by Helen Phifer
She turned to see Alex, her face hidden behind a pair of large designer sunglasses.
‘Alex, I bought you a latte. I hope that’s OK?’
She nodded. ‘If it contains caffeine, I’ll drink it. Thank you.’
‘I have to say, yours was much better this morning. Have you ever considered opening up a coffee shop?’
The woman laughed. ‘I’d love to, anything to get out of the family business would be great. It wasn’t my first choice of career.’ Alex pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her.
‘How did you end up working there then? Sorry if I’m being overly personal, just tell me to mind my own business.’
‘No, it’s fine. I told you, I don’t get to have many conversations with living people. I kind of got sucked in to it. About three months after my mum passed away, my dad had a minor heart attack right when I was about to leave for university. I didn’t want to leave him; James is lazy at the best of times and I knew he wasn’t about to change. That business means everything to my dad; it was my grandad who started it. I didn’t have the heart to leave him alone to run it when he wasn’t in great shape.’
‘That’s very good of you. I don’t know if I’d have been so keen to give up my chance to go to uni.’
‘What about you, why did you want to be a pathologist?’
Beth decided to be frank with her: she wanted to gain her trust. ‘I didn’t, not at first. I was an A&E doctor. I loved the thrill of helping people, saving lives even if we were understaffed and under pressure.’
‘How did you go from saving people to cutting up dead bodies? It’s a bit of a leap.’
‘I was attacked, and afterwards I went through a really bad time. After that, I didn’t want to face people, well not living ones. So I retrained as a pathologist. I trust the dead more than the living, so it seemed easier and so much safer.’
‘Oh, God. That must have been terrible. I’m sorry for asking.’
‘No, don’t be. It feels good to talk about it. I’ve sort of been living under a shell since it happened and hiding myself away. It was a few years ago now; he’s in prison. Life is good, most of the time.’
They sipped their coffees, both of them silent. It was Beth who spoke first.
‘You said you might have recognised the girl in the photo I showed you earlier. Would you mind telling me how? Before you answer, I have a favour to ask. I have a very good friend who happens to be the lead detective on the case. He’s sitting over on that bench in the church.’ She pointed to where Josh was sitting. ‘Would you mind if he came and joined us? You don’t have to say yes. If you’d rather it was just you and me I understand.’
Alex bit her lip and turned to look at Josh, who was watching them. He lifted a hand and waved. She lifted hers and gave a slight wave, then looked back at Beth.
‘I suppose once I tell you it’s going to go further anyway, so I might as well tell you both. The thing is, I don’t want to upset my dad or give the company a bad name.’
‘Thank you, we’ll try and deal with anything you tell us as discreetly as possible.’
An overwhelming feeling of relief washed over Beth as she waved Josh over; at least it wasn’t all down to her now.
Fifty-Seven
Josh pulled over a chair and introduced himself to Alex, who nervously smiled back at him.
‘I recognise you. You’re the guy caught sneaking around the garages yesterday. You nearly gave James a heart attack.’
He held up his right hand. ‘Guilty as charged. I’m sorry for the intrusion, but why was James so upset?’
‘He said it’s because it’s a funeral home. He thought it was disrespectful; although he was probably more worried you’d find the stash of weed he keeps hidden out in the garage, so my dad doesn’t find it. It was him who made my dad ring up to get you in trouble. Did you?’
He laughed; he liked the young woman sitting opposite him. She was sharp and witty.
‘I got a bit of a bollocking, yes.’
‘Why didn’t you come inside with your partner and ask to have a look around?’
‘I didn’t think you’d let me.’
‘I wasn’t there, but I would have. My dad got loads of grief off James, so he had to ring up.’
Beth spoke next. ‘Alex, do you want to tell us why you wanted to speak to me away from the funeral home?’
She nodded. ‘That photo, the girl in it, I’m sure I’ve seen her before. Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble, though God knows it’s probably too late anyway. If he finds out I’ve spoken to the police, he’ll go mental. It’s tough, but I can cope with him. He’s such a moody, angry man at times.’ Josh leaned in a little closer. ‘I told Beth I don’t want any bad press for the business if it’s possible. All I care about is my dad.’
‘I’ll do my best, Alex, but I can’t promise. It all depends on how serious what you have to tell me is.’
‘I know. I don’t know what she’s called, but I’ve seen her with James a couple of times.’
Josh looked at Beth, then back at Alex.
‘When was the last time you saw them together?’
‘A couple of months ago now. She was a strange girl. She’d hang around, come in and ask if James was about. It used to irritate me. The last time they met I remember they had a bit of an argument. He took her out the back. I shouldn’t have been listening, but I wanted to know why she was there and what she wanted from him.’
‘What did she want from him?’ asked Josh.
‘Weed, sex and money mostly. I think she was lonely, though, she just wanted someone to be her friend. What happened was they argued, she called him a heartless bastard who didn’t mind screwing her when he had no one else. Then she started crying and I heard him trying to shush her. A couple of minutes later I heard them having sex. I was horrified and ran off back to the reception. I mean, they were having sex in the embalming room where he prepares the bodies. I could hear her groaning; it was so embarrassing. I was praying my dad wouldn’t turn up. It would have been enough to give him another heart attack. She was far too young for James; then again, he’s always liked women younger than himself.’ She stopped suddenly, the realisation that she’d said too much making her blush.
Josh wanted to punch the air; at last, a connection to Dean & Sons that gave them motive and a good enough reason for a search warrant.
‘Thank you for being so honest. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to act on the information you’ve told me. I must; there could be vital evidence. There’s also another missing woman who I’m afraid might die if we don’t act quickly.’
Alex’s face had lost all its colour. She’d pushed her sunglasses on top of her head.
‘What happened after they’d had sex?’ Josh was aware there were families all around them and kept his voice quiet.
‘He drove out of the gates with her sitting in the passenger seat of one of the fleet cars. I don’t know where they went, sorry.’
‘How long was he gone?’
‘Thirty minutes, I’m not sure. The roads are bad around here; those roadworks to replace the water mains on the A592 have caused us no end of problems. I don’t know whether he took her home; I don’t know where she lived.’
Josh felt bad: the woman looked thoroughly miserable now. He began to wrack his brains how he could play this.
‘I have an idea. I need to get a warrant and search for any forensic evidence at the funeral home, but I don’t want to get you in trouble with your family. Could you phone Crimestoppers from a payphone? It’s anonymous and you don’t need to give them any contact details. Tell them you saw James Dean in a car with a woman who you believe has been found murdered. They will have to give us the authority to follow up on it. Then I’ll take it from there. All you have to do is act surprised when we turn up. I’ll act like I’ve never met you before, Alex.’
‘I suppose that might work.’ She stood up. ‘Look, I need to get back now, or Dad will wonder where I’ve been. I’ll stop
off and make the phone call at the public phone box on Glebe Road. If it still works.’
She stood up then, drained the last of her drink and smiled at Beth. Josh stood up, too. He held out his hand and shook hers.
‘Thank you, you’ve done the right thing. Hopefully it’s nothing to do with James and we can rule him out. No more sneaking around.’
Beth waited until she left and was out of hearing.
‘I didn’t expect that.’
‘No, neither did I. Thanks, Beth.’
She nodded. ‘Glad to help.’
* * *
Josh took a large coffee over to Sam as a peace offering. She was leaning against the bonnet looking bored, but she took it from him and got back inside the car.
‘So, was that worth an hour of your time?’
He nodded. ‘Every minute’
‘That good eh? Now what?’
‘Now we have to go back to the station and get a search team together, then wait for the call to come in.’
‘What call?’
‘From Crimestoppers; it’s going to drop James Dean knee-deep in shit. And it will give us enough to get a warrant to search the funeral home.’
She sipped her coffee. ‘Whatever you say, boss. But what about the warning you had to keep away?’
‘If it’s come through Crimestoppers, they will have to act on it, because the information is far too good to ignore. The beauty of it is that it’s nothing to do with me. Well, technically it isn’t.’
He got in and drove back to Kendal station as fast as the speed limit allowed. He knew this could be the big break they were looking for. If they searched the undertaker’s and found Annie Potts alive, then perhaps he could deal with the other crisis in his life.
Fifty-Eight
Beth started the drive home, relieved that Josh hadn’t been angry with her and that Alex had come through with some useful information. But she didn’t make it far before she slowed the car to a stop. Something was bothering her, and she didn’t know what. Something at the back of her mind was calling her back to the cemetery for another look. Maybe a look at the gravesite would help her to focus on what was niggling at the edge of her consciousness. She couldn’t stop thinking about Annie Potts and what might be making Josh so convinced that the same monster who killed Chantel Price had abducted her from the hotel. Maybe Josh would open up to her a little later when he came home from work.
As she pulled into the cemetery gates she saw a familiar face smiling back at her from a car exiting the cemetery. Phil pulled alongside and put the window down, looking unusually smart in a black suit and tie.
‘Hey! Are you coming to the pub again tomorrow night, or did the happy couple put you off for life?’
She laughed. ‘Who, Audrey and Bob? I think they’re sweet actually and yes, I think I will. I enjoyed myself. Were you at a funeral?’
He shrugged. ‘Yeah, my friend’s dad sadly passed last week. I’ve just been to visit his grave and say goodbye, I couldn’t make it to the funeral.’ ‘Sorry to hear that, it’s tough. You don’t ever want to have to say goodbye to a loved one, no matter how old they are. Look, I’m sorry but I need to get on, it’s a work thing. I just needed to check something out. I’ll see you tomorrow? Take care, Phil.’
He smiled at her, but it wasn’t his usual cheery smile. He looked sad. As she drove away she realised she knew very little about him and hoped that he wasn’t going home to an empty house.
Driving up the hill, she reached the chapel and parked next to the rusted fencing. It was so peaceful here. She spotted a marble memorial bench near to the still-open grave and walked over to take a seat and think everything through. The bench was dedicated to a woman named Gail O’Neill, which sounded familiar to Beth. Wondering where she knew it from, she realised it was the name of a local PCSO who’d died from cancer far too young last year. She had spoken to her a couple of times, and what she remembered most about her was her kindness; nothing had ever been too much trouble for her. The world needed more people like that, more happiness.
She stared at the open grave a few feet away from her. All that remained of what horrors they’d discovered here was the blue and white police tape that had been wrapped around either side of the graves, and the neat mound of soil next to it which had been sieved by the forensic anthropologist to make sure all the evidence had been collected. She wondered when Florence Wright was going to be reburied. Would Florence’s family even want her to go back in there? If a body had been found underneath her own mum’s coffin, she wasn’t sure she’d want her to go back into the same hole. Not that it really mattered, she supposed, they were both dead.
Beth inhaled deeply then released her breath. She did this three times. Abe called it being mindful and raved about a meditation class he attended once a week. He’d even invited her along several times. Standing up, she wished she’d brought some flowers to lay by the grave for Chantel, but it hadn’t entered her head. She would stop off at the florist’s on the way home and buy a bunch to put on her dining table. Something bright and vibrant, something to make her smile and remember what it was like to be younger and carefree. She decided now was the time to pay a visit to Dalton View Care Home. She wanted to know more about the girl that no one seemed to care about except for her and Josh.
Fifty-Nine
Happy with his little gift, he crept back through the bushes just as a police van rounded the bend. He crouched down, heart pounding in his chest, a sheen of perspiration prickling his forehead as he pretended to search for something in the long grass around him. Stealing a glance at the coppers inside the van he almost laughed out loud when he realised they were too busy talking to each other to notice him. Standing tall, he stepped out onto the road and strolled back down to his car, the terror churning in his stomach quickly changing to a delicious tingle as the fear of getting caught added to the enjoyment of what he was doing. He knew he was taking excessive risks and he hoped she appreciated it. Everything he did was for her. Would she realise this when the time came? Would she appreciate his effort? He liked to think so.
He’d left the gift on her patio table knowing how much she liked to sit there with a large glass of wine and stare at the lake after a long shift. He would do the same if he had that kind of view. It truly was beautiful and such a shame he couldn’t sit there with her. At one point in his life he’d thought that maybe they could, if she’d just give him a chance, but Beth Adams had time for no one but herself and that would be her downfall. It seemed her house was her only real luxury. She drove a nice car, but nothing too extravagant; she dressed nicely but nothing too showy or designer. She never took holidays, preferring to spend the days she had off work pottering around her garden. He’d been watching her for so long he felt as if he knew her better than she probably knew herself…
It was almost time; the watching and the waiting was finally about to pay off and he couldn’t be more excited at the prospect of what lay ahead for him. And Beth.
Sixty
The convoy of police vehicles that drove up to Dean & Sons funeral home was pretty impressive; even Josh thought so and he’d been doing this job a long time. He wished someone had filmed the chief super’s face when the message had come through from Crimestoppers and was delivered in person by Barker. Josh looked at the search warrant next to him on the seat, signed by the Right Honourable Judge Farley. They couldn’t brush this under the carpet, not while there was a chance Annie Potts was still alive.
It was after closing time and the gates were shut and locked. Josh couldn’t deny the buzz he felt in his stomach, and the butterflies; everything he had was depending upon this. He needed enough evidence to bring James Dean in. His car was first in the convoy, behind him was the huge van full of the task force officers who would also conduct the search of the premises. Behind that was the CSI van. It was no surprise to Josh that Carl had phoned in sick, the coward.
Josh pressed the intercom and wondered who was going to answer, hoping it would
be Alex. Not that it mattered; he would search every corner and lift every coffin lid if he had to; he wasn’t leaving here empty-handed.
‘Can I help you?’ The voice was male, older than he’d expected.
‘Yes, it’s the police. We have a search warrant to come in and search these premises for evidence which might link to the murder of Chantel Price and/or the disappearance of Annie Potts.’
‘Who are they, and what have they got to do with Dean & Sons?’
Josh resisted the urge to say: ‘You tell me.’ Instead he smiled. ‘If you open the gates and let me and my colleagues through I can explain it fully to you, in person.’
The intercom went quiet. After a minute the gates began to slowly open.
Sam looked at him. ‘Nice one, Josh. Do you think he’s shitting himself?’
‘We’re about to find out.’
He drove through, hoping to God they were going to find something worthwhile that might help break the case, because he had nothing else.
Sixty-One
Dalton View wasn’t at all what Beth had expected. She’d envisioned a sprawling house in its own grounds, a smaller version of Dean & Sons maybe. What she hadn’t expected was the terraced house along one of the busier town centre streets in Kendal. The three-storey house had a glass front door, the lower pane taped up with a piece of cardboard and yellow electricians’ tape. It was open, so she pushed it and walked inside the tiny entrance where there was a two-seater sofa with two teenage girls sat on it listening to music on their phones. Both of them looked her up and down, decided she wasn’t worth bothering about and continued staring down at their phones.
Behind a sliding glass window, two women were staring at her. She smiled at them and began to introduce herself. One of them leaned forward and slid open the glass the tiniest bit. Beth realised they hadn’t heard a word of what she’d just said.
