Where Secrets Lie

by D. S. Butler

  He could be watching them right now.

  Stuart walked into the living room. Karen, DI Morgan and the other officers followed, closing the front door behind them. Once inside the living room, Karen pulled the curtains shut.

  ‘What’s happened? Liz and my daughter are all right, aren’t they?’ Stuart asked. He stood in the middle of the room looking dazed.

  ‘They’re fine,’ DI Morgan said.

  The uniformed officers checked the doors and windows as DI Morgan explained the situation. So far, they had told Stuart and Michael the bare minimum. It was a delicate balance. They didn’t want to terrify the men, but they were owed an explanation. Now they had the evidence they needed against Stephen Fox, the men could be told the truth.

  ‘We believe Oliver Fox’s son, Stephen, is responsible for the deaths of James Hunter, Albert Johnson and William Grant. We’re trying to locate him,’ DI Morgan said.

  ‘Mr Grant’s dead?’ Stuart’s face crumpled. ‘I thought Mr Johnson had a fall? And James committed suicide.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Mr Grant was murdered in the early hours. We think Mr Johnson and James were pushed to their deaths.’ DI Morgan paused for a moment to let the words sink in.

  Stuart, who looked pale and shaky, took a couple of steps backwards and practically fell into an armchair.

  ‘We’ve just found Stephen Fox’s car. It’s parked just a few streets away,’ DI Morgan added.

  ‘You mean he’s coming for me . . .’

  ‘We think he could come here, Stuart,’ Karen said. There was no reason to lie to the man. If she’d been in his shoes, she would have appreciated the truth.

  ‘But why would he show up here after all this time?’

  ‘We think James Hunter must have told him the circumstances of his father’s death and he’s trying to exact some kind of payback.’

  ‘Am I in danger?’

  Karen didn’t have an answer for that.

  There was a chance Stephen Fox could have seen them arrive at the property or noticed the officers outside in the car and decided not to approach the house. But based on everything they now knew about him, Karen guessed he was on a mission and wouldn’t easily be dissuaded from his task.

  They had an armed unit on standby, but no guns would be used in a residential area unless it was absolutely unavoidable. The uniformed officers who’d escorted them there were part of a special squad armed with CS gas, batons and stun guns.

  If Stephen Fox did turn up here, Karen could only hope the element of surprise was still on their side. They’d decided not to sweep the area, because if he was nearby that would definitely alert him to their presence. For all Karen knew, he could be holed up in one of the neighbouring houses or gardens watching them.

  A unit had been stationed in an unmarked car near Merton Road, close to Stephen’s vehicle, in case he opted to return to his car. Other officers were watching Simpson’s house and were on high alert.

  Everything was in place. All they had to do now was wait.

  There were two doors into Stuart Bennett’s living room. One led to the kitchen and the other to the hall. Karen closed both doors. If Stephen Fox broke in, she didn’t want him to see the officers until the last moment.

  ‘Should I put the TV on?’ Stuart asked after they’d been sitting in silence for ten minutes.

  Karen shook her head. ‘No. We need to be able to hear him if he tries to break in.’

  She wished Stuart had gone to the station with his family, but after he’d kicked up such a fuss, they’d allowed him to stay here. She wondered if he realised he was acting as bait. It wasn’t a very nice thought, and one that Karen pushed out of her mind.

  Two of the uniformed officers stood either side of the sofa, and the other officer stood by the television. DI Morgan sat in an armchair and Karen perched on the edge of the sofa as the minutes ticked by.

  They had been there for about fifteen minutes when the sound of breaking glass made Karen jump. Everyone heard it.

  She held her breath. The noise had come from the kitchen at the back of the house. She and DI Morgan both stood up, and the uniformed officers removed their batons from their belts and moved silently into position.

  Karen kept her gaze locked on the kitchen door as the door handle turned.

  Stuart shrank back and pushed himself against the wall. He let out a low whimper, and Karen held a finger to her lips to warn him to keep quiet.

  The door opened slowly at first, and then was yanked open by one of the officers.

  Stephen Fox was pulled into the room. For a moment, his face looked a picture of confusion, then frustration, and then finally when his gaze found Stuart, his face morphed into a grimace of hatred.

  ‘It’s him,’ DI Morgan said unnecessarily. ‘Move.’

  Suddenly, there was an explosion of movement, batons raised, shouting.

  ‘Down on the ground, police!’ Every officer was shouting out orders, but still Stephen resisted, struggling against them.

  It was three against one, but Stephen jerked and lashed out, throwing off one officer, who crashed into the glass coffee table, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

  Somehow, Stephen Fox found the strength to make a dive for Stuart despite officers pulling at his arms.

  Stuart was struck motionless with terror. He stood there, eyes wide, petrified, unable to move out of the way.

  Karen shoved him and he fell against the sofa.

  DI Morgan helped the other officers, gripping Stephen’s shoulders to force him back.

  Stephen bared his teeth as he fell to his knees, looking feral and out of control. His normally carefully combed hair fell forward over his eyes, which were now narrowed to slits.

  One of the officers forced his hands into cuffs and then hauled him to his feet. Karen’s heartbeat slowed as he was led away by two officers, who read him his rights.

  She knelt down beside the officer who’d fallen on to the glass table. ‘Are you hurt?’

  He was patting himself all over, but there was no sign of any blood.

  ‘No,’ he said in amazement. ‘I’m fine.’

  Karen breathed a sigh of relief and held out a hand to help him to his feet.

  From the hallway, Stephen Fox screamed, ‘Murderer! You’ll pay for this.’

  Stuart cowered behind the sofa, trembling. He looked up, his lower lip quivering. ‘But I didn’t kill him. It wasn’t me.’

  Outside Stuart Bennett’s house, DI Morgan and Karen watched Stephen Fox as he was bundled into a police car.

  ‘That was a little hairy,’ DI Morgan said. ‘Are you okay?’

  Karen nodded. ‘Yes. Did you see the look on his face? I’ve never seen so much anger and hatred.’

  They stood there for a while longer until the police car drove away.

  ‘He was unhinged,’ DI Morgan said as they turned to walk inside. ‘But at least Stuart and Michael will be safe now.’

  Inside, they found Stuart sitting on the sofa. He couldn’t stop trembling, and although he was physically unhurt, Karen knew he would find today very difficult to get over. It wasn’t just the trauma of Stephen Fox breaking into his home, but all the memories it had brought back.

  ‘We’ll get all this stuff cleared up in no time,’ Karen said, trying to sound reassuring. ‘Forensics will need to come in first, and then we’ll make sure the back door is secured. He smashed a pane of glass to get into the kitchen.’

  ‘Right,’ Stuart said, staring blankly straight ahead.

  Looking around the room, Karen found it hard to stop thinking about the violent murder that could have taken place in this cosy, domestic scene. Among the shattered glass were children’s toys. A weekly gossip magazine rested over the arm of a chair, and a Roald Dahl book was stuffed down the side of one of the sofa cushions.

  She took a deep breath and turned back to Stuart. ‘We’ve arranged accommodation for you and your family tonight. If you’d like to come with us, we’ll take you to Nettleham, and then so
meone will drive you to a safe place to stay.’

  Stuart still stared blankly ahead.

  ‘Tomorrow night, your family will be back home, asleep in their own beds, and everything will be back to normal.’ But even as she said the words, Karen knew Stuart would never feel normal again.

  Back at the station, Karen updated Rick and Sophie, who’d been waiting anxiously for news, and DI Morgan went down to the custody suite to see Stephen Fox booked in.

  Karen rolled her shoulders, still feeling tense from the encounter.

  ‘I expect we’ll be summoned by the superintendent soon,’ Karen said. ‘She’ll want to know the full story.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go up there yet, Sarge,’ Rick said. ‘Robert Fox turned up a few minutes ago. No doubt someone tipped him off about his nephew’s arrest. I imagine he’s not a happy bunny at the moment.’

  Karen shook her head. It amazed her how quickly news could spread. She didn’t really fancy a run-in with Robert Fox today.

  ‘Maybe I’ll leave it until she summons me then,’ Karen said, sitting down.

  She felt exhausted. All the adrenaline that had been running through her veins half an hour ago had left her system. All she wanted to do now was curl up on her sofa with a glass of red wine, and a series to binge-watch on Netflix.

  ‘Just so I have this clear, we think Stephen killed James Hunter, then pushed Albert Johnson down the stairs and then slit William Grant’s throat?’ Sophie asked, looking up from her monitor. ‘Martin wasn’t involved at all?’

  ‘It looks that way,’ Karen said, gratefully accepting a mug of coffee from Rick. ‘He was ranting away during the car journey here. I don’t think we have to worry about him talking. They couldn’t get him to shut up. He’s proud of everything he did. He said he found out about James Hunter’s involvement after James got drunk one night and confessed. He told Stephen who was involved in his father’s death, and then Stephen methodically planned his revenge against everyone involved.’

  ‘But they said they didn’t kill him. They said they just stumbled on the body in the changing rooms.’

  Karen raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, that’s what they said.’

  Sophie’s jaw dropped open, and for a moment she was speechless. She soon recovered, though. ‘If they killed Oliver Fox because he abused them like he did Mark Bell, then he got what he deserved. We won’t charge them for Oliver Fox’s death, will we? That would be inhuman!’

  Karen sipped her coffee and then sighed. ‘Remember that chat we had, Sophie? You can’t be idealistic in this job. It’s not a perfect world, and most of the time things aren’t fair. Our job is to solve the case. No one appointed us judge and jury.’

  Sophie shook her head, her light-brown curls bobbing furiously. ‘But it isn’t fair. It’s just not right, Sarge.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Sophie turned away on the pretext of settling down at her computer to do some work, but she stared blankly at the screen. Just when she thought she could really make a go of this job, the rug was pulled from beneath her again. It was so unfair.

  If Oliver Fox had abused those boys . . . Sophie’s mind ran through the possibilities. What could she do to help them? Surely there had to be something.

  She shot a sideways glance at Karen and Rick, and saw that they were still deep in conversation and weren’t paying any attention to her.

  She could try to talk to Michael and Stuart. Maybe she could tip them off.

  Perhaps she could convince them to pin all the blame on James Hunter.

  That idea didn’t sit easily with Sophie. It wasn’t a decent thing to do, and it would be an insult to James Hunter’s memory, but on the other hand, the CPS couldn’t prosecute a dead man. And at least neither Michael nor Stuart would go to prison. Wasn’t that the most important thing?

  She looked again at Rick and Karen to make sure they weren’t watching, and then pressed a few keys on her keyboard to bring up Michael Simpson and Stuart Bennett’s addresses and contact details. She hesitated. Ideally, she’d need to find a way to speak to them in person. If she called them, there would be a record of her getting in touch, and it could come back to bite her – she could maybe even lose her job over it.

  Was it really the right thing to do? She felt torn. Karen had a point. It wasn’t her place to see that justice was done, but at the same time, she couldn’t stand the thought of those men being punished after everything they’d been through.

  Before she could decide what to do, there was a commotion on the far side of the office, and Sophie turned to look, as did everyone else in the vicinity.

  Retired Detective Superintendent Robert Fox stormed in, striding towards them, followed by Superintendent Murray. His face was puce, and his jowls wobbled as he began to berate everyone.

  ‘This is ridiculous! You can’t possibly have the right man. This investigation was bungled from start to finish. Don’t you dare think about questioning Stephen without a lawyer. I swear, I’ll throw the book at you.’ He jabbed his finger in Karen’s direction.

  Karen slid her chair backwards and stood up slowly to look Robert Fox in the eye. He was such a nasty man. How could he be so indignant, knowing what his brother had done, and now knowing that his nephew had murdered three people in cold blood?

  Sophie believed he must have used his influence to cover up his brother’s crimes, and that was why the original investigation into Oliver Fox had been buried before it really started. In her book, that made him complicit. Worse than that, it made him evil.

  She stood up beside Karen in a gesture of solidarity and glared at Robert Fox.

  How the man had the gall to shout at them was beyond her comprehension. After all, it was his shoddy police work that had led them to this. If Oliver Fox had been investigated and prosecuted when the rumours of abuse had first surfaced, then William Grant, Albert Johnson and James Hunter would still be alive. It was also possible that Mark Bell would not have committed suicide if he believed his abuser would be punished.

  But Robert Fox continued to rant and rave at them, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth as he yelled.

  Once or twice, Superintendent Murray tried to interrupt, but she couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Sophie looked at Rick and shook her head. It beggared belief.

  Unfortunately, Robert Fox caught the look between them and turned on Sophie. ‘You, young lady, are everything that’s wrong with the police force today. You have no respect for your senior officers.’

  Sophie was tempted to snipe back that they called it the police service these days because it was less threatening than using the word ‘force’, but she thought that would just set him off on another tirade.

  ‘If you spent more time doing actual police work, and less time rolling your eyes, you might catch a clue now and again.’

  That hit a nerve. She swallowed hard and tried not to show him she was upset.

  Karen put a hand on her shoulder. ‘That’s uncalled for, Mr Fox. You don’t know DC Jones, and I can vouch for the fact she’s an excellent officer.’

  Karen’s use of ‘Mr’ rather than the respectful use of his rank was deliberate, and it only riled the horrible man even more.

  Sophie glanced at Superintendent Murray and wondered why she was letting him shout at them like this, making a spectacle of himself. Usually, the superintendent was very quick to deal out a scathing comment and put people in their place. Sophie admired that quality in her boss. Was she holding back because she was worried she might lose her job? It was true the man was friendly with the assistant commissioner, but Superintendent Murray couldn’t get in trouble over this surely. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

  But Superintendent Murray was watching Robert Fox closely, so closely it almost seemed as though she was egging him on. A trace of a smile played on her lips.

  Why was she just watching him? His obnoxious temper tantrum was now drawing a crowd, as other officers shifted a little closer and circled around them.

  Sophi
e was getting a little tired of the ranting now, but Robert Fox showed no signs of slowing down.

  ‘This incompetent police work will never stand up in a court of law. Even with all this technology, you’re far worse than this force was in the eighties. Things have gone backwards. His murder should have been solved years ago. There must have been so much blood and evidence everywhere. All they had to do was examine the boys’ changing room for blood, and the case would have been solved. And another thing . . .’

  Robert Fox trailed off as he realised what he’d said.

  For a moment, everyone was silent.

  Then Karen said, ‘We didn’t tell Detective Superintendent Fox where his brother’s body was found, ma’am, did we?’

  Superintendent Murray gave Robert Fox an ice-cold smile. ‘No, DS Hart. We did not.’

  Robert Fox looked horrified. He began to stammer. ‘Well . . . I just . . . I just assumed it must have happened at the school . . . It was where he worked.’

  ‘True,’ Karen said slowly. ‘But the changing room is a very specific location. And, of course, you’re right. We will look for trace evidence. I promise you, we’ll scour every last inch of the changing room, and I’m willing to bet we’ll find something linking you to the scene of the crime.’

  The look on his face was pure panic. Sophie held her breath.

  He muttered something about the assistant commissioner mentioning it, but Sophie knew that wasn’t true. The assistant commissioner may have been perfectly happy to put a little pressure on his junior officers, but he wouldn’t leak details of the case and risk losing his comfortable pension.

  She watched Robert Fox floundering, trying desperately to correct his mistake, but of course, he couldn’t. He’d given the game away. If he’d known Oliver Fox was murdered in the boys’ changing room at Greenhill Secondary School that could only mean one thing. He’d killed his own brother.