by Rebecca Tope
‘I’m obstructing the course of justice,’ she said proudly, the bandage on her head looking loose and lopsided.
‘I want you to know who shot me,’ she said to Drew. ‘Because it sounds so bizarre, the police will think I’m crazy.’
‘Go on, then,’ he encouraged, taking hold of her hand. ‘Put us out of our suspense.’ He felt light-headed, carefree. Somewhere, the situation was almost funny. Perhaps that was an occupational hazard – funerals could so readily slip into farce; someone almost always managed to say the wrong thing at a moment of high tension. It got so that you expected hysteria to erupt, whenever things got strained.
‘It was Della,’ she said, her voice low. Drew felt a thud of anti-climax, almost disappointment. Karen was crazy, after all.
‘No, darling,’ he corrected. ‘Of course it wasn’t Della.’
‘Yes, it was,’ she insisted, wide-eyed. ‘She stood there, in front of everyone else, looking right at me and Steph, and pushed a gun barrel out from under her anorak. She must have been holding it under her arm, somehow. I never heard the bang, but I saw it. And I saw the look on her face.’
‘But why? Why in a million years would she do that?’
‘I think – and this is the truly awful part – I think she took Stephanie and Timmy with her when she went to kill Peter. I think she left them in the car, went into the public loos with the crossbow and shot him through the window overlooking the square. And I think Stephanie either saw the crossbow, or noticed something – I don’t know – and Della got more and more worried that she’d say something.’
‘But …’ Drew’s mind was working slowly.
‘Yes, I know. It’s awful to think of. Maybe she just wanted to add some new trauma, which would make Steph forget. I still can’t really believe she’d deliberately try to shoot a little girl – a child she’s looked after for over a year. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I decided she’d never liked Steph. And she’s always wanted a girl of her own.’
‘But why would she kill Grafton?’
‘That I don’t know,’ Karen admitted. ‘But Drew – you have to go now, and make sure Stephanie’s all right.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply through her nose.
Horror flooded through him as he remembered. ‘Oh, no!’ he cried, getting to his feet. ‘I’ve just asked Della to go and look after them.’
‘What?’ Even in his haste, he noted her colour fading.
‘Don’t worry, Kaz. I’ll go and make sure she’s OK. You just leave it to me. And don’t get worked up. It’s not good for you.’
She smiled wanly and he tore himself away. The nurse was already hurrying to the bedside. ‘Will she be all right?’ he asked, from the doorway.
‘I’m sure she will,’ came the reply.
He paused in agony. ‘Maybe I could phone someone?’ he said, to the policeman and the nurse together. ‘And stay here.’
The policeman was already heading for the phone that had been dedicated to his use. ‘As you like, sir. I’ll get our people onto it, anyway.’
Drew dithered. Wife – child; child – wife. How in the world could he choose? Karen made it easier for him.
‘Go!’ she repeated. ‘They need you, Drew. Go and bring them back safely. I want to see them when I wake up again.’
Den drove the short distance with the three women chattering like starlings in the car, trying to explain everything to each other. Nobody listened, and little sense was made, beyond the utter conviction that they had identified the killer, and that the Slocombe children were therefore in jeopardy.
They arrived to find the house quiet, and Karen’s car missing from the parking area beside the house.
‘Wait there,’ Den ordered them all. ‘I’ll go and see what’s what.’
Mrs Westlake, rosy-cheeked farmer’s wife, met him at the door, eyebrows raised.
‘Hello?’ she said slowly. ‘It’s my lover boy who walks down the lane.’
‘That’s right,’ he agreed, trying to control his impatience.
‘Might I ask what’s going on, then? Why has Della Gray gone off with little Stephanie the way she has? Nobody said anything about that, when I was asked to come and babysit.’
‘She’s taken Stephanie?’
‘Said you told her her mother wanted her at the hospital, and she’d got to borrow Karen’s car, since her husband had hers. Seemed all right, I s’pose.’ Her tone was doubtful and resentful. ‘Wasn’t too sure about the insurance, mind.’
Den almost howled his alarm and frustration, but controlled himself, knowing he must keep the woman’s goodwill and cooperation. ‘Mrs Westlake – would you be able to carry on here for a while longer, keeping an eye on Timmy? Is he asleep?’
‘He was, until Della showed up. Then he kicked up a fuss and said he wanted to go as well. Fact is, he wanted to go a darn sight more than his sister did. Della ended up carrying her to the car, with all sorts of trouble. Didn’t seem fair, I thought – poor little man, left behind.’
Only then did Den notice a small face peering out from behind Mrs Westlake’s broad hips. ‘Hi, Timmy,’ he said. ‘Are you being a good boy?’
Timmy did not reply.
‘I’ll go and fetch Stephanie back, shall I? And your dad might be home again soon, as well. Best go back to bed, and in the morning it’ll all be just as usual.’
He marvelled at his own facile untruths. But they seemed to have some effect. ‘Come on then, Timothy,’ said Mrs Westlake, turning and shooing him back into the house. ‘Let’s get nice and comfy, shall we?’
Den didn’t wait for any more. He hurried back to the car, and opened the rear door on the driver’s side. ‘Sorry, ladies, but this is just Maggs and me from here on,’ he said firmly. ‘You’re going to have to walk back to your cars. I’ll catch up with you another time.’
Maggs was making her brain work double time. ‘So, is this what happened? Della and Bill are in a foursome with Julie and Peter Grafton. Everybody fancies everybody else, and a bit of wife-swapping might not be out of the question. The men work together, and Peter betrays Bill bigtime. Then he betrays Della, who thinks if he’s going to have a girlfriend, then it’s definitely going to be her, not Sally Dabb. Everybody’s talking about them. Julie’s fobbed off with some garbage. Della flips, and shoots the bloke before he can do any more damage.’
‘A woman scorned,’ Den agreed.
‘But how? She was looking after the four kids that morning. Nobody even considered her as a possible, because of that.’
‘She must have taken them with her. Left them in the car, probably.’
‘And Stephanie saw something. Or heard something. Enough for Della to worry that she’d give the game away.’
‘Right.’
‘Because we know – don’t we – that she wasn’t aiming that gun at Karen at all. It was Stephanie she meant to shoot.’
‘Assuming that was Della as well,’ he cautioned. ‘That’s a bit of a leap.’
Maggs shook her head. ‘It was her,’ she said. ‘And I bet I know where the weapon is, too.’
‘Weapon?’
‘Sorry – weapons. Call Danny again, and see if they’ve stopped that BMW yet.’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked a minute later.
‘Nowhere in particular. We’re just keeping a lookout for her.’
‘We should be able to work it out,’ Maggs sighed. ‘There has to be some clue we’ve missed.’
They each puzzled silently, while Den drove along the main road for a few miles, in a westerly direction. A sign pointing to the left saying FERNGATE seemed to trigger a thought in Den’s mind.
‘Mary Thomas!’ he said. ‘The glaring loose end in this whole mess.’
‘Hmmm?’ Maggs only half attended. ‘Why Mary Thomas?’
‘Because she’s been much too quiet and invisible these past few days. And nobody mentions her. As if there’s a conspiracy to make us forget all about her.’
�
�OK,’ Maggs shrugged. ‘Any hunch is better than none.’
Den swerved recklessly into the small road, with little time to slow down before doing so.
‘Yes!’ he crowed, as they entered the pretty compact little village. Karen’s car was clearly parked outside ‘Cherry Blossoms’.
‘Call Danny,’ Maggs ordered him. ‘This is no time for heroics. And I’m going to call Drew. Let’s hope he’s not still in the hospital, or the mobile won’t be switched on.’
Den was more successful than Maggs in making his call. Drew’s phone rang, but he didn’t respond. ‘I bet he’s left it at home,’ she tutted irritably. ‘I’ll do him a text message – though I doubt if he’ll see it.’
Steph with della and mary thomas. Frngate. Will keep u posted.
Den was too late to stop her sending it. ‘What good’s that going to do?’ he demanded. ‘It’ll drive him even more frantic.’
‘I just thought he should be kept up to date,’ she pouted. ‘It’s his kid, after all.’
‘So what now?’ he asked. ‘Do we just sit here?’
‘We do,’ she said firmly. ‘And hope they don’t notice us.’
‘Until the cavalry arrive?’
‘Something like that.’
He let her think she was making the important decisions. Den had developed a knack of allowing Maggs to assume control. It oiled their relationship miraculously.
‘This is fun, isn’t it,’ she said after a minute or two. ‘You and I haven’t done this before – not really. Though I must admit that this time there isn’t the same adrenalin rush. I just can’t believe Della would do anything to actually harm Stephanie.’
‘I wish I had your confidence,’ he said. ‘I’m only staying out here because I think it would make things worse to rush her. I’m not at all sure about her mental state.’
‘And Mary Thomas? Is she going to be a calming influence?’ Den gave this some consideration. ‘Probably,’ he concluded.
The police arrived with the most admirable circumspection. No sirens, nothing to indicate the sudden presence of six officers, two of them armed. They were just there, from one moment to the next. Maggs gave a stifled squawk as they loomed out of the dark and surrounded the car.
‘Two women and a kiddie in there, is that right?’ Danny asked Den, with perfect professionalism.
‘As far as we know,’ Den confirmed. ‘We haven’t actually seen anybody.’
‘And we have the strong suspicion that one of the women is the killer of Mr Grafton, and is the same person who attempted to kill Mrs Slocombe?’
‘That’s right,’ said Den. ‘A very strong suspicion.’
‘Right.’
‘I don’t think she has a firearm with her. I’m almost certain she hasn’t,’ Den added. ‘And we believe the second woman will be entirely cooperative. She’s on our side.’
‘Or so we think,’ interjected Maggs. ‘That might be wrong.’
‘OK.’
Detective Superintendent Hemsley mobilised his team. They moved on the house, back and front simultaneously. Den listened for sounds of doors being kicked in, shouts, screams, even shots. There was nothing. He and Maggs stood beside their car and strained their ears.
Then a group of people came out of the front door, as if assembling for a funeral party. A woman police detective was carrying Stephanie. Maggs ran up to her. ‘Hey, Steph,’ she greeted the child. ‘Are you OK?’
Stephanie wriggled in the woman’s arms. ‘Put me down,’ she said.
‘I think she’d be best coming with me,’ Maggs said. The policewoman looked dubious. The threat of conflict was averted by the arrival of Drew in the Peaceful Repose van. Maggs recognised the engine sound before anyone else even noticed. ‘Here’s her Daddy, anyhow,’ she said.
Den was standing in front of Della. ‘You killed Peter Grafton,’ he said.
‘Hey, steady on!’ Hemsley cautioned him. ‘That’s not the way to do it. Surely you haven’t forgotten?’
Della said nothing, but Mary Thomas stepped forward. ‘I’m afraid she did,’ she said. ‘It’s all most dreadfully sad.’
‘And you? Where do you fit into the story?’ Den demanded.
‘I don’t think this is quite the time or place, do you?’ she replied, with some gentleness. ‘Let’s just say I’ve followed developments fairly closely.’
‘Just tell me this,’ he insisted, with a glance at Maggs to ensure she could hear. ‘Have you or haven’t you really got a twin sister?’
For reply, another woman stepped from out of the shadowy porch of the house. She was a greyer, plumper version of Mary, the facial features identical. ‘I’m Simone,’ she said, in a voice lacking any trace of an accent. ‘I think that answers your question, doesn’t it?’
Den realised that it did no more than unleash a further long list of enquiries, but he merely nodded and turned to where Drew and Stephanie were enjoying a happy reunion.
Della was inserted into the back seat of a police car and driven away. Hemsley led Den to a point below the one and only village street lamp, and gave him a severe look. ‘I don’t believe you kept me very well informed on all this,’ he accused. ‘If it hadn’t been for DC Plover at the hospital confirming that Mrs Slocombe had clearly accused Mrs Gray, I don’t know that I’d have believed you when you called this evening.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ said Den. ‘For Stephanie’s sake.’
‘Would she really have hurt Steph?’ Maggs asked in a low voice. Drew and the child were not far away.
‘Who can say?’ shrugged Hemsley. ‘But I might just mention that she was relieved of a rather nasty knife just now. The sort of knife you’d expect to find in the pocket of a mugger or a street gang member. It suggests she meant business.’
Maggs winced. ‘Why did she come to Mary Thomas’s, then? Surely Mary would never have allowed her to harm Stephanie?’
Den cleared his throat. ‘I think I know the answer to that,’ he said. ‘Mary Thomas was Della’s mother’s best friend. They’ve always been special to each other. The story about the twin sister being the person Karen saw at the supermarket was pure fabrication. Karen did see Mary there – and she had just set that bomb to explode. What’s more, Stephanie had seen her as well. I think you’ll find they were checking on whether the child recognised her. If so, then Mary would have reason to collude in her disposal.’
Maggs winced again, and Hemsley uttered a low moan. ‘An innocent witness – one of the most dangerous situations to be in,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Thank God it never happened.’
‘You can say that again,’ chimed Maggs, watching Drew clasping his daughter tightly to him, while telling her that her Mummy would be fine, and very soon everything was going to be all right.
Karen took a whole day to resurface again. In the meantime the hospital had scanned and tested and concluded that there was some permanent damage to her brain, which was likely to lead to some dispraxia, at least for the foreseeable future.
‘Dispraxia?’ Drew echoed. ‘You mean she won’t be able to walk?’
‘She will walk, but probably jerkily. Carrying things will be difficult. Writing, sewing, small movements – they’ll all be compromised.’
‘Gardening?’ Drew asked faintly.
‘Probably that will be possible,’ came the wary response.
When she did finally start talking again, the first thing she said was, ‘It must have had something to do with Timmy’s knee.’
‘That’s right!’ Drew said. ‘It seems that he actually knelt on the crossbow, and Della went mad. Shouted at him, and pulled the thing away so violently, he fell over. Then she was all apologies, kissing and cuddling him. Stephanie and Tim both found the whole business bewildering. They didn’t know what the crossbow was, and Della quickly packed it away in a big blue canvas bag.’
‘Steph knew it was canvas?’ Karen’s woozy brain seemed intent on picking up minor details. Drew struggled to remain patient.
‘No, no. T
he police found it last night. As well as the gun. It was Justin Henderson’s converted Brocock.’
‘Uh-h-h?’
‘Sorry. You don’t need to know about that.’
‘Justin? Hilary’s boy? But I saw the gun. He fired it when I was there.’
‘So I gather. Hilary told me. She also admitted that she was so angry with him, afterwards, that she took the gun away from him. Then she left it in the back of the car when she went to Grafton’s funeral. She never dreamt it was loaded, or so she claims. Just snatched it and then never got around to doing anything with it. When she realised what had happened she thought Justin had crept up at the funeral and shot Karen. So she pretended the gun had been stolen.’
‘Hilary?’ Karen was barely keeping up.
‘I don’t think Della really intended to do anything at the funeral. But she saw the gun, sticking out from under a blanket, and just took it, as we were all going down to the church. She had it under her coat when we processed back. The thing is, Bill saw her shoot you. He grabbed Della, and rushed her along to get their boys. Afterwards, she admitted the whole thing, and he decided to dump both weapons, yesterday.’
Karen sighed. ‘So that’s the whole story, is it?’
‘Except for Archie and Sally,’ he remembered.
‘Tell me.’
‘For much of yesterday, Sally was crying about Peter Grafton, and Archie was getting more and more angry with her. In the end he hit her. She ran out of the house, saying she never wanted to live with him again. I don’t know where she was going, but she took the car and headed down towards us. He didn’t try to follow her, but sat down to try and think it all through.
‘He’s a builder, you know. He never bothered much with the Food Chain or any of that – but he was well up with all the local gossip. He knew what people were saying about Sally and Peter. But they didn’t know that he and Sally hadn’t been living as husband and wife for ages – or so she told Julie and Della.’
