Silent Graves

by Sally Rigby

  ‘Why are you asking?’ Mr Robertson said.

  She sucked in a breath, bracing herself for delivering the news. ‘We have been informed, although it’s not confirmed, that they were the young women who sold Justin the amphetamine that resulted in his death.’

  The silence enveloped them as the elderly couple took in the news. The only sign of movement was when Mrs Robertson took hold of her husband’s hand and squeezed.

  ‘We didn’t know that,’ Mr Robertson said. ‘But surely you don’t think we had something to do with the girls’ deaths?’ His voice tremored.

  ‘Please don’t worry, Mr Robertson. We’re not here to accuse you. Our investigation has widened since discovering the girls were dealing at school and that Justin had died after taking a drug they’d possibly sold him. We want to get a fuller picture of the girls’ lives and believe that speaking to you about Justin will help. I know this will be hard for you, but can you tell me about the time he died?’

  Mrs Robertson drew in a breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds. ‘It was a Friday night and Justin had gone out to a club in the city called The County with his friends to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. I’d dropped him off outside at eight, where he’d arranged to meet them.’ She fiddled with the edge of the beige knitted cardigan she was wearing. ‘I know none of them were eighteen, but we thought he’d be safe as so many kids from his school went there especially on a Friday. The management turned a blind eye to their ages. We thought it was better than having him roaming the streets. When he was there, he took some speed. It … it …’ A single tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away. ‘It affected him badly and he died in his sleep after he came home.’ She paused for a few seconds. ‘I-I knocked on his bedroom door late Saturday morning to tell him I was going shopping. When he didn’t answer I went in and found him sprawled out on top of his covers, still dressed. His body was stone cold. He’d been dead for hours …’ Her voice faded away.

  A breath caught in Whitney’s throat. The grief, even after all this time, was so raw.

  ‘The coroner said Justin died from a heart attack and recorded his death as accidental,’ Mr Robertson added.

  ‘Did anyone ask you where Justin got the drug from?’ Brian asked.

  ‘No.’ Mr Robertson shook his head.

  ‘Do you know where he got it from?’ Brian continued.

  Whitney inwardly fumed. The answer to that was obvious, from what Mr Robertson had said a few moments ago. If Brian was going to interrupt, which she had specifically warned against, then he could at least have listened to the rest of the interview.

  ‘No. It wasn’t something we even considered, we were too upset at losing Justin,’ Mr Robertson said. ‘It really didn’t matter where he bought it. Knowing wasn’t going to change the fact that he’d been taken from us.’

  ‘Do you have a photo of Justin we can look at?’ Whitney asked, putting an end to the line of questioning as it was serving no purpose.

  ‘Yes, I can show you his room as well, if you like. We haven’t touched it since he died,’ Mrs Robertson said.

  Her body tensed. Had they kept his room intact for all these years? Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away before anyone noticed.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said.

  She glanced at Brian. Was this affecting him, too? It didn’t appear to be, there was no change in his expression.

  Her heart went out to the elderly couple. Their whole life had come to a standstill because of what had happened, and it appeared it had never restarted.

  They followed Mrs Robertson upstairs and when they reached the first door on the left she opened it and they walked in. The room smelt fresh and airy, and the curtains had been opened. A single bed stood along the back wall, and there were Manchester United football posters on every surface. It was as if Justin was alive and still slept in there.

  She glanced at Mrs Robertson, whose pinched expression had changed and become more relaxed. Did spending time in her son’s room have some sort of cathartic effect on her?

  ‘Justin liked his football,’ Whitney said, as she peered at the posters and the old-fashioned kit the players all wore.

  ‘Yes, he was a really good player. He had his heart set on becoming a professional, but I’m not sure he was good enough for that, though. Unfortunately, we never found out.’ Her eyes glazed over.

  ‘Sergeant Chapman plays football, too,’ Whitney said.

  She nodded at Brian, encouraging him to speak and make a connection with Mrs Robertson. They owed her that much, coming into their lives and wanting them to relive what had happened. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said, his voice flat as he continued looking around the room.

  Clearly he hadn’t got her message.

  Whitney headed over to the chest of drawers, after seeing a photo in the centre. ‘Who’s the girl with Justin in this picture?’

  ‘His girlfriend, Liz. They were serious and talking about getting engaged. I know they were young, and we really didn’t want them to settle down so soon, but she was such a lovely girl. She kept in touch with us for a couple of years after Justin passed, while she was still at school. But after she went off to university, we didn’t see her again.’

  ‘Lenchester?’ Whitney asked.

  ‘No. She went down south but I don’t remember where. We didn’t blame her for wanting to start afresh and forget about what had happened. I think she felt responsible.’

  ‘In what way?’ Brian said, jumping in.

  Now he decided to talk.

  ‘They were out together celebrating Justin’s birthday and she didn’t stop him from taking the pills. It was the first time he’d tried it.’ She paused. ‘And the last …’

  ‘Was taking the drug her idea?’ Whitney asked.

  ‘I don’t think so, because she didn’t take any.’

  ‘Did Liz tell you where Justin got the drugs from?’ Brian asked.

  Whitney frowned. They’d already covered that earlier, did he think they were lying? Nothing she’d heard so far made her believe that was the case.

  ‘No. My husband told you, when it was all happening, we didn’t think to ask.’

  ‘Do you mind if I take the photo with me?’ Whitney said. ‘I’ll bring it back as soon as we’ve finished with it.’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ Mrs Robertson said. ‘But please look after it.’

  Whitney pulled out an evidence bag from her pocket and dropped the photo in its silver frame inside.

  ‘I will. Can you tell me Liz’s full name?’

  ‘Elizabeth Franklin.’

  ‘And you definitely don’t remember meeting, or hearing anything about Anita and Jayne?’ Whitney asked, as she scanned the room.

  ‘No, I’m sorry. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t. It was so long ago, and he knew so many people …’

  The woman was getting agitated and Whitney didn’t want to make things any worse for them.

  ‘It’s no problem. Thank you very much for showing us around and talking to us about Justin, we really appreciate it.’

  They followed her downstairs and then left. Once they returned to the car she turned to Brian.

  ‘Let’s get back to the station. I want Ellie to find the girlfriend. I hope she’s fairly local as that would make things much easier for us.’

  Chapter 22

  Whitney was standing at the board, staring at the map when she spotted George walk in.

  ‘Good morning,’ George said when she reached her. ‘Where are we off to?’

  ‘Watford to see Elizabeth Franklin, who was Justin Robertson’s girlfriend while they were at school. It shouldn’t take long in your car and I’m sure you’ll love to put your foot down on the motorway.’

  ‘You echoed my thoughts. Is she expecting us?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I decided against warning her we were coming. She’s an accountant and works for Glasson Ltd. We’ll go there and hope she’s at work. If she isn’t, we will go to her house.’

&n
bsp; ‘It’s a long way to drive without an appointment,’ she said.

  ‘Then we’ll go back another time. Just think of all those miles you can clock up,’ Whitney said arching an eyebrow.

  ‘I admit it would be a nice trip.’

  ‘It shouldn’t take us more than fifty minutes to get there,’ Whitney said.

  ‘Okay, I’m ready whenever you are.’

  ‘Listen up, everyone. Dr Cavendish and I are going to see Elizabeth Franklin. We’ll be back later. Before we go, Brian, feedback from your interviews with the farm workers.’

  ‘Best is in his eighties and lives with his son. He kept repeating that farming was hard work and he worked on a farm for fifty years. He wasn’t really with it so I couldn’t push him. We got more out of Cross. According to him, the farm was well run during old Mr Gibson’s time, but he thought Anthony was a waste of space.’

  ‘Did he say why?’

  ‘Yes. He said he was full of hot air, with lots of grand plans which came to nothing, because he didn’t understand farming.’

  ‘Damning, but not directly any help to the enquiry. Did you ask him about what the land was used for, especially where the burial site was?’

  ‘Yes, guv. During his time the land was mainly arable. In the 70s and early 80s they mainly grew barley and gradually shifted to wheat. I showed him a photo of the burial site and he said that part of the farm was left unplanted because of it being close to the public right of way and kids and dogs were always running all over it.’

  ‘Makes sense. Thanks, Brian.’ She turned to George. ‘Let’s go.’

  They headed out to the car and Whitney smiled at the thrilled expression on her friend’s face as she started the engine and drove out into the traffic.

  ‘What can you tell me about Elizabeth Franklin?’ George asked.

  ‘She’s single and lives alone, according to Ellie. She went out with Justin for two years and at sixteen their relationship was serious. They were even talking about getting engaged. Justin’s parents approved of the couple being together and Elizabeth kept in touch with them until going off to university, two years after Justin died, and they didn’t hear from her again after that. They believe Elizabeth felt guilty over what had happened, because she didn’t stop him from taking the drug.’

  ‘That often happens. You should address that in your questioning.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’

  ‘Is there something wrong, you don’t seem your usual self?’ George asked, glancing quickly at her.

  ‘There is. I was going to tell you, but then decided not to bother you with it. It’s about Brian. You’re never going to believe this but he’s friends with Douglas.’

  ‘Close friends?’

  ‘I’ve no idea but I do know that he’s worked with Dickhead in the past and he thinks he’s a good bloke. What the hell is that meant to mean? You’ve seen for yourself what an arsewipe he can be. And now I’ve got someone on my team who thinks he’s a good bloke.’

  ‘Brian could have said that because he didn’t want to demean Douglas in front of you, as you’re his superior officer,’ George said.

  ‘I’ll reserve judgement on that.’

  ‘How did you find this out?’

  ‘We bumped into Dickhead in the lift and they started talking about football. Brian plays for the Lenchester police team and it seems that Dickhead is coaching them.’

  ‘That doesn’t make them friends.’

  ‘No, but you should have heard the way Douglas was talking to him, as if they were best buddies.’

  ‘Are you sure Douglas didn’t do it on purpose to make you think they were closer than they really are. As a chief superintendent it’s not the sort of behaviour I’d condone or expect him to engage in, however, witnessing first-hand how he can be with you, I wouldn’t discount it.’

  ‘You’re right, he could have done it just to wind me up. I wouldn’t put it past him. But, having said that, I’ll still have to be careful what I say to Brian in future, in case he tells Douglas.’

  ‘But surely as chief superintendent he has a right to know everything that’s going on in any case being investigated by all the teams at Lenchester.’

  ‘On a macro level, of course he does. But he doesn’t need to know all the details. It’s … oh, never mind.’ She gave a frustrated sigh.

  ‘But that aside, are you finding working with Brian satisfactory?’

  ‘If I forget about Dickhead, then he’s not too bad. I just have to stop comparing him with Matt, which is hard because I liked Matt so much. I’m sure in time Brian will settle in.’

  ‘What about your other new recruit, how’s she doing?’

  She shifted about in her seat, conscious that she’d hardly thought about Meena at all recently, as she’d been so busy focusing on Brian.

  ‘I haven’t had much to do with Meena so far, obviously, because this is our first case. I have no complaints, although I’ve not given her as much attention as she should have had.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to rectify that, and ensure she feels part of the team.’

  The rest of the journey they chatted about less worrying things, which she was glad about as it meant she could relax more.

  When they arrived at Glasson Ltd, George parked in the car park and they headed through the double doors into the reception.

  ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Walker and this is Dr Cavendish. We’re from Lenchester CID.’ Whitney held out her warrant card. ‘We’d like to speak to Elizabeth Franklin please, on police business.’

  ‘Is she expecting you?’ the receptionist asked.

  ‘No, she’s not.’

  ‘Please take a seat over there.’ The woman pointed to the waiting area opposite where there were two black leather sofas and a coffee table with magazines on it.

  After a few minutes, a woman in her mid-fifties with highlighted dark blonde hair hurried towards them, her face set and a pained expression in her eyes.

  ‘I’m Elizabeth Franklin. What’s happened, is it one of my parents?’ She bit down on her bottom lip.

  ‘No, we’re not here about any of your family,’ Whitney said in a reassuring tone.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Elizabeth said, letting out a long sigh. ‘At their age every time the phone rings I worry that something has happened to them.’

  ‘I understand,’ Whitney said. ‘We’d like to talk to you somewhere quiet, if we may.’

  ‘What is it about?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘Justin Robertson,’ Whitney said.

  Momentarily, the woman’s face tightened before she composed herself. They followed her to a meeting room with a glass-topped round table surrounded by six chairs.

  ‘How can I help you?’ Elizabeth asked, once they were seated.

  The woman gave the outward appearance of being in control, but the tight lines around her eyes gave her away. Whitney didn’t need George to tell her that.

  ‘We’re investigating the murders of Anita Bailey and Jayne Kennedy,’ Whitney said.

  ‘I did see on the news that their bodies had been found on a building site, but I’m not sure how I can be of any help. I vaguely remember them from school and the fuss when they disappeared but that’s about all. It was a lifetime ago.’

  ‘How did you feel when you learnt of the girls’ deaths?’ Whitney asked, glancing at George who was scrutinising the woman’s face.

  ‘Obviously, when it was announced in the media I was sorry to hear about it, but they weren’t friends of mine, so I’d be lying if I said it upset me at all.’

  ‘We were informed that Anita and Jayne sold the drugs to Justin which led to his death. Can you confirm whether that was the case?’

  She slumped forward slightly, a pained expression on her face. ‘Yes, it’s true.’

  Was that why she wasn’t concerned by the girls’ deaths, because she held them responsible for what happened?

  ‘Can you tell us more about Justin’s relationship with Anita and Jayne?’


  ‘He didn’t have a relationship with them. They were in our year, but not the same form, and we didn’t have anything to do with them. They weren’t friends of ours.’

  ‘Did Justin buy the drugs from them himself, or did someone buy them for him?’

  ‘He bought them, there was no one else involved.’ Her fists were clenched and rested on the table.

  ‘Did you approve of what he did?’

  ‘No. I was angry because I didn’t want him to take anything, but he insisted it would be okay as we had friends who were already experimenting. We rarely argued but we did over this. He’d been planning it a few weeks before his actual birthday and had bought the drug ten days before taking it. If only I’d tried harder to stop him, he might still be alive. I’ll never forgive myself for that.’

  Even after all this time.

  ‘Did you take anything?’ Whitney asked.

  ‘No, I didn’t. Justin understood and he didn’t try to pressure me into it.’

  ‘How did you know to buy the drugs from Jayne and Anita?’

  ‘Everyone knew. It was common knowledge at school that if you wanted anything, they would be the ones to supply it.’

  ‘Did the teaching staff know?’

  ‘If they did they didn’t do anything about it.’

  ‘We also understand that another boy, Nigel Young, was selling at school.’

  Elizabeth frowned. ‘If he did then it wasn’t common knowledge. I don’t even remember him. There were six forms in the fifth year, each with over thirty pupils in them, so we didn’t know everyone.’

  ‘I’d like to go back to when you discovered Jayne and Anita had gone missing. You said you remembered the fuss … can you be more specific and explain exactly what happened and your reaction to it.’

  ‘It wasn’t long after Justin died, and I was operating on autopilot, but I do remember it was all anyone could talk about. At first they thought Jayne and Anita would come back, but they never did.’

  ‘Did the police interview you about the girls going missing?’

  ‘No. An officer spoke to each of the fifth form class groups individually and asked us to see them if we knew anything that would help. I don’t know if anyone spoke to them. I didn’t.’