Death Rider (The Rider Series Book 2)

by Samantha Bassett

  Silence fell across the yard once more. I saw Jan staring at me.

  * * *

  “No, she’s a great mare… We’ll need to finalise the trial but I think she’ll make a great police horse. If you have any more like her, please give me a call! Thanks again. Bye.”

  I put my phone down, smiling to myself. To think, just over a year ago I was being pursued by gangsters, now here I was, Amanda Bishop, running the stables for the newly formed Wiltshire Constabulary Mounted Division.

  I looked out of my office window, to be honest, I was still reeling from having an office overlooking a courtyard of new stables filled with horses I’d purchased who were now being trained to become police horses. I had been astonished by the training process, the horses needed to be calm in any conditions with flags waving, people yelling and even gunfire and all played out in the indoor school. There were times when it became a bit tense. However, with the help of colleagues from the Met, we had a pretty solid stable of horses and some amazing up and coming officers.

  My life had been perfect, my boyfriend Dan. No, what was I saying, as of just a few days ago, with my ‘fiancé’ Dan beside me? He had just been promoted again, he’d been instrumental in breaking drug gangs across the UK and had been recognized as being one of the leading detectives against the otherwise unending war on illegal drugs. We lived just a few miles away with my adopted family beside me. It was what I’d wanted and dreamed of all my life, a family, love and stability. I was truly happy.

  It was therefore inevitable that, as my desk phone rang, all that was about to change.

  “Hello, Amanda Bishop speaking.”

  “Amanda!”

  “Kate? What’s up, you sound upset. Kate, are you crying?”

  “Adam’s been arrested.” My blood ran cold. “What? What’s happened?”

  “Two policemen turned up at the yard asking for Adam. Mandy, they’ve taken him!”

  “On what charge?”

  “Murder.”

  * * *

  I recognised the road; we were heading back towards Harrogate. I’d been handcuffed in the back of the car for almost two hours, the police officers had not said a word to me. I wasn’t sure where we were going. I had tried to ask; it was only when we were on the motorway, I truly realised they were arresting me for Olivia’s murder. They can’t think I could have done this, surely? It had to be a joke, something my sister had set up to wind me up? Well, I’m not laughing sis…

  We entered the town and were soon at a police station. The officers stopped the car at the rear of the station, pulling open the car door and pulling me out. Despite the fact that I offered no resistance they forcibly dragged me towards the building and through the back door. When we finally came to a halt I was standing before a desk, I looked around in a panic before a police sergeant addressed me.

  “Right, Mr Bishop. You have been charged with murder. Do you understand the charge?”

  “No… Please this has to be a mistake?”

  “Well, if it is a mistake, I am sure it will be resolved soon, however, for now, you need to stay with us. I’ll explain your rights to you and then we will hold you in a cell until you are ready to be interviewed.”

  Time became a blur. I was allowed a phone call, but with my mobile confiscated I couldn’t remember Kate’s number. I was locked in a police cell and waited, for what seemed like hours staring at the walls.

  * * *

  “Dan… Shit! Bloody voicemail. Dan, I need you! Please call me when you can.” I threw the phone down before putting my head in my hands.

  “Amanda, are you okay?”

  “Inspector Simmonds, Oh goodness, I’m sorry.”

  “Amanda, please, I’ve told you before. Please, call me Adele. Now, what’s up? You look upset.”

  “Oh Inspector, sorry, Adele, I’ve just had a call from my sister-in-law. My brother’s been arrested.”

  “Oh goodness, on what charge?”

  “Murder.”

  “What? Oh, Amanda!

  “I don’t know what to do. Adam wouldn’t do anything like this and Kate, that’s his wife was so upset. What can I do?”

  “Okay Amanda, calm down.” She sat down opposite me. “Would you like me to find out what’s happening for you? Sure, okay. Now, dry your eyes. What is his full name?” She pulled out her notebook.

  I told Adele what I knew and she promised to find out what she could. She told me to take a break and held my hand telling me to be strong which had made me bawl more than ever. I didn’t want to go to the break room or canteen so I walked to the fodder shed and sat down on a bale. Taking out my phone I called Kate.

  “Kate… No, I know I can’t stop crying either. My Inspector is going to try and find something more out for me, I’ll tell you as soon as I know. Sure… I don’t know what to say…”

  * * *

  The cell door opened and I was asked to follow the officer. We walked down long corridors until I was led into a tiny room with a table, chairs and the sort of tape recorder I’d only seen on TV cop shows before.

  I sat down; the policeman who had escorted me waited in the corner of the room before the door opened. A man and woman stepped in. She reached over, pressed a button on the machine before speaking.

  “Interview with Adam Bishop, commencing at fifteen twenty-four, attending are DCI Jarvis and DCI Vance. Now, Mr Bishop, you are under arrest for the murder of Olivia Wright-Turner. Her body was discovered this morning at the stables you worked at. So, tell me, what have you got to say about that?”

  “What?” I looked at both the officers. What were they telling me? I stared at the two of them, wide-eyed in fear.

  “I said, Miss Wright-Turner was found this morning, she had been viciously attacked and her body dumped in the muck heap. Now, I want to ask you some questions, starting with where you were last night?”

  “Last night? I had a discussion with Hilary and Sally before going back to my caravan, I stayed there overnight and then left the stables this morning to go home.”

  “So, you were in your caravan. I am guessing you were alone during that time?”

  “Yes, it was only me.”

  “And you left very early in the morning. Why was that?”

  “I work four days a week for Hilary, I was due to go home. I was going to go home on Thursday night but I was exhausted and we had been drinking wine. I couldn’t drive. It had been a rough day so I decided to leave early in the morning instead.”

  “So, you had a rough day you say?” The female officer held my gaze. “Why was that?”

  “I’d worked hard, there had been a lot to do and I’d been riding for several hours.”

  “Is that all?”

  “What do you mean?” She was clearly waiting for me to say something. I looked up at her.

  “Did you have an argument or some disagreement with Miss Wright-Turner during the day?”

  I put my head in my hands. “Shit! I hit her…” The officers leaned forward, waiting for me to speak. I filled the silence. “She rode her horse badly; she ran it into the arena wall. Look, it wasn’t the horses’ mistake but she beat it with her crop. I just saw red and hit her. It was a stupid thing to do, but she made me so mad.”

  “You, ‘saw red and hit her’, describe to me what actually happened.”

  “I rode up to her, I grabbed her riding crop, she had just hit Bob with it. Bob was the horse. I hit her with it across her chest. I wanted her to see how it felt, how she was treating that poor horse. She was hitting Bob around his head, I wanted her to stop… Oh I know it was stupid, I attacked her, it was a spur of the moment thing but she was cruel to the horse.” I looked up, watching their eyes. I suddenly realised what was happening. “Oh, God! You think I did something worse to her…”

  “You tell me?”

  “I wouldn’t hurt her. Well, yes, I did… But I wouldn’t do that to her, I couldn’t!” I gulped. “She came to me after what I had done, she apologised for what she had done to the hor
se and I apologised for hitting her.”

  “Do you have any witnesses to that conversation?”

  “No…” I shook my head.

  “Okay, so let me understand, you attacked the deceased during the day…”

  “Oh, please don’t call Olivia that.” I gasped.

  “But that is what she is. Deceased. Murdered, killed. Is there a word you would prefer me to use? Anyway, Mr Bishop, as I was saying, you were seen attacking the deceased yesterday morning, you then stayed, alone in your caravan overnight before leaving the stables before anyone was awake. You do realise this is not looking good for you Mr Bishop.”

  “I wouldn’t do this to her, to anyone…”

  “One more question. Do you recognise this?” She pulled out a small plastic envelope and placed it on the table before me. I reached up to my neck without thinking, finding my gold necklace missing, it had been a wedding gift from Kate and had a tiny gold horse on the chain. I shuddered as I saw the chain and horse in the bag on the table. “Yes or no Mr Bishop?”

  * * *

  “Kate… Hi babe… I’ve found out something, well my Inspector has. Look, are you sitting down? This isn’t sounding good. He’s being held in the cells at Harrogate police station. She was able to speak with the custody sergeant, it sounds like they have a strong case against him… I know, listen. It seems he attacked the girl during the day and then slipped away really early. It just looks suspicious. Well, it does to them… Look, I’m going to take some leave. No, no… It’s okay. I’m going to come up, you need someone with you. Sure… Love you too…”

  I sighed. “What the hell have you done Adam?” I spoke to the empty room.

  “How are you doing?” Adele stepped into the office.

  “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m letting you down…”

  “Shush… Amanda, you deserve a break. You haven’t had a day off in months and family comes first. Look, I can’t give you much advice but be ready.”

  “Ready?”

  “If what I was told is true, it sounds like they have a watertight case against him, or at least that is what they think. You had better be ready for your brother to be going away for a long time. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to be realistic. Now, wipe your eyes. Be strong and go and help his wife.”

  “Thank you…”

  III

  Accused

  “How to cope with loss. - Putting your beloved horse to sleep is the toughest decision horse owners have to make. Coping with the loss of your companion can lead to stress and depression. We look into how you can move on from the loss.”

  Horse & Rider

  14

  Realisation

  “Mrs Bishop?”

  I looked up, the office door had opened quietly, I stood up and stepped inside. His office was small, lined with bookshelves which were packed with books most stacked in a somewhat haphazard way, his desk was piled with papers. I looked at him, he was in his sixties, somewhat overweight with grey hair and a rash of dandruff on the shoulders of his pinstripe suit. He gestured to a chair on the opposite side of his desk and so I sat down.

  “Thank you for coming in, as I said on the telephone, I’m not sure how much help I can be to you. As you well know, I am a country solicitor, the most complex cases I deal with are property matters, farm purchases, maybe an unfortunate divorce, but murder? Really not my game, I’m sorry to say.”

  “I just don’t know where to start, what to do? I’ve not even been able to speak to Adam and no one in the police will tell me anything other than he is in custody. I’m at my wit’s end…”

  “Quite… Oh my goodness, this is a difficult situation for you to be in. Now, your husband… Adam? Yes, he would be under investigation by the police and will be charged and detained awaiting the first trial at a magistrate’s court if the crown prosecution service feels there is a strong enough case against him. Now, if what you tell me is true, it sounds as if the police feel they do have a strong case so we must presume he will be charged. If that is the case, it is highly likely, in the circumstances he will not be allowed bail. Murder is, well, quite obviously a very serious matter. That means he will be held until that court date. Now, there is a code of practice and your husband should have been offered free legal advice, but I can give you the name of a colleague in York who would be able to help him and you. I’m sorry I can’t bring you any better news.”

  * * *

  “Mr Bishop?”

  I looked up. The cell door had opened and a man in a suit was standing beside one of the police officers.

  “I’m the duty solicitor. I’m here to give you legal advice. Would you like to step this way please?”

  I’d been left in the cells for what had seemed like hours. I’d been offered legal advice earlier but didn’t think I would need it, this was stupid, there was no way in which anyone could think I would hurt anyone and certainly no way in which I could be accused of murder, but here I was. After the hours of interviews, it was clear to me that the police felt that I had murdered Olivia so I had asked to see a solicitor.

  The hours in the tiny room, with the officers asking again and again, what had I done, why had I done this? Where had I been? What had I thought of Olivia? The case, in their eyes, was clear. Olivia had been killed sometime during the night, a time when I was alone in the caravan with no witnesses. I’d left early in the morning and, naturally, they found this suspicious, but I’d been tired and couldn’t face a two-hour drive after the day I’d just been through, that and a couple of glasses of wine…

  Oh God, that day… They had shown me the CCTV footage from the arena, me riding up to Olivia, grabbing her riding crop and striking her hard. Her shock was obvious. Even in the silent images, you could see her reaction. They didn’t rewind further to show what she had done; it was all seemingly unprovoked.

  And then there were their two trump cards. The first was the images of me, in the middle of the night walking across the yard to the tool shed. I’d watched the timestamped CCTV footage in shock and surprise, there I was, wearing my Glebe Farm hoodie walking across the yard in the near darkness. Kate had surprised me with the jumper just last week, she had made them up for our stables. They had looked great with our horse head logo on the front and Glebe Farm Equestrian Centre printed across the back in large letters, below it was my name. I’d been in bed unless I’d been sleepwalking, could I be a ‘sleep murderer’? And my necklace. Oh, the moment they had shown me I’d absent-mindedly reached for my neck to see if it had been there. The policewoman had looked so smug when she told me ‘the deceased’ had been holding the necklace in her hand at the time of death and she had no doubt Olivia had torn it from her assailant as she was being attacked.

  “What could I do? I know I didn’t do it…”

  The duty solicitor looked up from his notepad. “Well, Mr Bishop, if you want my honest opinion unless you have some clear corroborating evidence to show you weren’t at the scene of the crime at the time, you are in deep trouble. I’m sorry, I just can’t sugar coat this for you. The officers are at this very moment calling the Crown prosecution service with their evidence, and it is pretty damning, you had already been seen causing the victim grievous bodily harm. What will happen next is that you will be up before York magistrates court for a first hearing then you will be held on remand before a Crown court case. Mr Bishop, you should expect a life sentence, with a minimum of between fifteen and thirty years in prison.”