by D. S. Butler
Karen couldn’t answer that.
DI Morgan moved away from Emily’s bedside and said, ‘Excuse me, I need to take a call. Thank you, Emily. You’ve been very brave.’
Karen spoke to the Deans for a little while, trying to gather as much information as she could, but didn’t keep them long, knowing they needed time alone as a family.
When she left them and had almost exited the ward, she heard heavy footsteps behind her and turned to see Dennis Dean’s tense and angry face.
Karen braced herself. After everything that had happened, the idea of another confrontation with Dennis Dean made her want to curl up into a ball.
Dennis reached for her and Karen stepped back so fast she stumbled. She was surprised when he grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly.
‘Thank you,’ he said gruffly. ‘I mean it. Thank you for bringing my little girl back. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay the favour, you only have to ask.’
Karen extracted her hand but managed a smile. ‘You don’t owe me anything, Dennis. I’m just glad Emily’s safe.’
CHAPTER FORTY
Outside the ward, she found DI Morgan. He ended the call on his mobile and said, ‘I think it’s time to go home, don’t you?’
Karen nodded. She didn’t even want to think about the amount of paperwork they’d have to get through in the coming days.
‘I’ve just spoken to Rick and Sophie,’ DI Morgan said. ‘They’re both pleased with the outcome and relieved you’re okay. If Sian Gibson pulls through, it’s going to be a better result than I dared hope for.’
‘Yes, I wonder how the Gibsons are coping,’ Karen said. ‘Has Thomas found out about his wife’s affair with Matthew Saunders? I suppose it pales into insignificance after what’s happened to Sian.’
‘I don’t think Leanne has told her husband and it’s the least of their worries right now. It has no relevance to the case so there’s no reason for it to come out, but that kind of thing has a way of bubbling to the surface eventually.’
‘I wish we could talk to Cathy tonight,’ Karen said, smothering a yawn. ‘There’s so much I want to ask.’
DI Morgan walked ahead, pushing open a blue swing door and holding it to allow Karen to pass through first. ‘I don’t think we’re going to get all the answers on this case. I think we might have to come to terms with the fact that we’ll never know what made Cathy act the way she did.’
‘Maybe the way she was treated by her father and brother triggered her behaviour. Perhaps she wanted to save Amy, Sian and Emily from going through what she did.’
‘Well, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like Sian was an accidental victim. If Emily told Cathy she was unhappy with her mother’s new boyfriend, then Cathy may have thought she was saving the child in some strange way. And she was obviously concerned about her brother’s interest in Amy Fisher.’
‘True. I can’t help thinking there was something else driving Cathy. Something she hasn’t told us yet.’
They stepped outside the hospital’s main entrance, passed a man in a dressing gown puffing on a cigarette, and were immediately subjected to shouting and camera flashes from press photographers. ‘Are you police? Have the girls from Moore Lane been found? Can you tell us about it?’ someone called out.
How did they know they were detectives? It wasn’t as though they were well known locally. Perhaps she and DI Morgan just looked like police officers. Maybe it was the clothes, Karen thought drily, looking down at her crumpled shirt, creased jacket and grey trousers, which were still muddy around the hems. It was time for a new look.
‘Is it true?’ another of the reporters called out as a flash from a camera went off in Karen’s face. She put her hand up to shade her eyes.
‘Has Amy Fisher been found with the two missing girls from Heighington?’
DI Morgan put an arm around Karen, leading her away from the barrage of press, and called over his shoulder, ‘An official police statement will be presented soon by Superintendent Michelle Murray. That’s all we’ve got to say at the moment.’
They sped up, running away from the journalists and heading towards the car park on the opposite side of the road.
‘I think we lost them,’ Karen said laughing, as they made it to DI Morgan’s car.
DI Morgan rubbed his side. ‘I need to get to the gym more often. I think I’ve got a stitch.’
‘Blame it on the cold night air. I would.’
They got into the car and DI Morgan turned the heater up. Karen felt herself relax.
‘All things considered, today’s result was a good one, don’t you think?’ Karen asked as she fastened her seatbelt.
‘I do. You did well today,’ he said as he reversed out of the parking space. ‘Although, I can’t say I was too happy when I arrived at the windmill to find you were already inside. That was a big risk.’
‘Well, I know I said I’d wait, but when I heard Jasper threatening the children, I just couldn’t hold on,’ Karen said.
DI Morgan was right. It had been a huge risk to her own safety to go into the windmill alone without backup, but in her opinion, some risks were worth taking.
DI Morgan pulled in, parking at the entrance to Karen’s drive.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ DI Morgan asked.
‘Of course,’ Karen said. ‘I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.’
She shut the car door, waved and walked down the driveway. The security light above the garage turned on as she walked past.
She turned to see that DI Morgan hadn’t driven off. He was waiting until she got safely inside. When she turned back, she was face to face with a woman.
‘Christ!’ Karen exclaimed and put her hand on her chest. ‘Where did you spring from?’
It was Mary.
Karen’s stomach tightened when she saw fresh bruises on Mary’s face.
‘Is everything all right, Karen?’ DI Morgan called out. He’d got out of the car after seeing someone else in the driveway.
She turned and waved him off. ‘Everything’s fine. It’s just a friend.’
She bustled Mary towards the front door as DI Morgan finally drove away.
Once inside, Mary stood sheepishly at the foot of the stairs. She looked even worse when Karen switched on the light. Her lip was cut, and although it was no longer bleeding, crusted blood had dried along Mary’s chin.
Karen opened her mouth to once again tell Mary she was a fool to stay with a man who did this to her, but at the last moment she remembered the advice her neighbour, Christine, had given her. Sometimes things can’t be fixed. Sometimes all you can do is listen.
‘Come into the kitchen, Mary,’ Karen said, and locked the front door behind them.
She switched on the kettle and noticed a note stuck to the front of the refrigerator. She peeled it off. It was from Christine, telling her she’d left the homemade lasagne in the fridge with a bag of mixed salad. She’d even left reheating instructions. Karen smiled. She was lucky to have such a good friend.
She turned on the oven, set it at the appropriate temperature and then turned to Mary. ‘You’re in luck. We’ve got a proper meal tonight. How long have you been waiting out there?’
Mary dropped her bag on the floor and wrapped her arms around her midsection, wincing slightly.
‘A while. It’s all right, though. This coat’s quite warm.’
Karen removed the lasagne from the fridge and popped it in the oven.
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’
A look of confusion crossed Mary’s face. She was wondering when the lecture would start. ‘A cuppa would be nice – thanks.’
Karen made the tea in silence and then carried it over to the kitchen table. ‘So what happened?’
Mary shrugged. ‘Same old thing.’
Karen pushed the steaming mug across the table towards Mary. ‘That should warm you up a bit. Actually, I think I’ve got a bottle of brandy about somewhere if you fancy a proper drink.’
> ‘Tea’s fine for me, thanks.’ Mary took a sip and then looked up at Karen. ‘Are you not going to tell me what an idiot I am? I’ve been here at least five minutes and you’ve not mentioned the women’s shelter once.’
Karen smiled. ‘You know what I think, Mary?’
‘No, what?’
‘I think you know you need to make some changes, but you’re not ready to make them yet. So, in that case, I’m not going to judge you. I’m not going to tell you what to do again. I’m just going to listen.’
Mary looked at Karen suspiciously but started to talk. Haltingly at first, then she began to open up.
She carried on talking as they ate the lasagne and finally Mary narrowed her eyes. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
‘Oh, yes, what’s that?’
‘It’s that reverse psychology thing. You think if you don’t tell me to go to the shelter, then I’ll go on my own.’
Karen laughed. ‘I really am trying to help, Mary. If you just need someone to listen, then that’s what I’ll do.’
Mary sighed heavily. ‘I know I’m not supposed to come to your home. You’re someone who’s tried to help me and I’m taking advantage. I just don’t feel safe anywhere else.’
Karen reached out and patted Mary’s hand. ‘Well, you’re safe here, Mary. But it’s late and I’m shattered. So I’m going to have a nice hot shower and then get into bed.’ Karen stood up and gathered their empty plates. ‘You know where everything is, don’t you?’
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
A week passed before Cathy Palmer was ready to talk to the police. Her solicitor would plead diminished responsibility if Cathy was prosecuted for Jasper’s murder, and it was unlikely a murder charge would stick. Cathy may have intended to harm or injure her brother, but she couldn’t have predicted he’d fall and break his neck. The best they could hope for was a charge of manslaughter.
Charges of abduction and child endangerment would be brought against her, but Cathy would likely end up in a mental health facility.
It was hard not to feel a sense of futility as they wrapped up the investigation and ploughed through the mountain of paperwork. Whatever role Jasper had played, he was dead and would never see the inside of a courtroom. There was nothing to indicate Nigel Palmer had been involved in the abductions. He may have been the catalyst that sparked Cathy’s actions, but in the eyes of the law, he was not responsible. He was in the clear, with no ties to Amy Fisher’s abduction and no links to the two girls from Moore Lane Primary School. The only person left to answer for the crimes was Cathy Palmer.
Cathy sat opposite Karen and DI Morgan in interview room three, looking like a whipped puppy and shooting nervous glances towards her solicitor.
‘Cathy wanted to talk to you,’ the solicitor said. ‘I did advise her against it, but she’s been quite insistent. I will, however, stop the interview if I feel the proceedings are detrimental to my client.’
Karen nodded. Cathy Palmer was a tall woman, but she hunched over the desk, trying to take up as little space as possible.
‘I’m glad you’re here, Cathy,’ Karen said. ‘Are you ready to talk now?’
Cathy straightened, tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded meekly. ‘Yes,’ she said in a voice barely above a whisper. ‘I’m ready to tell you everything.’
The solicitor shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Karen suspected that statement was probably one she didn’t like to hear from a client. But if the courts ever did hear the case against Cathy, they could be more lenient if she was repentant and cooperative.
‘How are the girls?’ she asked.
‘Good. Sian is recovering well. All three should recover full fitness in time,’ Karen said.
The fact that it looked as though Sian would recover without any permanent injuries seemed to comfort Cathy. Her charges would have been a lot more serious if one of the girls had died.
Cathy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m so glad she’s going to be okay. I don’t think I could cope with any more death. Are you going to charge me with the murder?’
‘We’ve discussed this, Cathy,’ the solicitor said with thinly disguised irritation.
‘You won’t be charged with Jasper’s murder, Cathy, but it’s likely you’ll be charged with abducting the girls,’ Karen explained.
‘But what about the other murder?’
‘What other murder, Cathy? The girls are home and recovering. No one else died. Only Jasper.’
Cathy looked up, glancing at DI Morgan and then looking back at Karen. ‘But someone else did die.’
It seemed like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and for a moment, no one said a word. DI Morgan seemed just as taken aback as Karen, and the solicitor’s jaw dropped open.
The solicitor recovered her wits first. ‘Just a minute,’ she said, turning to Cathy. ‘This is a new development and I think I need to confer further with my client.’
Karen ignored her. ‘No one else died, Cathy. Amy’s doing well. She’s going to be moving back to Scotland with her parents. Sian will be going home soon, and Emily’s safely back with her parents.’
Karen met Cathy’s gaze, and it hit her. Of course. Why hadn’t she guessed?
She turned to DI Morgan as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. ‘I think Cathy should tell us the story from the beginning.’
Autumn had been especially cold this year, DI Morgan thought as he braced himself against the bitter October wind. Karen stood beside him on a patch of windblown grass close to the hedgerow that ran the length of the field. They were less than five hundred metres from the Palmer farmhouse.
Karen’s face was set in grim determination as she stared at the spot in front of her, and the team continued to dig. They’d cut away a section of earth, digging down two feet but had found nothing so far.
DI Morgan was confident they would, though. Cathy had told her story with conviction, and she had nothing to gain by lying. They had no reason to doubt her.
When he’d asked if she was sure about the exact location, she looked at him in disbelief and said the place was burned into her memory.
They’d listened in silent horror as Cathy told them her story.
She’d been only twelve years old when her father had bludgeoned her mother to death in front of her. She and Jasper had been forced to scrub her blood from the kitchen tiles, and then help dig the grave to bury their mother.
Helpless and unable to stand up to her father, she’d done as she was told and covered up for him. Keeping the dark secret meant she slowly withdrew from public life because she hated having to repeat the well-rehearsed lie that their mother had left them and she and Jasper still went to visit her occasionally.
Nigel Palmer certainly seemed to have thought of everything.
When he killed his wife Gwendolyn, ten years his junior, back in 1987, he’d told the whole village she’d run off with another man to live on a boat in Norfolk.
He’d hidden the children away for a couple of weeks during the Easter and summer holidays. When they returned to school, they’d been instructed to tell their teachers and friends they’d spent time with their mother on the boat and learned to sail.
Nigel Palmer’s plan worked well. Gwendolyn’s parents had passed away before she’d married him, and there was no one else who cared enough to report her missing. Acquaintances, neighbours and Cathy and Jasper’s school friends and teachers fell for the story hook, line and sinker.
Her disappearance was never reported to the police or considered suspicious, but her death had scarred Jasper and Cathy deeply.
Knowing this history, it was easy to understand Cathy’s motivations. She saw Jasper morphing into the image of their father, and noticing his interest in Amy Fisher, she’d wanted to protect the young woman she viewed as a friend.
Cathy was terrified she’d end up in a shallow grave just like her mother.
She’d believed she was protecting Emily too. The girl was unhappy at home and neglected
. She told Cathy her mother’s new boyfriend scared her. In Cathy’s twisted mind, she’d saved Amy and could do it again with Emily.
DI Morgan thought that perhaps in some strange way Cathy had saved Emily. If the child hadn’t been abducted, would Phil Carver have continued to groom her right under her mother’s nose?
A call from the digging team pulled DI Morgan back to the present. From where he stood, he could see material and a pattern of what looked like an old carpet. He heard Karen’s sharp intake of breath as the team worked to clear the dirt away.
A short time later, Gwendolyn Palmer’s body was removed from the soil.
Seated at her desk at Nettleham station, Karen stifled a yawn. It had been a long, tiring and very sad day. Watching the exhumation of Gwendolyn Palmer’s body had been more emotional than Karen had expected. She felt desperately sorry for the woman. She’d died in such a violent manner, and then to add salt to the wound, nobody had ever reported her missing.
Karen stretched, trying to release the ache between her shoulder blades. ‘What do you say to an evening at the pub?’ She turned to face Sophie and Rick, who were busily typing away on their computers.
‘That sounds like a great idea to me,’ Sophie said.
Rick looked up but didn’t reply, and then DI Morgan strolled up to Karen’s desk. ‘How are things going?’
‘Slowly,’ Karen said. ‘It’s always the way with paperwork. I thought we could all do with a night out. What do you say?’
DI Morgan looked a little surprised at the invitation but nodded. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’
Karen logged off her computer and grinned at DI Morgan. ‘It’s pie night at the Waggon and Horses in Branston,’ she said. ‘They make a fantastic steak pie.’
‘Is it really that good?’ he asked.
‘The best I’ve ever tasted.’
He returned her smile. ‘All right, sold. Sophie?’
