Trap Lane

by Stella Cameron

  Other shots, some large, some close-ups of details, were soon spread out. Dan moved their plates to a nearby empty table and the three men huddled together to look.

  Eventually Bill crossed his arms and said, ‘Impressive work with the original, but if this is a big reveal, I’m not getting it.’ For which Dan was grateful since he could merely appear impassive.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ LeJuan said meaningfully. ‘These don’t mean a thing to either of you. Look at the wall behind the man. Graffiti art. Brilliant graffiti art.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Dan commented.

  ‘Not on my garden walls,’ Bill added.

  LeJuan only grinned. ‘First, you don’t have a garden, so no garden walls. Second, these things are worth a chunk by some artists. More than a chunk. People used to pay this man a fortune to do one of these. And he didn’t just paint outside walls. He was in art galleries.’

  ‘Not the Louvre,’ Bill muttered.

  ‘Does the name Zack in connection with graffiti art – also called urban art or street art – mean anything to you?’

  Dan matched Bill’s negative shake of the head.

  ‘Well, that’s who he is. Zack – one name only. But there’s something else he’s more famous for. Real name, Scott Zachary Wilson. Ring any bells yet?’

  ‘He’s …’ Bill leaned farther forward and lowered his voice. ‘He murdered his parents in the Lake District? Windermere?’

  Now Dan remembered. He ought to. The case had been luridly reported in every gruesome detail, together with the killer’s attempt to flee followed by an ambush arrest in which a SWAT team member was badly wounded.

  They passed the photos between them and read notes about the process of the examination that had been done, together with a summary of the crime on another sheet of paper.

  ‘The big question is, what was it doing together with a picture of Hugh among our missing woman’s possessions – a woman we’re presuming is Sonia Quillam?’ Bill said.

  LeJuan propped his jaw on a hand. ‘We don’t know, but Zachary Wilson is in the same forensic psych facility as Elyan Quillam.’

  TWENTY-TWO

  Alex had driven from Folly to Broadway. She parked in the center of the village at Church Close, walked behind the Court Arcade shopping area and around the block to the Crown and Trumpet. Juste Vidal, helping out in the bar at the Black Dog, told her LeJuan had brought in some flyers and said that Bill might be late back to the inn because he was going to the Crown and Trumpet in Broadway.

  Each step took her closer until she paused at the path up to the open front door of the pub to take some calming breaths. A happy crowd filled wooden tables and benches in the forecourt – most enjoying an early-evening drink. Striped umbrellas were still up although the bright day had dimmed.

  The flyers had shown a good photo of Sonia above a plea for any information concerning her whereabouts. Alex’s stomach flipped, and flipped again. She hadn’t told any of the others what she was doing, but they had all thought Bill had to be told what they knew – even if it did not turn out to be helpful.

  ‘Hello, there, Alex.’ LeJuan startled her, striding from the pub, giving her one of his stunning smiles.

  Before she could reply, he added, ‘Doing a recce on the competition, or looking for my boss and his former boss?’

  Alex stood still, hands on hips. ‘And that’s why you’re a detective. It only took you two tries to solve the question. How are you, LeJuan?’ How long, she wondered, would it take to stop remembering the nickname Bill had used for his sergeant?

  He gave a so-so waggle of his left hand. ‘Good enough, I suppose. We have a fly or two in our ointment right now but I’ll save that for another time when we’re both really bored. Go straight in then turn left. They’re in a settle at the end. Backs to you.’

  Alex wasn’t surprised to find Dan with Bill. They were exactly where LeJuan had said she would find them. Bent forward, the two men were earnestly talking over several photographs spread on the table in front of them.

  Alex walked behind them to approach Bill. ‘Forgive me for interrupting,’ she said. ‘I tracked you down, Bill.’

  ‘Hello, there,’ Bill said, standing.

  Dan gathered the photos together and slipped them into a manila envelope. ‘Sit and join us,’ he said. ‘What can I get you to drink?’

  ‘Bitter lemon, please. I’m driving. I didn’t know you were into graffiti art.’

  Bill glanced back at the table. ‘Graffiti art?’

  ‘Wasn’t that a piece by Zack? He’s very distinctive.’

  ‘So LeJuan said. I wouldn’t have thought it was your kind of art,’ Dan said.

  ‘I was in art school. I became a graphic artist eventually and worked in advertising. That’s graphic, not graffiti.’ She grinned. ‘I can appreciate a lot of forms that are well done.’ Alex didn’t add that she and her ex-husband had owned a successful advertising business before their divorce.

  ‘You wanted to see me?’ Bill said.

  Dan left for the counter and Alex sat in a spindle chair with a comfortable tapestry cushion on its seat. ‘Yes, I do.’ She checked around. People seemed engrossed in their own conversations. ‘Perhaps I should wait until you’re on your own?’

  ‘You can talk freely with Dan here. He’s aware of the case. We talk.’

  She smiled again. ‘I’m glad you do. You were a great team, weren’t you?’

  ‘I like to think so.’ He took a swallow from his glass and crossed his arms.

  In the midst of a steady hum of voices, the two of them became an island of silence – Bill evidently deeply lost in thought. While he seemed distracted, Alex tried to organize what she should say and how. Somehow it would be easier if they were going to be alone.

  ‘Bitter lemon,’ Dan said, placing the glass in front of her and taking his seat again. When he looked at her, she felt a little sad. In a different time and place they might have been much more to one another.

  ‘This isn’t easy,’ she said. ‘You won’t be happy with everything I’ve got to say. I haven’t been as forthcoming as I should have been but I haven’t forgotten what you told me about the real meaning of loyalty, Bill, when I came to see you at the parish hall. Although I’m still not sure I’m comfortable with the possible answers.’

  He was alert now, focused on her – but not saying anything to ease her into the exchange.

  ‘This morning I went out for a drive with Hugh. We needed to clear the air. Up until now we’ve had a really good working relationship – and we’re friends – but it all changed after his cousin and the cousin’s wife showed up. And afterwards with what happened at Green Friday … and other things.’ She was afraid of saying more than was needed.

  ‘I’m glad you came,’ Bill said, but his body language let her know he was fully engaged and vigilant. ‘I’m going to take notes, but don’t let that disturb you.’

  It did disturb her, but she said nothing while he took notebook and pen from his inside jacket pocket.

  There was nothing she could explain about following Sergeant Miller to Burford and knowing she was after Hugh – nothing that would help.

  ‘In your own time,’ Bill said evenly.

  ‘Today. When we left the Black Dog, Hugh wanted to go up to Green Friday. I couldn’t understand why and said so. That almost ended the expedition, but he drove on and explained he wanted to check the house – unless it was still being kept off limits. The tapes were up but there wasn’t a policeman there.’

  Bill grunted and wrote while Dan’s face showed no reaction.

  ‘When we got to Green Friday, Annie’s Mini was parked on the far side of the turnaround.’ She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and waited, gauging how to go on.

  Both men looked at her. ‘Go on,’ Bill said.

  Alex drank some of her bitter lemon and coughed. More people were gradually filling tables and she was relieved. The activity blunted a sensation of isolation with the two detectives.

&
nbsp; ‘We checked that Hugh’s keys still worked – we wondered if Sam Brock might have changed the locks already. The old keys worked but we didn’t go in – not through the front or the back door.’ She took a long breath. ‘We did call out to see if Annie might be in the house.’

  ‘But she wasn’t,’ Bill said, noncommittal.

  ‘No. We looked around outside including the pool house and there was no sign of anyone.’

  ‘Despite the Mini being parked at the house?’

  ‘Yes.’ She hadn’t done anything wrong but felt guilty. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m just about certain that Mercedes wasn’t parked outside the kitchen windows when I went with Sam and Hugh that morning. I kept thinking I must have been too off balance to notice. But now I’m sure that’s not the case.’ Her own pointless prattling embarrassed her.

  Bill nodded sympathetically. ‘It can be hard to be certain of some things when you’ve got a lot on your mind like that. Did you or Hugh look inside Annie’s Mini?’

  ‘Yes. Hugh did but there was nothing of interest there.’

  ‘Did he do that before or after you left to go to the back of the house.’

  ‘Before.’

  ‘You didn’t see any sign of Annie anywhere?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you take another look after you’d finished searching the area?’

  Alex felt a flush climb her neck. ‘The Mini was gone by then?’

  Without meeting her eyes, Bill set his pen down. Dan did look at her although his expression remained neutral.

  ‘We got in Hugh’s Subaru and we drove out to see if we could see the car but there was no sign. The ring road at the bottom of Trap Lane was empty in both directions.’

  ‘You were at the Manor House when I got there. What made you drive back?’ Bill was writing again.

  ‘We pulled over to think and to try to call Annie. A fire engine and police car turned up Trap Lane and we followed. We wanted to see where they were going in case it was Green Friday. Then we found out. You know everything that happened after that.’

  Drumming his fingers on the notebook, Bill averted his face. When he turned back his expression was unreadable but it was no longer neutral. ‘And where was Annie by the time you called her?’

  ‘She phoned us and said she was at Bourton-on-the-Water shopping.’

  For the first time, Bill and Dan looked at each other.

  ‘How did she get there?’ Bill asked.

  Alex swallowed. ‘She said she was in her car. But when we were at Doc’s house she told Hugh she’d met an old friend and they were going to have dinner and Annie might not go back to Folly tonight. That was a second call a couple of hours later. She called us.’ In fact it had been rather longer than two hours. ‘Like I said, we talked to her before that. Then later I was glad to be in touch again to make sure she was all right. I was wondering if she parked her car and forgot where it was. That can take time to work out. Or she could have had a lot of errands …’

  ‘You know as well as I do, Alex, that it’s impossible to drive from Green Friday to Bourton in a short space of time. That’s what you’re suggesting she did, isn’t it?’

  Utter misery squeezed at her. ‘Couldn’t they look at the CCTV cameras and traffic cameras to try to find out when she got there? Maybe it was another Mini we saw.’

  Bill rested his elbows on the table and pushed his fingers into his short, thick hair. ‘Do you realize what a difference it might have made if you and Hugh had told us about this during the fire?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘Have you heard of perversion of justice?’

  ‘Yes.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  ‘Blues and twos,’ Bill snapped.

  Dan followed instructions, opening his window and slapping the light on the roof of the car. The siren issued its double wail.

  Communications batted back and forth from the radio.

  ‘Right,’ Bill said. He was speeding. ‘Let’s get there and see what’s up.’

  ‘Not far to go.’ Dan knew better than to warn his ex-partner to slow down. ‘This has turned into a hellish night. We need Annie and now, but they’re on it. I can’t work out the whole Mini, Bourton-on-the-Water story. She lied, but I don’t have the faintest why.’

  They drove into Folly and took the hill road toward the Dimple.

  ‘Hugh isn’t coming clean, either,’ Bill said. ‘You could say Alex should have told us about the Mini the moment she saw us, but Hugh was doing all the talking. Not a dicky bird. You don’t think he’s got a thing for the girl, do you?’

  Dan braced himself with both hands on the dash and took his time to answer. ‘No, she’s young enough to be his daughter.’

  ‘When has that stopped some people?’ Bill gave a short laugh. ‘But I agree it seems unlikely. The difficult part of dealing with Hugh is that the man seems so damned honorable – or so I think.’

  ‘He is or was honorable,’ Dan said. ‘But somehow he’s up to his neck in this.’

  ‘Lamb here,’ Bill said, interrupting the brief comments over the radio. ‘You think it’s important? What does that mean?’

  ‘Diver is using lights, sir. Says he can’t get the job done any faster and believe me, we’ve been pushing.’

  ‘But what does he think he’s got and why can’t he bring it up? He must have a pretty good idea by now.’

  This time a female officer answered. ‘There are ledges and places where the chute narrows. He thinks it’s a body caught up. Very deep.’

  Bill glanced sideways at Dan. ‘Holy shit,’ he said with feeling. ‘I was expecting Percy’s mobile or something we’d have to pray the magicians could do something with. How in hell can there be another body?’

  ‘I think we’re both avoiding the obvious,’ Dan said, hanging on while Bill cut the corner at Trap Lane and sped upward, bumping madly over dried-out ruts.

  Bill’s grim silence was all he got as a reply.

  ‘You do think it’s her?’ Dan pressed.

  They passed the entrances to Green Friday and Radhika’s house.

  ‘Yeah,’ Bill finally said. ‘If so, there’s a list of people to pick up and get in for questioning. It’s a mess. A damned mess. What is it I haven’t seen? Is it something so obvious the egg on my face is getting thicker by the second?’

  ‘I feel your pain,’ Dan said, and he did. ‘I’ve been there too many times but if you’ve missed something, that makes two of us.’

  ‘If I thought it was possible, I’d wonder if we’re looking at a supposed murder, and a suicide. The Quillam’s boy was worse than wrong but both of them played their parts in that. But Sonia couldn’t have got Percy into that pond – or chute as the officer rightly called it – not on her own.’

  ‘So,’ Dan said, adding up pieces faster than was wise at this point. ‘Either Percy did Sonia, then his heart gave out and he hit his head, or we’ll be looking at Sonia having a strong helper. If that’s the case, it’s likely to look as if whoever that was turned on her.’

  Lights at the scene grew stronger, lit up the sky. Bill reached the end of the drivable lane and parked behind the investigators’ vehicles.

  They were out of the car simultaneously and climbing the last distance to the pond, weaving between trees and kicking through scrub toward the spotlights.

  Near the pond, Molly Lewis and Werner Berg were an unexpected surprise and one look at Bill told Dan he wasn’t thrilled to see the pair. Either of them would prefer to get a first look at a crime scene when possible.

  ‘Molly,’ Bill said and nodded at Werner. ‘How did you know to come?’

  ‘I have my sources,’ Molly said with a small smile. She gave Werner a narrow-eyed stare which clearly didn’t trouble him. ‘I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Percy Quillam’s body.’

  ‘Are you intending to dive this evening, Molly,’ Werner asked, straight-faced.

  She actually grinned. ‘I’m intending to see this body as it co
mes out of the water, my friend.’

  ‘But the diver will have to move it,’ Werner persisted. ‘I thought you wanted a body kept in situ until you’d seen it.’

  Molly slipped her arm through Werner’s and they turned back to the pond. Dan didn’t see any unsteadiness in her gait this time.

  ‘Those two banter like an old married couple – admittedly with offbeat topics for most,’ Bill said. ‘I wonder if they see each other when there are no results of a crime around.’

  ‘What would they talk about?’ Dan said and they both chuckled.

  ‘I think he’s coming up,’ an officer called out. He wore a headset with a mic and was in contact with the diver. ‘Yes, he is. With a body.’

  Werner went directly to kneel beside the water with other members of his SOCO team. A videographer and photographer stood ready to roll.

  The diver’s slick, wet-suited head broke the surface.

  The cameras were instantly in action and instructions shouted.

  Molly moved close, bent forward. Once more Werner moved to her side.

  Without removing his mask, the diver struggled, and used both arms to haul his burden to face level, then lifted a flaccid, dripping body toward team members at the ready.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Bill muttered. ‘I want this tosser in custody. Vicious son-of-a-bitch.’

  Stretched on the trampled grass there was no doubt they were looking at the corpse of the victim of a terrible beating.

  ‘Not Sonia,’ Dan said, knowing it was an unnecessary comment.

  Activity was immediately intense with Molly at the center. Bill joined her and sat on his haunches, accepting rubber gloves. The scene would be a bear to record and document – especially by the lights that threw the body into sharp focus but tended to flatten shading in the surrounding area.

  ‘Huh,’ Molly said. ‘I doubt this one’s been in the water more than a few hours. Any guesses on identity?’ She got a chorus of negatives in response.

  ‘Yeah, I know him, or I believe I do,’ Bill said quietly when Dan joined him. ‘How about you?’