Dead Jealous

by Helen H. Durrant

  * * *

  Frank Chadwick could see Dolly coming up the hill towards him and his heart sank. He needed some time alone. He was out of breath, sitting on a chair in the doorway of his shed, gasping.

  “Dolly! You shouldn’t be here,” he wheezed.

  “Have you heard? Someone’s killed Hopwood.”

  Frank looked at her and shook his head. “Comes as no surprise.” He clutched at his chest.

  His face crumpled with pain each time he inhaled. “Are you alright, Frank? You don’t look well.”

  He shook his head. “Too much rushing around this morning. I’m not supposed to overdo things. COPD, you know.”

  Frank liked Dolly, and was usually happy to chat. But not today. He smiled apologetically. “You should go. I’ll be off home myself if this chest of mine doesn’t ease.”

  “What have you been up to?”

  Frank didn’t want her concern. He just wanted to be left alone. “Nothing, Dolly. I overdid it getting here, that’s all. It’s a nice day. I walked the long way round and got a bit puffed.”

  Dolly had never seen him like this before. She knew he had bad lungs. As a kid he’d worked in the local cotton factory. A lot of people around here had lung problems because of that. Back then, no one worried about the dust. “What are we going to do about Hopwood? The police are bound to question us.”

  Frank heaved a painful sigh and shook his head. He had a glass of water at his side and he took a sip. Any other time he’d have been happy to talk to Dolly, flattered that she’d sought him out. She was in her late forties, attractive, with dark hair and a slim figure. Every Saturday night she’d get done up to the nines, then her and a friend would spend the night down at the social club. Dolly was popular, well liked. Frank was surprised she’d never got herself a decent man. Flora’s father hadn’t hung around for long after she’d been born. Since Flora’s murder though, she was very different. No make-up, her hair was a mess, and her clothes looked as if they’d been slept in. It was a shame, not like her, but he understood why. Dolly was devastated by what had happened to her daughter. She could no longer cope. If the woman didn’t get her act together soon, Frank doubted they’d ever see the old Dolly again.

  “He’s been murdered, Frank. Don’t you understand?” Dolly hissed. “Someone stabbed Hopwood, then pushed him off the first floor of the flats this morning.”

  Unable to speak, Frank waved his hand at her.

  “Was it you? Did you decide to go it alone?”

  “What makes you think that?” This brought on another fit of coughing. After a while, he said, “I was all for going with that nurse’s idea. Drugging the bastard.”

  Dolly stared at him. “I’ve not seen you like this before, Frank. It’s more than your chest. You’re acting strange.”

  “My old problem. I’m out of breath, that’s all it is.”

  Dolly didn’t believe him. Something wasn’t right with Frank, but he obviously didn’t want to discuss it.

  “I’m worried, Frank. The police are bound to come round to mine. They know how much I hated the man. After the fire incident, I’ll be top of the list.”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Dolly. Bernie has that spot.” Frank grimaced. “Hopwood gave him that beating. Bernie told them he didn’t know who it was, but the police aren’t daft. They know what’s what.”

  “Do you think Bernie did it? He does have a temper on him. Every bit as bad as Hopwood’s when he’s pushed.”

  Frank nodded. “It could have been. But whoever it was, we have to keep quiet.”

  “I’ll crack under pressure, I know I will. I’m eaten up with worry. I’ve got to sort Flora’s funeral. It’s all too much, and now on top of that, this has happened.”

  Frank shook his head. “You have to calm down, woman! The police have nothing. The group — you, we, have done nothing wrong. We met and we talked, that’s all. In the unlikely event you are asked about the meeting, you tell them you were nowhere near. The nurse will back you up. You can say you were talking to him.”

  “But I wasn’t! I’d just got back from being with you lot. It was about nine in the morning when I got home. It must have been within thirty minutes or so of Hopwood being attacked. I could have been seen. Anyone might come forward, make me out to be a liar.”

  “When the police talk to you, stay calm. No one saw us. It was too early. Like we agreed, just tell the police you were talking to the nurse about Flora.”

  * * *

  Calladine was about to join the others on the Hobfield when his mobile rang. It was his daughter, Zoe.

  She spoke quietly. “Would you pop in and see me? I don’t want to talk on the phone. What I have to say is . . . delicate.”

  Another one. First Julian and now Zo. “What’s wrong?” Calladine didn’t like mysteries if they concerned his daughter.

  “I’ll explain when you get here.” He heard the tension in her voice. “It’s a difficult one, but it’s something you need to know right now.”

  “Okay, love. Put the kettle on and I’ll be round in five.”

  Calladine’s daughter was a solicitor with an office on the High Street above the estate agents owned by her partner, Jo Brandon. As well as setting up home together, the two young women had formed a successful business partnership. Between them, they handled most of the house sales in Leesworth.

  Calladine left the station, walked across the car park, and out the back way into Leesdon centre. It was late afternoon. The shops were still busy, and the sun was out again. It gave the small town a pleasant lift.

  Zoe and Jo were deep in conversation when he arrived. A couple were chatting animatedly by the property boards. The minute he came in the door, Zoe gestured for him to follow her into the back.

  “I didn’t know what to do, but I can’t just sit on it. If Ruth finds out, she’ll kill me.”

  “Ruth? What’s going on?” Calladine was really curious now.

  “First thing this morning, before we were even open, Jake Ireson knocked on the door. He was on his way into school.” Zoe paused and folded her arms. “I feel like I’m telling tales, but I can’t just do nothing.” She gave her father a long, hard look. “He spoke to Jo, but I was also here. He asked me not to say anything.” Zoe ran a hand through her short black hair.

  “Spit it out, girl! Whatever it is, it’s obviously doing your head in.”

  “Jake wants Jo to do a valuation on their house.” She waited for a response. “You know,” she prompted, “on his and Ruth’s house. A valuation with a view to selling!”

  “Jake is thinking of moving?”

  “Well, he must be. But they’ve only had that house two minutes. He told Jo it had to be done quickly, and asked how long it would take to sell.”

  “Does Ruth know?”

  “Has she said anything to you?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Then I reckon she doesn’t.” Zoe gnawed on her bottom lip. “What’s going on, Dad? Are they having problems?”

  “Ruth has spoken a bit about the state of play in that relationship, and it’s not good. Like you, I don’t like speaking about her behind her back, but things must be worse than she made out.”

  “Jake’s got some nerve!”

  “Ruth isn’t happy with the way things are. But it’s hard, bringing up a child and working flat out. They are bound to have the odd rough patch.”

  “This isn’t a rough patch, Dad. He wants to sell up. I asked him if he wanted to buy something else but he said not. He could be planning to sell, split the proceeds and go their own separate ways.”

  Calladine’s heart sank. “Ruth would be devastated if that happened. I’m sure their current problems are just that — current. Once Harry gets a bit older, things will be better. Living together, having a child, it’s a lot to cope with for two people used to doing their own thing for so long. Ruth loves Jake, I know she does. I think the pair of them could do with a break.”

  “Given that isn’t goin
g to happen any time soon, what are you going to do?”

  “God knows. I’ll have to tell her, I suppose.” He looked at Zoe, hoping she might offer some alternative bright idea. This was relationship stuff, something he was notoriously bad at. “Perhaps I’d be better leaving it up to Jake.”

  “You can’t do that! Once Ruth knows Jake has been here, she’ll realise that you must know. Tell her, Dad. It’s her home too. Stop wimping about.”

  “Okay, love, I’ll do it. I’ll offer a shoulder to cry on, and if she wants, a couple of rooms in my house.”

  Zoe stroked his arm and smiled. “That is if he is planning to do one. Tread carefully. Don’t say too much, and don’t take sides. With any luck, they might put things right.”

  Good advice from Zoe, as always. He smiled. She was very like him. The same dark hair, the slim build he’d had when he was younger, and the regular features that made Zoe a very pretty young woman. He’d missed being there when she was growing up, and he regretted that. But there was nothing he could do about it. Until she moved north and found him, he’d had no idea that Zoe even existed.

  “As if I didn’t have enough to think about.”

  “Difficult case?”

  “Aren’t they always?” He grimaced. “I’d better get off.”

  “Get round to ours for your tea one night this week. Jo will make something special.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

  * * *

  Back at the nick, Calladine was relieved to see that Ruth and the others were still out working the Hobfield. God knows what he was going to say to her. He couldn’t work out what Jake was up to. Why had he not told Ruth that he’d booked a valuation? What was he up to?

  Worrying about what Zoe had said was playing havoc with his concentration. Calladine had no choice. He’d have to speak to Ruth as soon as possible.

  He rang her. “I could do with a word in private. It’s a personal matter. Give it half an hour then meet me at the café in the library, and don’t bring any of the others with you.”

  Chapter 19

  “Do you remember Roly, the homeless bloke who turns up around here every so often?” Ruth put her coat and bag over the back of a chair. “Well, he’s back. Unknown to anyone who matters, he’s been dossing down under the canal bridge by the viaduct. He wandered onto the Hobfield earlier, looking for a handout from the community centre and got a rollicking from uniform. Old and unwashed he might be, but Roly is still as sharp as ever. I’ll have a word later, see if he’s seen or heard anything.”

  Calladine wasn’t listening, his mind was on how to begin this conversation.

  “What’s up, Tom? You’ve got a face like a slapped backside.” Ruth sat down and took a sip of the coffee he’d ordered for her. “Perfect,” she said, and grabbed a biscuit. “Roly is worth talking to. Can’t say we got much else. Banged on a lot of doors and ended up with nothing but sore hands. Nothing on Hopwood and even less on Flora Appleton. Finding the weapon would help, but how likely is that?”

  “This is a thankless task. No one will talk to us. Once word gets round that Hopwood is dead, it’ll get even worse,” Calladine said.

  “One thing I have detected: the atmosphere around the estate has changed. Everyone is happy. Obviously, we found no one who’s sorry about what’s happened.”

  “Forget that for the minute. I want to talk about something else.” He had to get this over with.

  “Serious, is it? You look fed up.”

  “I’ve heard something. I’ve been going over it, wondering whether to tell you or not, but you need to know.” He paused, looking at her puzzled face. “So I’m just going to say it — okay?” He took a breath. “Jake went into Jo’s estate agents this morning and booked a valuation on your house.”

  Ruth stared at him. “Are you sure?”

  He knew his face said it all.

  “Of course you are. Zoe told you. Bet she rang you special. Why did she not just tell me?” Now she was annoyed.

  “Because she was worried. She didn’t know what it meant. Jake wasn’t interested in looking at other properties to buy and he didn’t explain himself either.”

  “Typical Jake! He’s a bloody fool. He must have realised I’d find out. Apart from which, we jointly own that house. So he can’t put it in the hands of an agent without my signature on a document.” Ruth slammed her cup back onto the saucer, slopping coffee onto the table. “What the hell is he playing at? The idiot has said nothing to me.”

  “Could there be an explanation? Is it a surprise perhaps?”

  “Oh, it’s that alright! I’ll bloody surprise him when I get hold of the fool! He knows how I feel. I’ve no intention of moving again for a while. If we move now, we won’t break even. Moving to the house we’re in now has cost us a fortune. What the hell is going on inside that head of his?”

  “I’m sorry, Ruth.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s my problem. I’ll stick it at the top of the list and move on.”

  “Has this anything to do with you two not getting on of late?” he asked.

  “How the hell should I know? Jake doesn’t speak to me. He grunts a lot, and flounces off to the bedroom to work. But adult conversation — no.” Ruth shook her head. “I get more sense out of Harry!”

  As he’d expected, Ruth had taken it badly. He felt rotten for being the one to tell her. He gave her a tentative smile. “The offer of the rooms is still open. But see if you can’t sort things before you do anything rash.”

  * * *

  They returned to the station, where Calladine called everyone to the incident room for a meeting. It was time to take stock. “Did we get anything from today, no matter how small?”

  Rocco and Nigel conferred quietly together, amidst a general shaking of heads. “No one would say a word,” Rocco confirmed. “Everyone reckoned whoever did it deserved a medal.”

  “Flora Appleton and Hopwood were both stabbed. Are we looking at a link?” Ruth asked.

  Calladine shrugged. “I’m still not sure. There could be one. Dolly was one of the Hopwoods’ clients, and Flora had been seeing Ricky.”

  “And they’d had a falling out — that is if we go with the gossip,” Ruth added. “We haven’t spoken properly to Ricky about Flora yet. We need to do that, soon as. He’ll need treating gently. That young man will be very cut up over what happened.”

  “The CSIs are still going over that deck. They might come up with something,” Nigel added.

  “The Hopwood stabbing happened early, but it was daylight. Folk will have been up and about. I know most of the Hobfield residents are out of work, but they walk the dog, nip out for the morning paper. I can’t believe no one saw anything at all.”

  Ruth shook her head. “Nevertheless, guv, we’re bashing our heads against a brick wall. Even with Sean dead, they still have Ricky to contend with. He is an unknown as yet. But he could turn out to be every bit as bad as his brother. Our best bets are Bernie Logan and Dolly Appleton. They both argued with Hopwood the day before. Remember, Logan got a beating. He isn’t one to let things go. He has a reputation in his own right. He’ll have wanted to get even. His alibi is dodgy too. He reckons Kyle was at home asleep, like him.”

  Rocco looked dubious. “I don’t see what Bernie Logan would have against Flora. He hated Sean Hopwood, but Flora was just a teenage girl.”

  Ruth nodded. “We need to know much more about that young woman’s life. We might get somewhere when forensics have finished analysing the samples from the PM.”

  Calladine made a decision. “Okay. Given we’ve nothing else, we’ll lean on them a little. We’ll bring Bernie Logan and Ricky in for a chat. It would do no harm to speak to those three lads who found the body again, and the Prentice girl.”

  “I’m going to get off,” Ruth told Calladine. “I can’t get my brain in gear since you told me that stuff.”

  Calladine made for the privacy of his office, with Ruth at his heels. The others watc
hed them go, exchanged looks and shrugged. Joyce followed their exit with the eyes of a hawk.

  “It’d do you no harm to pack up early too.” Ruth surveyed his cluttered desk.

  “I want to look through this little lot first.” He pointed to the Jessica Wilkins file. “I think things were missed in the original investigation. We were all so sure the child had been taken from the park that we never considered anything else.” He paused, frowning. “We should have. I think you may be right, Ruth. Jessica might never have been in Leesdon Park that day. Maybe it was all some elaborate ruse to make everyone believe she was.”

  “So what does that mean? What happened to her?”

  “I’ve no idea. But we know she was shot in the head. Of course, we don’t know where that happened.”

  “How do you prove something like that?”

  He sighed. “I’m not sure we can. Julian is looking at the forensics from the time. There were some glasses on the table, and a beaker. One was Josie’s and the beaker belonged to Jessica, but we have no idea about the other two. What that and the photos seem to suggest is that there were two other people in Josie’s flat that afternoon. Two people neither she nor her sister has ever told us about.”

  Chapter 20

  Ricky Hopwood was lost without his brother. Sean might have been a difficult bastard to live with but at least he’d known how to operate the business. The punters were afraid of him. If they didn’t cough up, Sean would lean hard. That soon sorted things.

  Ricky looked at his reflection in the huge mirror in the hallway. He didn’t look in the least bit intimidating. He was too young, too pretty, as Sean used to scoff. No one on that damned estate was going to take him seriously. The punters would walk all over him. They’d take liberties they’d never have dared to with Sean. A show of strength was called for, or this was the end of the moneylending business.

  But what could he do? Sean had never trusted him with the heavy stuff. The trouble with Ricky was that he tended to lose it. He had a quick temper and a low boredom threshold, so he made mistakes.