These Little Lies

by GRETTA MULROONEY

  ‘I know this place. Kids used to come here to swim. There’s a lane up there off Hardwater Road leading down to this sneaky way in.’ She saw herself at fifteen-ish, on the back of a scooter on a summer’s evening, necking beer passed to her by the boy who was driving. Beer by the Bere, she’d laughed. Her father thought she was doing homework at a friend’s. What a habitual liar she’d been. Although, to be fair, not as brass-necked as Rikka. Rik lied about everything, almost as a matter of principle. What do you expect? she’d ask if challenged. I’ve come from a broken home, I’m a damaged child. On that evening, Siv had worn her swimsuit under her skirt. What was the boy’s name? It was gone. Like that carefree evening.

  Ali had his hands in his pockets and was leaning slightly backwards. ‘You from round here then? I thought you were from London.’

  ‘I moved here from London to live with my dad when I was in my teens.’

  ‘Wow, that must have been a culture shock.’

  He had a scrubby beard, as if someone had doodled on his chin with charcoal. She wondered if it was deliberate or he hadn’t had time to shave. It went with his thrown-together look. ‘For a while. But it’s a lively town. There were compensations.’ Including not having to live with her mother’s foibles, getting regular meals and staying in one school for more than five minutes. ‘What about you — when did you arrive?’

  Ali feigned shock. ‘You guessed I’m not local?’

  ‘Yep. Powers of deduction.’

  ‘I moved when I got wed. My wife’s from here. I’m from Derry. Drummond’s a Scottish name, isn’t it?’

  If you were Northern Irish, names carried a huge significance. One of her early boyfriends in London had been from Belfast. He’d explained how your name denoted religious and home background and often political outlook. She wondered if the time would ever come when that no longer applied and thought that Ali must have had an interesting time growing up as a mixed-race boy in that community. ‘My great-grandad was from Edinburgh. Let’s walk on up.’

  Along the overgrown lane birds were busy, wheeling in the sun and singing loudly. There was a rich, earthy smell. Better than blood mingled with aftershave.

  Siv nodded. ‘This is as I remember it. You come on the back road out of town. I’ve swum in that bit of the river and over to the little island.’ She didn’t add that it had been a group of them skinny-dipping in the baking heat of a summer holiday. There’d been a lot of teenage fumbling and used condoms on that island.

  Ali scratched between the greying cornrows at the back of his head. ‘Has the town changed much since you were last here?’

  ‘I’m still deciding. Yes and no. Definitely on the outskirts. There are new housing estates where there used to be fields and that huge new shopping mall, Bere Place. The centre of town looks the same, apart from a vape shop by the Guildhall, where there was a gentleman’s outfitters. It was called Berminster Beau and had a dummy in the window in evening dress. One of my friends had a Saturday job there and every week he’d make an alteration to the dummy, like putting a rubber glove on one hand, or sticking on a monocle or false moustache or lipstick. I’d loiter outside in the afternoon, to have a laugh at his sabotage.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m reassured to hear you were a teenager with nothing better to do.’

  ‘Oh yes, I liked a bit of anarchy. Maidwell estate is still the crime pocket it used to be?’

  ‘Correct,’ he said. ‘We’re up there most days.’

  ‘I had a teacher who rented there temporarily when she moved to town. She went home to find all her clothes had been nicked from her washing line.’

  ‘I’m surprised they left the line.’

  Siv laughed. ‘Okay, let’s talk to Mr Vine.’

  As they walked back, more memories came to her — smoking dope in the bushes around here and getting very drunk on cheap wine. Had Rikka been there? Possibly, although being older, she’d usually kept different company or hung out on her own in her bedroom. Siv realized she had no idea what her sister had been doing most of the time after the move to Berminster. Their lives had touched only at meals or passing on the stairs. They’d both been impossible teenagers, used to doing whatever they liked with almost no parental controls. Their father hadn’t known what to do when they landed on him. They’d run rings around him. The poor man had assumed a mystified look that he wore to the day he died.

  Ali was talking about the lack of staff at the station, the amount of overtime he’d done this month and the best places for a snack and a drink in the evenings. Siv let his voice wash over her, feeling oddly content despite the grim scene among the trees. There were two dead people with stories to be unpicked, a killer traced. This could be complex. She could feel the old familiar spark of curiosity and energy. Another tick in the progress box.

  As they walked to the car park, Wooton passed them and gestured with his thumb to the tents. ‘You had a double murder before?’

  ‘No. With any luck there’ll be a connection between our two victims. Have you?’

  ‘No. The wild swimmer and the Lithuanian. Interesting.’

  ‘Sounds like the title of an art house film,’ she said. ‘Something French and incomprehensible.’

  He almost smiled.

  Chapter Four

  Alan Vine was a narrow, angular man, hunched in the seat. Siv sat beside him, guessing he was in his early eighties. She made the introductions, turning her body slightly towards him, and he twitched as she did so. He smelled fusty although his clothes were smart — an olive waxed jacket, a tie with a pattern of tiny world flags, smart dark green cords and peak cap.

  ‘Thank you for waiting, Mr Vine. Investigations always take time.’

  ‘I had no choice. This is dreadful, what’s happened. I don’t know what our members will make of it. We have a good reputation and something like this . . . well, it’s extremely unpleasant.’ His nostrils flared indignantly.

  ‘Yes, it certainly is, and particularly for the dead victims of such a vicious attack. I understand you’re the membership secretary of Berminster Anglers?’

  ‘That’s right. I’ve been the secretary for twenty-odd years. It’s a very responsible post. I take my duties most seriously and carry them out to the best of my no doubt limited abilities. I believe that the club in general and the chairman in particular find my efforts satisfactory.’

  He sounded as if he was being interviewed for a job.

  ‘I’m sure. Can you tell me what happened this morning, Mr Vine? Start from when you got here.’

  ‘But I’ve already told your constable, and in complete and considerable detail! I saw him writing things down, just as your sergeant is doing now.’

  ‘I know, but now you need to tell me. Why were you here? Did you come to fish?’

  ‘Of course not!’ he said indignantly, rearing backwards as if she’d insulted him.

  ‘Why “of course not?” This is an angling club, by a river.’

  He blinked and cradled the water bottle he’d been given. It was sparkling water, the bubbles dancing on the surface. ‘It’s the close season, officer, and unlike those foreign gentlemen who flout our rules, I’m a responsible angler. As are all the paid-up members of our association. I come here every day to check on things.’

  ‘What’s the close season?’

  He stared at her as if she was being deliberately dense. ‘What do they teach at school these days?’ he asked.

  Siv was aware of Ali ducking his head to cover a grin. ‘It’s a while since I was at school and fishing wasn’t on my curriculum. Please explain.’

  He shook his head. ‘The close season runs from March fifteenth to June fifteenth. There’s a prohibition on fishing in the river between those dates. Anglers — responsible anglers — don’t fish. The three-month season is there to protect coarse fish when they’re spawning. It gives them a chance to replenish.’

  ‘Are carp coarse fish?’

  ‘They most certainly are, officer.’

  ‘Okay. S
o, what time did you arrive? Take me from there.’

  ‘I parked here just on ten past eight. The news headlines were ending.’

  ‘Did you see any other vehicles on the road as you were driving here, or any pedestrians?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Not along Lock Lane, no. There were cars on Minster Road, before the turnoff. That’s a school run along there, it gets very busy. I can’t understand why young mothers these days have to drive these huge vehicles. More like tanks than cars. I can tell you, it’s always a relief when it’s school holidays — takes me half the time to get here then.’

  ‘Was the Seat in the car park when you drove in?’

  ‘Yes, and I was annoyed because I thought it was one of those Poles. That’s why I was here checking. They come and fish, especially for carp, completely flouting the rules,’ he repeated. ‘They don’t pay for licences like the rest of us. There are good reasons for the regulations we have. I’ve given several of them their marching orders but they keep coming back. They ignore the notice, which states quite clearly that they’re not allowed in here. They really have no—’

  ‘Yes, yes, I see. And there was no other car here?’

  ‘No. As I’ve already told your constable.’

  ‘So you left your car parked. Then what?’

  ‘I went down the path to the river, ready to give a bare-faced Pole or one of those other ne’er-do-wells a piece of my mind. But before I got there, I saw the man on the ground, by the trees. I thought maybe he’d collapsed so I hurried over. As soon as I got near him, I could see . . .’ Vine swallowed. ‘I could see that he was all bloody. That he’d been attacked.’ Vine undid the top of the water bottle. He took a sip, spilling some on his chin as it fizzed up.

  ‘I know you’ve had a difficult time, Mr Vine. This is very helpful.’

  He glared at her. ‘I’m no “snowflake” or whatever they call it these days, officer. I’m made of sterner stuff than all that. I don’t keel over as soon as things get difficult. I hope I know my duty as a citizen.’

  ‘Of course. When did you see the other body?’

  ‘I bent over for a minute to clear my head. I have angina and I do have to be careful. Then I saw the woman in the wetsuit, lying there looking terrible. My heavens! I could scarcely believe my eyes. This is such a peaceful place, quiet. A place to forget your worries and relax. We’ve never had a crime here — well, not until these foreigners showed up and started all their nonsense. If I had my way—’

  ‘Mr Vine, did you touch either of the bodies at all?’

  ‘Certainly not, officer. I knew better than to do that. I was in Kenya just after the Mau Mau rebellion. I’ve seen blood and corpses, plenty of them. Once there was a stack of them piled high with the flies feasting on them. Enough to turn your stomach, I can tell you. The Mau Mau gave no quarter. I know a dead person when I see one, and I knew they were both dead. I called the police immediately.’

  ‘What did you do then?’

  ‘I did as I was told. Followed orders. That’s why we have rules, isn’t it? To keep things orderly and make sure things happen as they should. I stayed where I was and waited.’

  ‘You saw no one else?’

  ‘No. I wouldn’t expect to.’

  ‘Because it’s close season,’ Ali confirmed.

  ‘Correct. Although there’s a lot of debate about whether or not a close season is really needed. Some scientists are saying that it doesn’t really make much difference to stocks and a lot of anglers have been petitioning the government—’

  ‘Yes, quite, Mr Vine.’ Siv watched him closely as she asked the next question. ‘Do you think you’d seen either of those people before?’

  He shook his head resolutely. ‘No.’

  ‘Did you see what had been left on the woman’s chest?’

  ‘Not up close. It looked like a photo.’

  Siv tapped her phone and showed him the photo. ‘Do you recognize this child? Have you ever seen her around here?’

  He tilted his head back and squinted. ‘I don’t. Don’t know her. Never seen her. We don’t like children coming here. In fact, we discourage it. We don’t mind members bringing their children for the odd visit, as long as they’re well behaved. We just don’t want any noise and nuisance. There are plenty of parks for little girls like her. That’s if I’m allowed to assume it’s a her, what with all this transgender nonsense or whatever. I don’t even understand it, all this confusion about men and women. It’s been getting in a terrible muddle. When I was young, you knew a boy was a boy and a girl was a girl.’

  Give me strength. Siv tried hard not to roll her eyes. Next thing, Vine would be saying that they should bring back National Service, the birch and hanging too. She shot a look at Ali.

  He scratched his excuse for a beard and cleared his throat. ‘The wetsuit the woman was wearing indicates that she was swimming in the river. Is that permitted here?’

  Vine pulled a face. ‘You wouldn’t need a permit, if that’s what you’re asking. Technically she was trespassing. Common courtesy would indicate that you should contact the association to inform them and ask if there were any objections. And of course, if there were any members fishing, they wouldn’t want a swimmer agitating the fish. But alas, common courtesy seems to have been forgotten these days.’

  ‘Have you seen other wild swimmers here at any other time?’

  ‘No. Wild swimming! When I was a youngster, you just called it swimming. And what’s wrong with a pool? There’s a state-of-the-art one in town; cost millions to build, and out of taxpayers’ money. That’s good enough for most people hereabouts. I don’t know why anyone would want to swim in a river.’

  ‘Different experience,’ Ali said. ‘How do you know you didn’t recognize the man?’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘He’s lying face down.’

  ‘Well . . . I suppose I can’t be absolutely sure, officer, because of course you’re correct, I didn’t see his face. But no one who fishes here with a permit dresses like that — an old anorak, dirty jeans and cheap trainers. It’s the sort of stuff the trespassers wear. Is he Polish?’

  ‘We can’t talk about that, Mr Vine,’ Siv told him. ‘You need to tell your members that the area will be off limits for now, close season or not. We’ll let you know when you can access it again.’

  ‘How long will it be closed for?’

  ‘I can’t say right now.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have to contact the owner of the land straight away and let him know.’

  ‘Who is the owner?’

  ‘Nick Shelton. He’s the owner and the chairman of the association. This closure business is very annoying.’

  ‘I suppose the two dead people might be a tad annoyed too, if they could feel anything right now,’ Siv said sharply.

  He reddened. ‘I didn’t mean to—’

  ‘How many members do you have?’

  ‘Well . . . let’s see . . . at least thirty.’

  She gave a silent groan. ‘I’ll need you to provide us with a list. Can you email it to us today?’

  ‘I’ll ask Mr Shelton to do that. I don’t get on with computers.’

  ‘We’ll contact him. Did you know that there’s access to the river from another path that leads up to Hardwater Road?’

  ‘Oh yes. We’ve been arguing to get that closed off for a long time but the council won’t agree. Claptrap about public access to woodland. I’ve lost count of the number of letters we’ve sent about it. Mr Shelton even went to a council meeting but he couldn’t get anywhere. Got shouted down by a bunch of do-gooders. I know that’s where the Poles get in, but you can’t get anywhere with the bureaucrats. We can’t put a sign up there because it’s not Mr Shelton’s land, despite the fact that—’

  Siv cut across him. ‘Has anyone told you your sign is unlawful? It’s illegal to discriminate against anyone, including eastern Europeans. It’s offensive at the very least.’

  Vine bridled. ‘No, I can’t say that an
yone has. As I’ve explained, this is private land, officer.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. You can point out that it’s private and say that trespassers will be reported. Then you should do so, and let the police deal with it.’

  ‘As if you lot have got time to deal with stuff like that! You’re hard pressed enough. When my neighbour had his car stolen it took ages for any of you to turn up, and even then you were about as much use as a bucket with a hole in.’

  ‘I think you should take note of what I’ve told you.’

  He touched the knot of his tie. ‘Well, that would be a matter for Nick Shelton, not me. He put the sign up. But I’d have thought you’d have quite enough to concern yourself with, with those two dead people in there, instead of bothering about some politically correct twaddle. Yes, shouldn’t you be concentrating on finding their killer?’

  Siv looked at him steadily. ‘I’ll let that go for now, Mr Vine. You’ve had a nasty shock.’

  He put his hand on the door handle. ‘Can I go home now? I need to walk my dog, although quite frankly, I’m not sure I’m up to it after all this palaver.’

  The two deaths were just a nuisance as far as he was concerned. ‘Not just yet. You can talk to Mr Shelton about finding the bodies but I don’t want you to give anyone any details about what you’ve seen here this morning, and you’re not to mention the child’s photo. DS Carlin here will arrange for you to give a formal statement. For now, you’ll have to be taken to the police station. We need your clothes for forensic testing and we also need a DNA sample from you, just in case any of yours is found at the scene. Do you understand?’

  ‘You what? My clothes? This is a very expensive jacket, Barbour. I’m not letting you lot mess around with it.’

  ‘We’ll be very careful with it. We need it to rule you out of the investigation.’

  ‘It’s the rules,’ Ali said meaningfully. ‘I’m sure you’d want us to do everything by the book, Mr Vine.’

  He bristled but nodded. ‘Yes. Understood.’

  ‘Right,’ Siv said. ‘We’ll get you to the station.’