by Michael Wood
‘Ross, come on in.’
DS Ross Jonson from Barnsley stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. ‘You looked deep in thought; not interrupting anything, am I?’
‘Nothing that won’t keep. Have a seat. How are you?’
He shrugged.
‘It’s not often we see you in Sheffield. Something wrong?’ She perched on the edge of her desk.
‘I heard you were in Barnsley yesterday, asking questions about Keith Lumb.’
‘That’s right.’
‘I thought I’d better come and have a chat to you about him. I know him. Well, sort of,’ he said, looking down at his hands and playing with his fingers.
‘In what way sort of?’
‘If you look at his record, which I’m sure you have, you’ll see petty crimes, a bit of burgling, nothing serious. If you knew him, you’d see a different story.’
‘And you know him?’
‘I knew his former girlfriend, Tina Law. She was a sweet thing. She was training to be a beautician. She knew Keith was trouble, but, well, she was young, she was in love, and Keith had his own flat. She was smitten.’
Matilda read the uncomfortable expression on Ross’s face. This was a story that didn’t have a happy ending.
‘What happened?’
‘Keith got jealous of anyone he saw Tina talking to. It was as if she couldn’t have a good time when he wasn’t around or she shouldn’t be talking to other men, period. He got quite volatile towards her.’
‘Was he violent?’
‘You could say that. I was sent to interview her from her hospital bed. One of the nurses had called us when she was admitted to A&E. He’d beaten her black and blue.’
‘Why isn’t any of this on his charge sheet?’
‘Because Tina refused to press charges. She kept saying she was accident prone, kept falling downstairs, or being silly while on a drunken night out.’
‘And you didn’t believe this?’
‘It was obvious she was covering for him. She was frightened. I put her in touch with some refuge groups. I don’t know if she ever contacted them.’
Matilda took a deep breath. She was almost afraid to ask the next question. ‘Where’s Tina now?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ he said, looking up. ‘The last time I met her was about eight months ago. She was in hospital again, broken arm, fractured jaw, bruised ribs, two black eyes. She said she’d been mugged outside a nightclub in town. When I asked her what had been taken, she’d said her mobile and purse. However, I requested the CCTV footage from the front of the hospital, and it showed her paying for a taxi and taking money from her purse.’
‘Keith Lumb again?’
‘Who else?’
‘Did you ever interview Keith?’
‘I had a quiet word with him. I made it out like I was worried about her having so many accidents.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said she had a problem with alcohol. She drank too much and fell over. It was bullshit, but what else could I do?’
‘Your hands were tied. I don’t suppose you know where Tina is now?’
‘No. I did a trace on her last known address yesterday when I found out you were asking about Keith Lumb. She hasn’t lived there for months and nobody knows where she’s gone. If she’s run away, then good luck to her, I say.’
‘And if she hasn’t run away?’
Ross shrugged. ‘I dread to think.’
‘The killing of the Mercer family,’ Matilda said, ‘is Keith capable of something like that?’
Ross hesitated as he thought. ‘Yes,’ he eventually said. ‘I’ve seen him when he’s angry. He just flips.’
Matilda was still reeling from Ross’s statement when she received a phone call from the desk sergeant. A solicitor had come into the station asking to see the detective in charge of the Mercer murders.
Max Warburton was a short and skinny man with tangled mousey hair and dull blue eyes. He wore a cheap navy suit and scuffed black shoes. He sat in the waiting room holding his briefcase firmly against his chest as if it contained the code for nuclear weapons.
Matilda showed him into an interview room. He refused a cup of coffee but asked for a glass of water. While she went to fetch him one, he set about opening his briefcase and laying his papers down on the desk.
He drank the glass of water in one drink. His nervousness was evident.
‘Sorry, I’m not usually this on edge. I’ve been fighting with my conscience since yesterday morning.’
A solicitor with a conscience? A new breed.
Matilda didn’t say anything. She allowed him to ramble on, hoping he’d say something worthwhile eventually.
‘My firm represents the Mercer family. Clive Mercer in particular. Last summer, he came into the office to make out a new will. I didn’t deal with him, one of our senior partners did. However, when he retired, I took it over and the message on the front of the envelope states that it shouldn’t be opened until the event of Clive Mercer’s death,’ he said, showing her the brown envelope.
‘I see.’
‘Inside, was the last will and testament of Clive and Serena Mercer made last summer.’
‘It was a joint will?’
‘Sort of.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If Clive dies before his wife then everything goes to her to support her for the rest of her natural life. However, when she dies, this will comes into effect again and whatever is left of the estate is inherited by the people Clive has stipulated in this will.’
‘And as Clive and Serena died at the same time, I’m guessing everything goes to whoever would inherit after Serena’s death?’ Matilda asked.
‘That’s correct. It seems as though Clive Mercer thought of every eventuality when it came to his death.’
Matilda remembered the brain tumour he had recently been diagnosed with. He obviously wanted everything sorted before he died.
‘So, why have you come to see me? It all seems pretty straight forward.’
‘It is. It’s just … well, who inherits and the reason behind it is slightly odd.’
‘Go on.’
Max selected the correct file and cleared his throat. The paper shook slightly in his hands. ‘In the event of Serena’s death, whatever it left of the estate and after the sale of the house and contents not inherited to family and friends is divided up. There are small legacies to a few trusts and charities Clive supports, but everything else goes to Leah Mercer.’
‘Leah? What about Jeremy?’
Max swallowed hard. He looked down at the paperwork again. ‘It says here that Jeremy Mercer will not inherit anything as he is not Clive’s legitimate son and heir.’
‘We had been informed of such a rumour. But surely Serena wouldn’t have signed off on that. She was his son and she paid just as much money into the house as he did. They both had very well-paid jobs.’
Max turned the will around to show Matilda both signatures.
‘Did he leave anything to Rachel, Jeremy’s daughter?’
‘No. The will states that in his eyes, Rachel isn’t his legitimate granddaughter and does not qualify to inherit any of his estate.’
Matilda bit her bottom lip. She wanted to call Clive Mercer every name under the sun but didn’t think it would look good in front of his solicitor.
‘Have I done the right thing in coming to you?’ Max asked to break the silence.
‘Absolutely.’ Matilda grinned.
Back in the HMET suite, Matilda stood in front of the murder board and glared into the cold stare of Clive Mercer.
‘What a bastard,’ Christian said from behind.
‘That was my first thought, too.’
‘Do you think Leah and Jeremy knew about this?’
‘I’ve no idea. That’s something else we’ll need to ask her.’
‘I can’t see Serena agreeing to this,’ Christian said, pointing at her photograph. ‘She wouldn’t allow her so
n to be cut out of her will.’
‘It’s her signature.’
‘Do you think he forced her into signing?’
‘I wouldn’t put it past him.’
‘I hate men like that.’
‘You and me both.’ Matilda was about to turn away from the board when she stopped.
‘What is it?’ Christian asked.
‘I wonder if Leah knew Keith Lumb,’ she said. ‘They’re both about the same age.’
‘What are you hinting at?’
‘Let’s say Leah knew the content of her father’s will. She knew she was going to inherit everything, but she also knows how controlling and domineering her father is towards her mother. Is it possible she could have arranged for Keith to kill them while she has the perfect alibi of being out of the country on her honeymoon?’
‘But why have the mother killed? Why have Jeremy killed? And why leave Rachel alive?’
‘Both parents need to die for Leah to inherit. Jeremy, we’ve already established disturbed the killer. Leah then gets the money and guardianship of Rachel. Instant family.’
‘What about Oliver?’
Matilda looked over to the picture of a smiling Oliver. She wondered if Leah had found out about Oliver’s secret and simply wanted him out of the way. She could blackmail him into not claiming half of the estate in any divorce, maybe even pay him off. If that was the case, all the tears and the drama was an act and made her one clever, cold, heartless and dangerous woman.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It took Leah Ridgeway a long time to answer the door. By the time she did, Sian was shivering on the doorstep.
‘I’m sorry. I thought there was someone else in,’ she said in a dopey voice reserved for the permanently tired. ‘Come in.’
Sian entered the house belonging to Leah’s in-laws and looked around at the brightly lit, tastefully decorated hallway.
‘You’re on your own?’ Sian asked.
Leah nodded. She was wearing a floor-length dressing down, open to reveal heavily creased pyjamas. Her hair was sticking up in all directions. She turned and headed for the kitchen, dragging her heavy legs.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve had a bad night. I don’t think I’ve had more than an hour’s sleep. Can I get you a coffee or something?’ she asked. She went over to the counter where the kettle was and leaned against it. She was like the walking dead.
‘Would you like me to make it?’
‘Would you? I’m sorry. I don’t think I have the energy.’
She pulled out a chair at the breakfast table and slumped into it.
‘Where’s Oliver?’ Sian asked as she set about making the coffee. Matilda had already called her and told her Oliver had returned to work.
‘He’s at the hospital. He said there was no point both of us hanging around the house moping,’ Leah replied. There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.
‘How do you feel about that?’
She gave a slight chuckle. ‘I don’t know how I feel about anything. I’m just so numb.’
‘That’s understandable. You shouldn’t be on your own though.’
‘I may as well be. Oliver doesn’t handle emotions very well.’
‘What about your mother-in-law?’
‘Sophia? She sees crying as a sign of weakness. If it was up to her I would have had my entire family buried by now then continued with my honeymoon.’ Her bottom lip began to quiver.
‘Did she actually say that?’ Sian looked disgusted at the thought.
‘No. She may as well have done though. Oliver told me to go to bed early last night as my snivelling was disturbing his parents’ mealtime.’
Sian put the mug of coffee in front of Leah along with a matching milk jug and sugar bowl. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
‘I can’t keep anything down.’
‘You really need to keep your strength up. For Rachel.’
‘I know.’ She ran her fingers through her hair but they became stuck in the tangled mess. ‘I just can’t help feeling …’ she couldn’t finish as the tears came down in a torrent.
Sian allowed her to cry. She had the feeling Leah had been bottling everything up while her in-laws were around. She was obviously encroaching on their perfect life and they didn’t like anything that upset their well-oiled routine.
‘Have you been to see a doctor? They may be able to give you something.’
Leah sniggered. ‘I don’t need any more medication.’
‘More?’
‘Lithium, Lorazepam, and there’s something else I can never pronounce.’ She looked at Sian who frowned. ‘I’m bipolar. Actually, I’m not allowed to say that. My therapist said I have to say I have bipolar, not that I am bipolar as that makes it sounds like I am my illness when I’m not.’ She ran her fingers through her hair, but they became stuck in the tangles.
‘How long have you been like this?’
She blew out her cheeks as she thought. ‘Years. Years and years. I was depressed even as a child. As I grew up it became steadily worse. My moods can change at the drop of a hat. I don’t even feel as if I’m in control of my own mind sometimes.’
‘Your family was supportive?’
She nodded. As she spoke, tears began to fall. ‘Mum and Jeremy especially.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘He understood, but he was always busy. Shit, I forgot to ask, how’s the detective?’
‘DC Rani? She’s fine. No lasting damage.’
‘She’s pregnant, isn’t she?’
‘Yes. Don’t worry. The baby is fine.’
‘I don’t know what came over me. I just suddenly realized that Rachel was all I had left and I wanted to take her away from everything. Will you tell her I’m sorry?’
‘Of course. Leah, would you be up for answering a few questions about your family?’
She sniffled and sat up straight. ‘If I can.’
‘The neighbours all describe your parents as a happy, loving couple, but when we questioned them, we were under the impression they didn’t know them all that well.’
‘Mum and dad were private people. They got on with the neighbours, chatted in the street, that kind of thing, but they weren’t close.’
‘Did your mum and dad have any close friends?’
‘Oh yes,’ Leah’s eyes almost lit up. ‘Especially Mum. She was very popular.’
‘The thing is,’ Sian began, shuffling in her seat, ‘to be able to find out who killed them, we need to find out who your family were. Who would know your mum and dad best, apart from you, obviously,’ she said, giving her a warm, comforting smile.
Leah thought for a while. ‘Well, there’s Leslie and Ronnie. They were always going out shopping as a threesome.’
Sian took out her notebook and wrote down their names. ‘Were they at your wedding?’
‘Yes. Leslie Beck was there with her husband, Adrian. I think they went home early. Adrian suffers with anxiety. He didn’t like the crowd. I wasn’t a big fan either. Ronnie Lister and her husband, Derek, were still there when Oliver and I left. Ronnie loves a party. I’m guessing she was one of the last to leave,’ she said with a smile.
‘And what about your dad?’ Sian asked.
‘Dad’s friends were mostly work related. He wasn’t one for socializing. Well, not without Mum anyway.’ Leah looked deep in thought as if trying to conjure up someone, anyone, who she considered to be a friend of her father’s. ‘You could speak to Emmett Flanagan. He’s worked with Dad on and off for years. He was at the wedding. We didn’t think he’d come actually as his wife died recently. He stayed for a few hours, which was lovely.’ She smiled again at the memory the wedding invoked, but then, she remembered that only a few hours later her entire family had been slaughtered and there was suddenly nothing to smile about.
‘Thank you, Leah. That’s very helpful.’
‘I don’t understand any of this. I can’t think of a single person who would want to kill my family. It doesn’t ma
ke sense. If it was a robbery gone wrong, I could perhaps get my head around it, but you say nothing was taken.’
‘At this stage, Leah, it’s incredibly frustrating, but we will find out who did this and why. All you need to do is concentrate on yourself, and Rachel and Oliver. You need to surround yourself with people who will help.’
Leah shook her head. ‘The only people who could help me are dead.’
The front door opened and slammed closed. ‘Leah, it’s me,’ Oliver called out from the hallway.
‘Shit,’ Leah said under her breath. ‘I promised I’d be dressed and ready by now. He’ll kill me.’
‘Leah?’ Sian asked, looking worried.
‘Oh,’ Oliver said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen when he saw Sian. ‘Is everything all right.’
‘Just a few follow-up questions,’ Sian said. ‘I hear you went back to work.’
‘Yes. Not a crime, is it?’
‘Of course not. I’d have thought you’d be needed here with your wife.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘Mr Ridgeway, your wife is incredibly upset. She needs support.’
He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. ‘Leah, why don’t you go upstairs, have a soak in the bath and then I’ll take you out for lunch. Cheer you up a bit.’ He smiled but to Sian it didn’t look sincere. ‘Unless, of course, you have any more questions?’
‘No. I’m finished here,’ Sian said, closing her notebook and putting it in her pocket. ‘I’m sure we’ll need to speak to you both again at some point.’
‘Thank you,’ Leah said.
‘You’re welcome. Take care of yourself. I’ll show myself out.’
Sian lingered in the hallway, straining to hear what was being said between husband and wife in the kitchen, but she couldn’t make out a single word from Oliver’s hushed tones. She left the house and headed for her car. She had a feeling the Ridgeways were people who needed a close eye to be kept on.
ACC Masterson entered Matilda’s office and closed the door behind her. It was rare for her to come downstairs. Usually, she made a call and asked people to come to her.
‘What’s going on with Barnsley?’ she asked, her voice low.
‘Funny, I was going to ask you that,’ Matilda said.