Misery Shallows (DI Elizabeth Jewell Book 4)

by Carole Pitt

  Elizabeth pulled her glasses out of her bag but didn’t touch the photo. This time Daly didn’t linger at the bar. When he sat down, he pointed to an individual in the background. ‘Who’s that?’

  The only face she recognized was Deena Walker. The person Daly had singled out rang no bells. She looked over. ‘You obviously know who it is so stop keeping me in suspense.’

  I’m going outside to make a call. If you stare for long enough you’ll get there.’

  Daly made his way to the courtyard garden. No one else had ventured outside and he hoped to have the place to himself while he spoke to Brotherton. Each table supported a large green umbrella; he chose the one furthest away from the door and sat down. Jewell had raised her eyebrows when he’d insisted he take the call in private.

  Brotherton’s landline seemed to ring for ages. He hung on wishing he’d asked for his mobile number, then a breathless voice he recognized as Brotherton’s wife said a cheery hello.

  ‘It’s Ted Daly. Is Graham about?’

  ‘Nice to hear from you again,’ Alice said.

  He heard her shout and seconds later Brotherton picked up. ‘You found it?’

  Daly heard the fear in his voice. They’d entered into a risky business. ‘Took me ages but I struck lucky at Cordover Street.’

  Brotherton’s voice faded slightly. ‘So now you know?’

  ‘I was beginning to think you didn’t want me to find it. Then what do I come across, a photo of you. What the fuck were you thinking, leaving it in there?’

  Brotherton raised his voice. ‘You’re wrong. I genuinely wanted to help. It was only after I told you about the file I started to worry if I’d accidently left that one in the folder. I knew I’d hidden it but couldn’t remember where and it was too late to stop you looking. In any case, that would have made you suspicious. I ended up hoping you wouldn’t find anything even though I wanted to help you solve the case. How do you think I felt Ted? I loved the woman. I was in a bad way for months afterwards and must have left it in there by mistake. Would I have mentioned it. knowing I’d left incriminating evidence for another cop to find? What I wanted you to see was the other photos and the article in the Times. Seeing that face again and finally joining the dots, that’s what was important.’

  ‘It was a shock, seeing you with your arm around Deena Walker’s waist?’

  ‘Okay, okay. It started as a fling and got serious. I’d made a few official visits to the site for minor offences. A few fights, warnings to a few teenagers caught shoplifting in Tewksbury. Deena was a very friendly woman. She loved life and loved everybody.’

  ‘Joel Walker didn’t object to you screwing his wife then?’ Daly said, feeling as if his head was stuck in a vice.

  ‘Nobody knew it was a full on affair. We were discreet.’

  ‘Come on, someone would have known. You were senior investigating officer in her disappearance. Is that why they sacked you? The brass found out.’

  Daly heard only silence and had his answer. Brotherton had provided him with a crucial piece of evidence but he’d still duped him, Daly knew that now. Discovering Park Road was due for demolition must have caused him plenty of nightmares in case the file surfaced. He knew he’d played into Brotherton’s hands and the man had seized his opportunity. He’d built a new life, had high-ranking mates in Northumbria Constabulary, a glamorous younger wife. The last thing he needed was for his past to catch up with him.

  Brotherton wasn’t ready to capitulate. ‘Listen Ted, I didn’t solve the case and yes, they sacked me, but not because they found out about Deena. I was a mess, drinking, taking drugs and I couldn’t explain to them why.’

  ‘No, I bet you bloody well couldn’t. Now I’m issuing a serious warning. Keep your mouth shut. Breathe a word to anybody concerning the Walkers and that photo will leave the safety of my pocket.’

  Daly waited. Brotherton had no options if he wanted to hang on to his nice lifestyle.

  ‘I don’t need to make a deal Ted. You might not trust me now, but at least remember I’ve helped you to get justice for Deena and her kids.’

  Elizabeth was still in the dark when Daly returned. ‘I must be stupid, I still can’t figure out who it is.’

  Daly bent over her shoulder. ‘Thirty years does make a difference but time can’t erase everything. Here’s a more recent one.’ He handed her a cutting from the Times article.’

  ‘My God, I don’t believe what I’m seeing. No way is it possible. You’re so determined to solve the Walker case you’ve done the unthinkable.’

  Daly’s eyes narrowed in anger. ‘What the fuck does unthinkable mean?’

  ‘Produce a suspect based on very few facts. Coincidences happen. Okay, this person was there, so were hundreds of other people. You insist you’ve read the original files so show them to me. I want to read the rest of the interviews and what about motive, what about opportunity? Neither of which you appear to know.’

  ‘I’ll work that out,’ Daly bellowed.

  ‘Without the bodies, you’ll never get a conviction. Instead of retiring on a high note, you’ll end up looking an idiot.’

  Daly smirked. ‘I convinced Reynolds.’

  Elizabeth tried not to draw attention by raising her voice. ‘Reynolds, like you, would love to solve it to please the Chief Constable.’ She handed back the old photo. ‘In any case, these people look content, happy. What could have gone so terribly wrong?’

  ‘They didn’t all go to Glastonbury that summer, that’s what went wrong.’

  Elizabeth thought Daly’s voice sounded far away but she heard his words clearly.

  ‘We might never find out why. What matters is we prove it beyond reasonable doubt. Reynolds has sanctioned a search of Roxbury Farm. We go in with the dogs the day after tomorrow, as long as Reynolds gets everything sorted by then. Depending on where the dogs alert, we start digging.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Patterson put this foot down on the way back to Cordover Street and hoped Eldridge was there. For all his faults, where computer software was concerned, he excelled. Some of his boasting was questionable but when it came to identifying labs specializing in digital forensics, he was an expert. Patterson needed a local laboratory. One who could guarantee to examine the hard drive within the next twenty-four hours. Since talking to Lacroix his mind had stuck in one groove, that something else was about to happen. What or where or when he had no idea. Just that it would and he had to prevent it. The speedometer reminded him to slow down. Traffic on the M5 was building up and there were disruptive road works ahead. He signalled, pulled over into the inside lane and exited the motorway at the next junction.

  He found Eldridge sifting through another pile of statements but walked past without speaking. A young female constable asked if he wanted a cup of tea. Rather than pounce on Eldridge, he accepted her offer, sat out of sight of Eldridge and tried to relax. Then he remembered; in his hurry to leave, he hadn’t asked for Lacroix’s written permission to have the hard drive analysed. It was probably just as well he hadn’t; in her current state of mind, she might not have fully understood the implications. For a woman of her age she seemed incredibly naive in some ways. Elizabeth had thought otherwise, describing her as tough and intelligent. She probably was, but since Moore’s death, her intense grief had wiped out the last of her reserves. It was unlikely she would cause any trouble. Apart from that, Moore had trusted her with his property. Patterson took out his notebook and looked at the name again.

  Eldridge finally spotted him and came over, his eyes wary. Patterson knew it was time to call a truce. ‘How’s it going?’ He asked. ‘Oh, and by the way well done finding the knife.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Eldridge said. ‘Still waiting for the report, God knows what takes them so long.’

  ‘I’ve got something I need a hand with.’

  Patterson was instantly aware of the others ear wigging. Eldridge raised his voice so everyone could hear. ‘Better discuss this in the corridor.’

&
nbsp; When they reached the lift, Patterson turned left and stopped outside a storage room. They leaned against the door out of sight. ‘Remember there was nothing on Moore’s computer or phone?’

  Eldridge nodded. ‘Yeah, a pay as you go wasn’t it? And nothing worth a lick on the computer.’

  Patterson held up the portable. ‘I’ve just seen Anyas Lacroix. She’d rescued some of Moore’s belongings and found this. Moore must have had a reason to destroy his hard drive. The fact he took the trouble to hide this means he was scared. I need a reputable lab, immediately.’

  ‘I could do it,’ Eldridge said.

  ‘You’re not qualified to recover digital evidence Wayne, and I don’t want to take it to our in house guy. He’ll take too long.’

  ‘He’s not as good as me,’ Eldridge said and pulled out his phone. ‘I know a new place with top people. Here we go, Artural Forensics out towards Staverton. Do you want me to come?’

  ‘You’ll have to. I can’t deliver this on my own. As it is, I’ll be in the shit with Jewell for not showing her first.’

  Twenty minutes later, they crawled through a new industrial estate looking for the sign.

  ‘I didn’t know this place existed,’ Patterson said.

  ’It’s new, only been open about six months. We haven’t needed any first class digital recovery firms for a while so you wouldn’t have.’

  ‘How come you’ve got the number on your phone?’

  ‘The sod that’s just ruined me uses them, but don’t ask me what for? He makes it his business to know who’s who.’

  Patterson decided it was time to offer the olive branch. ‘What are you doing, staying on or packing in?’

  ‘Got to stay on, no way can I make enough money from the game, now he’s done a number on me.’

  ‘Design another one then,’ Patterson said.

  ‘Heart’s not in it. I put everything into the last one and got shafted.’

  Patterson laughed. ‘You’re too bloody young to be a millionaire anyway.’

  Artural Forensics stood in perfect isolation at the industrial estate’s furthest point. Architecturally it wasn’t that dissimilar to Cordover Street HQ except it was smaller.

  ‘Why do these places all look the same?’ Patterson asked.

  Eldridge pressed the entry phone. ‘I expect architects run out of ideas and focus on functionality. Easy money.’

  A receptionist asked them to wait while she contacted the scientist in charge of the digital team. He came quickly and gave the impression he didn’t have time to hang around. ‘Got all the documentation? He asked.

  Patterson had stored the Seagate hard drive in a Ziploc then packed it in an evidence box with the paperwork attached. He handed it with over with a standard request form and hoped the guy wouldn’t query it.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, after speed-reading. ‘These are easy. Where’s the original computer?

  ‘Still stored at our place, the original hard drive was missing. I’m after all correspondence, emails, word documents and whatever else you can get.’

  ‘Are you basing this on a hunch or intelligence?’ He asked.

  ‘A bit of both and I need it for tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, you really needed it for yesterday.’

  Patterson handed over a card. ‘Can you ring my mobile? I won’t be in the station tomorrow.’

  ‘Where to now?’ Eldridge asked as Patterson headed back to the main road.

  ‘Back where we belong. Daly and Jewell are secretly colluding. She makes a song and dance about him keeping stuff from her then does the same and leaves me out of the loop. We’re all at it. It’s like a primary school playground where kids whisper so the others don’t hear their little secrets.’

  Eldridge’s phone played an unfamiliar tune. From the one-sided conversation, Patterson guessed it was Elizabeth.

  Eldridge finished and seemed flustered. ‘Meeting, she’ll give us five minutes and then they’ll start without us, something’s about to go down.’

  ‘Did she say what?’

  ‘She sounds hyper, so we know what that means.’

  Traffic prevented them making the deadline. When they walked into the incident room, Daly and Jewell had a capacity audience including a large uniformed contingent. References to Roxbury Farm covered each board: maps, photos, thermal imagery and aerial shots. Daly was itemizing tomorrow’s itinerary and delegating tasks.

  ‘We’re starting before the sun comes up and we’ve only got today to fine tune the organisation.’ He introduced the dog handlers. ‘These,’ Daly said, ‘are the new dogs on the block with a one hundred percent record for recovering human remains. They will work the area first and as soon as they alert I want everyone out there digging. Lillian Fowler’s sold the land so this is our best chance before that bloody paddock’s carved up into building plots.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Following morning.

  The dawn sky cast an eerie light over Roxbury Farm. Daly had put together a large team, most of who were fortifying themselves with coffee and bacon sandwiches inside two small marquees. Although the forecast said no rain, the glorified tents would provide temporary shelter, privacy to change clothes, and meetings well away from any media attention.

  A generator provided the power supply for all the electrical equipment. One marquee was a makeshift kitchen complete with two kettles, a small fridge and a microwave. The other housed phones, computers and printers. Shortly after six am, a lorry negotiated its way along the lane carrying four cubicle toilets.

  The majority of travellers had vacated their caravans and had either gone to stay with friends or taken advantage of a free hotel. Anyas Lacroix was collecting keys from those who had locked up and were ready to leave for the day. Elizabeth watched a procession of families head for the main road where a coach waited to take them into Tewksbury, returning at seven-thirty pm.

  Elizabeth and Patterson arrived together and joined Day inside the smaller marquee. Daly was poring over an ordinance survey map. He greeted them with a grimace and pointed to a point on the paddock’s southern perimeter. ‘There’s an old unoccupied caravan right there. How come no one mentioned it?’

  Elizabeth turned to the whiteboard attached to the tent frame and concentrated on the aerial shot. ‘When we asked who it belonged to no one claimed ownership, said it was left there for emergencies, or for the children to play in. It’s in one of my reports so why the sudden problem?’

  ‘Did anyone bother to search it?’ Daly demanded.

  Elizabeth still couldn’t rid herself of the idea that Daly had made a huge mistake, one he would never live down. Her anger towards him hadn’t subsided and his aggressive attitude towards her had continued. What else could she expect after challenging his and the ACC’s decisions?

  Elizabeth kept her voice level. ‘Of course we did. I agree it’s old, but so are most of the others. Two thirds of them are over twenty years old. We found nothing suspicious and I did see children going in and out. Remember some of these children are home schooled and Laroix implied the parents use it as a classroom.’

  ‘The problem DI Jewell is that according to an expert, this particular caravan dates back to the Walker era and has never once been moved.’

  Elizabeth found that hard to believe. ‘Not even during the original investigation?’

  ‘It appears not. Get Lillian Fowler out of bed and find out which other caravans have stayed put for decades. I want to know before the dog handler starts.’

  The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to deal with Fowler. ‘Her husband phoned to say he and another lawyer will be here at nine-thirty. He expects us to be off his property by then.’

  ‘Did he now?’ Daly said. ‘What happens in between will determine if we’re still here. I have the authority to continue through the night and into tomorrow if necessary. A lighting crew are on standby, should we require them.’

  ‘Elizabeth heard panting behind her. She turned to see Jim Brannigan, the dog
handler waiting outside. ‘Can I feed them in here? I start work straight after breakfast.’

  Daly’s face lit up. ‘Come in Jim. You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve finally joined the dog club, bought a German Pointer puppy.’

  ‘Great noses Pointers,' Brannigan said, removing four stainless steel bowls from his back pack.

  Jim Brannigan worked for South Yorkshire Police but was regularly seconded to other UK forces as well as abroad. With a hundred percent success rate, his dogs were in constant demand. Elizabeth had no doubts that if they didn’t alert here there was little point in digging. The bigger of the two Springer Spaniels, a female, Brannigan introduced as Agatha, the other, a male, as Smiley. They barked a greeting and as she bent down to pet them wondered why Samson hadn’t responded. Lillian Fowler had insisted Samson was an excellent guard dog yet he’d remained silent.

  Elizabeth stood up. ‘I better try and rouse Mrs Fowler,’ she said. As she approached, she saw the tightly closed curtains. She knocked on the door with no response then shouted through the letterbox. ‘Mrs Fowler, its DI Jewell. We have two police dogs working here today and I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t let Samson out front. We’d like you to contain him in the back garden until the dogs are finished.’

  Patterson had followed Elizabeth and stood back expecting Lillian Fowler to open up and give them a mouthful.

  ‘God help me if she’s pissed again,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘Let me,’ Patterson said and hammered on the windows as well as the door.

  ‘If Samson heard he’d be going nuts,’ Elizabeth stated. ‘I wonder why he’s not here.’

  Daly had heard the commotion and shouted over. ‘Maybe she’s out.’

  ‘More likely hung over,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘Drinking like she does, she he could have hurt herself,’ Daly added, ‘so break the bloody window.’

  Patterson removed his padded jacket, wrapped it around his elbow and upper arm then aimed it at a small glass pane next to the handle. He cleared away the shards, reached inside, opened the larger side window and squeezed through. A few seconds later, he was at the front door. ‘There’s no dog inside. So he’s either gone off or Mrs Fowler’s got rid of him.’