Web of Lies

by Sally Rigby

‘Crap, Seb. I’ll get to you as soon as I can.’

  ‘Elsa’s on her own. Can you look after her for me tonight?’

  ‘Of course, you don’t even have to ask. Just hang tight and don’t do anything stupid like trying to leave.’

  ‘I’ve already done that and wasn’t able to move. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. I’m still at the pub, anyway. I’ll be with you soon. Don’t give the nurses a hard time.’

  He finished the call and dropped the phone next to him.

  ‘Can I have some water?’ he asked, his voice all croaky.

  ‘Not until we get the X-ray results back I’m afraid, in case the doctors need to operate.’

  ‘I take it that means no painkillers either.’

  He touched his face. Was there any place they didn’t get? He played rugby, for goodness’ sake, so was used to getting bashed, but this was at a whole new level. And with a baseball bat, too.

  Did they speak to him? He had a vague recollection that they did. It was all a bit hazy.

  ‘I’ll check if we can give you some IV pain relief.’

  The nurse left the cubicle and he closed his eyes. He must have drifted off because when he opened them Birdie was standing by him, her mouth open wide.

  ‘Oh, my God. Look at you.’

  ‘Elsa. You said you’d take care of her.’

  ‘I will. Give me your keys and I’ll go after I’ve left here. I’ll stay with her until you’re well enough to go back to the house. Can you remember what happened?’

  Even in this state, the memories were there waiting for him to access.

  ‘I was walking home and after I went past the old grammar school, I thought I was being followed, but every time I turned there was no one there.’

  ‘Were you followed from the pub, do you think?’

  ‘Not that I noticed. But I wasn’t looking out for it. I’d just turned into Heygate Street when I was attacked by two men. One of them had a baseball bat. They took my wallet.’

  ‘It was a mugging?’

  ‘I don’t think so. They took it as an afterthought.’

  ‘To make it look like you’d been mugged?’

  ‘Yes.’ He dragged in a breath. How could talking hurt so much?

  ‘If you’re right, do you think it’s related to the case? Had we got close to uncovering something without realising?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He turned slightly and winced.

  ‘Has anyone from the force been to see you?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘What did the doctors say?’

  ‘They’re waiting for X-ray results to see what damage has been done. I’ve got to stay here until they can find me a bed on one of the wards.’

  ‘I’m at work tomorrow so I’ll come back and take a statement. Don’t worry about Elsa, she’ll be fine with me.’

  ‘The food …’

  ‘I’ll find everything. Where’s the key?’

  ‘Try the bag at the end of the bed. The address is on the fob.’

  She opened it. ‘Found it.’ She waved it under his nose. ‘Does Elsa get fed twice a day?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded.

  ‘She’ll be fed, watered, and walked. Remember, I worked at the kennels and know what to do, so don’t worry.’

  He’d forgotten, but now she reminded him he felt better about leaving her in charge of Elsa.

  ‘Thank you. I—’

  The curtain opened and the nurse walked in, interrupting him. ‘All you have are broken ribs, the rest of you is fine, apart from the cuts and bruising. The doctor has prescribed some painkillers which I’ll get for you.’

  ‘Can I go home?’ he asked, thinking that Birdie could take him.

  ‘No, because of the concussion, as I’ve already told you. You’re on half-hourly obs.’

  ‘I’m going now. Take it easy’ Birdie said. ‘Don’t take any crap from him,’ she said to the nurse, grinning at Seb as she left.

  Chapter 23

  16 May

  Birdie tossed and turned all night, unable to get the sight of Seb’s battered face from her mind. It could’ve been so much worse. The attackers must have been very strong to do something like that to someone of his size. Then again, it was two against one and they had a weapon. She couldn’t sit back and let someone else deal with the case, she’d make sure it was hers. Before going to bed, she’d sent an urgent email request to the Leicestershire secure control room, which luckily operated twenty-four-seven, asking for access to all CCTV footage in and around the area where Seb was attacked. She assumed it would be there for her in the morning.

  Finally, at six o’clock, she got up to see to Elsa, who she already adored. After feeding and walking her, Birdie headed home, where she had a quick shower and grabbed a bowl of cereal.

  She then drove to work intent on checking the CCTV footage from the area to try to identify the attackers. She stopped at the machine in the corridor for a coffee and set to work. None of the team had arrived yet, which meant no interruptions or having to explain what she was doing. She also wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible to see how he was. It was too early to phone in case it woke him up.

  The link to the footage had been emailed to her and she called it up on her screen. She watched from when he’d left the pub, heading up High Street. The streets were fairly deserted, apart from two teenage girls, and a man in dark clothing on one side of the road. Was he one of the attackers? She peered closely at her screen but couldn’t make out his face. She then noticed that on the other side of the road there was a second man, also keeping his head down.

  They both walked quickly and kept a set distance behind Seb. When he turned into The Square, one of the men crossed the road and joined the other. They followed Seb onto Church Street, and that’s where the footage stopped, because there were no more cameras. Damn.

  It had to be them. There was no one else around, and Seb had said he thought he was being followed for a while.

  She reran the footage to see if the weapon could be spotted. But they were both wearing hoodies. ‘Easy to hide a baseball bat in there,’ she muttered to herself.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ She started at the sound of Sergeant Weston’s voice. How long had he been standing there? ‘What are you looking at?’

  ‘There was an attack in town last night, which I’d like to deal with. With your permission, Sarge. It’s a bit complicated.’

  ‘I’d expect nothing less,’ he said, arching an eyebrow.

  The door opened and Twiggy and DC Gemma Litton, aka Sparkle, walked in. ‘Can I talk to you in private?’ she asked quietly, nodding at the other officers, so he would realise she didn’t want them to hear.

  ‘Come with me.’

  She followed him through to his office, sitting on one of the chairs in front of his desk while he sat behind it. The room was a mess. Folders piled high on every surface. Old police magazines in the corner on the floor. Several jackets were hanging on a peg on the back of the door. But no one would dare say anything. Crossing Sergeant Weston wasn’t advisable, as she’d found out to her cost on more than one occasion.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Before I start, you’re not going to be happy with what I’ve done, but—’

  ‘What is with you? How hard is it to keep your nose clean? How many times have—’

  ‘Let me explain,’ she interrupted. ‘I’ll start at the beginning and it will make more sense. Do you remember the suicide of Donald Witherspoon?’

  He frowned. ‘Yes, of course. Why?’

  ‘His wife didn’t believe the verdict and so she asked her cousin, Sebastian Clifford, who’s a former detective with the Met, if he’d look into it.’ She paused a moment, bracing herself. ‘I’ve been helping.’

  ‘Helping? How do you know him?’ He locked eyes with her, and she squirmed in her chair. She was convinced that he’d spent years perfecting that look.

  She rubbed her hands down her trouser leg
s. ‘I don’t know him, exactly. Well, I do now. But we got to know each other after he phoned CID asking to see the police report, and I was the one to answer the call.’

  ‘Of course, you said no because you’re a stickler for rules and regulations.’

  ‘Not exactly. I talked to him to find out what he was doing, and why he wanted the report, and he seemed to have a genuine case. And, you know, he’s ex-job, and I was so fed up being stuck behind a desk doing nothing that—’

  ‘Whose fault was that?’

  ‘I know. Mine.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Anyway, I told him that I’d get the police and coroner’s reports if he let me assist in his investigation. I did it in my own time, though. I didn’t do anything while at work.’

  A slight distortion of the truth, but she wasn’t going to admit that. It was bad enough that Sarge now knew she’d helped Seb.

  ‘That makes it right does it?’ He leant forward on his desk and she, involuntarily, backed away.

  ‘No, Sarge.’

  ‘During this investigation into Witherspoon’s suicide, did you find anything other than what we already knew?’

  ‘Seb … I mean Clifford, was given access to Donald Witherspoon’s computer and files. After he’d examined them, he isolated several people to interview, including friends and family, who had invested money. And, by the way, he has this weird memory thing where he can recall everything that has ever happened to him.’

  ‘Like a photographic memory?’

  ‘No. It’s something else. He doesn’t like to talk about it much. But it’s bloody useful. Anyway, we met last night and decided that although Witherspoon was dodgy financially, which we all know, there was nothing that pointed to a suspicious death, and that it was most likely suicide.’

  ‘That the police and coroner were correct, you mean.’

  ‘Yes. But as Clifford was walking home last night, he was attacked by two men and badly beaten. He’s now in hospital with concussion. I think it’s related to our investigation.’

  ‘You just said that you’d both decided the death was suicide.’

  ‘So why was he attacked, then?’

  ‘Was anything taken?’

  ‘His wallet.’

  ‘Which makes it a vicious mugging.’

  ‘Clifford thinks they didn’t take his wallet until the end, you know, as an afterthought.’

  ‘How can he be sure of that, the state he’s in? Look, Birdie, I know you’re anxious to get back outside. I accept that. And I will let you out there. I think you’ve learnt your lesson and I’ve noticed you’ve come in early a few times, even if it was to work on this.’

  She held up her hands in protest. She didn’t want to get in more trouble. ‘It wasn’t—’

  ‘We’ll park that for one moment,’ he interrupted. ‘You’re a good copper, no question about it, but this could have been kids on drugs. There have been some serious attacks recently, not dissimilar to this one. These attackers could have got carried away before taking his wallet.’

  ‘On the CCTV footage, there were two men walking separately and then joining up as Clifford walked into Church Street where there are no cameras.’

  ‘It could be coincidental?’ His tone wavered. Did he now believe her?

  ‘Maybe, but it still needs considering. Please may I be the one to investigate the attack? I already know the background on the case and if it doesn’t turn out to be linked to Witherspoon’s suicide, then it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Okay, you can take it, but for now it’s going to be classed as a mugging, unless we discover otherwise. We’re certainly not going to open up a murder investigation on such flimsy evidence, especially as the death has already been investigated.’

  ‘Got it. I’ll interview Clifford this morning, he’s at Leicester Royal Infirmary. If that’s okay?’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘Get a statement and we’ll work from there.’

  ‘Thanks, Sarge.’

  She returned to her desk, happy to be back on the job, even though she thought Sarge should’ve been more receptive to her theory.

  She looked again at the CCTV footage of the two men, paying particular attention to their clothes. They both wore hoodies and dark trousers, and one was wearing gloves. They didn’t look like drugged up kids. Neither of them had their face captured on the camera. Was that a deliberate ploy? Had they checked in advance the camera angles and where they were placed? Being a small town, they didn’t have that many, and they were easy to evade, unlike in the big cities.

  She downloaded the footage of them turning into the street onto her phone to show Seb when she saw him later.

  Surely if it was just a mugging, they’d have asked him to hand over his wallet and not wait until they’d beaten him to a pulp before taking it.

  And if it wasn’t a mugging, then what was it? Why had he been chosen?

  If it was to do with Witherspoon, was she at risk, too? No one had come after her. Yet.

  Chapter 24

  16 May

  At nine-thirty Birdie grabbed her bag from the back of the chair and slipped on her pink and white striped thick knitted cardigan. There had been a nip in the air when she’d arrived earlier, and it would keep her warm.

  ‘Where are you going? If it’s to get some breakfast, get me a sausage roll. I’ll pay you when you get back,’ Twiggy said, as she marched past his desk.

  ‘I thought you were meant to be on a diet? I’ll tell Evie,’ she threatened, referring to his wife, and grinning in his direction.

  ‘You can laugh, but it’s driving me mad. The woman’s emptied the house of anything decent to eat. No cakes. No biscuits. No crisps. I’m not even allowed brown sauce on my dinner. Can you believe it? A meal isn’t a meal unless it’s smothered in sauce. She says it’s got sugar in it. But I don’t know where. It doesn’t taste sweet. Go on. Get me a sausage roll, please. I’ll put in a good word with Sarge to get you back out there.’

  ‘I don’t need your help, thanks. I’m off to the hospital to take a statement from Sebastian Clifford. He got attacked last night in the town centre.’

  He stared at her a broad grin on his face ‘Good for you. What made Sarge change his mind? He’d seemed so determined to make you suffer a while longer.’

  ‘He hadn’t intended to, that was for sure. He’s only letting me go because I know Clifford as we’ve been working together on a case.’

  Crap. She hadn’t meant to tell him about it just yet. Was he going to be upset that she’d kept it from him?

  ‘What case and why don’t I know about it? We’re meant to be partners. When did Sarge give it to you?’ His jaw clenched as he stared daggers at Birdie.

  Twiggy was easy-going and was seldom annoyed, but this had clearly wound him up.

  ‘That’s the whole point. He didn’t know about it because I was doing it on the side. I didn’t want to involve you, in case Sarge found out, and then we’d both be in trouble.’

  ‘What’s the case?’ Twiggy asked, his jaw relaxing and his usual expression returning.

  ‘We’ve been investigating the suicide of Donald Witherspoon.’

  ‘Ha. So that’s why you wanted to know about the crime scene. All that crap about filing and coming across it. And I fell for it.’ He smacked his forehead. ‘I’m such an idiot.’

  She felt the heat rush up her cheeks. Damn. She hated blushing. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to deceive you. Anyway, long story short, we looked into it, didn’t come across anything to make us think the verdict was wrong, and then last night he was attacked. Sarge is classing it as a mugging, but I’m not so sure, and neither is Seb. We believe it could have been a warning for him to back off.’

  ‘Who is this guy and how come he’s investigating a case? Is he a PI?’

  ‘He used to be a DI at the Met, and he’s doing it for his cousin, who was Witherspoon’s wife. He’s a good guy, even if he is an aristocrat.’

  ‘A what?’ Twiggy spluttered.

  ‘He’s
the son of a viscount, but he’s not inheriting the title because he isn’t the eldest son. But that doesn’t matter. All you need to know is he was attacked last night and Sarge is letting me work the case.’

  ‘Do you want me to go with you?’

  His help might be useful, but she wasn’t sure Seb would want anyone else involved. He’d already made it clear that he liked working alone and was only letting her help because he’d had no other option at the time.

  ‘Thanks, but it’s better if I go alone. He was badly beaten and won’t be up to both of us visiting,’ she said, using that as an excuse.

  ‘Tell me more about your enquiry into Witherspoon.’

  ‘I haven’t got time now. We’ll catch up later.’ She didn’t want to go into too much detail, until she knew more about what had actually happened and how it linked to Donald’s death … if it actually did.

  ‘I’m here if you need me.’

  ‘Sarge won’t like that. Or have you now become an anarchist?’ She smirked.

  ‘Go.’ He pointed at the door. ‘But if you do need help, let me know. You know, you can’t just don’t go wading in single-handedly. If Clifford’s incapacitated, he won’t be much use.’

  ‘I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ll find out in more detail what happened last night now he’s had time to recover a bit. We’ve still got to find the attackers and learn their motive. I reckon one of the people we’ve interviewed set the whole thing up because they thought we were getting too close. Then again, it could be to do with his other work. But how likely is that?’ she mused.

  ‘Don’t make it into something more than it is. Remember I was a part of the original Witherspoon investigation and it was all clear-cut.’

  Was it? Was it really?

  ‘I’m going in with an open mind. Oh and, FYI, Evie has asked me to report to her if you cheat …’ She stuck her tongue out and left the room before he could say anything else.

  When she reached the hospital, she had to drive around the car park several times before finally finding a space. She had no idea which ward Seb was on so she headed to the reception desk and held out her warrant card. ‘I’m looking for Sebastian Clifford. He was brought into accident and emergency last night.’