Where Secrets Lie

by D. S. Butler

  ‘Possibly. I wouldn’t like to say for sure. It would have been some effort if he did. There are some marks on the side of the hatch, so it looks like the case was dragged out of the loft. We’ll have the full results soon, and you’ll get a copy of the report.’

  ‘Thanks, Darren. I appreciate the heads-up.’

  After ending the call, she mulled things over. It was possible that Albert had just found the suitcase in his loft . . . That would be enough to give anyone a heart attack, but the officers at the scene said he hadn’t wanted them to go upstairs. If he’d innocently stumbled across the body, he would have wanted the police to help.

  Besides, the idea that someone else had placed Oliver Fox’s body in Albert Johnson’s loft wasn’t feasible. Albert had owned the property for fifty years, which meant a previous owner couldn’t have hidden the body.

  She made a note on the right side of the pad and drew a box around her comment.

  The simplest explanation was often the right one, which meant Albert Johnson had killed Oliver Fox, put him in a suitcase and hidden the body. But why? There had to be a link between the two men.

  Karen opened up another screen on her computer and looked up news reports, searching for Oliver Fox and Skellingthorpe. One of the top hits from the search was from a local paper called the Skellingthorpe Advertiser. Old copies had been scanned and uploaded on to a website, but the printed version of the newspaper was now defunct. The old articles were freely available on the internet.

  Unfortunately, the article was very brief.

  She clicked to enlarge the scanned page. It said Oliver Fox, forty-five, of Lincoln Road, Skellingthorpe had now been missing for three days. His family, friends and colleagues at Greenhill Secondary School were asking for anyone with information to contact the local police.

  Well, there it was, Karen thought, leaning back in her chair, smiling. Oliver Fox had been a teacher at the same school as Albert Johnson.

  There was a relationship between the two men. They had a link. Now all Karen had to do was connect the dots.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When Sophie got back with the records, she entered the office, staggering under the weight of all the files. She was carrying two boxes, one perched on top of the other.

  As soon as Karen spotted her, she rushed over to take the top box from under Sophie’s chin. ‘You should have told me you were back. I would have come down to help you.’

  Sophie gave a half-hearted shrug in response and carried the other box to her desk.

  Karen noticed the shallow crease between the other woman’s eyebrows. Sophie looked thoroughly fed up as she flopped into her chair with a sigh.

  ‘How did your appointment go?’ Karen asked, pulling out one of the files from the box she’d taken from Sophie.

  ‘Not great,’ Sophie said. ‘But I don’t really want to talk about it.’

  ‘Fair enough. Thanks for picking up the files. I’ve just found an article online about an Oliver Fox who is a similar age to our victim. He went missing in Skellingthorpe in 1988. The newspaper article says he lived on Lincoln Road.’

  Sophie seemed to perk up at this news. ‘Do you think his family could still live in Skellingthorpe? They could be at the same address.’

  Karen nodded as she flicked through the missing persons report. ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out.’

  Sophie smiled, and Karen was pleased to see she looked a little bit more excited about the case.

  ‘Can I be the one who talks to the family? Find out what they know?’

  Karen picked out another file and agreed to Sophie’s request. She found the young officer’s eagerness endearing, but a little too much at times. ‘I don’t see a problem with that. We’ll have to wait until DI Morgan gets back from talking to the superintendent before we plan a visit to the family, though. Right now, we don’t have much information to give them, and they’re going to want some answers. We need to go in there with a plan, and we need to deal with this matter as sensitively as we can.’ Karen put the file back in the box and selected another. ‘Oliver Fox went missing decades ago, but to his family this is still going to be incredibly painful.’

  Sophie let out a little huff. ‘I know that.’ She turned away from Karen and began flipping through another of the files.

  Karen had no idea what had happened at Sophie’s appointment, but it definitely hadn’t gone well. She’d said she didn’t want to talk about it, though, so Karen carried a selection of files back to her own desk and started to make her way through them.

  When DI Morgan came back to the office, he announced that the superintendent was pleased with their progress so far, but still very keen to keep the case out of the press.

  ‘Sophie picked up the files from the original investigation into Oliver Fox’s disappearance.’ Karen handed DI Morgan the missing persons report. ‘I found a newspaper article that says Oliver Fox was a teacher at the same school as Albert Johnson. I’m sure the original report must mention his employment history.’

  DI Morgan looked up sharply. ‘That’s our link, then. The two men knew each other.’

  Karen nodded. ‘Sophie’s only just got back with the files, so we’ve not had a chance to look through them properly, but after we’ve done that perhaps we should think about talking to the family. Sophie was keen to be involved.’

  DI Morgan was too focused on flipping through the report to look up and notice Sophie’s eager expression. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. I should be the one to talk to the family, and you should come with me, Karen.’

  ‘But it would be really good experience for me,’ Sophie said.

  ‘Not this time.’ DI Morgan didn’t notice how downhearted she looked in response.

  ‘Why don’t you go to the computer lab and talk to Harinder?’ Karen suggested to Sophie. ‘He could be close to getting the address or driver number, and then we can contact the DVLA to double-check the details.’

  Sophie got to her feet with a sigh. ‘Okay.’

  Karen watched her go. Usually, Sophie jumped at the chance to speak to Harinder.

  When Sophie left them, DI Morgan asked, ‘Have you heard of DI Goodfield? He was the SIO on this missing persons case.’

  Karen shook her head. ‘No, but I imagine he’s retired by now.’

  She focused on the computer, typing in Oliver Fox’s old address and smiling at the result of the search. ‘Fox’s widow, Elizabeth, still lives at the same address, according to the electoral roll.’

  ‘Good. I think we have enough to approach the family. We’ll have to tread carefully, but I suggest we tell them we’ve found a body that could be Oliver Fox.’

  ‘You don’t think we need to wait for dental records?’

  DI Morgan shook his head. ‘We might not be able to tell the family much, especially not where we discovered the body, but they’ve been waiting for answers for thirty years. All this time, they must have been wondering if he was still alive. Not knowing must have been torture for them.’

  He took one of the files with him to his office. Karen watched him through the glass pane as he picked up the phone to call Oliver Fox’s widow.

  Delivering any kind of death message was always a terribly difficult job. It was one part of being a police officer she really didn’t like. Thankfully, she hadn’t had to inform relatives of deaths too often.

  She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of a death message, too. It had been late afternoon when the officers turned up at her front door. She’d been working nights that week, so she’d stayed home while Josh and Tilly went to the local Tesco at the bottom of Canwick Hill.

  She’d noticed they hadn’t come back but thought perhaps Josh had needed to stop for petrol. She hadn’t bothered to try to call him. He would never answer his phone while driving anyway. So when the knock at the door came, it had been a shock.

  Despite the fact Karen had seen the same sombre expression on police officers’ faces many times, she hadn’t
believed it was really happening to her at first. But they’d given her the look. The look that told her they were here to deliver bad news, before they even opened their mouths. But she’d told them there had been a mistake. They must have been sent to the wrong house. It had to be a mistake. Things like that didn’t happen to her.

  Except, of course, they did. And just like that, her happy little family, her life, her reason for getting up in the morning had gone.

  After the visit from those officers, things had become a blur. DI Freeman had come to offer his condolences personally and said not to worry about coming back to work for a while. That she could take as much time as she needed.

  Christine had been there for the worst of it. Karen’s next-door neighbour had been a tower of strength. The days, weeks and months that followed had been a hazy nightmare.

  At least her news had come suddenly. How would she have felt if Josh and Tilly just hadn’t come home that day? If she’d never had any answers, would she have been able to cope? How would she have been able to carry on living, not knowing whether they were alive or dead?

  Karen took a deep breath and forced the memories away. Turning back to the case files, she began to read.

  Sophie’s blood was boiling as she trudged down the stairs. She couldn’t believe DI Morgan had just dismissed her like that. How was she supposed to get experience on cases when she was banned from doing the important things like talking to the family of the victim? The only jobs they gave her involved sitting behind a computer screen or acting as a messenger, running errands and picking up files.

  She was better than that, and she could show them how good she could be if they’d only give her a chance. The last big case they’d been on had gone quite well. She’d worked really hard, and so she thought she’d earned a bit of trust. She certainly didn’t want to be a DC for any longer than necessary. Rick seemed perfectly happy as a detective constable, but Sophie had set her sights higher. She had goals.

  She continued to walk down the corridor towards the computer lab, unable to shake off her irritable mood.

  When she reached the door, she paused. They weren’t giving her a chance. Why? Because they wanted to do the interesting work themselves? Or was it because they didn’t think she was up to the job?

  Sophie swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d never considered that before. She’d always believed that as long as she put the work in, she could achieve anything she wanted. That was the line her parents had fed her since she was small. She’d worked really hard at this job, but perhaps she just wasn’t suited to this career.

  As if today wasn’t already bad enough. Her mortgage application had been declined, and now she’d been shown that the senior officers in the team had no confidence in her abilities.

  Feeling wretched, Sophie rapped on the door and then entered the computer lab.

  ‘Hi, Harry.’

  ‘Hi, Sophie. Good news. I’ve managed to get most of the driver number and the address for you.’ He winked at her. ‘They don’t call me Harry for nothing.’

  But Sophie didn’t even raise a smile, even though she was one of the officers who called him Harry due to his tech wizardry.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

  Sophie nodded. It must be nice to be like Harinder. Everyone knew he was brilliant at his job. He worked minor miracles on a daily basis and had earned the respect of everyone in the department, unlike her.

  ‘I’ve emailed the report to DS Hart, but I can print out a copy for you if you’d like.’

  ‘That would be great,’ Sophie said, trying and failing to muster up some enthusiasm.

  Harinder gave her a funny look and then pressed print. The printer hummed into life, and after a moment he picked up the paper and handed it to her.

  ‘Thanks very much,’ Sophie said and walked out of the room, leaving Harinder wondering what was wrong.

  Rick followed the porter who was taking Albert Johnson to the cardiac unit. The porter pushed the large, wheeled bed carefully along the wide hospital corridors.

  Rick was feeling optimistic. He’d seen Albert Johnson awake and sipping water after his breathing tube had been removed. He didn’t look well at all, but Rick supposed that was hardly surprising.

  He glanced at his watch. It was half past four. With any luck, he’d get the truth from Albert and be home in time for his mother’s carer to leave at her allotted time of seven p.m.

  But it took longer than expected. When they reached the cardiac unit, the bed had to be manoeuvred into position, and all sorts of wires and machinery had to be connected up to the old man again. They’d given him a private room, separate from the rest of the ward, and Rick wasn’t quite sure whether that was because the police were interested in Albert or because there was a medical reason for doing so. He couldn’t think why having a fall and a heart attack meant a patient got a private room, but at least it made it easier for him to keep an eye on Albert without annoying any other patients.

  The nurses’ station was just outside Albert’s room. And as Rick waited for the medical staff to do all their technical stuff, he took a look around the unit, trying to be discreet.

  In the main area of the ward there were twelve beds, all occupied and surrounded by beeping electronic displays and drips.

  ‘Can I help you?’ The sharp voice came from behind him.

  Rick turned around and saw a short woman with fierce eyes and a cropped hairstyle. ‘I’m sorry. I’m DC Cooper. I’m waiting to speak to the gentleman who has just been admitted into that room there.’ Rick pointed at the room Albert was in.

  The woman looked over her shoulder. She was dressed in a white tunic and navy-blue trousers, so Rick put her down as some kind of medical staff.

  ‘Oh, they’ve put him in the isolation room.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘It isn’t being used at the moment, so as all the other beds are full, he gets a private room.’

  ‘It takes a while to get the patients set up, doesn’t it?’ Rick grinned.

  The woman didn’t return his smile. ‘It’s probably better if you wait over there,’ she said sternly, pointing to a line of four chairs beside the nurses’ station.

  Rick did as he was told. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of anyone before he’d had a chance to talk to Albert Johnson.

  After what seemed like an age, a nurse came out of the room and smiled at him. ‘He’s settled now. A bit tired, but I think you should be able to talk to him. I’ve told him you have a few questions.’

  Rick quickly got to his feet. ‘Thank you very much.’

  He pushed open the door and slipped inside the small room. It was quiet, apart from Albert’s hoarse breathing and the occasional beep from the machinery.

  Rick walked over to his bedside. ‘Hello, Mr Johnson. I’m DC Rick Cooper, and I’m here to ask you a few questions.’

  The old man didn’t respond or even open his eyes. Rick frowned. Perhaps he was worn out from the rigmarole of moving to a new ward and had fallen asleep.

  The thought Rick had been trying to push out of his mind since he’d arrived at the hospital kept niggling at him. He’d be waiting by another hospital bed before long. His mother was ill, and she was only going to get worse. They could keep her at home now, but there would come a day when Rick would stand by her hospital bed just as he was doing today with Albert.

  He turned away from Albert, taking a deep breath to compose himself – not that the old bloke could see him, but Rick was at work. He needed to keep it together.

  He tried not to think about the future. It didn’t help. He couldn’t change it. But here in the hospital, he couldn’t stop thinking about the eventualities of his mother’s illness. Maybe it was selfish, but he wished Sophie had been assigned the task of waiting for Albert Johnson to come around.

  There was a chair next to the bed, so Rick sat down. He kept his eyes on Albert, and that was when he noticed something very odd.

  When they sl
ept, most people had their eyelids closed, but they didn’t have them squeezed shut like Albert Johnson. It was as though the man was stubbornly resisting opening his eyes because he knew Rick was there.

  After a few minutes, Rick tried again. ‘I just wanted to ask you a few questions, Mr Johnson. When you feel up to it . . .’

  The only response was Albert Johnson’s hands clutching the bed sheets.

  Rick frowned. This wasn’t working. He suspected Albert knew exactly why he was here and was pretending to be asleep.

  ‘No rush, I can stay all day until you’re ready to talk.’

  Albert’s whole body seemed tense, and that made Rick feel guilty. The man on the bed in front of him could be a murderer, but it was hard to see him as anything other than a weak old man, and Rick was starting to feel like a bully.

  He waited for half an hour and then slipped out of the room and approached the nurses’ station.

  Both nurses looked up from their paperwork.

  ‘Sorry to bother you,’ Rick said, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb the other patients. ‘The nurse I spoke to in ICU told me that Albert Johnson had woken up and would be able to talk to me soon, but he seems to be asleep. He’s not opening his eyes. Is he still sedated?’

  The nurse on Rick’s left frowned as she leaned back in her chair. ‘No, he isn’t. I’m sorry, but it seems to me that Albert Johnson just doesn’t want to talk to you.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They made it to Skellingthorpe in under fifteen minutes. DI Morgan was driving, and Karen had punched the Fox family’s Lincoln Road address into the GPS. The female voice, which Karen thought always sounded a little smug, announced they were nearing their destination.

  It was hard to see the house numbers along the stretch of road. The first section was surrounded by open fields and hedgerows, but a cluster of houses appeared as they got closer to their destination.

  Skellingthorpe was a small village, three miles outside Lincoln city centre. There had recently been a proposal for 280 new homes to be built on Lincoln Road, along with other amenities to serve the new community, but it had been met with considerable opposition, and as far as Karen knew, the plans had been shelved.