Dying To Tell

by Beevis, Keri

  ‘What was the name of the Cambridge school Jessica mentioned?’

  ‘King’s House.’

  She sat back up again, the lightning bolt hitting.

  ‘King’s House, Queen’s House: they’re sister schools, Jack.’

  He looked amused. ‘I know. Have you only just figured that out?’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Queen’s House is all female and King’s House is all male. My mum and stepdad toyed with sending Oliver there to board.’ Lila must have looked crestfallen because he added as encouragement, ‘Keep thinking though.’

  ‘So if King’s House is the all-male school, The Bishop has to be there.’

  ‘That’s what I’m thinking, but we’ll never narrow it down without extra help, which is why we need to get into Steph’s tablet. That’s the key.’

  ‘Is there a website though? We should at least look.’

  ‘I already glanced through the staff page and there weren’t any names that stuck out. We need more to go on to be able to narrow it down, but if you want to look, knock yourself out.’

  Jack was right. They would never narrow it down, but stubbornly, Lila picked up her iPad anyway, did a Google search for the school. She scrolled through the staff page, the names meaning nothing. There were several male teachers and any one of them could have been Steph’s blackmailer. Frustrated, she clicked on the history link, reading about the origins of the school, the information surprising her. Still, she was a little more reserved this time when she spoke. ‘I’m guessing you know there are two other schools in the group.’

  ‘There are?’ Jack sat up, snatched the iPad from her.

  ‘According to this there’s a Knight’s House in Nottinghamshire and Bishop’s House in Suffolk.’

  He brooded on that briefly. ‘Bishop’s House.’ She saw the moment that the penny dropped. ‘The Bishop. Damn it, Lila. We’re looking at the wrong school.’

  She watched over his shoulder as he clicked on to the Bishop’s House website, another all-male school located just outside the town of Bungay. As with the King’s House School, the home page contained a welcome message from the headmaster.

  She skim read it as Jack scrolled down the page, her mouth dry, heartbeat quickening as she reached the end, saw the sign-off on the greeting, recognised the photograph.

  Richard Gruger.

  28

  Had Richard Gruger been the one blackmailing Stephanie?

  It was logical to assume that The Bishop would come from Bishop’s House School, and they knew Stephanie had been in contact with him, plus it was one hell of a coincidence that she had been in Filby on the night of the accident, several miles from home, yet just a few metres from Gruger’s doorstep. Was Gruger The Bishop?

  The man was arrogant enough; had been a reluctant hero saving Lila, preferring to keep his head down, out of the media spotlight. Something he would do if he had secrets he needed to keep hidden. Plus there was the whole control thing with his wife and kid, the way he spoke down to them, not treating them as equals. He certainly had all the signs of a sociopath.

  Jack had no proof though; nothing of any worth that he could go to the police with. If Elliot’s friend could get them into Steph’s tablet, Jack was certain they would find the answers they needed. He was going to pick Lila up when her shift finished at six and they planned to head over to Norwich to meet with Dave. Hopefully he was as good as Lila said he was and would be able to help them.

  Unable to focus on his book, Jack spent an hour googling Gruger, trying to find everything he could about him. There was frustratingly little. The man really was private. He grew up in Oxfordshire, had remained local, marrying Judith Winter when they were both still young. Aaron was their only child. From what Jack could see, Judith came from a wealthy family: her father owning a chain of jewellery stores. The family had stayed in Oxfordshire for several years before leaving for East Anglia. The move appeared to be abrupt. In one article, Gruger was talking about his plans for the future at the school where he was headmaster then just six weeks later, he was announced as the new headmaster at Bishop’s House School. Had he wanted a change or had something happened to pre-empt the decision? From what Jack could find on Judith Gruger, family was everything to her. Why would they up sticks and move to somewhere where they knew no-one?

  With plenty to ponder on, Jack found it difficult to concentrate on his manuscript. He forced a few words out then decided, fuck it, and went downstairs to grab Cooper’s lead, figuring that a long walk might get his brain into a better gear. He had just locked up when his phone rang. Ignoring an impatient Cooper he glanced at the screen, seeing Lila’s name, and hoped Giles hadn’t shown up again.

  ‘Hey, everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, no… I think so.’

  ‘Giles hasn’t–’

  ‘No, he hasn’t come back.’

  Thank God. Jack was still trying to confront him about what happened with Lila, but Giles – who had obviously been warned by Alyssa that her brother was baying for his blood – was conveniently avoiding his calls. If he hadn’t manned up by the weekend, Jack intended to drive over to the house and have it out with him. Lila might have calmed down some, but he wasn’t prepared to let what had happened slide.

  ‘Listen, Jack. Do you mind if we go to see Dave a little bit later?’

  ‘Why, what’s up?’

  ‘Veronica Crowther is who’s up.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Remember the mother of the bride, the job I was unsure about? She wants to meet and she’s insisting it has to be today as she’s about to go on holiday. She only lives half a mile down the road from the café so I figured I could call in after work, get it over and done with. Beth said she would drop me off and I was hoping you could pick me up from her house.’

  ‘If you’re sure you really want this job. She sounds a pain in the arse.’

  ‘I need the work, Jack. I can’t afford to turn wedding gigs away.’

  ‘Okay, how long do you think you’ll need?’

  ‘Probably an hour. I’ll text you the address. If you pick me up about seven.’

  Her text came through after they ended the call. Jack glanced at the address, slipped his phone back in his pocket before unleashing Cooper and throwing his favourite ball.

  Jack spent a pleasant couple of hours walking down to the sea, letting the dog frolic in the waves, thinking that once Lila had her cast off he would bring her down here one evening and they could sit together on the beach and watch the sun set over the sea, share a bottle of wine, maybe more if there was no-one else around.

  Back at the house, Jack finally found his mojo, fingers burning on the keyboard, and for a blessed couple of hours, he lost himself in the book, thoughts of Stephanie, Richard Gruger and the odious Giles pushed to the back of his mind.

  When Jack finally came up for air, he glanced at the time, saw it was five thirty. Saving his manuscript, he stretched at the knots in his shoulders, figured he had time for a shower and to feed Cooper before heading over to this Veronica Crowther’s place to pick up Lila.

  Lying on the bedroom floor, exhausted from his walk, Cooper’s ears pricked up, large brown eyes glancing up expectantly at Jack. The bloody dog was telepathic, he swore.

  He pulled out his phone, checked the address again that Lila had sent him, put it in Google. His satnav would tell him where he was going, but still he was curious to see where the woman lived. The house was huge and secluded, less than a mile from the centre of Cromer, surrounded by a high hedgerow and a long narrow driveway. Veronica Crowther had money and he hoped she would make it worth Lila’s while and not mess her around.

  On a whim he clicked on to Facebook, looked up Lila for the first time, figuring since they were sleeping together, he should ping her a friend request. After doing so, he clicked onto her photography page, spent a few minutes looking through her photos. She really was talented and some of her pictures of the North Norfolk coastline were breathtaking. He spotted
one, a golden sunset over the sea, the waves glistening in the dying light as they crashed against the beach. It would go well downstairs on the wall behind the sofa. Maybe he would speak to Lila about buying it.

  She had albums of the weddings she had shot. Jack preferred the scenic stuff, guessed she did too, but understood that this was where she made money. He clicked through a handful of pictures, was about to logout when he spotted Veronica Crowther’s name in the comments below. She popped up on a handful of the pictures with mostly generic comments, such as, ‘This is lovely’, or ‘Simply beautiful’. She didn’t sound like that much of a pain in the arse.

  He clicked on to Veronica’s profile. The privacy settings were high and it didn’t give much away. One profile picture of a smartly dressed redhead, her hair swept up under a hat, sipping bubbly. Her friend list was hidden and there were no comments or likes on the picture. He clicked on photos, saw there was just one more: Veronica with a younger woman, probably the daughter due to get married.

  There was nothing to see; nothing to tell him what Veronica Crowther was really like. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he logged off Facebook, went downstairs to feed Cooper then left the dog eating while he had a shower.

  As he stood under the hot spray, something niggled in the back of his brain, something that didn’t feel quite right, and it annoyed him he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Back in the bedroom, he threw on jeans and a T-shirt, scrubbed a towel over his hair then pushed the damp mess out of his eyes. Cooper had snuck his way back upstairs and was lying at the foot of the bed. He gave Jack a grin and thumped his tail.

  ‘Something’s off, Coop.’

  He sat back down at his desk again, pulled up Facebook. This time he didn’t logon to Veronica Crowther’s profile via Lila’s photography page, he typed her name in the search box, blinked sharply when he saw the two top listed women with that name shared the same profile picture. He clicked on the top Veronica. It was the profile he had looked at before he showered. Just two pictures and, according to Facebook, both uploaded a day earlier.

  He scrolled down her timeline, past the two photos, trepidation knotting his gut when he spotted the date Veronica Crowther had joined Facebook. The day before.

  Furiously, he clicked back to the list, looked at the identical profile below. This one was far more detailed. Tons of friends, comments and photos, some recognisable local shots but the most recent were posted from Australia – the previous day. The real Veronica Crowther holding a koala.

  He had to warn Lila.

  * * *

  Despite telling Beth to drop her at the end of the driveway of the Crowther residence, her friend insisted on taking her up to the house, and Lila was glad when she realised how long and winding the driveway was. This house really was secluded.

  She hoped Jack wouldn’t have a problem finding it, as she and Beth had struggled, driving past the entrance twice.

  The family had to be loaded to afford a place like this and Lila hoped Veronica wasn’t going to be one of those rich but incredibly tight women that she so often encountered. It had never failed to amaze her that sometimes the people with the most to give held on to it meanly while those who counted on every penny were unfailingly generous.

  She thanked Beth for the lift, waved her goodbye. Her friend hadn’t let Jack off the hook yet for what Giles had done. Although she had warmed up to being coolly polite to him, she was having her doubts whether he was right for Lila, convinced he was going to break her heart.

  Lila didn’t point out to her that it was already too late for that.

  As the car disappeared around a bend, she glanced around her, aware of how quiet it was out in the countryside. She couldn’t even hear the sound of any traffic once Beth’s car was far enough away. Feeling an unexplained shiver come over her, Lila headed to the front door, eager to get this visit over with.

  The doorbell announced her arrival, the sound reverberating into the heart of the house. She waited patiently, half expecting a maid to answer the door.

  Seconds ticked into minutes and reluctantly, she pushed the bell again. The thing made such a racket it would be impossible to not hear and she didn’t want to piss off a potential client by seeming too impatient.

  While she waited, she glanced around again. There were no cars in the driveway, just a white van parked by the garage. Of course Veronica’s car would most likely be something posh and shiny and would be locked in the garage, away from the elements.

  Lila waited on the doorstep, couldn’t help the ominous feeling rising in her gut. The woman had insisted on meeting her here this evening. Okay, Lila was a few minutes early, but still, why wouldn’t Veronica be here? It made no sense. Something was off and Lila couldn’t quite figure out what.

  For a moment, she wished she had asked Beth to stay, told herself she was being stupid and overreacting. Given everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks though it was understandable that she was jumping to conclusions.

  A rustling came from the trees behind the van and Lila thought she heard footsteps. Maybe Veronica had gone for a walk. She had told Lila six o’clock and that was still ten minutes away.

  ‘Hello?’

  Lila was met by silence.

  ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ She sounded a little less confident this time, which annoyed her, as she hesitantly hopped towards the van, convinced she was overreacting and it was nothing. Still her legs shook as she neared. She cautiously stepped past the van; saw no-one was there or hiding in the trees. She must have imagined it.

  Feeling a little stupid, she turned to go back to the house, paused when she heard her phone ringing in her bag.

  It was Jack. She noted with concern she had already had two missed calls from him. Hoped he was okay.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Lila, don’t go to meet Veronica Crowther.’

  ‘I’m already here, Jack.’

  ‘Are you with her?’

  ‘No. No-one’s answering the door.’

  ‘Listen to me. She’s not who she says she is; the real Veronica Crowther is on holiday in Australia. Someone lured you there.’

  ‘What?’ Lila tried to digest his words. ‘But her daughter’s getting married. She seemed so genuine. Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. Where are you? Are you still outside the house?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I want you to walk down the driveway. Get away from the house and back to the road.’

  ‘Jack, you’re scaring me.’

  ‘You’re going to be fine. I’ve called the police and I’m on my way. Just get to the road. Promise me you will.’

  ‘You called the police?’

  ‘Yes! The road, Lila, go now.’

  ‘I–’

  Lila heard the footsteps behind her, but barely had time to react as something heavy hit her hard between the shoulder blades. She dropped her phone and both the crutches, fell to her knees as pain blasted through her, followed swiftly by a wave of nausea.

  Her hands hit gravel and she was aware of the sting, her head swimming as she tried to take on board what was happening.

  As her vision swam back into focus, everything went black.

  Someone had hold of her and the blackness was suffocating, smelt old and stale. To her horror, she realised she had a hood over her head.

  Survival instinct took over as she kicked and fought, her screams muffled by the hood. She recalled being pushed in front of the bus, the man standing over her in her bedroom. Whoever had orchestrated this elaborate set up meant to kill her, she was certain.

  Her foot connected with bone and she heard a grunt, felt her attacker’s grip loosen.

  She tried to clamber to her feet, pain shooting through her broken leg, and she cried out, falling forward.

  The man had hold of her again, was trying to wrench her arms behind her back. She heard yelling then the weight was gone and she was alone on the ground.

  Through the thickness of the ho
od, she heard the faint shuffle of footsteps crunch against the gravel, the sound of an engine being floored. She yanked at the hood with shaking hands. It had some kind of drawstring that had tightened around her neck and she scrambled to find it, panicking when hands touched her, screaming again and lashing out.

  ‘It’s okay, love, it’s okay. You’re safe.’

  The hood loosened and was pulled from her head. Lila blinked, her heart racing, as she stared at a man before her. Middle-aged, ruddy faced, kind eyes. She noticed the van was gone, but a Range Rover was in its place. This man, had he saved her? She tried to speak, found it a struggle.

  ‘I was coming down the driveway, saw him sat on top of you.’ The man looked shaken himself, as though what had happened was only starting to sink in. ‘I… I should call the police, love.’

  Lila heard the sirens in the distance, forced herself to take another deep breath.

  Her voice shook badly when she spoke. ‘They’re already on their way.’

  29

  Frustratingly, Ted Crowther was unable to give the police much information about Lila’s attacker, but what he could confirm was the man had been wearing a hood, leaving little doubt it was the same person who had pushed her in front of the bus and who had broken into her flat on the Saturday night. Jack was pleased the police were starting to take Elliot Amberson’s claim that someone had attacked her at the hospital more seriously, accepting that someone was trying to hurt her and this time had gone to elaborate lengths to do so, might have succeeded if Veronica’s brother hadn’t stopped by to water her plants.

  They already had more to work with, a description of the van and the fake Facebook profile. Whoever the man was, he had to somehow be connected to the real Veronica, the lady who owned the house Lila had been lured to, in order to know she was away.

  After the paramedics had checked Lila over, the police agreed to Jack’s request to take her home, telling him they would stop by to talk with her the following morning. She was badly shaken, just about holding it together, and didn’t protest when he helped her into the car, fastened her seat belt for her.