Chase Down (A Detective Ryan Chase Thriller Book 2)

by M K Farrar

She nodded and looked down at her hands. “I understand, but honestly, I’m here to help. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Her cheeks coloured. “I mean, apart from getting involved with Hugh.”

  “Does anyone else know about what happened between you and Hugh?”

  “No, I didn’t tell anyone. I was embarrassed, to be honest. I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

  “What about your parents? Did they have any idea?”

  “God, no. Just the thought would be mortifying. My dad would have killed him.” She must have realised what she’d said as she clapped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just an expression. My dad wouldn’t hurt anyone, and he definitely wouldn’t have murdered the whole family like that.” Her eyes welled with unshed tears. “Poor people.”

  Even though she’d said her father didn’t know about what had been going on, Ryan still jotted down ‘Mr and Mrs Lewis’ in his notepad. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation to have, but he didn’t have any choice. He imagined if his daughter had lived and got to the age of seventeen, and he found out the forty-something-year-old neighbour had seduced her, it would have been enough of a reason for him to want to go and beat the son of a bitch senseless. Just the thought made anger rise inside him, and Hayley had been dead for years. But that was where the violence would have stopped. He never would have taken a father away from his children, and he certainly wouldn’t have killed an entire family for the father’s mistakes.

  Elouise’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to have to tell him, are you? Please don’t. I never would have come here if I’d thought you’d tell my parents.”

  Ryan let out a sigh and thought for a moment. “How about if I just go and talk to them? Find out where they were the night of the murders, ask your parents’ thoughts on Hugh, test the waters? That kind of thing.”

  Her voice was small. “Okay.”

  Linda would have already spoken to the family, but now they had this new information, it would be done with a new slant. Even if Elouise’s father did have an alibi, it wouldn’t make him completely innocent. Maybe he’d paid someone else to kill Hugh Wyndham but then Liz woke up and the person ended up taking out the whole family to cover his tracks.

  But no, that didn’t fit in with the preparation that was done beforehand—the removal of the mobile phones and jamming the chairs under the bedroom doors to prevent the children from getting out. Whoever killed the family had planned to do so from the start.

  “Where were you the night of the murders?” he asked her.

  “At the cinema with friends until about eleven thirty, then I came home and went to bed. My parents can vouch for me.”

  “How well do your parents know the Wyndhams?”

  She shrugged. “Just like most neighbours, I guess. They say hi, and take in each other’s post, that kind of thing.”

  “Would you have said they were friends?”

  Her face crumpled. “I didn’t come in here to point the finger at my parents. They’re innocent. I just wanted to help you find whoever did this to that poor family.”

  “And I appreciate that you did. You’ve given us a fresh insight into Hugh Wyndham. Maybe there were others—who knows—but at least now we know to look. And I realise this is difficult, but please understand that we need to rule out any possibilities and that’s all we’re going to be doing—ruling your parents out. Like you said, they’re innocent, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Elouise sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Can I go now?”

  “Of course.”

  He’d never forced her to be there—she’d been there purely of her own free will—and yet she’d felt the need to ask. Some people just had a natural inbuilt respect for authority, and he wondered if that was what made her so susceptible to Hugh Wyndham’s advances. He’d been older and, since she’d been babysitting for him, he was also in a way, her boss.

  “Oh,” he stopped her, “one more thing before you go. Did Hugh ever contact you by phone?”

  “Yes, but it’s just a cheap pay as you go. My parents wouldn’t let me have a contract after I ran up a huge bill one time. He phoned me and messaged me all the time while...it was going on.”

  “Can I take your phone number? I need to cross it off a list.”

  He handed her his notepad and pen, and she jotted it down. He was fairly sure that when he cross-checked it with the mystery number Hugh had been calling a few months ago, it would be the same one.

  Ryan saw Elouise out of the building and then got on the phone.

  “Mallory, where are you?”

  “I’ve just been to Conrad’s place of work to ask about those Transit vans.”

  “Any luck?”

  “No. Like I thought, they’re all big lorries here. Smallest one has twelve wheels.”

  At some point, he was going to have to cross Conrad off the list of possible suspects. He knew he was holding back because once he did that, he was left with no one.

  “Okay, thanks for checking. I need you to go around to the Wyndhams’ street and speak to one of the neighbours, Mr and Mrs Lewis at number forty-eight, and reinterview them both.”

  “What’s going on?” A combination of interest and concern was evident in her tone.

  He lowered his voice slightly. “Their daughter, Elouise, has come in saying she had an affair with Hugh Wyndham, six months ago.”

  “Shit. So, they weren’t the perfect family then. You think this might be a revenge killing?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. But can you play things carefully? Get an idea about what they thought of Hugh and put some feelers out about the relationship, without actually coming out and saying it. The daughter really doesn’t want them to know about it, and I’ve told her we’ll do our best to be subtle unless we really have no choice.”

  “Of course. I can be subtle.”

  Ryan paced up and down the corridor. “Find out how much they knew about the house. There’s a chance they would have known the alarm code.” He was about to end the call and then remembered something else Elouise had mentioned. “Oh, one other thing. Did you know that the house was on the market a few months ago?”

  Mallory’s voice came down the line. “No, that didn’t come up anywhere.”

  “Yeah, it was only for a short time. Sheldon kicked off about it, and they changed their minds. They’d been hoping to emigrate to Australia. Ask them about it. I don’t know if it was because of the affair, but the house went on the market not long after it had ended. Maybe the Lewises weren’t happy when the Wyndhams changed their mind about moving, and they decided to take a different route to getting new neighbours.”

  “Like murdering the whole family?” she suggested.

  “That’s what we need to find out.”

  Ryan ended the call and thought about the Wyndham family. They’d been dreaming of another life down under—sunshine, white sandy beaches, and barbeques—but something had changed that. He considered it wistfully.

  They should have gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mallory left the lorry depot and drove to the Wyndhams’ street. She’d been happy to get away from the haulage company. Peter Phipps hadn’t exactly been pleased to see her again.

  Was Ryan right about his idea that someone was already in the house when the family had set the alarm for that night? It did make sense, but the thought of someone hiding in the house while the family went about their business was unnerving. That it ended in their brutal murder was even more chilling.

  The news of the affair changed things. If Elouise’s parents found out about the affair, would it have been enough of a motive for them to want Hugh dead? She couldn’t imagine having a seventeen-year-old daughter, but if Elouise’s father had seen Hugh as an equal and then discovered he’d taken advantage of his teenage daughter, she could see how that might make someone murderous. But even if they planned to murder Hugh, why had they killed the rest of the family? The wife and children were innocent. The only
thing she could think of was that they were trying to cover their tracks, but it must take a cold-hearted son of a bitch to commit a crime like that.

  She pulled into the road and found a parking spot not far from the house. The Lewis house was a couple of doors down from the Wyndhams’, so they hadn’t been adjoining neighbours. They’d obviously known each other well enough, though.

  The police presence remained strong on the street, with the Wyndham house still being a crime scene. A handful of reporters hung around as well, hoping to pick up on a part of the story the other papers might have missed. They all turned to her as she climbed out of her car, but she slammed the door shut, and hit the button to lock the vehicle, and then briskly walked away from the Wyndham house and towards their neighbours’. The reporters must have been from out of town as they clearly didn’t recognise her and perhaps thought she was just someone who lived locally. She ignored their calls of ‘excuse me’.

  She walked up to the Lewis’s front door and rang the bell.

  A couple in their late forties to early fifties answered the door. They both seemed tight-lipped and anxious, as though they were expecting bad news. She guessed having an entire family murdered right next door was enough to leave anyone paranoid.

  “Mr and Mrs Lewis?” Mallory asked, holding up her ID. “I’m DS Lawson. I wondered if I could have a word?”

  The couple exchanged a glance with each other.

  “Oh,” Mrs Lewis started, “we’ve already talked to one of your lot. A DC Quinn.”

  Mallory smiled, conscious of her swollen eye. Was it really noticeable? Would it make the couple less likely to trust her if they saw she was injured? Would they start asking her questions? She hated to think someone might think she was a battered woman.

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said. “We have some follow-up questions. I’m sorry to take up more of your time, but as I’m sure you’re aware, this is a big case, and sometimes things need to be gone back over.”

  Mrs Lewis took a step back. “Well, I suppose that’s okay. You’d better come in then.”

  Mallory entered the house. “Thank you.”

  They showed her into the living room, and everyone sat down.

  Mrs Lewis folded her hands in her lap. “It’s terrible what’s happened. I can hardly believe it. I keep playing over the thought that we were all sleeping in our beds peacefully, completely unaware of what was happening just a few doors away. They must have been so frightened.” She paused and bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure what more I can tell you that I didn’t tell the other detective, though.”

  “I’ll probably have you repeating yourselves,” Mallory said, “but it really is all part of the process, so please just be patient with me.” She turned her head to address Mr Lewis. “How well did you know the Wyndhams?”

  “Fairly well, as far as neighbours go. We’ve been living on the same road for what”—he glanced to his wife for her backup—“six years now?”

  Mrs Lewis nodded. “Yes, about that. We had kids that were around the same age, so it was only natural for us to get friendly.”

  Mallory checked her notes. “Elouise, is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “How well did she and Sheldon know each other?”

  Mrs Lewis pulled a face. “Well, Elouise was in the year above Sheldon, and when you’re a teenager, that year counts, if you know what I mean. Plus, Sheldon wasn’t exactly the sort of person that Elouise hangs around with.”

  “So they weren’t friends?”

  “No, they weren’t. She got on with Darcie better. She used to babysit for Darcie occasionally.”

  “Did she?” Mallory said, as though this was news to her. “How often did she babysit?”

  “Not very often.” Mrs Lewis shrugged. “A couple of times a month, at the most.”

  Mallory wrote that down. “When was the last time she babysat?”

  “Oh, gosh, I can’t remember.” Mrs Lewis turned to her husband. “Can you, sweetheart?”

  Mr Lewis ran his hand over his mouth. “It was a while ago. At least six months, I think.”

  Mallory studied him for any change in body language, any hint that he might be hiding something, but he remained relaxed.

  “Was that normal,” she asked, “for her not to have babysat for so long?”

  He frowned. “Now you mention it, it had been some time, but I assumed that was because Dulcie was getting older. She just started secondary school, so she probably thought she didn’t need babysitting anymore.”

  “That’s understandable.” She focused on Mr Lewis. “How well did you get on with Hugh Wyndham in particular?”

  Was there any reaction? A flicker of guilt or anger? But no, it was more confusion flooding his expression than anything else.

  “Fine, but it’s not as though we were friends.”

  She kept pressing. “Did you have any reason to go over to the Wyndhams when Elouise was babysitting?”

  He frowned. “No, not that I can think of.”

  “But you have been in their house before?”

  One side of his mouth turned down. “I mean, maybe briefly. It’s not like we spent time in each other’s houses or anything.”

  Mallory frowned and pretended to check her notes again. “What about when they went on holiday. Did they ever ask you to keep an eye on the place? Water the plants, that kind of thing?”

  Mrs Lewis spoke up. “Oh, that was me more than my husband. You know how these things are. Always left to the women.”

  Mallory smiled. “Of course. Did they give you a key when you needed to water the plants?”

  “Yes, but I gave it back again as soon as they returned from holiday.”

  “They didn’t want you to hang onto one for them? Sometimes neighbours hold onto each other’s keys in case they get locked out.”

  “No, they obviously didn’t feel the need to do that.”

  Mallory nodded. “And how did Elouise get on with them? Did she ever mention any arguments happening between the Hugh and Liz?”

  The couple exchanged another look.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Mrs Lewis said.

  “What about between Elouise and Hugh or Liz?”

  Mr Lewis’s eyes narrowed. “No, why would they have argued?”

  “Just asking a question,” she said brightly. “Trying to ascertain the relationship between you all.”

  Mrs Lewis put her hand on her husband’s knee as though silently telling him to be calm. “She got on with him fine, as far as I’m aware. Like I said, we all did.”

  Did Mr Lewis have a temper? Was his wife aware of it, and the hand on the knee was her way of telling him not to let it show in front of a detective?

  “Good, that’s good.” Mallory folded her hands in her lap. “Now, let’s get back to the night of the murders. You were home?”

  Mrs Lewis nodded. “Yes, it was just a normal Sunday night. We had a roast dinner, which I always like to do on a Sunday, watched a bit of television, and went to bed.”

  “Together?” Mallory checked.

  They exchanged another confused glance. “Yes, of course together,” Mr Lewis said.

  “What about Elouise? What did she do that evening?”

  Mrs Lewis frowned thoughtfully. “Oh, she was out at the cinema until about eleven thirty. She caught the bus home and went to bed as soon as she got in.”

  “And what happened in the morning?”

  Mr Lewis continued. “We got up, I went to work, as did my wife, and Elouise went into college.”

  “You didn’t have any idea something terrible had happened across the street?”

  “God, no,” Mrs Lewis said. “It wasn’t until Elouise got back from college and saw all the police, and then she phoned us both at work, that we had any idea they were all dead.” She pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “It’s so awful, us all going about our normal days while their bodies just lay there.”

  “But you didn’t see or hear anything
unusual?”

  Mr Lewis was getting irritated. “We keep saying that we didn’t.”

  Mallory switched angles. “What about a white van on the street? A white Ford Transit in particular. Has there been one that might have caught your eye? Think back, even over the past six months or more.”

  Mrs Lewis shrugged. “There are always white vans around, especially now everyone gets everything delivered. I don’t think a day goes by when there isn’t one at some time during the day.”

  “Did Liz Wyndham ever mention thinking that a person driving one was watching her and the house?”

  “No, never.”

  Mallory remembered the question Ryan had wanted her to ask. “Did the Wyndham’s ever talk about wanting to move to Australia? I believe their house was on the market not so long ago.”

  “We saw the for sale sign go up, but then it was practically down again the next day,” said Mrs Lewis. “They never mentioned anything about wanting to move abroad to me, so I guess it was one of those impulsive things that they changed their minds on again pretty quickly.”

  “Was there anything else?” Mr Lewis interrupted. “We really do have to get on.”

  Mallory had asked everything she’d planned to. She rose and brushed down the front of her suit trousers.

  “Of course, I’ll leave you in peace.” She plucked a card from her pocket and handed it to Mr Lewis. “If you think of anything you haven’t mentioned here today, please, pick up the phone.”

  He nodded and gestured towards the door. Mallory obliged, heading out, but paused before she reached the front door.

  “Oh, one last thing,” she said, turning back to them. “Did the Wyndhams ever give you the code to the alarm system when you were watering the plants?”

  She shook her head. “They didn’t have an alarm system installed then. That’s a more recent thing.”

  “Right. Thanks again for your time.”

  Mallory left the house and kept her head down, not wanting to make eye contact with the lurking reporters. She trotted to her car, fished her keys from her jacket pocket, and hit the button to unlock the doors. She slid behind the wheel and took out her phone and called Ryan.