Dead and Buried

by Anne Cassidy

  ‘A butterfly?’

  ‘Yes. Weird.’

  Rose hugged herself. She thought of Brendan with a cringing feeling. He had a butterfly tattooed on his ankle.

  ‘You know the worst thing about all this? At first I really thought she’d gone off with a boyfriend. I had a to hell with her kind of attitude. Then after a couple of weeks when we didn’t hear anything I began to get worried. She was too much of a show-off not to come round flaunting her independence or parading her holiday photos or whatever. After that first anniversary I got really depressed, couldn’t get up for work, that kind of thing. But because they never found a body I convinced myself that she must be alive, living somewhere else, that she’d just washed her hands of us and I got on with my life. Then a couple of weeks ago this policewoman came to my mother’s house. I was there at the time. She came in and said to my mother, Don’t upset yourself, Mrs Lincoln, but we think we’ve found Daisy’s body.’

  Rose felt her phone vibrate. She ignored it.

  ‘Esther, thank you. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your sister. I have to go now.’

  Rose walked towards the door.

  ‘One thing,’ Esther said, just as she was leaving, ‘Daisy told me her boyfriend was a landlord, which made him sound about sixty years old.’

  ‘A property developer? That kind of thing?’ Rose said.

  ‘She just said landlord. That’s all.’

  Rose felt her mouth go dry. A landlord.

  Esther looked at her quizzically. ‘Are you all right?’

  Hadn’t her mother told her that James Munroe had been their landlord. That he had owned 49 Brewster Road?

  ‘I’m sorry, Esther, I have to go,’ Rose said. ‘I hope your baby makes you very happy.’

  She walked swiftly out of the building. Once outside she took her phone out. She had a message from Joshua. She read it in a distracted way. Where R U? I’m out of the police station now. The lawyer was great. Thank your gran. Am back at the flat. Come round.

  James Munroe had been their landlord. He had a key to their house. He knew when her mother and Brendan were away. Was he was Daisy’s older boyfriend, the man driving the green Saab?

  Overwhelmed, she sat on the brick wall of a front garden. She stared at her mobile phone. Then she found her mother’s number and composed a text, her fingers jabbing at the letters, missing now and then so that she had to go back and correct it. Mum, please just answer this question. Then I won’t contact you again today. It’s important. Did James Munroe ever own a Saab car?

  She waited. Maybe her mother wouldn’t answer, would just dismiss her message without even opening it up. Possibly she would think that it was another appeal from Rose for her not to go ahead with the events that evening.

  A beep sounded. It was a text from her. She opened it. I asked you not to contact me!! But anyway, yes. James owned a green Saab car. No more messages. Not today.

  Rose felt a heavy weight on her shoulders.

  Whenever they started uncovering secrets James Munroe seemed to be at the heart of them. She stood and walked in the direction of the tube station.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Joshua was agitated. He kept walking up and down the kitchen of the Camden flat. He told her about the interview with DI Clarke at the police station and the intervention of the lawyer. ‘They were never going to charge me with anything,’ he said. ‘It was just a fishing trip. The lawyer knew it. DI Clarke knew it. That’s why they had to let me go.’

  He seemed relieved to be home yet he couldn’t stay still.

  Then she told him what she had found out about James Munroe.

  He was surprised, shocked. She explained the things she’d heard from Daisy’s sister and what her mother had said about the car.

  ‘I just can’t get my head round it,’ he said, sitting down at the table, leaning back in the chair, using his hand to massage the back of his neck.

  Rose sat opposite him. She could hardly believe it herself.

  ‘It makes sense. James Munroe was the older boyfriend. Daisy told her sister that he was a landlord. Well, in a way he was. He owned the house we lived in in Brewster Road.’

  ‘I never knew that,’ Joshua said.

  ‘Neither did I until yesterday. That’s why he came to my gran’s house after Daisy’s body was found. He said that he’d heard about it from the press but he must have been contacted by the police. He owned the house in 2007. They would have wanted to speak to him. That’s how he knew what had happened.’

  ‘You think he took Daisy there?’

  ‘He would have had access to it. Keys for the house. He also knew the times when Mum and Brendan weren’t going to be there. He knew that you and I would be staying over with friends. It was an empty house where he could take his young girlfriend.’

  ‘But he didn’t live round here. How did he meet her, hook up with her?

  ‘He was visiting Brendan and Mum? Maybe he just chatted to her out in the street. She might have been with Sandy and Sandy spoke to Brendan. Then he saw her in the newsagent’s or pulled up in his car and asked her the way. I don’t know.’

  It was what Rose had been puzzling about all the way back from Walthamstow. How had Munroe met up with Daisy Lincoln? Munroe had still been a policeman then. Had she come into contact with him in that way?

  ‘But I never knew Munroe so he couldn’t have come to the house.’

  Rose had never seen him either. Not before her parents went missing. She would have remembered a visit from him, she was sure. But then she had never seen Frank Richards either.

  ‘Maybe, once The Butterfly Project started, they avoided going to each other’s houses.’

  ‘Except that Munroe used the house for somewhere to take his girlfriend.’

  ‘But wouldn’t someone have seen them going in?’

  ‘He used the back gate? Or waited until it was dark?’

  ‘And the cottage in Stiffkey.’

  ‘Daisy was eighteen. Why would she be interested in a man of his age?’

  Joshua said it with distaste. Rose remembered his infatuation for her, the crush he had had.

  ‘How old is Munroe?’

  ‘In his forties? Forty-five?’

  ‘This was six years ago next August. Munroe would have been in his late thirties then. It’s not unheard of for a man of that age to get involved with a young woman,’ she said.

  ‘He was married.’

  ‘This could be why he and Margaret Spicer are splitting up.’

  ‘He killed her, Rosie. It wasn’t an accident.’

  Rose was quiet. Joshua was right. It couldn’t have been an accident. Daisy had had her hands tied behind her back.

  ‘He used my dad’s tie to stop her struggling,’ Joshua said thoughtfully.

  Rose watched as he got up, walked across to the window and looked down into the street. He had his back to her. She wondered what he was thinking.

  ‘Do you think he tried to set my dad up?’ he suddenly said.

  Rose didn’t answer straight away. She pictured Munroe in his smart clothes, in his apartment by the river. She remembered how cold he had been in Newcastle. Then a week or so before he had hurt her hand and threatened her parents with an ugly end.

  ‘Deliberately make it look as though Dad killed her?’ Joshua went on, turning round to face her.

  ‘Why would he? He was his friend. They were involved in The Butterfly Project together.’

  ‘He used Dad’s tie, though. He could have taken it off the girl’s hands afterwards, disposed of it but he left it there. And he buried Daisy in Dad’s garden. He could have waited until dark and taken her body away.’

  ‘Maybe he panicked?’

  ‘That grave took a long time to dig. There was no panic there.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘So he could never get charged with it?’

  ‘And if the grave was found someone else would be suspected?’

  Joshua swore gently, under his breath. ‘
So Munroe gets away with Daisy’s murder as well as Skeggsie.’

  ‘No. He won’t get away with it. Let’s go and see him,’ Rose said. ‘I know he won’t get arrested for it but maybe we could get something out of this. Something that will help Mum and Brendan.’

  But it won’t help Daisy, Rose thought, but didn’t say it.

  They took the Mini and drove to Surrey Quays and parked a couple of streets away from Munroe’s flat. They talked for a few moments going over the things they were going to say. Then they got out of the car and walked through the tiny square across to the building that had once been a primary school. It was the second primary school building that Rose had been in that day. She rang his bell. His voice came through the speaker, curt.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s Rose and Joshua. We need to speak to you.’

  There was a sigh from Munroe.

  ‘I’m going out shortly. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, my dear Rose, it will have to. I have an important engagement tonight . . .’

  ‘It’s about Daisy Lincoln,’ Rose said.

  There was silence. Rose was about to repeat herself when the speaker clicked off and the wooden gate began to slide open. Rose and Joshua walked inside and headed up to Munroe’s apartment. When they got out of the lift Munroe was standing at his front door and stared sullenly at both of them as they walked along the passageway. When they got to his door he stepped back a fraction making them both squeeze past him.

  There was music playing. It was low, classical. It was like something Anna would play while she was having breakfast. On the table Munroe’s things were laid out – cufflinks, rings, a coin purse, wallet, phone. There was a thick white card with gold embossed print. Over the back of one of the chairs were three ties. A jacket hung over another. Munroe hadn’t been lying when he said he was going out somewhere. Joshua picked up the white card and read it out loud.

  ‘The Metropolitan Police Senior Officers’ Reunion. An invitation to James Munroe. Please attend the Barnaby Suite at the Royal Swan Hotel, Hyde Park. Drinks at nine p.m. Lounge suits. This doesn’t start until nine. You have plenty of time.’

  ‘I have someone else to see beforehand,’ he said tersely.

  ‘We’re just wondering how you actually met Daisy Lincoln?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The girl who you had an affair with.’

  ‘You are referring to the girl whose body was found?’

  ‘Let’s not waste time. I saw her get into your car. A green Saab. I didn’t know it was your car at the time . . .’

  ‘Is this a joke?’

  ‘I saw her.’

  ‘I am not the only person in London to have owned a green Saab . . .’

  ‘And a cottage in Stiffkey.’

  ‘The landlord of the Brewster Road house.’

  ‘A man with a tattoo of a butterfly. I’m assuming you have the tattoo!’

  ‘This is ridiculous.’

  ‘It’s true. Why don’t you just explain it to us? There’s no point in lying. It’s not like we can go to the police with the information. The law doesn’t apply here. You’ve told us that already. You know where Mum and Brendan are going. You hold their future in your hands. We’ve got nothing on you.’

  ‘Then why can’t you both leave things alone?’

  Rose stared at Munroe. She suddenly thought of the day Margaret Spicer had come to her college. She’d sat in the silver SUV and heard her speak sadly about him.

  ‘Did Margaret Spicer find out about you and Daisy? Is that why she left you?’

  Munroe’s expression cracked. He seemed upset.

  ‘She must have heard about the discovery of the body.’ Rose continued. ‘Maybe she saw a picture of the dead girl in the newspapers. She recognised her, didn’t she? From 2007? She’d seen you together.’

  Munroe looked down at the ground. Then, seconds later, he seemed to straighten up. He picked up one of his cufflinks and began to put it on. He fiddled with it, pulling the cuffs together awkwardly.

  ‘Margaret knows, doesn’t she? That’s why she came to see me. She wanted me to know that she wasn’t involved in Skeggsie’s death. She never intended that Skeggsie should die. That’s what she wanted to tell me because she knew that what happened to Daisy was intended. That you meant to kill her. Margaret knew. As soon as Daisy’s body was discovered she knew you’d killed her.’

  ‘Why do you meddle!’ Munroe said, folding his cuff back and picking up the second cufflink. ‘The girl came for a job at Margaret’s security company. Margaret was out that day. I interviewed her. Sadly she was too young to work for us. I told her and she was disappointed. I saw her address and obviously it got us talking. She lived in the road where I owned a house. As she left the interview she said If you’re in my street you could take me out for a drink . . . She walked off but then came back moments later and gave me her mobile number on a piece of paper. This was a direct invitation to me and I took it up.’

  ‘She was eighteen.’

  ‘She did all the running, I can assure you. We spent some time together. I took her to Norfolk. I took her to a few London hotels but then she became tiresome. She said she was in love.’

  Munroe straightened his cuffs and walked along the table to the chair that held the ties. He picked one up and held it under the light. He put it back on the chair and then took another. He lifted his collar up and draped the tie around his neck.

  ‘That summer was difficult,’ he said, finally turning back to look at them. ‘There was a lot going on. There was the fallout from the Baranski judgement. In July there was the Michael McCall judgement. A quick case, dealt with by Frank. I had to keep a cool head, had to arrange things for him and for your mother and father. New passports do not come easy. Strings have to be pulled, people have to be paid and every time I had a free moment there was a text on my phone from this girl. And then Margaret saw us together. I swore to Margaret that it was over. But the girl kept on calling. I gave in. I agreed to meet her at the house in Brewster Road. We met there three times.’

  ‘You gave her my mother’s pendant.’

  ‘No, she took it. She stole it. It was one of the reasons that I got so angry with her. She was . . . unstable. The last time we met I knew I had to put a stop to it. I never intended to kill her. Things just got out of hand.’

  Joshua made a snorting sound. ‘You never mean to kill anyone. You didn’t mean to kill Skeggsie either . . .’

  ‘I’m tired of you and your whining. You’ve heard what you came to hear. Now leave me alone.’

  ‘You tied her hands with Brendan’s tie. You were trying to make it seem as though he’d killed her.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I picked up the first thing that came to hand.’

  ‘That’s not true. You used his tie so that it would look like he’d done it. Just in case my dad ever got to be a problem for you. It was a perfect crime to fit him up for.’

  ‘This is nonsense. What does it matter what I used? It happened. I intended to frighten her. But she said things . . . that I couldn’t allow. She spoke about telling Margaret . . .’

  ‘And you buried her in our garden.’

  ‘Strictly speaking, Rose, it was my garden. Now, if you don’t mind, I have somewhere to go.’

  ‘Let’s get out of here, Rose.’

  ‘Yes, please go.’

  Joshua walked off. Rose heard him at the front door.

  ‘How can you be so unfeeling about Daisy?’

  ‘Don’t think I did not suffer after what happened to Daisy,’ Munroe said, looking drawn. ‘I did suffer. I saw my role as an avenger of crime. Not a perpetrator. Maybe it’s why I’ve been so determined to carry out the judgements. To rid the world of people who commit murder without a whiff of conscience.’

  ‘But aren’t you just like them?’

  ‘A world of difference. You should go now. And remember what I said about your parents. After tonight they c
an have a very nice life in British Columbia. As long as you both keep your mouths shut.’

  ‘What about Margaret? Aren’t you worried that she will go to the police?

  ‘Margaret will never betray me.’

  ‘Come on, Rose,’ Joshua called.

  She watched Munroe putting his rings on. The music came to an end and the apartment seemed unnaturally quiet. She closed the door without a sound.

  Joshua drove. After a few minutes he pulled over to the side. They were far enough away from Munroe’s apartment. He turned off the ignition and they sat for a moment. He undid his seat belt. Rose was nervous.

  ‘Do you think it worked?’

  ‘Hope so,’ he said.

  He turned on the inside light and pulled Skeggsie’s tiny recording machine from his pocket. He fiddled with the buttons and then held it out.

  ‘“. . . Strings have to be pulled, people have to be paid and every time I had a free moment there was a text on my phone from this girl. And then Margaret saw us together. I swore to Margaret that it was over. But the girl kept on calling. I gave in. I agreed to meet her at the house in Brewster Road. We met there three times.”

  “You gave her my mother’s pendant.”

  “No, she took it. She stole it. It was one of the reasons that I got so angry with her. She was . . . unstable. The last time we met I knew I had to put a stop to it. I never intended to kill her. Things just got out of hand.”’

  Joshua smiled at Rose.

  ‘Let’s see what Dad and Kathy think of Munroe now.’

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The Lord Buckingham Hotel was busy. A coach of tourists had arrived and their cases were clogging up the reception area. Rose went round them and headed for the stairs. Joshua followed her. The staff were occupied and no one seemed to notice them or question why they were going up to the rooms. Rose had no idea if her mother would still be here or whether she would have already left for Tate Modern.

  When her mother’s room door opened she was surprised to see Brendan standing there. He was wearing a smart dark suit.