The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

  Liam sat back in his chair and allowed his thoughts to roam a little. James Bell was the third man he had known who had changed from being a loving husband and father of several years, to wanting to share his life with a member of his own sex. He wondered if things would have turned out differently for the man if he hadn’t made that decision to be true to himself.

  Chapter 22

  The Jardin des Tuileries was busy but they found seats at a table at one of the small cafes, ordered coffee and a piece of cake each, and settled back to watch the world wander by.

  ‘Do you think they will have tracked James down by now?’

  The question was sudden and surprising, and made Heather stop and think.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said cautiously. I hope not, she thought.

  ‘I think,’ said Claudia thoughtfully, ‘that if they had found him, DS Norwood would have rung me, even though he knows we’re in Paris. I wonder if he’s spoken with Harry and Zoe yet.’

  ‘If he had, I’m sure they would have texted you to let you know.’ Heather moved her chair slightly so that she was in the shade of the umbrella. ‘Let’s forget about James for a while. Time enough to get back into all that when we get home tomorrow. So, tell me what you think to Paris?’

  ‘I’ve loved every tiring minute of it. What I think we should do to round today off is walk down and get a tourist bus, and go all the way around until we’re back here. There must be so much I haven’t been able to see, and I really would like to see as much as possible before…’

  ‘Of course we can.’ Heather leaned across and squeezed Claudia’s hand. ‘Whatever you want to do. And at least we won’t be walking. Shall we eat in the hotel tonight? We can either go down to the restaurant or have room service. You decide when we get back.’

  Chapter 23

  Heather had felt sick ever since Norwood had rung to ask her if he could go in her house, but she knew there was nothing there that could possibly connect her to James Bell’s disappearance.

  Her biggest fear was if he should happen to link cemetery visits with James; she was convinced there would still be traces of both his blood on the ground and her own blood on the headstone, and if that was discovered, she would be in serious difficulties. There had been some rain since she had sunk the scissors into his neck, but it would need a torrential downpour to wash the last traces away. So much blood out of one man…

  She shivered.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Claudia frowned.

  ‘No. I was just thinking about Owen. I miss him. I didn’t stop loving him, you know, I just stopped being able to live with him and his drinking. It’s an awful position to be in.’

  ‘I stopped loving James.’ The statement was flat, emotionless.

  ‘I know. He made you stop loving him. I watched your relationship dissolve, and yet you still didn’t leave him.’

  ‘It was that Saturday morning… that caused the complete breakdown in my mind. It was rape, Heather, it really was, and he didn’t see it. He thought it was his right. But if he was with another man, why did he want me?’

  ‘Maybe he was planning on leaving you. He just wanted you one last time.’

  ‘You think?’ Claudia looked puzzled.

  Heather shrugged. ‘Not really. I actually think he was a lying, cheating conniving bastard, who held the title rapist as well. He’s not worth thinking about, Claud. You finished your coffee?’

  Claudia nodded.

  ‘Then let’s go catch a bus. We can come back here if you want when we get off the bus. See how you feel at the end of the journey.’

  Liam picked up Olivia and Danny, making the swimming pool their first stop of the day. Liam loved his time with them, hated the fact that he hadn’t had the strength to make his marriage work. They swam until they were exhausted, then went for a full English breakfast.

  Olivia, at seven, bubbled over with an energy he prayed would never leave her.

  Danny, two years older than his sister, was the quiet one of the pair, although with a wicked sense of humour. He shovelled sausage tomatoes and some egg into his mouth, then attempted to speak.

  ‘Not with your mouth full, Dan,’ his father admonished. ‘Swallow it and then speak.’ Later he reflected he shouldn’t have given him permission to talk.

  Dan swallowed the mouthful, and said, ‘Did you dig up the body, Dad?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What was it like? Was it just a skeleton?’

  Liam felt panicked. What sort of conversation was this to have over a full English, with your seven and nine-year-old kids?

  ‘Erm… no, I didn’t dig it up, as you so crudely put it. We have special forensic people to do that. Now get on with your breakfast.’

  ‘But I need to know. Was it a skeleton, or did it have skin and stuff on it?’

  Olivia carried on eating, oblivious to the gory question and answer session happening in front of her.

  ‘Why do you need to know?’ Liam knew as soon as he spoke the words that he shouldn’t have. Really, he should have just changed the subject, possibly to the Disney film they were planning on seeing that afternoon, something safe and gentle.

  ‘The kids at school want to know.’

  Shit. This couldn’t be happening! He’d never thought about telling the kids that anything they heard about his job wasn’t to be taken to school and discussed.

  ‘The kids at school can’t know. Tell them it will be in the papers, and they’ll have to read it for themselves.’

  ‘Aw, but Dad, why can’t you tell me?’

  ‘No. You know I can’t talk about my job.’

  ‘You used to talk about it with Mum. I heard you.’

  This was getting worse.

  ‘You didn’t tell them at school?’

  ‘Sometimes. They gave me sweets to tell them.’

  ‘Oh my life, Daniel, you can’t do that!’ He felt the use of the boy’s full name was justified. ‘That can get me into so much trouble…’

  ‘It can’t now, can it,’ the young boy responded. ‘You don’t talk to her at all.’

  Liam felt a tightness in his throat. He placed his knife and fork on his plate and looked at his children.

  ‘Hey, can I talk to both of you for a minute?’

  Two pairs of matching blue eyes lifted and looked at his face.

  ‘Just because your mum and I aren’t together, doesn’t mean we’ve stopped talking. We talk all the time, usually about you two. We just stopped being able to live together, we didn’t stop loving each other, and especially we love you two.’

  Neither child said anything. Liam ploughed on.

  ‘Promise me you will never repeat anything at school that you hear at home. It’s not done, Dan. I still talk to your mum a lot about my work, and I would hate to have to stop talking to her because you might say something to your mates.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’ Dan’s voice had dropped an octave. ‘I just never thought.’

  ‘I know.’ Liam reached across and ruffled his hair. ‘I love you both so much.’

  He held his daughter’s hand. ‘And you, Liv, did you understand?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nope. Can I eat my sausage now?’

  He dropped the children off just after ten next morning; they were going to a summer fayre with their mum, and he handed over a fiver to each child, telling them to spend it wisely, and not on alcohol. They had both giggled and dashed up the path. He waited until they were safely indoors before driving away.

  Instead of going home he went to the station. It was quiet; Sundays carried only a skeleton staff, and he sat down at his desk and looked around him. The white board still held the same number of question marks; nothing was any clearer.

  Where the hell was James Bell? Liam would dearly love to see Heather’s face if he asked her that question.

  He powered his computer, and heard the pings denoting incoming mail. The first email he checked was from Councillor Monroe, asking if there were any updates on James.

&
nbsp; Liam answered very briefly, keeping everything from him that really couldn’t be passed on. Basically, his answer was no, no updates. We don’t know where he is. What should have been said was we know where his blood is.

  The next email was from the forensics team. He read through it quickly, and then went back to the beginning and studied it thoughtfully.

  The body discovered almost by accident proved to be a local youth by the name of George Ullyat, tentatively reported as missing but never really followed up because he was known to disappear if he thought the police were starting to look at him too closely. It seemed that three years prior to the discovery of his body, his brother had come in to the station demanding to know if they were holding the said George. The officer had checked, confirmed they weren’t holding him for anything, and asked him if he wanted to make it an official missing person’s report. The use of the word official had sent Craig Ullyat running for cover.

  And that was the last time George Ullyat had come onto their radar. He was definitely on it now.

  The email confirmed they already held Ullyat’s DNA on their database from 2012 when he had attacked his then girlfriend, Michelle Samuels. They had been able to successfully match it to DNA removed from the skeletal remains found buried on the spare land.

  Liam breathed a huge sigh. He now knew what the first job for the morning was going to be, the one he hated most of all. He would have to tell a family they had lost a loved one. He went into the computer once again and typed in the name Craig Ullyat. It threw up an address, along with a list of offences, none of which had resulted in imprisonment.

  He stayed for another hour, re-reading everything, making a few notes, adding a few more question marks; he still felt he knew what had happened to James Bell, and who had done it, but it was so unbelievable he wanted to start back at the beginning and find a different suspect.

  And so the week drew to a close. Claudia and Heather were back in their flat, Claudia feeling a little under the weather and Heather feeling worried. It had been an outstanding trip.

  Claudia would treasure the memories they had created. If she had to pinpoint the one thing that had given her a feeling of deepest satisfaction, it would be her first sight of the Mona Lisa, and the emotions that picture had engendered.

  She rang Zoe and Harry to tell them they were home, and she had some little touristy gifts for them, then sank into the bath Heather had run for her.

  Heather went out onto the patio while Claudia was bathing, taking a cup of tea with her. She sat down, then saw the fluttering ribbon. She stood and walked to the railing that surrounded the patio and looked over.

  She went icily cold. She began to shiver, and swiftly took a drink of the hot tea. It was crime scene tape that had fluttered into her eyeline. Crime scene tape? What had happened that could necessitate the use of the area being cordoned with the blue and white tape? She could just see the edge of the excavated area around the back of the brick shed, and she sat down again. She picked up her phone and rang Michelle.

  ‘Do you know what’s been happening on the spare land out back?’ she asked, a little peremptorily. ‘Sorry… I didn’t mean to sound so bullish. I’m tired.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There’s crime scene tape, and an excavated area round the back of that brick storage place. I thought you might know what had gone off.’

  There was a long pause, and then Michelle said, ‘Sorry,’ and disconnected.

  Heather stared at her phone, bewildered. Sorry? What did that mean? What was she sorry about?

  Claudia came out onto the patio wrapped in a huge white towel, with a smaller one around her hair.

  ‘That was lovely,’ she said, and bent to kiss the top of Heather’s head. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Want a cup of tea?’

  ‘I’d love one. What’s that?’ She too walked over to the edge of the patio.

  ‘It’s crime scene tape. Don’t know why though. I’ll get you that drink.’

  Heather headed back inside, and into the kitchen. She leaned against the worktop for a while, fighting the fear that was threatening to overwhelm her.

  The tea was quickly made, minus the milk, and she went back outside, to see Claudia with her eyes closed. She stood for a moment, and then Claudia said, ‘I’m not asleep, just resting my eyes. Come and sit down, you don’t have to wait on me.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Heather said, and the tears came, tears she had been holding back for a couple of weeks.

  ‘Please, please, Claudia, change your mind about the chemo. I can’t bear to think of being without you.’

  ‘I won’t change my mind,’ Claudia said gently. ‘When the time comes I want to go to St. Luke’s Hospice, where they’ll keep me pain free. I can make all my decisions now, while my brain is working properly, so tomorrow I’m going to write my wishes for the end of my life in a book. I’m relying on you to carry them out.’

  ‘You know I will, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, even harder than burying my husband.’

  Claudia squeezed her hand. ‘I know. I hope you find a good friend who will be with you at your end, but make no mistake, Heather Gower, I’ll be up there waiting for you, with a big pot of tea in my hand.’

  And then the laughter came.

  Rosie and Neil sat closely together on her sofa. It felt strange; she had lived on her own for a long time, and although Neil hadn’t officially moved in, he seemed to spend most nights with her.

  They finished watching Countryfile and switched off the television. Neil kissed the top of her head.

  ‘Been a long week, hasn’t it,’ Rosie said. ‘The boss is convinced it’s Mrs Gower, isn’t he?’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘I suppose so. I just don’t think it’s that cut and dried. Where’s the body to prove she’s done anything? And to be honest, I’d have wanted to kill him myself.’

  Neil laughed. ‘Not the right attitude, my love, for a serving officer of the law.’

  ‘Really? Do I have to think sweet thoughts, then, all the time? Not going to happen.’

  ‘Shall we go to bed?’

  ‘What? It’s only eight o’clock.’

  ‘Early start tomorrow.’

  ‘Is that the only reason?’ Rosie asked with a laugh.

  ‘Nope. That was a lie. I want to kiss you and, you know, we’ll see what develops.’

  She stood and held out her hand to him. ‘Let’s go develop.’

  It was the fastest he’d moved all week.

  Liam stood at his bedroom window, staring out at the starry sky. No clouds but it felt chilly. His thoughts were chaotic.

  He knew by the end of the week they would have answers, and somebody would be in custody, body or no body. But first he had to deal with the murder of George Ullyat. It wasn’t simply a matter of telling his family, he also had to track down a gun, find out whose hand the gun had been in when it had pointed at George’s back, and gather enough evidence to put that person away for life.

  He hoped the elusive Craig Ullyat wouldn’t clam up; he probably held the key to his brother’s murder without realising it. And he needed to track down the ex-girlfriend George had assaulted that had resulted in his prison sentence back in 2012. At the very least she could give background information on George. Liam thought she was called Michelle, but he couldn’t remember her surname. He’d put Mark on to tracking her down.

  Liam had rung his ex some two hours earlier and told her of his conversation with the kids about the necessity of keeping quiet at school about any of Daddy’s work. She had laughed and said she would have a chat with them and make sure they understood. They had chatted comfortably for a quarter of an hour, sorted out issues surrounding money needing to be sent to school for organised trips, and then said goodnight. He knew he still loved her, and he was almost certain she still loved him; it was the job that stopped the perfection.

  Almost certain.

  Dan had spoken of
someone called Martin. He didn’t ask about him, didn’t want to know, but he recognised that if indeed there was a Martin, it would kill his own hopes of one day reconciling their differences, forever. He wasn’t sure if he could bear the thought of losing her completely, not to Martin or any other Tom, Dick or Harry.

  He leaned his head against the coolness of the window and sighed. Was the job worth it? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to do what Rosie and Neil had done; find someone in the same job.

  He reached up and closed the curtains, then headed for the shower. It had been a long and muggy day, he needed a cool shower before climbing into bed. He turned the temperature up slightly when he realised it was maybe a little too cool, splashed on the shower gel and shampooed his hair. It hit him with the force of a thunderbolt.

  James Bell had been heading back to Sheffield to track his wife down at a place she went to every Saturday. What had Heather Gower said? ‘I saw him at the cemetery.’

  Liam dried himself and headed back to the bedroom. Attempting sleep, he knew that the jobs for Monday were stacking up; notify a family their son was dead, track down the ex-girlfriend, check in with Heather Gower and Claudia Bell, find a gun, and, last but not least, visit a cemetery.

  He was awake at four, with the list going around and around his head. Not a good night’s sleep, but hopefully a good day’s work. He picked up a book and began to read. Just another couple of hours might be a good idea, he thought.

  23

  ‘Mrs Ullyat? DS Norwood, and this is DC Havenhand. May we come in for a moment, please?’

  She had the look of a startled rabbit. Her blonde hair was in a tangled halo around her head, her pink dressing gown was tied loosely around her waist revealing a cream nightie, stained with multiple breakfasts, and she had clearly clambered out of bed to answer the knock at the door.