by Carla Kovach
‘Yeah, right,’ she replied as she gazed back at the report. ‘Mrs Sanderson also kept a collection of black leather crotchless trousers, tasselled nipple accessories – what I’d refer to as kinky sex clothing.’
‘It sounds very much like they were into something but then, isn’t everyone. Even I’ve bought an ex-lover a little something kinky that would turn me on. It’s not unusual.’
Gina stopped scrolling and stared into space. ‘Pliers?’
‘Everyone has their oddities.’
‘She had a lover called Jimmy, well that’s the name she kept in her phone. He sent a message saying that he couldn’t stand her being with Mr Sanderson. Would someone so unhappy in her marriage – drinking, depression – be so enthused about nipple tassels and sex toys? Maybe they were from an age long gone, who knows. Maybe they used them in the past and they’ve just festered in their secret little place under the bed.’
‘Maybe, guv.’
Gina gulped the rest of the coffee down in one. ‘That’s better. I love coffee, almost more than life itself.’ She picked up the phone and dialled Wyre’s extension. ‘I need you and O’Connor to investigate anyone named Jimmy who could be in Mrs Sanderson’s life. Check on previous work places, toddler groups, friendship circles, neighbours, friends’ partners, even people registered at the same doctor’s surgery. If he’s called Jimmy, Jim or James, I want him eliminated. Also, the phone has been booked into evidence. I want a record of all calls and a trace put out on the numbers in the phone.’ She thanked Wyre and placed the phone down. ‘We need to find Jimmy.’
Twelve
The late morning air whistled through the partly opened window at the back of the bus. It hopped over a speed hump before heading along the main road through Cleevesford.
‘Stop the bus,’ Ellie called as she ran to the front and pleaded with the driver. Over the past year, her mind had toiled with confronting her past and she’d tried to resist, but sometimes the past just wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t for the want of trying. She wanted to forget so badly. In her mind she’d denied it had ever happened but denial would only work for so long. On nights when she’d lie awake next to Becky, listening to her gentle breaths as her chest rose and fell, she’d try to remind herself how lucky she was. She had a wonderful partner, soon to be wife; she had an okay job managing a coffee shop, which she loved, and she worked as a part-time artist, taking on portrait commissions. She was living the dream – only the dream was curdled by her past. Once and for all, she needed to confront what had happened, come fully clean to Becky and leave the burden of her past behind.
The driver tutted as he pulled up just past the Angel Arms, flinging Ellie forward as the bus came to a halt. ‘Next time, ring the bell, love.’
‘Next time don’t drive so fast, and don’t call me love. Jerk,’ she said as she stepped off the bus. An elderly lady sitting at the front grinned as she looked back. Ellie returned her smile. Love – who did he think she was? She wasn’t his love. He didn’t even know her. She straightened her cropped jacket and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length, dark hair, and headed towards the pub.
As she reached the car park, she stopped. A tear rolled down her cheek. She rubbed it away. Why had she shed a tear? That bastard didn’t deserve any of her tears. That summer had been long – longer than any other she’d experienced. She’d been eighteen, just out of art college, and had been looking forward to a future studying fine art at Edinburgh University, but she hadn’t stayed long. Every time she left her shared house, she saw him. He was at the pub, at the shops, in her mind. Every man she passed in the street had been mistaken for him at some point. She’d done a term at university, but the drink had assisted her failure. No longer able to function through the addiction, she came home to Cleevesford, having given up on her dreams of becoming a professional artist.
Years had passed and after many a failure, she eventually found him through an article in the local paper. A year ago his firm had received an award and there was a photo of him on the front page, holding the certificate. He had aged but not beyond recognition. As her anger consumed her, she’d made it her mission to find out more, which is why she’d been led back to Cleevesford.
She leaned against the wall at the front of the pub and stared through the windows. A hot looking, auburn-haired woman came out and collected a few glasses. She was followed by a shorter, scruffier woman. ‘Charlene.’ A voice bellowed from within. The scruffy woman scurried back into the pub leaving the auburn-haired woman alone to clean the exterior.
As she passed the corner of the car park her memories flooded her mind, like they were yesterday. She gasped for breath and a trail of tears forced their way out. She didn’t want to cry but her body had other ideas. The smell of beer travelled through the air. She’d kill for a beer. She thought of Becky and all they’d been through with getting her clean, and she began to walk towards the entrance. Just one – one measly little drink. It had been several years, surely she was able to control it now. As she got closer she stopped at the door, sitting on a bench to the left of the entrance. ‘Jill,’ the slight cockney accented voice bellowed from within.
‘Just a minute, Sam,’ she replied. ‘Morning. We’re open in ten minutes. Are you okay?’ Jill smiled as she grabbed an empty glass from the floor.
Ellie wiped her eyes and smiled back. The woman stepped into the pub, leaving Ellie alone with her thoughts. Back then, after the attack and her failed stint at university, she’d swiftly moved to Redditch, found a bedsit and started afresh. She’d needed to get away from him but he’d never left her. Becky had been her saviour following a turbulent few years, mostly spent in an alcohol-induced trance, sketching caricatures for pennies on the streets. Her wonderful wife to be had helped her to get clean and find gainful employment. So far, they’d had a wonderful eight years together and life had been treating them well.
Becky never pressured her for answers or reasons, always just citing that she was always there. Ellie had recently opened up about the attack but she’d not filled her in with the details. She wasn’t about to tell Becky that she’d been stalking her attacker. That she knew he’d moved to Cleevesford after flirting with the driver of the removal van on the road outside her attacker’s old house. As soon as she’d spotted the new address on his paperwork, she’d dropped him like a stone. The thoughts of his tongue trying to find hers, almost made her want to heave. She’d accomplished her mission though. She couldn’t let him move and not know where he was going. Not before she’d confronted him.
With shaking legs, she got up and took one step after another until she reached the corner of the car park. She wiped away the beads of sweat that were dampening her fringe. Ellie gasped as she reached out with trembling fingers, touching the neatly trimmed hedge. It hadn’t always been this well trimmed. She kicked the bush over and over again until she’d almost destroyed the corner piece. Exhausted, she slumped onto the floor until the breathlessness passed. Her phone beeped.
Are you nearly home? Xx
Becky was waiting for her. But Ellie was having a drink first. She wiped her eyes and followed the beery scent.
‘What can I get you?’ Jill asked.
‘A pint of IPA.’ The woman grabbed a glass and went to pour. ‘Wait.’ She stopped and looked up. ‘It’s a bit early, can I just have an orange juice?’ She couldn’t drink. It wasn’t fair on Becky. Her mind toiled with the just one scenario. Although she’d had minor relapses, she had been off the booze for too many years.
Jill nodded and went to get a small bottle from the fridge at the other end of the bar. As she bent in her tight jeans, Ellie turned and noticed the other man behind the bar staring at her rear. ‘What are you staring at?’
‘None of your business, missy,’ the scrawny man replied as he took his paper and went to sit by the scruffy server.
‘Samuel.’ The sound of a male voice bellowed behind her. He was addressing the pervert who had been staring at Jill’s behind. Ellie
shuddered as he got closer to her. She’d never forget that voice and she’d known that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from his own past. He’d come straight to her.
‘How you doing, mate? Not seen you in here for donkey’s years. Jill, get my old friend here anything he wants. Welcome back, mate.’
She grabbed her glass and took it to the corner of the room. Back then she’d had long blonde hair and was quite the waif. With her fuller figure and short, almost black hair, he’d never recognise her.
She’d taken the bus to Cleevesford to keep him in her sights and he had been so predictable. Clenching her fists under the table, she promised herself that he wasn’t going to get away with what he had done.
Thirteen
Wyre jogged towards Gina. ‘Miss Barker’s here. I’ve put her in interview room one.’
‘Great. Come with me.’ Gina replied as she passed DC Paula Wyre a pen.
Wyre smiled and followed her along the tired-looking corridor until they reached the interview room.
‘Morning, thank you for coming in,’ Gina said as she entered and sat opposite the round-faced woman. The woman rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. Her brown roots had reached halfway down her long, fiery red hair. ‘Can you just confirm your full name?’
‘Yes, it’s Suzanne Eleanor Barker.’ She pulled a crumpled tissue from the pocket of her denim jacket and wiped her nose. ‘I can’t believe what’s happened. When your officer called me…’ The woman let out a little sob. ‘She was my friend, my best friend. We met through a meet and play group. My little one, Seth, is three. He’s a little older than Mia, but he loved it when Auntie Melissa and little Mia came over to play… She’s never coming over again, is she?’ The woman wiped away a stream of mucus that reached her top lip.
‘I’m really sorry about what happened to Melissa. We need to ask you a few questions as we want to catch the person who did this to her.’
The woman wiped her eyes with the already wet tissue and nodded. ‘I’ll do everything I can to help.’ She pulled a strand of tear-soaked hair from the side of her mouth.
‘When did you last see Melissa Sanderson?’
‘This Wednesday, the eleventh. She came over with Mia.’
‘About what time?’ Gina watched as the woman’s brow crumpled as she tried to think back.
‘She arrived just before ten in the morning. We had a coffee and she said she wanted to pop out if I’d mind Mia. I never mind looking after Mia. She left about ten thirty.’
‘Where was she going?’ Gina asked as Wyre took notes. The woman looked down and scratched the back of her hand. ‘Miss Barker, Suzanne, where did Melissa go?’
Suzanne began to sob as she spoke. ‘I promised I wouldn’t say anything…’
‘Suzanne, Melissa is dead. The information you have may help us to catch your friend Melissa’s killer.’
As she tried to open her mouth, loud gasping sobs blurted out. ‘She was seeing someone. She went to see him.’
Gina leaned forward over the table. ‘Who was she going to see at ten thirty in the morning on the eleventh of April?’ The woman sobbed into the back of her hand. ‘Suzanne, it’s important that you tell me.’
‘Jimmy Phipps. His name is Jimmy. They used to be an item back in high school. She’s only been meeting up with him for a couple of months. He’s recently moved back into the area after trying to make it in London as a theatre director. I think the money ran out along with the work so he came back to Cleevesford. As far as I’m aware, he’s a teaching assistant or theatre technician at a school in Redditch.’
Gina glanced at the woman who now appeared to be concentrating.
‘Was it him? Did he do this to her?’ Suzanna blurted out.
‘We’re just gathering witness statements at the moment.’ Suzanna looked up at her. She could tell the woman was sure in her mind that her friend’s killer was Jimmy Phipps. She fumbled with a piece of straggly hair, tucking it behind her ear, revealing several piercings.
‘How long was she gone?’
‘About two hours, all together. She then came back to mine about twelve thirty, got Mia and left. She looked upset.’
‘In what way?’
‘I think she’d been crying. She was blowing her nose and her eyes were a little puffy. It looked like she’d just reapplied her eyeliner as she’d made the wing in the corner of one eye a bit longer than the other. I asked her what the matter was and she just shrugged it off. Said it didn’t matter. She kept checking her phone and scrolling back and forth. I didn’t leave it there. I nagged her until she gave in. She told me Jimmy wanted her to leave Darrel. He wanted to take her away, take Mia too. He’d been angry with her for stringing him along. I knew she wouldn’t ever leave Darrel. They had too much together, had built a life and had a child. She said she’d ended it with Jimmy and told him to leave her alone and not contact her again. That was all really.’
‘Did she ever mention her husband, Darrel Sanderson?’
‘On occasion. I don’t think things were going that well. She said whenever they went out he’d always look at other women. They didn’t spend much time together – he’d just go to the pub with his mates and leave her at home. She was always in a rush to prepare his dinner and make things just as he liked them, even though they were distant. I think she was fighting to keep a failing marriage together. I think her thing with Jimmy had been more about revenge.’
‘Do you know where Jimmy Phipps lives?’
‘Salt Lane. His block of flats is the first block you see when you pull into the road. His is the top flat on the right. I don’t know the number. I only know where it is as I dropped Mia to her a couple of weeks ago so she could make it back before Darrel arrived home. He’d called her to say he was finishing work early. When I turned up in the close, she saw me pull into the parking space and waved out of his flat window. That’s all I know. She kept the rest to herself. You have to catch whoever did this. She was such a lovely person, she didn’t deserve this.’ Suzanne began to weep again.
‘Did you ever see Jimmy Phipps? Could you give us a description?’
‘I couldn’t see much. All I know is he’s just a little taller than her and she was about my height, five eight, so he must be about five ten. His hair was dark and he had a full head of it. I couldn’t see any of his features from where I was.’
‘Do you know anyone who had it in for Melissa, anyone who could’ve hurt her?’
‘She didn’t know anyone else. She was quite a timid person. I think I was her only friend. Apart from her husband and Jimmy, I can’t think that she even knew anyone else. Her mother lives in Birmingham, somewhere. I don’t think they were that close and she never mentioned her father. She took Mia to see her mother occasionally, but that was it.’
‘Thank you, Suzanne. You’ve been really helpful.’
Wyre passed the statement across the table for the woman to read and asked her to sign.
‘If you think of anything else that might help us in the meantime, please call me.’ Gina handed the woman a card and Wyre stood to see her out.
‘Will do,’ she replied as she left the room.
As the door closed, Gina could now envisage a fuller picture of Melissa. Melissa was probably lonely, not feeling valued at home and had fallen for Jimmy, an old flame, when he’d returned from London. She thought of Melissa spending most of her time alone in the big house that she and Darrel had shared, pining for the odd hour with Jimmy. She pictured Melissa toiling with her emotions over one too many glasses of wine, wondering if she should leave Darrel and run off with Jimmy, or make her life with Darrel work. They had everything. He had a successful business that allowed her to be kept in the life of luxury. If she was happy, why had she been drinking? She made a note to ask if there was alcohol present in Melissa’s blood.
Wyre knocked and entered. ‘You still here, guv?’
‘I need this Jimmy Phipps contacted immediately. We need him interviewed.’
Fourteen
The lunchtime rush had passed and a few drinkers were dotted around the pub. Ellie’s stomach turned every time he spoke or laughed. The scrawny man in his fifties, wearing jeans that made his legs look too thin, she now knew to be called Samuel. He’d been laughing and joking about a woman he’d pulled as he laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. She watched as he swigged the rest of his pint and began doing his jacket up.
‘Hopefully we’ll see you again soon now you’re back,’ Samuel called after him.
Don’t look up, don’t look up, she kept repeating in her mind. She couldn’t resist. Just a glance. He caught her eye for a second, maybe not even a second, more like a millisecond. She held her breath as she gripped her glass of orange juice. A small gust of wind caught her hair as he opened the door and left. She peeped out of the window, watching him turn right, leaving on foot, out of the car park. She slammed her drink onto the table and left, hurrying towards the path – she couldn’t lose him. She needed to follow him, find out more about his life – finally see his new house.
As she reached the path, she spotted him in the distance. She began following him along the path that led out of town.
It felt like she’d been walking for ages and her toe was now poking through a hole in her sock. There was a dampness in the air, despite the bright weather. She zipped up her jacket. Although there was a bit of sun in the sky, it was still early spring and the wetness of the ground had been seeping into her cheap boots. She hobbled along the country lane, trying to ignore the material that was cutting into her big toe. As he reached an opening in the trees, he took a left into the woodland. The sound of her erratic heartbeat filled her head. It definitely wasn’t safe to be doing what she was doing, especially as she knew what he was capable of. She slipped on a pile of damp leaves and fell onto a branch. The crunch stood out against the gentle birdsong. She edged towards the trunk of a large oak tree and held her breath.
