The Cedar Face: DI Jewell book 3 (DI Elizabeth Jewell)

by Carole Pitt

  Elizabeth interrupted. 'I knew I wasn't wrong.'

  'Working on these historic cases doesn't come without problems. Recent intelligence tells us we weren't the only ones after Yeats; other people were and likely still are. As I said, he's known for years he was a target. That's precisely why he rented an isolated property in Gloucestershire, so he could install sophisticated security systems. After Patterson rang I came out immediately. As I walked down the path I saw someone watching the house from the other side of the street. I went back inside and peered out of the window waiting for him to leave. I gave it a few minutes and he did. I'm saying he, but I can't be sure. I just got through the gate when he appeared from nowhere and started walking towards me. It was scary Liz, old IRA type disguise, black clothes, balaclava and some type of face covering. I ran back indoors and phoned Reynolds. He told me to stay indoors and said he would send an unmarked car with two armed rapid response officers. Then I was stupid and decided to come down to the pub and tell you about Patterson. I was about halfway when down the road when I heard someone pounding along behind me. I didn't look, just ran as fast as I could.'

  Elizabeth couldn't believe Anita's stupidity. 'What on earth were you thinking about? Did the cavalry find him?'

  'They trawled the village several times but no sign. There were a few people making their way home from the pub but no one matching the description. Crime scene turned up later and scoured where he was for any evidence.'

  'Are you a target because you were instrumental in arresting Yeats?'

  I'm ruling out any of the victims' families, they would have acted sooner. It's got to be someone Yeats has seriously pissed off. Grudges can last for years before they're acted upon. So, stay alert, just in case.'

  'Why would they bother with me?' Elizabeth asked.

  'I'm not saying anyone will, but keep it in mind.'

  Elizabeth had almost forgotten about the woman in the pub asking after her. She explained what had happened. 'Someone is trying to frighten you Anita. Dean was adamant he hadn't seen this woman before.'

  'I suspected whoever did this wasn't acting alone. In order to really scare the shit out of me, they needed me home alone. Seeing you leave my place scuppered their plan and that's why she came in the pub. I'll need a description of her and we'll generate an e-fit. I'll ring Dean and ask him to do one as well. Are you seeing him again?'

  'I might if I ever get any spare time.' Elizabeth felt a hand on her elbow. She spun around and saw Patterson. From his expression, she could see they had a problem..

  'Hang on Anita.'

  Patterson sat down. 'Message from Teresa Lane, John McAllister's had a heart attack and was air lifted to the Radcliffe in Oxford.'

  'Bloody hell, did she say what caused it?'

  'Someone sent him a present and it gave him a hell of a shock. According to Lane, this present happened to be a mask.'

  Elizabeth went back to her friend. 'Something's come up. I'll have to leave it there.'

  'Sorry Liz, but I overheard. Hope you get there in time.'

  Elizabeth felt the adrenaline kick in. 'Ring Teresa Lane and tell her not to touch the mask again and that we'll be over there as soon as possible.'

  Patterson peered through the window. 'Eldridge has just pulled up.'

  'Shit,' Elizabeth said. 'What do we do?'

  'No choice, we have to welcome the Canadians and find out what their plans are.'

  'Do I look all right?' Elizabeth asked.

  'A typical woman question when everything else is in chaos. You look fine.'

  'This mask, what is...'

  Patterson interrupted. 'There's no time to discuss it now. They're getting out of the car.'

  Seconds later, they stood at the top of the stairs like royalty waiting to welcome foreign dignitaries. Inspector Gillian Walsh held out her hand. Sergeant Stuart Adams stood behind her waiting his turn. Elizabeth straightened herself and gave them her best smile.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Elizabeth's first impression of Gillian Walsh was the woman actually looked like a cop. She was about five foot five, well muscled under her baggy blouse and tight trousers. Her dark eyes said she'd seen too many bad things in too short a time. Elizabeth felt like a complete fraud next to her. 'It's good to meet you Inspector Walsh,' she said.

  'No ranks please while we're here. I'm Gillian and he's Stu,' she replied pointing to the sergeant. Then she too smiled and her features softened. Elizabeth searched for any resemblance to her native tribe, but her features were European. Unlike Morven, her skin was pale and her shoulder length hair had an auburn tinge. Sergeant Adams did remind her of Morven. He was well over six feet tall and had a striking angular face. Elizabeth estimated he was in his mid-fifties.

  'Pleased to meet y'all,' he spoke with a Texan drawl rather than a Canadian twang.

  'I hope the journey wasn't too dramatic,' Elizabeth said.

  'I've had worse,' Walsh replied, 'the plane had four engines, not exactly what I'm used to.'

  'Is this your first visit to the UK?' Patterson asked.

  Adams answered, 'It is and very pleased to be here despite the circumstances.'

  Eldridge and Gardiner had stood to one side waiting for instructions. Elizabeth moved closer to them and lowered her voice. 'We have another development. Patterson and I are going to Bibury later. I want you to track down three masks that either went missing from Grasmere's art gallery or from the evidence room. Check the evidence room first. If they're not there, go back to Grasmere. Dr Oakley needs them urgently.'

  'I'm coordinating house to house. Remember your words, last person to see Jade Harper,' Eldridge said.

  'Luckily for you I'm going to ignore what you just said. Just do as you're told for once. If you can't find them, contact the students who entered the competition. See if any of them took their mask home, and why.'

  Elizabeth went back to her guests. 'If you like we can go the canteen.'

  'I'd love a cup of tea,' Walsh grinned, her face losing its hard edge.

  'There's bacon and eggs or teacakes and jam,' Patterson added.

  'No bacon and egg, we had that on the plane,' Adams said.

  Elizabeth gestured for them to follow her. 'Did DC Eldridge drop your bags at the hotel?' 'We preferred to come straight here. Someone's picking us up later.' Walsh pulled out a sheet of paper with typewritten instructions and handed it to Elizabeth. 'You better have a copy.'

  The canteen was quiet and no one stared at them when they walked in. Patterson went to order and came back with toasted teacakes; jam on the side and chocolate cake left over from yesterday.

  Elizabeth waited until they'd finished eating before mentioning McAllister. 'I'm sorry but we need to leave you soon. John McAllister has had a heart attack and is in hospital in Oxford.'

  Walsh and Adams looked shocked. 'We were hoping to speak to Morven and the professor today.'

  'The call came just as you arrived. I take it you know Professor McAllister. He came over here to lend support to Morven.'

  Adams sighed. 'Poor guy, I hope he makes it. All we know for sure is he posted bail. I hear it was close on one and a half million Canadian dollars.'

  Elizabeth said. 'I presume you've heard about the second murder, a young girl from the Academy where Morven delivered his lecture.'

  'We did, Ma'am,' Adams said.

  'Up until then, the undertakings Morven gave at his bail hearing have been stringently adhered to. Obviously the situation has changed. He has also been questioned in relation to the Jade Harper investigation.'

  Walsh sounded angry when she spoke. 'I hope you don't think he's involved.'

  It was Patterson's turn to be defensive. 'We're still checking his alibi.'

  Elizabeth wanted to break the sudden animosity. 'I'm sure the professor will pull through.'

  'The
Radcliffe is one of the best hospitals in the country for heart problems,' Patterson added.

  Elizabeth felt awkward. The earlier friendly dynamic had shifted. She stumbled over her words. 'I can guarantee the Radcliffe staff will do everything they can to nurse him back to health.'

  Walsh played with her rings. Elizabeth noticed they adorned her left hand. Was she married with children? Wearing them didn't necessarily mean she was. When she spoke, her tone sounded critical. 'He had health problems before he came here. His work colleagues were against him making the journey. They were worried this stressful situation would make him worse. They were proved right.'

  'I'm very sorry,' Elizabeth said, accepting she would have felt the same about any of her friends. So it seemed these two knew both men. Neither Walsh nor Adams had commented on whether Morven was innocent or guilty and it was unlikely they would. Protocol dictated they could not interfere in the investigation process but Morven's reputation assured him of certain privileges. The consular staff' had limited powers, unless they overstepped the mark, which wasn't unheard of.

  Adams took over. 'Both men are massively respected back home. This arrest came as a big shock so it's not surprising there's a lot of animosity against you Brits. Folks back home want answers to valid questions, firstly, why would a man like Morven need to kill a teacher? We're talking about a guy who's travelled all over the world without any repercussions anywhere. He's hailed as a hero wherever he goes, except here. Unless you give the British press more information, you're in for more condemnation. We're not here to cause trouble, but we'll be grateful if we can come along with you today. Save us getting lost on future trips as we'll know how to get there.'

  Elizabeth understood their feelings. Yeats had caused this furore by seizing an opportunity to enhance his own credibility in case he managed to evade justice and needed a new career. If Morven went to prison based on flimsy evidence and subsequently proved innocent, God knows what would happen. Forget about moving to the new premises, Elizabeth thought, we may as well shut up shop for good.'

  'Is it okay to come along?' Walsh asked.

  Elizabeth had to make a decision. They obviously intended seeing him more than once but for this first occasion, Elizabeth wished she could persuade them to return to their hotel, but she couldn't. She had to agree. 'That's fine,' she said.

  'I'll drive,' Patterson offered.

  'How far is Oxford from here?' Adams asked.

  'About an hour if the traffic's okay,' Elizabeth answered. She didn't want to leave until the atmosphere thawed. 'I need another coffee before we go. Anyone else want one?'

  Patterson played waiter again while Elizabeth steered clear of any further conflict. 'I'm interested in your hometown. Terrace is an unusual name for a town,' she said.

  'It' a city, Adams said. 'A guy from Ontario called George Little came to the area in nineteen hundred and five. He changed the name because of the geography. Old sediment deposits from glaciers changed the landscape over time and had formed benches or terraces.'

  Walsh took over. 'Once it was the cedar pole capital of the world. Every year we manufactured over fifty thousand poles, mainly shipped to the States for telephone and electric power poles. We're famous for the world's tallest pole and it's still standing in New York. These days nearly all wood mills are gone apart from those the First Nations own. Now we mainly rely on tourism, although there's a new spotlight on mineral developments. We also have a great ski resort. You should come over sometime.'

  Elizabeth took the offer as a hand of friendship. 'I'd love to. My oldest friend lives in Vancouver but I haven't seen her for a long time. One of these days I might go, but I've been saying I will for years.'

  'You should,' Adams said. 'The city's changed a lot in the last ten years.'

  'What does your friend do?' Walsh asked.

  'She's editor of a fashion magazine called Mode, not to be confused with Vogue.'

  Patterson handed out the coffee and checked his watch. 'Better go after this,' he said.

  The next twenty minutes gave Elizabeth a chance to repair the earlier misunderstandings. Patterson signed out a Range Rover and pulled up outside the main entrance to Park Road. Less than an hour later, they were knocking on Morven's door.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Teresa Lane ushered them inside. 'Get in quickly,' she said. 'A few journalists have been assembling since I got here.'

  'We didn't see any,' Patterson said as they all squeezed through the half open door.'

  'Hopefully they've gone looking for something to eat.'

  Once they were inside, she turned to Walsh and Adams. 'Sorry I didn't introduce myself. 'I'm Teresa Lane, Jacob's solicitor.

  Elizabeth cast her eye over the antique furnishings. Whoever Morven rented the place from wasn't short of money.

  'Please sit down,' Lane said. Jacob's upstairs sorting his emails. Can I offer you a drink?'

  Gillian Walsh was the first to accept. 'I like your English tea. I want to apologise for not checking it was okay to come but it seemed sensible to drive here with DI Jewell and see you straight away.'

  'Jacob's very grateful you've come all this way. It's important he has solid links to home. I've helped him understand how the British legal system works and what he can expect to happen over the next few months. The difficulty now of course is this second murder.' Lane looked over at Elizabeth. 'Have you checked John and Jacob's alibi yet?'

  Elizabeth knew she was on the spot. Walsh and Adams were watching her. 'The lady who runs the establishment in Oxford confirmed both Morven and McAllister were there. What she couldn't tell us was what time they left. We're studying CCTV from the Cowley Road and as soon as we get confirmation Mr Morven was driving along that route, we'll have no further reason to question him.'

  Walsh turned to Teresa Lane. ‘We'd like to meet Nick Calbrain, who I am told was responsible for setting up the consular help from our embassy.'

  Elizabeth wasn't expecting Calbrain's name to crop up. Which reminded her, she'd not replied to his text regarding the information he'd offered her.

  She shut out the sound of Lane's voice and thought about her short time with Calbrain. He hadn't told her a lot about his life until one night at the Queens Hotel when he'd opened up. Telling her of times he'd tried to forget, and building a new life in a new country. She'd listened and had believed every word. Now she wasn't so sure. Calbrain had come into her life too soon. After breaking up with David she'd had no desire to start a new relationship. Then a chance meeting changed everything. She had loved Nick Calbrain and had wanted to trust him.

  Someone was saying her name. She opened her eyes and the room seemed slightly blurred. This occasional trouble with her eyesight, was in her opinion, stress related. One of these days, she thought, I will learn how to relax properly. She blinked a few times and her vision cleared.

  Teresa Lane had sat on a green velvet Chesterfield. 'I was just saying Inspector Jewell that Nick keeps in touch most days. He and John knew each other when he lived in Vancouver. When all this happened John asked him to help. I believe Nick and you were also friends.'

  Elizabeth wondered why she needed to know. Perhaps she was attracted to him. 'He helped us on a case. I heard he's getting married soon.'

  Lane looked surprised. 'He hasn't mentioned it to us.'

  She stood up and walked over to a small cabinet, then opened a drawer and handed a card to Walsh. 'Nick Calbrain's number. She glanced back at Elizabeth. 'I assume it's okay for your visitors to speak to Jacob in private.'

  Elizabeth nodded. 'I don't like to pressure you, but the main reason for this visit was to collect the mask. I'd like to see it.'

  'Can you give me a few minutes?'

  The door closed and she heard them climbing the stairs. Patterson was fiddling with his phone.

  'You're as bad as Eldridge, always messing with your
phone.'

  'Talking of phones, has Calbrain been in touch with you?'

  Elizabeth didn't want to admit she'd ignored his text, especially when he'd promised information. She knew Patterson would want to know why. She decided to be honest. 'I got a text. He said someone had given him some info on the Wilson case.'

  'Was it any use?'

  'I didn't get back,'

  'Bloody hell Liz, why not? Calbrain's not daft. He wouldn't bother you if it wasn’t of interest.'

  Elizabeth heard Lane coming down the stairs. 'Not now Tony. We need to retrieve the mask, Anyway, I feel uncomfortable with these people.’

  'Have you heard from the hospital since you rang us?' Elizabeth asked Lane.

  'No change, they gave him the clot busting drugs immediately but they take time to act. The staff nurse said to ring this afternoon for an update.'

  'No chance of any visitors then?' Patterson queried.

  Lane sounded annoyed. ‘I’m sure it won’t apply to you. The mask’s in the kitchen. Come through.'

  They followed her into an enormous space in huge contrast to the room they'd just left. Modern and minimalist, it felt like stepping from one period of history to another in a few seconds.

  Lane reached up and removed a brown paper parcel from a shelf. She placed it carefully on a glass table.

  Elizabeth didn't touch it, but observed its size. 'It's too big to go through a letterbox so how did it get into the house?'

  'When I arrived yesterday morning John wasn't feeling too well. After about an hour I could see Jacob was fed up and he suggested we go out somewhere for lunch. John came downstairs after a short nap and insisted on coming too. I drove to Blenheim Palace and we wandered aaround there for an hour or so, then we went to a pub in Woodstock for lunch. John enjoyed himself and certainly seemed a lot better when we got back. As soon as I came into the house, I remembered Jacob had asked me to lock the conservatory doors. I'd forgotten. When Jacob went into the conservatory he found the package.'