by Graham Smith
Beth wondered if that’s what his skill was, calming worried or hysterical relatives, because there was no way he could be classed as a man of action.
She got why Mrs Brown had reacted the way she had. The woman’s greatest fear would be the police arriving to inform her of her daughter’s death.
‘What is it then?’
‘We think we’ve found Willow’s phone.’ Beth opened her briefcase and lifted the evidence bag and held it where Mrs Brown could see the mobile. ‘Do you recognise this?’
‘Yes. That’s our Willow’s.’ Mrs Brown lurched forward. ‘Give it to me. That’s my daughter’s phone and I want it. You have no right to keep it.’
Kieran moved so he was between Beth and Mrs Brown. ‘We’re sorry, but now you’ve identified it as being your daughter’s it’s evidence. We’ll need to keep it for a while, but only so we can use it to find Willow for you.’
Mrs Brown collapsed onto a chair. Her hands hid her face, but they couldn’t conceal her whimpers.
Beth gave Kieran a mental gold star for the way he’d handled Mrs Brown. After his performance at the river, he was still in negative equity, but at least he’d prevented an ugly scene. She may have refrained from offering false hope, but once he’d received a tongue-lashing from an aggrieved relative when he failed to live up to his promises, he’d learn.
Beth eased herself down until she was crouched at Mrs Brown’s eye level. ‘I’m sorry, I know this is a tough time for you, but I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you.’
‘What is it? What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything if it helps you find my daughter.’
With as much consideration for Mrs Brown’s sensibilities as she could inject into her words, Beth put her questions forward. When she asked if Willow had complained about any men who’d creeped her out, Mrs Brown had shaken her head so violently Beth could hear the woman’s neck crack.
Having seen how fragile Mrs Brown could be, it didn’t surprise Beth that Willow hadn’t mentioned anything to her mother. The woman was the type of person to worry herself about things that would never happen, and such news would likely have triggered sleepless nights.
For a moment she wondered where Willow’s father was, and then she thought of what her own father would do in the man’s position. He’d drive round looking for her. He’d recruit all the friends and family members he could, and set up his own search parties.
Mr Brown had seemed to be cut from the same cloth as her own father and as such, he’d be unable to wait at home. He’d have to be out, doing something. Looking for Willow himself rather than sit at home feeling useless.
With her last question answered, Beth nodded to Kieran and then stood to leave. The next part of the trail had been mapped out, and all she could do was hope it wasn’t a dead end.
Sixty-Four
The woman who opened the door to them wasn’t what Beth was expecting of Willow’s closest work colleague. She’d anticipated the Natalie that Willow’s mother had referred to would be of a similar age to Willow.
Natalie appeared to be retirement age, but regardless of the lines on her face and the grey in her hair, she dressed and styled herself as if thirty years younger. It was a hard thing to do, but she pulled it off. Her home was also furnished in a modern and stylish way.
Beth explained why they were troubling her as it was obvious from Kieran’s uniform who they were.
‘I’d heard she’d gone off. It’s not like her, I have to say. She’s dependable and not at all impulsive.’
‘We’d like to know if she complained to you about anyone who made her feel uneasy. You know, creeped her out?’
Natalie rubbed at her chin as she thought. ‘There’s a few people who pissed her off, but that’s part of the job. When you’re giving financial advice to folk, there’s always some who think they know best or have unrealistic expectations.’
‘That’s not what I’m looking for, unless they lost a fortune. She’s a good-looking woman and I’m after anyone who may have been inappropriate to her. Can you think of any names she might have mentioned?’
Beth fell silent and shot a warning look at Kieran in case he spoke and interrupted Natalie’s train of thought.
‘There were a couple of people she asked me about. One is a right charmer, or at least he thinks he is; truth be told he’s more of a lech than anything else. He’s on his fourth or maybe fifth wife. Believe me, he chases anything in a skirt. One time I was there he openly ogled me when his wife was sitting beside him.’
Natalie scrunched her nose. ‘I never liked him. I can’t say he was ever anything but polite with me, but I always got the sense that he was undressing me in his mind. He never did anything about it, never flirted or asked me out, but he was the type to always be trying to sneak a look down your blouse if you know what I mean?’
‘I do indeed.’
The way Kieran blushed made Beth like him that little bit less.
As much as Beth liked what she was hearing, the fact this man had been married a few times suggested that he didn’t have a problem meeting and seducing women. This was at odds with every psychological profile she could think of for the Lakeland Ripper. All the same she jotted down his name and address.
‘And the other guy?’
‘If it’s the guy I’m thinking of, he’s a farmer, well he used to be. Now all he does is rent his fields and sheds out. Other than keeping the fences and hedges in good order, he doesn’t do much at all. He tried to flirt with me every time I had to visit him, and I’m sure he’ll have done the same with a bonny lass like Willow.’
‘Did he have a wife, a girlfriend?’
‘Not as far as I was ever aware.’ Natalie’s nose gave a rabbit wrinkle. ‘Tell you the truth, he’s not an attractive man. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not physically ugly, more that he tries too hard with his flirting and makes inappropriate comments all the time.’
Beth’s pulse raced as she listened to Natalie’s opinion of the farmer. Everything the woman was saying about him was making him a prime suspect.
‘Do you have his name and address?’
‘I can’t remember his name. Sorry. But I do know that he has a farm that’s about halfway to ’Spatri, it’s something Scales. A compass point, but I can’t remember if it’s north, south, east or west. Sorry.’
Beth understood the abbreviated name for Aspatria. The Scales farm shouldn’t be hard to find. There wouldn’t be that many options, and a quick search of an electoral register would yield the right result if she couldn’t google it on her phone.
One thing was for sure, once she found where the farm was, she’d be going there, and if Kieran was coming, he’d be riding in her car. As she’d followed him across Maryport to Natalie’s house he’d been the most cautious driver she’d ever encountered. It was as though he was sitting his driving test or chauffeuring the queen.
Sixty-Five
Willow’s entire body ached as she fought against the ropes restraining her. Her wrists were chafed raw from the rough hemp, as were her ankles. The muscles of her arms and legs were numb from hours spent thrashing in vain efforts to free herself. Even her neck and back hurt from where she’d contorted herself in attempts to put all her strength behind one particular limb.
Yet by comparison to the shame that she felt at having been so careless as to have been captured by what she’d thought was a white knight, none of the sprains or chafes or aches could begin to compete with the dread in her heart.
It hadn’t been a noble rescue. It had been a real frying pan to fire experience. She’d read the papers, watched the news. Willow knew all about the four women who’d been raped and murdered. She’d learned with horror of the fate which had befallen them.
Andrew Cooper had visited her three further times since he’d brought her here after saving her by the river on Friday night.
Each of his visits brought a new level of horror.
Once he’d tied her up, he’d talked to her for
an hour. She’d been disgusted by the way he’d outlined his sexual fantasies in detail after lurid detail.
On his next visit, he’d ripped every shred of clothing from her body.
His third visit had creeped her out even further. He’d brought a camera with him and had taken hundreds of photos of her as she lay trussed to the bed. He had taken pictures from the other side of the room and he’d held the camera an inch away from the flesh he was making crawl with his actions.
Cooper’s fourth visit gave her the most concern though. He’d brought a basin of water, a towel and a sponge. He’d washed her from head to toe in silence. The only saving grace was that, as much as his eyes caressed her body, all she felt touching her skin was the coarse sponge.
Willow knew in her bones that it was only a matter of time before he raped her. The cleansing was a sure sign that he was preparing her as a receptacle for his lusts.
The sound of footsteps clumping along wooden floorboards made Willow thrash against the ropes even harder, as she knew what would happen to her when her captor entered the room.
She knew she couldn’t defend herself. And that if Cooper was the Lakeland Ripper he’d be planning to kill her once he’d enacted his fantasies with her.
Willow didn’t want either to happen, but the only defence she could think to mount was to hold onto the full bladder she was struggling with until she could be sure he’d be within range. The cleansing of her body had shown hygiene was important to him, and while it might earn her a few punches, it may well also keep her alive a little longer while he cleaned them both up.
Sixty-Six
The farmhouse at North Scales was surrounded by whitewashed farm buildings. Somewhere in the distance Beth could hear the heavy diesel engine of a tractor, and her nose was assaulted by the pungent farmyard smells. The air hung with the mixed smells of freshly cut grass and the tangy, potent stench of manure.
Outside the front door a black pickup truck sat with its nose an inch from the wall. The vehicle was layered with dust, but its licence plate showed it as being only a year old.
She remembered the description of Andrew Cooper from Natalie and what she’d heard had strengthened her belief that he may be the Lakeland Ripper. She could imagine the teenage Cooper being rejected by the girls he’d fancied because of his cack-handed approach. This would continue into adulthood, all the while fostering the bitterness inside him. If he was the Lakeland Ripper and his penis was as small as Dr Hewson had speculated, then he’d have even less appeal to the opposite sex. If he was their killer though, nothing on earth could justify what he’d done.
‘We should call for backup.’
‘Do we have any hard facts to reinforce our suspicions?’
Kieran answered Beth’s question with a shake of his head.
Beth pressed a finger against the doorbell. ‘In that case, we check it out; if we get any kind of confirmation, we can get all the backup you want. If not, we keep looking for Willow.’
She couldn’t hear the doorbell sound inside the house, but it was possible its buzzer sounded in a room at the other end of the building.
Nothing happened, so she held her finger against the button for the count of ten.
Nothing happened a second time.
She rapped her knuckles against the door, but still nobody came to answer it.
Beth tried the door handle. It was locked.
On the assumption that Cooper must be out and about, she decided to scout round the house. With Kieran trailing after her mumbling a series of protests, Beth walked along the house’s wall. When she came to a corner she veered away from the wall in case Cooper was lying in wait.
She encountered a small wooden porch which had a couple of jackets on its ledges and a pair of wellies standing beside a sliding door.
Beth tried sliding the door open, but it wouldn’t budge, so she resumed her circuit of the farmhouse’s exterior.
The next corner she rounded brought her into an unkempt garden. She could see where flowerbeds had once bloomed before being neglected. A ranch fence had rotten timbers and peeling white paint.
As she walked along the front of the house, she could begin to hear a faint noise that got louder as she neared the far end of the building. It was music, but not the kind of music that she expected to hear at 10.00 a.m. on a Sunday morning.
It was possible that Cooper was having a Sunday morning roll-together with someone, but she knew that for a farmer, anything after 9.00 a.m. was considered to be the middle of the afternoon.
The music got louder as she approached a window where the curtains were drawn. Considering that the window overlooked nothing but fields, she thought it strange the curtains were closed, so she put her ear to the glass. She held the position for the count of ten, then wheeled away, grabbing at Kieran’s arm as she went.
As soon as she was ten paces from the window she broke into a run.
The begging she’d heard wasn’t part of any Sunday morning roll-together.
As she ran she explained to Kieran what she’d heard.
Beth saw his hand reach for his radio, but there was no way that she was going to wait for backup. If her suspicions were right, Cooper was in the throes of raping or murdering Willow and she had to save her.
A flick of her wrist brought her extendable baton to its full length.
The glass of the sliding door broke on the first strike. After a circular sweep of the baton to clear the glass, Beth snaked a hand in and slid the bolt free of the door.
Various outdoor clothing hung on a coatrack as she passed through a utility room that had cured meats hanging from hooks. She passed through the kitchen, hardly pausing to look at the Aga or the long table with timber benches at either side as she progressed towards the area of the house where the music was blaring out.
Beth slowed her pace as she neared the music’s source. The music reduced the need for stealth, but she still didn’t take silly risks.
She cast a look at Kieran: his face was pale, but his jaw was set in determination. He too had his baton extended.
Beth took her pepper spray from her pocket. She used the tip of the baton to indicate that Kieran should open the door. He took two swallows before he reached out his hand, but at least he was rising to the occasion.
Too much, in fact: he shouldered the door open as soon as he’d pressed the handle down and charged into the room.
Beth was at his heel as he tripped over something on the floor and went sprawling in a heap. She wasn’t watching him though; she was conscious of the two figures on the bed: a naked woman and a man wearing a grubby shirt and black socks.
The man sprang off the woman and lashed a foot backwards at Kieran as the young PC was clambering back upright.
There was a crunching slap as Cooper’s heel struck Kieran’s jaw and sent him back to the ground. From the way he slumped, Beth knew she wouldn’t get any help from him for a while.
Cooper raised himself to his full height. The top of his head may have been level with Beth’s shoulder, but he was no less intimidating because he was short.
His eyes were the thing that scared Beth the most. They were sinkholes, lying dormant, until they chose to swallow something up.
Cooper pointed at the woman tied to the bed as he stepped towards Beth, his arms at his sides like a gunfighter about to draw his pistols. ‘It looks like I’m getting me a two-for-one deal.’
Sixty-Seven
Beth held her baton like a sword, but Cooper paid it no heed as he lurched forward full of menace.
He continued forward, his left arm rising to deflect the blow Beth was aiming at him.
The baton thudded against his bicep causing him to yelp, but he didn’t slow down.
Beth stepped back, brought the baton into her body and tried a backhand slash.
It didn’t work as Cooper had closed the gap enough that she couldn’t get any real power into the blow.
She could smell his foul, kippery breath as he reached for he
r. The pepper spray in her left hand hissed as it shot into Cooper’s face.
He yowled in pain, but he’d built up a momentum that caused him to crash into Beth.
His arms wound around her waist as he fell to the floor. Beth found herself being dragged down by him. He was thrashing about, swearing at the pain as he rubbed his face against her shirt.
Somehow Beth found herself beneath Cooper as they writhed on the floor. Her trying to escape him, and Cooper trying to alleviate the agony in his eyes.
Cooper’s face was pressing against her stomach as he tried to use the material of her blouse as a cloth to wipe away the pepper spray. His head sawing back and forth moved up her body until his forehead was buffeting her breasts.
Beth jabbed the point of her baton into Cooper’s kidneys, but all it achieved was a grunted oof as he continued to writhe above her. With Cooper showing no signs of calming down, she adjusted her aim and caught the back of his head.
Cooper slumped a little, but continued to fight against her.
She hit him again, harder.
His movements stopped apart from slight twitches of his head.
Beth took hold of Cooper’s right arm and hauled him sideways. He moved six inches.
She had to repeat the action three times before she could wriggle out from under him; but as soon as she was free, she snapped her cuffs onto his wrists. She’d read him his rights when he came to.
The woman on the bed had taken to sobbing and when Beth looked at Kieran, she found him on his knees, shaking his head from side to side as he tried to deal with his brief concussion.
Beth whipped off her jacket and laid it over the woman’s naked body. Her next move was to start untying the woman’s wrists.
‘Kieran. You okay?’
‘Yeah.’ He sounded groggy to Beth, but he could be checked out when an ambulance got here.
