Rather to Be Pitied

by Jan Newton

  ‘Probably just didn’t want him running onto the road.’

  ‘Mmm. Maybe.’ Julie glanced over her shoulder one last time before they turned the corner. Mrs Pritchard was still there, watching.

  They were almost back at the car when Julie’s mobile rang. It was Swift.

  ‘Are you still in Llandod?’

  ‘Yes, why, what’s up?’

  ‘Can you get yourselves up to the Elan Valley?’

  ‘Now, Sir?’

  ‘As soon as you can. I’ve just had a cryptic phone call from Mal.’

  ‘That sounds intriguing.’

  ‘It is. He says he’s found something unexpected in his cess pit.’

  ‘Oh God, that’s all I need. Is that something connected with Rosa’s death?

  ‘I would say that’s probably highly likely.’ Swift cleared his throat. ‘I’ve asked Dr Greenhalgh to get there as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘Ah, are we talking another body here, do you think?’

  ‘That was my first thought from Mal’s painstaking technicolour description.’

  Julie grimaced. ‘Understood, Sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Julie. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  *

  The tractor was parked in the centre of the yard, its bucket at just above head height. Between the large oblong teeth, an arm dangled. What skin was visible appeared discoloured and was covered in small amounts of what Morgan referred to in his notebook as ‘matter’. As they crossed the yard, Julie could hear the low rumble of Dr Greenhalgh’s Alfa, which slowed only to rattle across the cattle grid before speeding into the yard and stopping in a cloud of dust.

  ‘I didn’t know what to do with it.’ Mal was standing beside the tractor, his cap in his hands. I thought it would be better to bring it down here, but I left the bucket as it was. I didn’t want to dislodge anything.’

  ‘Quite right.’ Kay Greenhalgh nodded her approval. ‘I wonder if you would be kind enough to lower the bucket for me, so I can see exactly what I’m dealing with.’

  Mal climbed into the tractor and started the engine. He lowered the bucket very gently. Even so, foul-smelling fluid slopped onto the concrete, forming puddles from the dark splashes. He switched off the engine but it was several moments before he climbed down from the cab.

  ‘Is he dead?’ he asked Dr Greenhalgh, who by now was clad in a white paper suit, blue overshoes, gloves and a mask. She nodded.

  ‘Very definitely. And from the state of him, I’d say he’s been in there a few days, at least.’ She leaned forward to get a better look and Morgan retched. ‘Are you all right there, Constable?’

  Morgan nodded. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No need to apologise. He is particularly fragrant, I’ll grant you that.’ She turned to Mal. ‘Now, could you tell me exactly how you found him?’

  ‘I was digging out the pit, see. It all gets a bit backed up so I went and gave it a bit of a poke. He was my second bucketful. I didn’t even notice him until that arm flopped over the edge of the bucket. It gave me a bit of a moment, it did.’

  ‘I can imagine. And how often do you have to poke your cess pit?’

  ‘Just now and again.’

  ‘So, you’ve no idea how long he’s been in there?’

  Mal shook his head.

  ‘Could it have been accidental?’ Julie asked. ‘Could he just have fallen in?’

  ‘Well,’ Dr Greenhalgh lifted the end of a thick piece of twine and held it aloft, ‘it’s possible. I’d have said that this might have made him more than a little unsteady on his feet.’

  ‘Ah,’ Morgan said. ‘So he was strangled?’

  ‘He’s been garrotted. The twine is attached to this piece of excruciatingly sharp wire. I’ve never seen anything quite so vicious. It’s a wonder his head’s still attached. See here, where it’s sliced through his windpipe.’

  Morgan had the good sense to move away before revisiting his breakfast.

  ‘So it’s not suicide then?’ Julie asked.

  ‘Oh hilarious, Sergeant. No, definitely not suicide. I can’t give you any timings yet, because of the increased temperature brewing in the cess pit, but I’d be surprised if he hadn’t been here for about five days or so.’

  ‘Anything else you can tell us?’

  ‘I’d say he must have been killed here, rather than just dumped.’

  Morgan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Well, he couldn’t have walked here, could he, not with that neck wound.’ She pointed down at the dark stains on skin and clothing, still visible despite their immersion in the fetid liquid of the cess pit.

  ‘He could have been carried, though, couldn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t see how you could do that successfully.’ Dr Greenhalgh traced the wire round to the right hand side of the corpse’s head with a single finger. ‘Not without the head becoming detached.’ There was a squelching sound as the head moved away from the neck under the slight pressure, breaking the temporary seal.

  Julie tried not to smile as Morgan once more departed across the concrete. Poor Morgan. He really wasn’t cut out for the visceral side of policing. ‘Any clues as to who he is, Kay?’

  Dr Greenhalgh shook her head. ‘I’d rather get him back to the table before I start rummaging for ID. Everything’s a bit precarious, but I’ll get onto it as soon as I get him back to the office.’

  *

  It took more than three hours before Kay Greenhalgh was satisfied with her notes. Julie took photographs and made her own notes for Swift. Where was he? This was so unlike him.

  ‘It looks as though his transport’s arrived,’ Julie said. A large black van with tinted windows slid into the yard and three dark-suited men sloped out. If they were concerned at the heinous state of their client, it didn’t show as they worked silently and methodically, aided by the three Scene of Crime officers.

  The van had already left by the time Swift arrived. Dr Greenhalgh was back in civvies and getting into her car. When she saw him she climbed out again. ‘Craig! Where the hell have you been? You’ve been hours. You’ve missed all the action.’

  Swift wrinkled his nose, looked at the digger and the latest pile of vomit, which Sarah was scrubbing with the aid of a yard brush and hose, and nodded. ‘Thank heaven for small mercies then, is it, Doctor?’

  ‘Are you alright? It’s not like you to be late to an investigation. I know you always like to see the deceased in situ.’

  Swift glanced at her. ‘I had an urgent appointment. It took longer than expected.’ He looked away, down the drive. ‘I might have to ask your professional advice at some point.’

  He stopped abruptly and turned away as Julie reached them.

  ‘Everything in hand, Sergeant?’

  ‘It is, Sir. We’ve got loads of videos and photographs.’ She showed Swift a photograph on her phone and he grimaced.

  Kay Greenhalgh twinkled at him. ‘You lads, you’ve no blinking stamina.’ She got back into her car and slid the window down. ‘Julie’s got everything under control, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can with first impressions.’ She put the car into gear. ‘Phone me,’ she said to Swift, then she whirled the Alfa round, waved and set off down the long drive like a guided missile.

  Swift watched her go, and turned to Julie. ‘Did she beat you to it?’

  ‘Not quite, but she wasn’t far behind us.’

  ‘It’s a wonder she’s not been banned. She was at the hospital when I phoned her. You must have had a twenty mile head start.’

  ‘Well fortunately, she does everything at top speed. She’s promised an update by the end of the afternoon.’

  ‘Do we know who he is?’

  ‘No. But I know who I think it might be.’

  ‘Quigley?’

  ‘He’d be top of my list, Sir.’

  ‘Mine too. What’s happened to Morgan?’

  ‘He’s getting cleaned up. He was a bit overwhelmed. Several times. To be fai
r, it was pretty gruesome.’

  ‘I think I’m glad I was late.’

  ‘Did you speak to Rosa’s parents, Sir?’

  Swift nodded. ‘They confirmed the ID beyond a shadow of a doubt from a scar on her knee. She fell off her bike on a gravel path after her dad decided it was time to take the stabilisers off.’ He looked away from her, up to the hill. ‘They’re absolutely destroyed by her death.’

  ‘Maybe they feel guilty?’

  ‘Maybe they do, Julie, but we don’t know what Rosa put them through, do we?’ Swift sighed. ‘Come on, let’s go and see what Mal and Sarah have to say.’

  Sarah was close to tears. She insisted on putting the kettle on and filling plates with food, but she was obviously very shaken. Julie helped her with mugs and teaspoons.

  ‘Thank you, cariad. I wouldn’t trust myself with the china, not today.’

  ‘Are you all right?

  ‘Do you know, I don’t think I am. How do you manage to do this every day?’

  ‘It’s not every day, Sarah, thank goodness. This sort of thing is pretty rare, even where I’m from.’ Julie took the teapot from her, which stopped the quiet rattling of its lid. ‘I don’t suppose you know who he is?’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t even recognise anyone you knew really well if they were in that condition, would you?’

  ‘Has there been anyone hanging round the farm in the past few days?’

  ‘Nobody. We had a new fish man come up the day before yesterday. He seemed very nice, but the freezer’s full of lamb, so we didn’t buy anything. Apart from him, the postman and the lads who come up to help with the sheep, there’s been nobody here.’

  Mal came in from the scullery, wiping his hands on a large loop of towelling, rubbing carefully between his fingers.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,’ he said. He put the towel on the side and lowered himself into a chair. ‘And I don’t ever want to see anything like it again.’

  ‘Was he floating in the pit?’ Swift asked. Sarah retreated to the sink and Julie went to stand with her.

  ‘He must have been. I hadn’t got very far, just scraping at the surface I was. I should have seen him.’ Mal rubbed his eyes. ‘Do you think I did him any damage?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt that he’d been dead for quite some time,’ Swift said.

  ‘Even so, I wouldn’t like to think I hurt him.’

  Swift put his hand on Mal’s arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘He was way past that.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Day Seven

  John and Lizzie Slaithwaite were sitting in reception when Julie, Morgan and Swift arrived back at the station. Lizzie looked far less fraught than she had been the previous evening, and fences were obviously in the process of being mended as the pair sat holding hands.

  ‘Love’s young dream,’ Brian Hughes said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I don’t know that I’d be so willing to forgive my wife if she’d run away for eight months.’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t notice.’ Julie grinned. ‘He seems to be a bit of a workaholic.’

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ Brian shook his head. ‘People never cease to amaze me. What time do you want them?’

  ‘Give us five minutes for a sandwich and a panad, and we’ll come and get them,’ Swift said. ‘They don’t look as though they’re in a rush.’

  Lizzie looked totally different today. Even John looked as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Would Lizzie be so relaxed if she had been involved in either of the deaths by the Monks’ Trod? As Julie approached, the Slaithwaites looked up in unison.

  ‘I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long,’ Julie said. ‘We were unavoidably detained.’

  John Slaithwaite laughed. ‘Makes a change for you to be the one being detained, I’d imagine.’

  Lizzie frowned. ‘You’ve read my statement?’ I thought it might save some time so we can finally get home.’ She looked at her husband. ‘John helped me.’

  ‘Thank you, that will be helpful,’ Julie said, ‘but we will still want to interview you, just to make sure we cover every eventuality.’ She smiled at John Slaithwaite. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand that we have to follow procedure.’

  ‘Of course, Sergeant, but Lizzie isn’t under arrest. Even the statement is above and beyond what she is actually required to provide.’

  ‘Mr Slaithwaite, we are as keen as you are to bring this matter to a speedy conclusion.’

  Slaithwaite offered a curt nod. ‘Don’t worry, Lizzie. Everything will be fine. If you want me to be with you, then I’m sure there will be no objections.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, John. I want to do this.’ Lizzie stood up and smiled down at her husband. ‘I’m sure they won’t keep me for long.’

  Swift was at his most reassuring, but Julie kept replaying the conversation on the doorstep of the cottage. Who else had been in the house? Where did they go? It was time to throw some doubt into the pleasant little chat between Lizzie and Swift.

  ‘So, Lizzie, you’ve told us that you kidnapped Sean.’

  ‘I didn’t kidnap him, Sergeant. Rosa asked me to get him away from Quigley.’

  ‘So you had her permission to take her child and bring him to Wales?’

  ‘Yes, I had her permission to take him. She begged me to take him.’

  ‘And did you have permission to bring him to Wales? Did she know where he was?’

  Lizzie looked down at the table. ‘No she didn’t. Not at first.’

  ‘So, how long was it before you let her know where her son was?’

  Lizzie looked at Swift, but he busied himself with her statement. She sighed. ‘You don’t understand what Quigley is like. He’s an animal. Rosa wouldn’t have asked me to get involved if she hadn’t been desperate.’

  ‘But you told her where you were eventually.’

  Lizzie nodded. ‘She kept texting me and leaving messages. I didn’t know if it really was her or Quigley using the phone so I didn’t dare reply. I thought it would be safer to write to her with the address. That way he wouldn’t necessarily have known anything about it.’

  ‘And how do you work that one out?’ Julie asked. ‘Exactly why would that have been any safer?’

  ‘I sent it to my own home address but with Rosa’s name on it. I knew John wouldn’t hand it to Quigley if it was addressed to her.’

  ‘So you wrote to her at your own address, knowing your husband would deliver it to her, but you didn’t have the decency to tell him where you were and what you were doing?’ Julie’s voice was rising and Swift interjected with a cough.

  ‘That was very clever of you, Lizzie.’ Swift tugged his ear. ‘But how could you make sure that Quigley wouldn’t find the letter once it was in Rosa’s possession?’

  ‘She wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave it lying around, would she? She was absolutely terrified he would find Sean.’

  ‘But someone did find it, Lizzie.’ Swift stared at her. ‘Someone who then tracked her down to the Elan Valley.’

  Lizzie’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  Julie relented. ‘We don’t know if that’s how Quigley knew where she was.’

  ‘What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that Quigley could have followed her?’ Lizzie was speaking quickly now, frantic to get her words out. ‘But just because you’re assuming that Rosa came here after she got my letter doesn’t make it true, does it?’

  ‘But we know she was here, Lizzie, that maybe she had come for Sean. And we know that at least one person worked out your location.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. She would have told me if she was planning to come. She didn’t come to the cottage, she didn’t even phone me for directions. There’s no way she would have found us.’ Lizzie was rocking now, very gently and rhythmically. ‘It’s not true.’

  ‘We’ve just received this from the police in Lancashire. Could you confirm whether this is Jason Quigl
ey?’ Julie slid a black and white photograph across the table. The name across the top was Donal Quinlan.

  Lizzie picked it up and frowned. ‘Yes. That’s Jason Quigley.’ She dropped the photograph onto the table. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Then we know that the man you know as Jason Quigley probably did know where both you and Sean were. We also believe that he may have brought Rosa with him to persuade you to hand over the child.’

  Swift turned to look at Julie but Julie’s gaze never wavered from Lizzie’s face.

  ‘Oh God, you’re really sure he’s here? I need to go.’ Lizzie darted out of her seat and was at the door before they could stop her.

  ‘Lizzie, we need to talk to you.’ Swift’s plea was met with a sneer.

  ‘And you can protect Sean from Quigley, can you?’