by Jan Newton
‘Oh no, Ardal. We haven’t told him that Sean’s safe. I’ll phone him, Sir, shall I?’ Julie said.
‘Do that, and then we’ll get back to our guests downstairs. Maybe Morgan would like to come and help me finish off the interview with James Pritchard?’
Morgan smiled, and followed Swift from the room. Julie grinned. If only he wasn’t so ruddy prickly, Morgan would be a completely different person. Her phone was ringing. It was Brian Hughes from the front desk.
‘I’ve had a message just now from Mrs Wilkinson about Mick. She said to say he’s fine, the doctor hadn’t spotted that Mick had nicked a blood vessel but he’s sorted now and will be back home tomorrow. Apparently he’s keen to do everything he can. She says to say thank you, and that you must have made an impression on him, Sergeant.’ Julie could hear the question in his voice.
‘Long story, Brian. Let’s just say he was a lot more forthcoming than we’d imagined. Thank God.’
She dialled Ardal’s number. This one hadn’t done quite so well in that department, had he?
‘It’s Julie Kite, Mid Wales Police.’
‘Ah, right.’
‘So I don’t suppose you’ll have heard the news about what happened to Jason Quigley?’
‘I haven’t. I truly hope it’s something absolutely horrible.’
‘It is, Ardal. Like you wouldn’t believe. Jason Quigley has been murdered in a particularly gruesome manner.’
She could almost hear a smile spreading over Ardal’s face. ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard for a very long time. What a pity someone didn’t do that to him years ago, before he murdered my sister.’
‘We’re still investigating Rosa’s death, Ardal. I can’t talk to you about that. What I really want to know is was Lizzie in her cottage in the Elan Valley when you went calling?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You said you were looking for Rosa – Caroline. You didn’t mention that you’d found the cottage where her neighbour was staying with Sean.’
‘I must have mentioned it.’
‘Was she there when you paid a visit?’ There was a pause. She could hear Ardal’s brain working. ‘Was Lizzie at home when you went to her cottage? You were seen, Ardal.’
‘No, all right. She was out.’
‘And did you know she was out when you went inside?’
‘I didn’t go inside. I knocked on the door and there was no reply.’
‘Again, you were seen, Ardal, coming out of the cottage. Was it just the once you were there?’
‘Yes. I came home the following day.’
‘So did you get up to your little party piece while you were in there?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What were you looking for, Ardal?’
‘I told you, I was looking for Sean.’
‘The information we have says that you waited until the cottage was empty before you went in. You must have seen Lizzie leaving with Sean.’
‘I didn’t want to scare her off.’
‘So what were you looking for? I thought you said you wanted to find Sean.’
‘I was trying to be too clever about it, Sergeant. I thought she might be trying to take Sean out of the country, out of Quigley’s way, or for her own reasons, who knows. I certainly don’t any more.’
‘And?’
‘I was looking for travel documents, passports. Anything that would tell me what she was planning to do with Sean, and when. She couldn’t be planning to live there forever, could she? I couldn’t just steal Sean from her, could I?’
‘So what were you planning to do?’
‘I thought if I could work it all out, I could persuade the police to be there, to catch her in the act.’
‘It doesn’t work like it does on television, Ardal. The chances of that happening would have been slim.’
‘I know that now. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘Burglary is an offence, Ardal. You seem to be making a habit of it.’
‘I didn’t do any damage.’
‘Ardal, you made a statement to Lancashire Police which was blatantly untrue.’
‘It wasn’t untrue. I just didn’t mention the fact that I went to the cottage. I didn’t find Rosa, which is exactly what I said.’
‘What did you take from the cottage, Ardal.’
‘I didn’t take anything, Sergeant.’
‘So you didn’t find passports or travel documents?’
‘No, Sergeant, I didn’t.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ Julie said. ‘Now, do you want to hear some good news?’
*
James Pritchard looked terrible. What would he look like after a few years behind bars, wondered Swift. Poor sod. If he hadn’t got involved with Lizzie Slaithwaite, then none of this would have happened. He’d still be living in his nice Victorian house with his doting wife, and his grown up kids pitching up for Christmas dinner and birthday lunches, blissfully unaware of the scheming woman from Blackpool.
‘Mr Pritchard, you are still under caution, do you understand?’ Pritchard nodded. He didn’t look at Swift. ‘We know that you did not murder Jason Quigley. We also know that it’s unlikely that you murdered Rosa Quigley. Is there anything you can tell us about that?’
Pritchard looked up at the solicitor and then at the two officers. ‘I didn’t murder anyone, Inspector.’
‘So why did you confess to the murder of Jason Quigley, Mr Pritchard?’
‘For Lizzie. I thought I could protect Lizzie and Sean. The boy deserves a decent life.’
‘And now that you know that Lizzie isn’t your daughter?’
Pritchard nodded. ‘I wish to God I’d known that before. But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it, Inspector? That woman is evil. I want nothing more to do with her. I can’t think how I ended up in this wretched situation. I’m usually far too sensible for my own good.’ Pritchard attempted a smile. ‘Conservative, my wife calls me. What she means is, I’m bloody boring.’
‘How did Lizzie contact you in the first instance?’ Morgan asked.
‘She wrote to me. This was a few months before she left Blackpool with the boy. She sent a letter to my office.’
‘How did she find out where you worked?’ Swift said. ‘Was she stalking you?’
‘I have absolutely no idea.’
‘So how did Lizzie get in touch with you?’ Swift asked.
‘Through one of those business link sites. I’m pretty useless at it, but I was looking for a new job and Marilyn said it would be a good way of making new contacts.’ Pritchard closed his eyes. ‘How is Marilyn, Inspector?’
Swift stared at him. ‘She’s in an induced coma, which they hope will allow the swelling in her brain to reduce. The doctors tell us the next twenty-four hours will be critical.’
‘I don’t suppose I would be allowed…’
‘You want to see her?’ Swift’s expression was softening.
‘Would it be possible?’
Swift cleared his throat. ‘Well, we may be able to organise something. In the circumstances.’
Pritchard looked up at the ceiling and blinked back tears, before holding out his hand to Swift, who shook it.
‘Yes, well, when did Lizzie tell you she was your daughter?’ Swift removed his hand from Pritchard’s grasp and tugged his ear.
‘Straight away. She said she thought we ought to meet. I was a bit reticent. I thought she might have been a scammer or whatever they’re called.’
‘But you agreed?’ Swift asked.
Pritchard looked up at the ceiling again, and then down at his hands. ‘She said she would tell my wife we were having an affair if I didn’t meet her.’
‘And alarm bells didn’t start ringing?’ Morgan looked at Pritchard as though he were quite mad. Swift coughed and Morgan rearranged his features.
‘Some of us aren’t quite so clued up about social media, Constable. I panicked. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to meet the woman and tell her
to leave me alone.’
‘What happened when you met her?’ Swift asked.
‘She told me her mother had been looking for me. That she had died of a broken heart. She said all her mother had ever wanted to do was to find me and that there was no doubt that she was my daughter and she had paperwork to prove it.’
‘And did she have paperwork?’
Pritchard nodded. ‘She showed me a birth certificate which named me as the father.’
‘I don’t suppose you checked up on it at all?’ Morgan was trying his best to keep his tone of voice neutral.
‘Not at the time.’
‘But you’ve checked since?’ Swift asked.
‘I was going to do it when I got back to Bryn Awel, but I didn’t get round to it, in the circumstances. I’m guessing you must already know that there’s no record of the birth with me as the father.’
Swift nodded. ‘So you never confronted her, or asked her for proper proof?’
‘I didn’t.’
Morgan shook his head, but kept quiet at a warning sideways stare from Swift.
‘So how long do you think you would have stayed with her, Mr Pritchard?’ Swift asked.
‘Honestly? I have absolutely no idea. I was getting to the point where I had to get away from her. She is so totally controlling. And the boy – I was never very good at kids, Marilyn dealt with all that, but he’s something else. He never stops crying and yelling. I’m way too old for all that.’
‘Why didn’t you just leave? Why did you stay with her?’ Morgan asked.
‘I felt responsible. She’d persuaded me I owed her.’
‘And the cottage, did you buy the cottage for her?’
‘Yes, Inspector, I bought the cottage.’
‘And that’s why you consolidated your assets.’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you still own the cottage?’ Swift asked.
Pritchard exhaled slowly and deeply. ‘No. I transferred it into Lizzie’s name.’
‘She asked you to?’ Morgan asked. Pritchard nodded. ‘The most worrying thing, as far as we’re concerned, is that you moved Rosa’s body. Where was she originally, when you found her?’
‘Not far from the gate.’
‘The gate at the cottage?’
Pritchard nodded.
‘For the tape, please, Mr Pritchard,’ Morgan said.
‘Yes, the gate at the cottage.’
‘Where exactly was she?’ Swift said.
‘Four or five yards away, if that.’
‘And you just took it upon yourself to move her? You told us earlier that Lizzie was in the cottage. So there was no discussion with her about whether to move Rosa or not?’
Pritchard looked weary. He folded his arms and lowered his chin onto his chest like a small boy who had been ticked off by his teacher. ‘I wanted to phone you. I did dial 999 on my mobile and then Lizzie came screeching out of the house like a wailing bloody banshee and stamped on my phone.’
‘She smashed your phone?’ Morgan asked. ‘What did you do?’
‘I didn’t get much of a chance to do anything. Lizzie demanded I move the body. She told me it was Rosa, that Rosa was Sean’s mother and that Quigley must be following her. She said if Quigley found her and Sean, the same thing would happen to them.’
‘And you –?’ Morgan’s question and his incredulous expression were cut short by Pritchard’s shout.
‘Yes, I bloody well did believe her. She had me terrified of my own shadow. Can you believe I used to sit crouched in the back seat of the car for ten minutes when I got back from going anywhere and parked in that lane below the cottage, just to make sure nobody had followed me? I was that stupid.’
‘Lizzie must have been very persuasive,’ Swift said, his voice visibly soothing Pritchard’s ruffled feathers.
There was a knock at the door and Swift motioned for Morgan to answer it. A muffled conversation followed, then Morgan sat back down.
‘It seems Lizzie Slaithwaite had made plans for all of this long before she ever contacted you, Mr Pritchard. She stopped financing her florist business last August, without telling her husband or the people who worked for her.’
Swift’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Did you know anything about this, Mr Pritchard?’
‘No I did not. What a scheming, conniving, bad-minded, manipulative bitch she is.’
Swift suppressed a smile. At last, some backbone.
‘You will definitely be charged with your part in moving the body, Mr Pritchard. It will depend on the Crown Prosecution Service whether there will be any charges relating to the murders. I assume you will be wanting to withdraw your confession?’
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Day Eight
‘What will happen to Sean?’ Tears coursed down Lizzie Slaithwaite’s cheeks, gathering on her chin and plinking onto the table. Julie still couldn’t decide whether she was a very good actress or whether she really wasn’t totally sane.
‘We don’t know yet what will happen to Sean. He is being looked after by social services. As you are neither parent nor guardian, I’m afraid we are unable to tell you any more about his care.’
‘You bitch. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I’ve looked after that child almost all of his life. That no-good mother of his was always off her head on smack, coke, legal highs, whatever she could get her grubby little hands on. She was no bloody use at all. She shouldn’t have been allowed to have a child in the first place.’
‘Was that what this was all about, Lizzie? You saw the boy living in what you considered to be an unsuitable home and decided you would take him for yourself?’ Julie stared hard at Lizzie, who was easily a match for her.
‘Those two were scum. They gave up any rights to him the day I found them both crashed out in the garden, off their heads. Sean was inches from a lit barbecue. They’d left him strapped in a high chair next to an open fire and then shot up with God knows what. It was criminal negligence.’
‘And you couldn’t have children of your own?’ Julie took no pleasure in this question, but Lizzie had made no allowances.
‘Have you got children, Sergeant? Do you know what it’s like to try for months, years to get pregnant? There was no justice in it. They had a gorgeous baby boy and half the time they didn’t even know he was there. And then there was me, watching the sparkle go out of his eyes with the treatment they doled out.’
‘We know you lured James Pritchard, blackmailed him to look after the two of you, or you would have told his wife you were having an affair. Did you think he really was your father?’
‘Of course I did. Why would my mother lie to me?’
‘We only have your word for that of course. Although you did lie about your age to Mr Pritchard, didn’t you?’ Julie ignored Lizzie’s smirk. ‘And a colleague of mine has been very thorough in his searches,’ Julie said.
‘I’m so pleased for him.’
‘He tells me that the Lancashire Evening Post is a mine of useful information.’ Lizzie’s smug smile faded, but she said nothing. Julie unfolded a sheet of A3 paper. ‘He’s found an edition dated 1998. This is a photocopy. It concerns the tragic death of the entire crew of a fishing trawler, off the coast of Fleetwood. Among the crew was a man called Eifion Jenkins.’
‘What do you want me to say?’ Lizzie was petulant now, rocking her chair to and fro.
‘Eifion Jenkins was your father, Lizzie.’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘You must be mistaken, Sergeant.’
‘But you persuaded James Pritchard that he was your father. You made him buy you a property to hide out in, made him give up his job to keep guard for you, when all the time you were pulling everyone’s strings.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You intended to take Sean abroad, didn’t you?’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘Did I?’
‘Had you got this all mapped out before you even contacted James Pritchard?’
Lizzie shrugged again and a slow smile crossed her fa
ce. ‘You don’t know anything, do you?’
‘And the map of Blackpool, with Rosa’s house circled. You put that in her bag, didn’t you? It was important that we found out who she was, so that we would know Sean’s parents were dead. If anyone ever traced you, that is. Was that it? Was it just a game?’
Lizzie said nothing, just held the sarcastic smile.
‘What about your husband? You left him without telling him where you were and just disappeared into the Welsh countryside with a kidnapped child and no intention of ever contacting him again.’ Swift was as disapproving as Julie had ever seen him.
‘John’s a nice man. He loves his work and he’s very good at it. But he didn’t understand.’ The smile was gone.
