by Carole Pitt
Daly switched on his new wonder machine that made tea and coffee. 'I met up with Graham Brotherton, the senior investigating officer on the Walker case. He's kept his mouth shut all these years about what went on. I'm honest; I revisited the files out of curiosity and needed a distraction while we waited for new leads. I also went up there on a gut instinct hoping to find a nugget that would help get the case reopened. I admit that idea was for purely selfish reasons but since talking to Brotherton that's all changed. His story isn't the same as the official one and I'd like to set the record straight. Now tell me what else Dalman said to you?'
'She insulted my intelligence. Whatever you and Grayson think of her is irrelevant. I don't like her so don't ask me to work with her. That's all I have to say. Now carry on with the Brotherton story.'
'I didn’t really know Brotherton that well but I heard all the gossip. Everyone at Park Road knew that certain factions wanted shot of him so when he announced his retirement no one was surprised. I was still a bit wet behind the ears in those days, and being new, I tended to keep my head down.’
Elizabeth couldn't imagine what he looked like all those years ago. She wondered if he had any photos.
'Think how the case was reported back then. There was a lot of speculation about that family, for instance, that they'd faked a disappearance because they owed a lot of money. Another theory was they were running a cult and had persuaded some of their followers to commit suicide. Christ, all sorts of crap went around. Reading about it again made me want to do something. Simple as that.’
Elizabeth understood exactly where he was coming from. 'Working with Anita did it. You had to change in order to do the job, become a more compassionate human being.'
She expected him to be offended. Instead, he surprised her. 'I'd turned into an overweight pompous oaf.'
‘Well, I never thought I’d hear you say that. On the Walker case, without new evidence you’ll never get it reopened.’
Daly straightened his shoulders. 'I'm going to tell you something. Graham Brotherton didn't retire he was kicked out. Worse still, someone threatened him, said that if he ever talked about the case in his lifetime, he and his family members would be in deep shit. He’s kept his promise, until I showed up.'
'Why break his silence when you barely knew each other.'
'Timing, the senior officer who put the fear of God in him dropped dead of a heart attack a month ago. Brotherton has a facebook page to keep in touch with his kids and his sailing mates. He's posted pictures of him at the Sunderland Marina and The Navy Club. Not hard to find addresses for both places so a few days after this copper died, an anonymous letter arrived at The Navy Club addressed to him. He showed it to me.'
'What did it say?'
Daly paused. 'I can't tell you Liz.'
Elizabeth wondered if Daly was serious or playing on keeping up the cloak and dagger facade. 'Or I suppose they'll kill you too.'
Daly lowered his voice. 'You're quick to shout about all the conspiracies and cover-ups going on today. Well let me tell you, there was just as many back then.'
'There's only one reason someone would send an anonymous communication so I'll take a guess. It contained new info on the Walker case, of the type that might instigate a reopening.'
Daly walked to the window. 'Let’s leave the Walkers for now. Patterson's just parking up. I want everyone at Dalman's talk.'
Elizabeth wanted the last word. 'It's not the right climate for spending taxpayer's money on cold cases.’
‘Well, as you feel that way, keep this conversation between the two of us,’ Daly said.
Elizabeth didn't believe he'd gone all the way up north just to find out someone had forced an officer out of his job. She wanted to catch Patterson. 'Do you need me?'
Daly appeared thoughtful. 'Try and get some momentum going before Dalman arrives. She expects intelligent questions from her audience.'
'She'll have to accept what's on offer. Where are you going?'
'I'm seeing her before she starts.'
'Don't make promises you can't keep,' she shouted after him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Calvin Fowler glared at his wife and wondered why she still wasn't satisfied. He'd done everything she’d asked, sometime over the weekend the bailiffs would forcibly remove the remaining travellers and clear the paddock. Time was running out, the only option had been to use his powerful connections to get the job done quickly. The bill for what amounted to bribery was astronomical, but for once, Lillian hadn't questioned the amount.
'For Christ sake, give it a rest,' Calvin shouted at her.
Lillian picked up her empty glass and headed for the kitchen. Fowler filled his with whisky and downed half in one gulp hoping to calm down. The last thing he needed was a heart attack now his life was about to get better. By next week he would be back in London permanently, Roxbury Farm and his neurotic wife would be history. Looking back, he couldn’t understand why they'd ever bought the place; it had brought them nothing but sheer brutal misery. So far Lillian hadn't told him her plans, other than she intended to divorce him. He didn't blame her; he'd kept his affair with Nicole a secret for almost two years until Lillian had paid an unexpected visit to their apartment in Highgate. All of their married life she'd subjected him to emotional blackmail due to her hypochondria. For weeks now, she had claimed she was suffering from a mild form of agoraphobia, except he knew no doctor had ever diagnosed it. Since first meeting her, Lillian had refused to see a qualified doctor. Instead, she had spent a fortune on what she called alternative specialists, or from his viewpoint, quacks. What she really needed was a psychiatrist and some heavy medication.
Fowler consoled himself with the knowledge that no other man could have tolerated Lillian for as long as he had. For years, he'd tried to persuade her to socialise more, or come to London periodically. He'd felt guilty about her determination to remain isolated, lately he'd begun to wonder if her self-imposed exile had been for different reasons.
He heard her banging kitchen cupboards and went in. She kept her back to him when he spoke.
'Stop it Lily, pull yourself together.’
Lillian Fowler spun around, her face twisted in anger. She was holding an expensive kitchen knife. 'Are you ever going to understand me? No, you're too busy screwing other women to focus on what I'm going through.'
Calvin Fowler watched as she laid the knife on the counter top and ran her finger along the sharp edge. She'd pressed too hard and he watched as the blood bubbled up under her skin. For the first time since he'd met her, she had scared him.
Lillian stood completely still, not moving a muscle as he walked towards the integral entrance to the garage. He shut the door and decided to hang on to the key. His heart pounded as he slid into the driver's seat and turned on the engine. The garage doors were open and as he drove out into the Gloucestershire countryside, he knew he wouldn’t come back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
'Some of the travellers at Roxbury Farm are packing up their belongings and from what I've heard several have already cleared off.' Patterson said, as they walked along the corridor.
'I don't suppose any of them left a forwarding address.'
Patterson took out his phone and hurried ahead of her. Elizabeth stood back and waited wondering why the need for secrecy. Then she realised it was a personal call.
'Why didn't you answer my question?' She asked when he reappeared.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and smiled. 'Last night I spoke to one of the Fowler's nearest neighbours, which happens to be half a mile away. She assured me they finally obtained an eviction order for this Saturday.’
'Mrs Fowler did say it was imminent, but I was sceptical,’ Elizabeth said.
'The neighbour I spoke to has heard another rumour. The Fowlers are splitting up.'
‘She didn’t act like a woman whose marriage was over. How did this neighbour find out about the eviction?'
'From her grandson, apparently
he's also a bailiff. He let slip that the paddock is up for sale. If that's true, maybe it’s already sold, hence the speedy eviction?'
They stood outside the incident room until more people arrived. Patterson rubbed the back of his head and stretched his neck from side to side.
'You're not getting a headache I hope,' Elizabeth said.
'No, my neck is tense courtesy of Eldridge. He's been bending my ear about leaving. Says a friend has offered him a partnership in a software company. The trouble with Eldridge is half the time he lives in a fantasy world.'
'That's because he's become addicted to those role playing games. Do you reckon he's serious about packing in?'
'I don't know Liz, maybe he's just attention seeking, but someone's got to sort him out or I might end up clobbering him.'
Elizabeth sighed, the prospect of tackling Eldridge made her feel weary. 'I better have a word then.’
Patterson brought out his phone again, checked it and put it back. 'I've had another thought about the land. The Fowlers won't get planning permission for dwellings, all the years of flooding will put paid to that idea. So why would anyone want to buy it?'
Elizabeth pictured the area. 'Possibly for horses, renting out paddocks pays well. You could almost build six stables at the far end. There's always a shortage in this county and it might not flood as badly for years.'
'If her husband’s a top lawyer they can't have financial problems,' Patterson added.
'We'll go over there after we finish up here, otherwise we'll end up chasing these travellers all over the place.'
Daly appeared just as they were about to go in. 'It's ten to five, why aren't you in there? Dr Dalman has been delayed and should be with us shortly.'
Elizabeth hoped she wouldn't turn up at all. No one knew how long she intended to speak for, an hour or possibly longer and no one had that kind of time to waste.
'Why don't you postpone this talk? It isn’t imperative.' Elizabeth said.
Daly shook his head, 'Can't, she doesn't like being messed around and now she's agreed we have to keep her sweet.'
'She should fit in with us. There are people out there in real need while we have to sit and listen to an egotistical academic,' Elizabeth announced.
'Leave it Liz; this kind of talk is counterproductive.' He turned to Patterson. ‘What’s this about the eviction?’ Daly asked.
'It’s on Saturday.'
'I suggest you enlist a few uniforms then, we don't want the Cheltenham Echo banging on about a lack of police presence.’ Daly paused to check the numbers coming in. ‘There isn’t a big enough audience for Dalman, so round up a few more bodies.’
Patterson moaned, 'Great, how many?' Patterson asked.
'As many as possible,' Daly said. ‘Oh, and Grayson rang. He's done the post-mortem on the second victim. Same as the first one, a forced drowning,’ Daly said.
'Anything else?' Elizabeth asked.
‘He wouldn't elaborate except to say the body had deteriorated much quicker than victim number one. I better go in.’
Inside, she noticed Katie Gardiner fussing around Daly. The girl was ambitious and Elizabeth surmised she was jealous of Eldridge getting all of Daly’s attention. She moved into position on the raised area in front of the multimedia boards. While the others were settling down, she studied her notes, shading her eyes from the sun streaming into the incident room. Another oversized greenhouse, she thought, so much for creating a comfortable working environment. Floor to ceiling windows everywhere, overkill on LED lighting systems. She introduced herself then made a suggestion. 'I'm never going to remember all your names so will you be kind enough to write them on a piece paper and hold it up if you want to ask a question.'
Daly sat down and stretched out his legs. His demeanour was almost smug and Elizabeth didn't like it. Elizabeth was about to introduce the facial reconstruction talk when her thoughts went back to her encounter with Dalman and why she’d changed her opinion about the woman. Suddenly the room was silent, all faces focused on her in anticipation.
'By now all of you should be familiar with the fact that DCS Daly has decided to bring on board an expert on facial reconstruction. If any of you have read about it, you'll be aware of the success stories. This is our only chance to identify both victims.’
Her first question came from a young woman whose A4 sheet of paper bore the name Marsha. 'Has the pathologist determined when the first victim actually died?'
'From the decomposition, Dr Grayson believes it was sometime last December, shortly after the most serious flooding.'
'So it's possible someone is still trying to find this woman?’
'We've checked all relevant databases for a hit and so far found seven possibilities. All of them are the subject of a missing person's report instigated by their families or friends. None, I hasten to add are from Gloucestershire. Three are from London, two from Manchester, one from Newcastle and the other from Canterbury.'
Elizabeth waited a few seconds before continuing. 'Dr Dalman assures me the skull is distinctive and feels confident she can produce a recognisable likeness of victim one. Concerning victim two, Dr Grayson is sceptical about a successful reconstruction due to considerable damage to the facial bones. However, Dr Dalman assures me she can work with a state of the art computer programme to enhance the imagery.'
The next question surprised her, although it shouldn't have.
'Hi, I'm John. Are we looking for a serial killer?'
Elizabeth paused; this was always a difficult one. 'The pathologist seems to think it's possible, but that doesn't necessarily equate to a prolific serial killer. However, this person might kill again, so to answer your question, I don’t know. In order to cover all bases we intend to issue a public safety warning for certain areas. Daly nodded his approval so she carried on. 'This isn't designed to panic the public. It's a reminder to stay vigilant especially in isolated rural areas. We ran an extensive nationwide check relating to any murder victims discovered in culverts and came up with zero matches. As for serial killers, Fred and Rosemary West are still the most notorious murderers in this county and we know how long they escaped justice.'
Elizabeth kept her eyes on John. She sensed he wanted to stand out from the crowd. Tall and handsome it was obvious he loved himself.
'Some serial killers do move around,’ he said. What if this person isn’t from our area?' He asked.
'That's even rarer, but if it was the case and this person has targeted Gloucestershire to carry on his grisly work then we'll soon know.'
Another young detective stood up, determined to beat John to the next question. He held up his piece of paper. 'Yes David,' Elizabeth said as she fleetingly remembered her old David, the one she almost married.
‘Going back to the subject of notifying the general public I don't agree with you.'
Before Elizabeth could ask why, he carried on. 'You won't stop people using isolated areas to find their prey or dump them afterwards.' He looked around at his fellow officers, his tone sarcastic. 'Deliberately scaring the public in small communities is asking for trouble.' He turned to face her again. 'Don't we have any suspects yet?'
I wasn't expecting a rebellion so soon, she thought as she studied David's aggressive body language. He's trouble. Just my luck to end up saddled with him. Give me Eldridge any day.
'At this stage of your career you should be concerned about how we are damned if we do and damned if we don't. The media is all too quick to criticise us, so whichever way we act upon the situation we are never on the winning side. On the other hand should anyone else be killed we’ll be crucified. I know it and everyone in this room knows it.'
She turned to Daly feeling aggravated. 'Perhaps you'd like to take over Sir?'
Daly shook his head and closed his eyes and Elizabeth was tempted to lean over and shake him. 'Right, let's move on as Patterson and I are returning to Roxbury Farm after this meeting. We still haven't spoken to all the travellers and we have limited time to do
so. I'd like two volunteers, as my previous ones are both on leave. Eldridge, I need you to organise the questioning at the sailing club as well as the other activity centres. You never know, we might find a witness who has been reticent to contact us.'
Her heart sank when she realised there were only two female officers amongst the new group. The taller one introduced herself as Grace. She was fair-haired, freckled, with the healthy glow of a country girl soon confirmed by her strong West Country burr. 'Have you ever worked a serial case?' She asked.
'I haven't, not in the true sense of the word. I've worked a few double murders committed by one person, but that's different. The motive for the second murder is often to silence someone who knows too much. I want to move on to another case which happened in nineteen eighty-four. It may or may not be relevant but we have to consider the possibility. You're all too young to remember but those of you who have an interest in cold case may have read about it, the Walker family, who at the time of their disappearance owned Roxbury Farm. The other interesting fact is that Mr and Mrs Walker allowed travellers to live on their land during their ownership. As you know, previous and the present owners have battled for years to evict each new generation of travellers. This in my mind deserves more scrutiny, especially as The Fowler’s have obtained an eviction order.’
Daly sat up and shot her angry look. At least she'd dragged him out of his complacency. She'd deliberately put him on the spot and knew she'd get hell for it later, but now he'd be forced to divulge more about his visit to Sunderland. She paused hoping one of them might have stumbled across the case and scanned the room in expectation but no hands went up. 'Okay, the last time the press ran a story on the case was ten years ago, and that was in the Cheltenham Echo. I've printed off photo copies of the article for you to collect on your way out.'
Eldridge broke the tension. 'Now you tell us a bunch of hippies and their descendents have occupied that land for over thirty years. If we'd known about the Walker's we could have taken a more aggressive approach before some of them they cleared off. What a balls up.'
