‘Oh, indeed. I reckon if we look hard enough we may well find more stuff relating to the previous owners. But, Lizzie, but… is poor treatment of horses a reason to murder two people?’
Lizzie thought about the question. ‘I’m not a horsey person, but my best friend at school was. Still is. She’s got four horses and runs a stable now.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I think she would happily murder someone who hurt her horses.’
Sally snorted, her northern accent more pronounced as she expressed disbelief. ‘Don’t be daft, Lizzie.’
Lizzie cocked her head to one side. ‘What if the Stewarts had hurt your children? How would you answer the question then?’ Sally frowned. ‘Exactly. To my friend, the horses are her children.’
Sally puffed out her cheeks and blew air up to ruffle her fringe. ‘Bloody hell, homicidal horsey ladies, whatever next? Okay, I take your point, clever sod, even though it’s a ridiculous one. Found anything yourself?’
‘You need to come upstairs; I’m not sure what I’ve found.’
Lizzie led the way to a tiny fourth bedroom room at the back of the house. ‘Look, there has been someone living here, and,’ she lifted a single trainer off the floor, ‘she wore size six trainers. So who is she, why hasn’t anyone mentioned her, and where is she now?’
Sally looked at the bed. The duvet had been tossed aside like someone had just got out of bed. There were toiletries on the bedside table, a small mirror and a woman’s dressing gown on a peg behind the door. Clothes spilled out of a suitcase on the floor at the foot of the single bed. ‘It must be the Dani that Solomon mentioned in the kitchen before Annie silenced him. She didn’t pack before she left, did she? That’s odd.’
‘You don’t think they’ve done away with her as well, do you?’ Lizzie’s dark eyes were round.
Sally wished fervently that Dan would hurry up and get there. This felt like it was moving way above her pay grade. ‘I have no idea. Nip over and get the crime lab team up here. See if we can get a DNA sample. Hurry up, they’ll be getting ready to leave.’
As soon as Lizzie ran off down the stairs, Sally left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Standing on the cramped landing, she rang Dan at the station but he didn’t pick up. She left a message. ‘Sir, this is getting weird. I found a letter written in 2005 to the previous owners by the RSPCA about their poor treatment of horses; and Merlin has just gone off on one about the RSPCA coming to observe us today. Coincidence? And Lizzie has found a bedroom where a woman has been living who I think must be the Dani girl. But where is she now? Seriously, I’ve got serial killer shivers.’
She rang off and took a minute to sort out her head. Mustn’t get melodramatic, she told herself. She rang Paula Tippett at the station and updated her, then asked her to trace Dani Bonner. If the girl was working legitimately somewhere else, there would be records.
Calmer, she went into Annie’s room. Perhaps this was where she kept the paperwork relating to the house and business, as she couldn’t find it downstairs.
46
Dan drove onto the car park at The Retreat and pulled up next to an RSPCA van. That was good, he was sure there was loads of work to do and Merlin was on his own now. He suited up and dug out his own new wellington boots. He’d bought a boot bag to put them in so they didn’t mess up the Audi.
Walking the site gave him an idea of the extent of their search. He could see the gangly figure of Sam Knowles and two others in the far field, which was not filled with goats and donkeys this afternoon. They seemed to be pulling old corrugated iron sheets away from a dilapidated shed. He watched them for a few minutes, popped his head into the barn so that Ben Bennett knew he had arrived, and made his way across to the café.
The forensic team had taken their samples and cleaned up the acid spills. There were many evidence bags in containers being loaded into their van. The senior forensic scientist from the crime lab nodded as Dan stood at the kitchen door.
‘You can come in now, inspector. We’ve done here.’
‘And what have you found?’
The man tugged down the zip on his protective suit. ‘Enough to say that a mephedrone-like substance has been made on the premises.’
Dan grinned at him. ‘Got the pair of ‘em,’ he said.
‘Your DC Singh has just been over to pinch one of my team to take a DNA sample from the cottage.’
Dan raised an eyebrow. ‘Has she? I’d better get over there. Is this building alright for us to enter, now?’
‘It is. I don’t think we need to keep it taped off. I imagine they will want to open the place to the public again soon?’
‘I imagine Mr Garrett is desperate to open, but I don’t think we’re finished on site yet. You’d better be on standby; we’ve connected this case to the Bog Bodies.’
The scientist whistled through his teeth as Dan hurried around the outside of the building and headed for the cottage.
Inside, he found Lizzie Singh sitting at the large, battered, pine kitchen table, over-heating in the fug from the ancient Aga and going through a box file of old papers. A plate and two mugs sat in the sink, remains from Merlin’s lunch, he assumed. ‘Hello, Lizzie,’ he said, ‘what’s the DNA sample for?’
She stopped putting papers into piles and looked up at him, pushing damp black hair off her forehead. ‘You haven’t picked up your messages, have you, sir? DS Ellis won’t be impressed.’
‘Just tell me.’
‘Sir. We think the girl, Dani Bonner, may have been living here. She seems to have gone without packing or anything.’
The lab technician appeared from the stairway holding a small bag. ‘Got the sample from her hairbrush, thanks. I’ll get that back to you as soon as possible,’ she said, and left.
‘Good work getting that done before we lose the team to another crime. Where is DS Ellis, by the way?’
‘I’m up here, in Annie Garrett’s wardrobe,’ came a muffled shout from above his head. ‘Come up.’
Dan pounded up the narrow stairs after Lizzie and they trooped into the small bedroom, where the only visible part of Sally Ellis was her rear end. She was almost inside a huge, old, walnut double wardrobe. Dan had no idea how something so large could have fitted through the doors. Unless they had assembled it in the room?
‘I’m just… Yes, got it,’ she said, and shuffled out backwards carrying a soft-sided leather briefcase. She passed it to Dan and sneezed. ‘I knew she had to have something hidden somewhere,’ she gasped, and pulled herself up from the floor by leaning on the bed. ‘We’ve found nothing else useful except the RSPCA warning notice.’ She looked at Dan’s face. ‘You didn’t get the message, did you?’
‘Sorry, Sally, I had it turned off in the interview, and forgot to switch it back on. What are you looking for?’
Sally brushed herself off. ‘Leases, mortgage agreements, anything that links the Garretts to the Stewarts. I think it might be in there,’ she said indicating the briefcase. ‘I doubted she would be able to throw everything away. In fact, as long as the rent or mortgage gets paid each month, I don’t see why anyone would think there was a problem. The warning notice was delivered here in 2005. Were the Garretts working here, then?’
Dan led them back down into the warm kitchen and unzipped the front of his protective suit. He rang Larcombe and asked him to find out when Annie Garrett had begun working at The Retreat. Then he leant against the open kitchen door, folded his arms and had a think. He batted away a bee.
‘Money problems are at the root of all this,’ he said finally. ‘Annie’s mostly fabricated statement hit the truth on a couple of occasions. The first was when she said that Moss was trying to help out by raising a bit of extra cash. As far as Annie’s concerned, MCat is a legal high and therefore not dangerous. She hasn’t kept up with the law, obviously. They’re struggling to keep this little business afloat, and this place is the only thing she really cares about. This place and Moss, hard though that is to believe.’
‘Good son, bad
son, who’s she gonna choose? But didn’t she show any remorse about the death of Ryan Carr at all?’ asked Sally.
‘Not a bit. Kids do stupid things and it’s their own fault if things go wrong.’ He shook his head and plonked himself into the chair next to Lizzie.
‘You said a couple of things, sir,’ said Lizzie.
‘Right, the other thing was about Dani Bonner. Annie claims that Bonner was the chemist, but that she disappeared without working her notice and left them in the lurch, both in the café and in the drugs’ manufacture. According to Annie, Dani should take the blame for the death because if she’d stayed then there would have been no problem.’
‘Loving that logic,’ said Lizzie. ‘No acceptance of her role in Ryan’s death, blame the other person. Nice lady.’
‘If Dani Bonner really was a chemist, perhaps she studied at Exeter,’ said Sally. She took out her phone. ‘Let me ring my security guard friend and get him to check the records. He likes to help the police.’
‘He likes to help you, sarge,’ Lizzie sniggered, and emptied the papers out of the briefcase onto the table. Riffling through them, her eyes lit up. ‘Here, sir, look.’ She picked up a mortgage deed document and opened it out. It was made out on the names of Brian and Ailish Stewart, dated 24th August 1998.
‘If the deeds are there, then the Stewarts must have paid the mortgage off in full, otherwise the bank would hold them,’ said Sally. ‘No wonder we can’t find details of rental agreements, and such like.’
Both women stared at Dan, excitement flushing their faces.
‘This might be it, ladies,’ he said. ‘Unless there’s another deed in there transferring the place to the Garretts, I don’t think she can wriggle out of a charge of murder, do you?’
Sally punched the air. ‘Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, CPS,’ she said, ‘we’ve got them, boss.’
‘But,’ he murmured, ‘who did the actual deed? Was it two of them? Or all three?’
A loud knock on the door jamb interrupted them. Sam Knowles stuck his head into the kitchen. ‘Sarge? Oh, sir, didn’t realise you were here. You need to come and look. We think we’ve found something.’ He headed back out towards the far field without waiting for them.
‘You stay here and process all that paperwork, Lizzie, and make sure the mortgage deed gets to Sergeant Bennett asap. Got it?’
Lizzie nodded reluctantly, a frown between her eyebrows.
Dan and Sally zipped up and headed across the field. Sally, in her work shoes, skirted the muddy patches and took a bit longer to arrive at the shed in the furthest corner. Two PCs stood guard and Sam Knowles, hopping from one foot to the other like an agitated stork, flapped his arms to make them walk faster.
‘Give us a minute, DC Knowles,’ said Dan, stepping over a sheet of corrugated iron. Sally stood next to him, balancing on the sheet rather than on the mud. Behind the PCs was the rusted hulk of a vehicle.
‘I reckon this is it, sir,’ shouted Sam. ‘Brian Stewart’s Land Rover. Look here.’ He climbed over brambles and nettles, glad they couldn’t penetrate his suit. In position, he lifted up a hank of creeping ivy and pushed it back over the top of the shed. ‘See? A red one, old style.’
‘It certainly looks like a Land Rover,’ said Dan. He couldn’t remember ever finding such good evidence at a crime scene, especially for a cold case. ‘Good find, Sam. It looks like someone up there really wants us to prosecute these characters, doesn’t it?’
The car was a wreck, red paint showing under rust, the seats had been cannibalised for another vehicle, and Dan assumed the wheels had also been taken. He pushed to the back of the wreck through brambles which caught at his legs, and tugged at the rear door. ‘Give me a hand,’ he said to Sam.
The rear door hung off its hinges, at an angle. Dan put his shoulder under it and lifted. Sam yanked it backwards, wincing at the squeal of the long-rusted door. Inside the rear was an old green tarpaulin, wrapped tightly around a bundle. Dan looked at the shape of the bundle, and back at Sally. ‘Get your camera out, Sal.’ Flexing his fingers inside their latex gloves, he gingerly lifted a corner of the tarpaulin. Black trainers attached to grey socks, and a pair of ankle bones appeared as he pulled it back. Dan dropped the tarpaulin, raised his eyebrows at Sally, and said, ‘We’ve got another body.’
Sally swore her way over the brambles to get in as close as she could, all thoughts of muddy shoes forgotten. ‘Who the bloody hell is it?’
He raised both hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘Beats me. How many people have these loonies killed?’
‘It’s not Dani Bonner, they’re men’s trainers,’ said Sally. ‘Who else could it be?’
‘We should leave it for forensics, but let’s just have a quick peek while we’re here. I’ll try not to disturb anything.’ Carefully he pulled the tarpaulin aside. The body had been there for a long time, and the insects had done their work a long time ago. Dan stared at a skeletal face and the remnants of clothes that the rats had not taken a fancy to, and shrugged. ‘Could be anybody at all. Take a couple of shots and let’s get out of here.’
Dan replaced the tarpaulin and clambered back over the brambles. ‘Let’s get off the crime scene, then.’ They walked back and stood in a huddle in the middle of the field. The PCs were looking more animated than they had all afternoon. ‘I need a guard on this until forensics gets over here. Stay together, and do not, do not let Merlin Garrett get anywhere near the scene. Got that?’
They nodded.
‘Sam, get on the phone to the crime lab, they’re going to need to come back immediately. Sally, go and find Ben Bennett in the barn, we’ll need him out here, too.’ He used the corner of the phone to scratch his head. ‘I’d better ring Bill back at the station and get him to alert our esteemed pathologist. We can’t do a lot until Fox arrives.’
47
Dan followed Sally back over the field towards the barn. He had to arrest Merlin Garrett. He couldn’t leave him here with a concealed body found on the premises. But what would that mean for the animals? He had a horrible feeling The Retreat was about to implode… Claire. She was supposed to have a home check this afternoon ready for collecting Rufus on Saturday. He had no idea if she was ever going to get the cat, but he took a moment to leave a message on her phone. The message he got back was uncompromising: Stuff Merlin, what about the animals? And I want my Rufus. Do something, please.
In the field next to the barn, Merlin Garrett walked four dogs, two in each hand. PC Turner had two dogs, one in each hand. So far Garrett hadn’t spotted the small crowd around the Land Rover in the furthest field. Dan took the opportunity to have a word with the RSPCA officer.
Steven Carver was covered in a pair of green overalls which were tucked into green wellington boots. He was on his way out of the cattery when he saw Dan approach. ‘Ah, Inspector Hellier, I presume,’ he said. ‘As you can see, we’ve decided we need to be hands-on. Ella is cleaning out the guinea pigs and I have poo-picked in the cattery. It’s not a glamorous job, animal care,’ he chuckled, indicating the lidded bucket that swung from his hand, ‘but if you love it, you love it.’
He put on a serious expression, forcing lips closed over long teeth. ‘Mr Garrett was very unhappy to see us here, but he’s calmed down a bit now, heh, heh.’ He shrugged, ‘It’s often the way. There’s no way Mr Garrett can run this operation on his own, you know?’
Dan nodded; he’d worked that out for himself. ‘Mr Carver, I’m going to have to take Merlin Garrett into custody this evening, so there won’t be anybody here tomorrow apart from police officers. I’m going to need your help, and it’s not going to be short-term.’
Carver blanched. ‘You can’t just shut up shop! There must be, I don’t know, going on for sixty animals in these pens. Who’s going to look after them?’
‘I was hoping there’d be some sort of emergency team for this sort of situation?’ Dan said. ‘I’ve seen it on TV.’
‘Well, there is, but it’s such short notice and I do
n’t think–’
Dan cut over him. ‘You have about twenty minutes before I arrest him, so I suggest you get back on to head office and see what you can arrange. You can get the volunteer list as well. After all, we wouldn’t want the animals to come to any harm, would we?’ Before Carver could bluster any more, Dan thanked him and stepped away. He found in these instances, it was best neither to hesitate nor look back.
On his way to the barn, he texted Claire. All sorted re animals, no worries. You won’t get Rufus on Sat though. Xx. One less thing to worry about. Then he rang the station and passed on the latest bit of news. Sally was right, the Garretts were beginning to look like serial killers, and pretty cold-blooded ones at that. He just hoped he had all the main suspects under arrest or where he could see them, and that he hadn’t missed anything obvious.
The barn was well lit but looked dark when he stepped in from the bright sunshine. The ever-present sound of traffic almost disappeared inside, and Dan found himself relaxing his shoulders. Until he noticed the look on Sally’s face, that is. ‘What is it, Sal?’ he asked.
She beckoned him to where she knelt at the side of a shallow pit in the furthest corner of the barn, and looked up at him. ‘See for yourself,’ she said.
Dan knelt, looked over the lip and into a wooden crate with slatted sides. Inside, nestled neatly in straw, were two skulls, each with a pile of what must be hand bones in the position where their ears would be. Dan met her eyes, and included Ben Bennett and the PCs in his gaze. ‘Sick bastard,’ he breathed. ‘He kept these as trophies.’
‘Yes, sir,’ agreed Bennett. ‘And he’s got their passports, too.’ He lifted one skull with care, revealing a passport underneath. ‘So he could identify who was who,’ he added, returning the skull to its position.
‘There are more items in the crate,’ said Sally, ‘perhaps relating to other incidents. We’ll wait until Dr Fox has been and removed the bones, then we can bring the rest of the evidence back with us.’
Death on Dartmoor Page 26
