wobble and her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘It’s all right, Rachel, take your time,’ Rory said. He picked up a box of tissues from the table and handed them to her.

  ‘Grandad screamed,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘It wasn’t a loud scream, but it was like a … I don’t know.’

  ‘Do you think you could make the sound?’

  She thought, then nodded. She made a choking sound.

  ‘OK. Could you hear anything else?’

  ‘Yes. There was grunting.’

  ‘Grunting?’

  ‘Yes. And then a loud bang. Then I heard Daddy shouting again, and I heard someone running up the stairs to the attic. Then Daddy shouted for me.’

  ‘He shouted for you? What did he say?’

  ‘He told me to close my door and put a chair under the handle.’

  ‘Did you?’

  She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. I was so scared. I just stayed in bed with Pongo. I told Daddy I had done, but I didn’t. I lied to him,’ she cried. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she gasped for breath.

  Rory remained where he was on the sofa. He handed her another tissue and took the can of cola from her and put it on the table. He waited until her tears had subsided.

  ‘You didn’t lie to him, Rachel, you were frightened. That’s OK. Your daddy would have understood that.’

  To Rory, it felt like the room was getting hotter. He could feel himself sweating. He didn’t know if it was their close proximity, the tension of the interview, or the heat from the radiator but he felt a dampness under his arms and his shirt was sticking to his back. He’d softened his image for Rachel; taken off his tie, undone a top button, and removed his jacket, but he still felt hot under the collar.

  ‘Rachel, what happened next?’

  ‘I was in bed. I was crying,’ she sniffled. ‘I was holding on to Pongo. The door was kicked open and Pongo started barking. He jumped off the bed and ran towards him and the man kicked Pongo.’ She couldn’t talk anymore as the tears fell in a torrent.

  ‘Rachel, Pongo is fine. He’s not hurt in anyway. We’ve had a vet look at him and he’s walking normally. He’s bounding about with his tail wagging.’

  ‘Really?’ she asked, a hint of a smile through the tears.

  ‘Yes. As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll take you to see him.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Rachel, can you tell me what the man looked like?’

  She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t see his face.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It was dark and he had like a beanie hat on but it was pulled down over his face.’

  ‘OK. Was he tall or short? Fat or thin?’

  She took a deep breath to compose herself. ‘He was tall.’

  ‘OK. Tall like me?’

  ‘Taller.’

  ‘Right. And was he fat or thin?’

  She frowned as she thought. ‘I don’t know. Sort of … medium.’

  Rory had an idea. ‘Do you watch The Simpsons?’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled.

  ‘It’s funny, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Daddy says I’m like Lisa because I’m always reading.’

  ‘That’s good. Reading is important. You should speak to my boss. She loves reading. Anyway, this man, he wasn’t fat like Homer?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was he big and muscly like Duffman?’

  ‘No. He was normal. Like Principal Skinner.’

  ‘OK. What was he wearing? Was he wearing a suit like Principal Skinner?’

  Rachel started crying. The tissue in her hands was soaked. Rory passed her the box. She took one out and placed it next to her on the sofa.

  ‘He was covered in blood. All over.’

  ‘Could you see what he was wearing?’

  ‘It was a onesie,’ she sniffled.

  ‘A onesie?’ He frowned.

  ‘Yes. Not a Dalmatian one like mine. His was plastic.’

  ‘He was wearing a plastic onesie?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Can you remember anything else about him? What kind of shoes was he wearing?’

  ‘I couldn’t see his shoes. He had like plastic bags on.’

  ‘Plastic bags over his shoes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What about his hands?’

  She cried again. ‘They were red.’

  ‘Did he say anything to you?’

  ‘No. I could hear Daddy shouting but I don’t know what he wa
s saying. I was so scared. I didn’t move. The man grabbed me and pulled me out of bed.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘He told me to sit in my chair. He pulled the belt off my dressing gown and tied me up with it.’

  ‘Did he tell you to sit in the chair?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So he spoke to you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did he sound like? Did he have an accent like mine?’

  ‘Sort of. His voice was deeper, but sort of whispering.’

  ‘Is there anything about him that you can remember? Did he have funny teeth or did his breath smell?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes widening. ‘His breath did smell.’

  ‘What of?’

  ‘It smelled like Daddy’s when he gave me a goodnight kiss. Can I see Pongo now? Please.’

  ‘Of course you can. You’ve been a very good girl, Rachel. You’ve been really helpful. Now, I’ll just go and check we can see Pongo. I’ll send Bernice in to look after you for a little bit. Help yourself to some toys.’

  He stood up and left the room. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he leaned against the wall and let out an exhausted breath. The door to the observation room next door opened and Christian and Bernice stepped out. Bernice gave him a sympathetic smile before going into the room to be with Rachel.

  ‘Rory, you did brilliantly,’ Christian said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘I’m shattered.’

  ‘It’s not easy interviewing kids, is it?’

  ‘Not at all. I’m soaked. Thank God I’ve got a spare shirt in my locker.’

  ‘You should be proud of that, though, Rory.’

  ‘Thanks. She wants to see her dog. Am I OK to take her?’

  ‘Of course you are.’

  ‘Did you hear what she said about what the killer was wearing?’

  ‘A onesie?’

  ‘A plastic onesie. And he had plastic bags on his shoes. You know what that means, don’t you? He was wearing a forensic suit and overshoes. The killer could be someone working within forensics, a scene of crime officer. We could all know who the killer is.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Matilda looked up to the sound of knocking on her office door. Her eyes widened.