Unlikely Graves (Detective Inspector Paul Amos Mystery series)

by Rodney Hobson

  As Amos struggled through three traumatic years of accepting that he no longer believed in god, he similarly struggled with relationships with the opposite sex. He had gradually come to terms with being estranged from the supreme creator; he had never realized that girls had physical desires and needs just as boys did. This stunted emotional upbringing left Amos utterly unprepared for what was about to be unleashed. Even Swift, who did understand how girls ticked, had no inkling as she watched the short, dumpy but undeniably sexual young woman ease back in her chair, deliberately pushing up her breasts and displaying an unnecessary amount of thick thigh to provoke Amos.

  Evans clearly shopped at cheap but trendy boutiques where you could buy brightly coloured, risque clothes to wear half a dozen times then throw them to the bottom of the wardrobe as they started to come unstitched. Today’s colour was red, a light crimson pelmet skirt with a pink floral top, its scalloped neckline emphasizing her female shape. Evans crossed her legs with a coy smile and, having increased the amount of flesh exposed at one end of her body, threw back her pony tail, which had been draped down one side of her neck, with a well practised flick of her head.

  ‘So you’ve come about Harry Randall. What kept you? You seem to have been round half the town. Why was I left to the end? Were you afraid of me?’

  ‘Did you know him?’ Amos asked, ignoring the girl’s taunt. He was starting to hope that, at last, here was a girl who would admit that she did.

  ‘Yes, I knew him. He was a dirty old man,’ she replied with a short laugh.

  Amos was a little taken aback by this bluntness after so many lies and evasions.

  ‘Why do you say that?’ he asked a little too eagerly. ‘Did he hang around the school gate? Did he talk to the girls as they left school?’

  Evans laughed again, this time with a genuine laugh rather than for effect.

  ‘Oh, no. He kept well away from the school. He wasn’t stupid.’

  ‘So how did you know him?’

  Evans settled in her chair, ready for a long session. ‘It all began in Wainfleet,’ she said deliberately. ‘At the chip shop.’

  She enjoyed the puzzled look on Amos’s face.

  ‘Pat Smith and I and a couple of mates – all girls,’ she added hastily, correctly anticipating the question as Amos made to speak, ‘were out getting bladdered. That’s drunk to you. Well, it was Friday night and we were glad to get out of the dreadful school uniforms – green, for god’s sake. I’ll never wear that colour again. Pat was a bit tipsy. Yes, I know we were under age but the landlord wasn’t too bothered. We all looked 18 and he didn’t ask. Landlords didn’t then. The police round here hadn’t started winding them up,’ Evans added in a slightly accusing tone. ‘I’m sure you have better things to do.’

  If only, thought Amos. Underage drinking had been one of the Chief Constable’s betes noirs, a short lived but intense phase as all his passing fancies were. If he found out about this he would be off on another rampage.

  ‘Please go on.’

  ‘Well, we wandered about for a bit o fresh air, mainly so Grace could sober up a bit. She was a year older than us and had passed her driving test first time on account of all the practice she had driving round her dad’s farm. Randall was coming out of the chip shop – you know, the one where they still use coal to heat the fat. It makes the chips taste better.’

  Amos didn’t know about the coal-fired chip shop and didn’t greatly care. ‘Please stick to the story,’ he said as one whose patience was starting to be tried.

  Evans was visibly amused at the sidetrack, which gave the real point of her unfolding story greater impact. She leaned forward so far that Amos thought her breasts would pop out of the top. He half hoped that they would despite his prurient nature. Evans uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way before continuing slowly and deliberately.

  ‘Pat had this disgusting T shirt on. It had a picture of a large cockerel on the front and words suggesting the best way to be woken up in a morning.’

  Evans rolled her tongue round her lips and looked deliberately at Amos. She made no attempt to conceal her amusement just as Amos was unable to conceal his discomfort.

  ‘Do you want to know the exact words? – if I can remember them,’ Evans asked coyly. She pretended to think hard but it was obvious that she knew precisely what the offending slogan said.

  ‘There’s no need,’ Swift interposed. ‘We get the general idea. We can fill in the blanks for ourselves.’

  Evans was not to be deprived of her shock tactics, though.

  ‘Well, that dirty old man looked straight at Pat’s breasts, reading the words out loud. Not that she minded.’ Evans added hastily. ‘She stood there quite brazen. He read out the words twice then he looked her straight in the face and said that was how he was woken every morning and he wished someone would put it down. Pat offered to do the job on Monday but it would have to be in the afternoon as she was still at school. Randall was a bit alarmed. He asked if she was too young but Pat said not to worry she was old enough to cope. Even so, Randall insisted on knowing how old she was. As we soon found out, he always did. He wouldn’t even look at a girl who was under 16. Anyway, he said he couldn’t wait that long as the lack of sleep was driving him crazy. He walked across to a car park just off the road on the opposite side. We tried to stop Pat following him – we didn’t know Randall then and it was dangerous to go off with a stranger who was obviously randy. Our mums told us not to go off with strangers,’ Evans added in a matter of fact way that sounded comical in the circumstances. Pat wasn’t listening. She bounced across the road – and in that T shirt I mean bounced – and got in the front passenger seat. We just stood there open mouthed at her audacity as they drove down to the market square, turned round and tootled off up the road with Pat waving out through the open window.

  ‘Well, we’d cleared our heads a bit so the three of us went back to the pub. Besides, we wanted to tell a couple of others from school who were there in a separate car. Pat rang me next morning. I was a bit relieved, what with her going off like that with a strange man who obviously only wanted one thing. Not that Pat was a virgin. She’d started at 14 before anyone else in our class but at least that was with a boy she knew.’

  ‘Was she all right?’ Amos asked anxiously.

  ‘Course she was,’ Evans responded with a tone of derision. ‘Pat could look after herself. She just wanted to warn me that if her mother asked I was to say that she had stayed the night at our house. She sounded very chirpy. She had put it about a bit, usually with boys from other towns so word wouldn’t get back to her parents. Her dad was a Methodist. This time it was a bit close to home. It turned out that Randall lived here on the south side of Lincoln but he used to live near Skegness, which is why he knew the chip shop. He’d been back for a funeral of someone he knew in Croft.’

  Having started out on the beat in Skegness, Amos was familiar with Croft, a village on the A52 heading towards Wainfleet.

  ‘Pat said she’d had a fantastic night. Randall might have been old but he knew what to do, she said. Quality rather than quantity. Anyway, she was ringing from home and I could hear someone opening their front door so she couldn’t say any more. We agreed to meet up that afternoon so she could fill me in on the details. We met in the park where we could talk without anyone overhearing. Randall had suggested a threesome and Pat wanted me to come along on the Tuesday. She said I could just watch if I wasn’t sure. Well, you see Pat knew I wasn’t keen on sex. I’d only done it once with John Reynolds and he didn’t have much idea. It was really painful. I didn’t want to go through that again. But Pat kept banging on about it so I agreed. I nearly chickened out but I’m so glad I didn’t. Old man Randall was everything Pat had cracked him up to be. We went up to his bedroom and he certainly knew how to undress a girl. Pat’s clothes were off in a trice and she was squealing in ecstasy before you knew it. I was amazed. Randall had shot his bolt but he pulled me onto the bed, put his hand up my skirt and i
nto my knickers. I had an orgasm within seconds. Pat was right. He certainly knew what to do. We went back on the Wednesday and this time I went first and did it properly. He saw to Pat half an hour later, then we had to go home or our parents would be wondering where we were.’

  ‘Next day at school Emma Green heard us talking about it so we persuaded her to come. She’d got a steady boyfriend and was getting her share but we told her how exciting it was so she decided to give it a go. She wasn’t disappointed. Evans was in full flow. No longer was she pausing to see whether Amos was shocked or embarrassed. This was the joy of the storyteller bringing an adventure to life for an audience and Evans was as good at telling the tale as she had apparently been acting her role in the sordid saga. We had a bit of a damp squib with Sarah Daley. She was the first virgin to take part. We didn’t really want her to go as we knew she was likely to spoil everything but she lived just down the road from me and she threatened to tell my parents if we didn’t count her in.’ We managed to keep the fun secret from her for best part of a month but then Emma told her one lunchtime and we were left with no choice. I don’t think she quite believed what Emma told her and wanted to find out for herself. She wanted to know all about sex after her mother told her what happened in bed but she was a bit scared of it. I couldn’t imagine her letting a boy see her naked. Well, I was right. We had a right performance, I can tell you. Randall was all for sending her packing but he picked up interest when we told him she was still a virgin. He said he’d never had a virgin in his life and there was a first time for everything. He said his wife had been married before and he’d never had young girls even after she died.

  ‘Sarah was spooked out by all this but she was still fascinated. Finally she agreed and we got her up to the bedroom. Randall was naked on the bed when she changed her mind again. Me and Pat were getting really cheesed off by now. Pat demanded to know if she wanted to do it or not. Sarah said yes, no, she wasn’t sure. So Pat grabbed her by the arms and I whipped her clothes off. She struggled at first and tried to cling onto her top as I pulled it down her arms but two of us were too strong for her. Randall was urging us on. Sarah was blubbing. Then we got her onto the bed. Pat kneeled at the bedhead and pinned down her arms. I sat at the bottom and held her legs apart. Sarah just froze. Then he broke her in. She never uttered a sound. When it was over we let her go and she got dressed without saying a word. We told her not to breathe a word of this to a living soul and as far as I know she never did. She was too ashamed.’

  ‘You do realize you committed rape,’ Amos exclaimed. ‘Just because it was Randall having sex with her doesn’t get you off the hook. Helping him counts as rape on your part.’

  ‘Get a bloody life,’ Evans fired back. ‘She wanted it, OK? She really wanted to do it but she hadn’t the guts. She was always wanting to join in things then dropping out. Hockey, Friday night boozing, discos and then Randall. Wanting to join in then running off home to mummy half way through. She enjoyed it, really. What a bloody drama queen. Anyway, what sort of case do you think you can put together against me and Pat? Randall’s dead, Sarah daren’t tell you anything and me and Pat aren’t going to give you signed confessions.’

  Amos subsided. This was a pretty sharp young woman. How on earth could Swift take it all so calmly, he wondered. It was like juries on sexual assault cases. It was the men who were more likely to convict male defendants while the women let down the victims. Did they really swallow this ‘she must have asked for it’ line or were they punishing the female for letting the side down and leaving herself vulnerable in the first place? Amos could never work it out, yet he knew from experience that women were more likely to acquit sex offenders than men were. He had seen it in court too often. Coldly, Amos said: ‘Sarah Daley didn’t enjoy it, really. She starved herself to death.’

  Now it was the turn of Christine Evans to look shocked.

  Chapter 21

  Amos was relieved to leave the intensity of the sitting room in which he and Swift had been bombarded with so much heavily laden information. The inspector almost gasped for air as he emerged first onto the pavement, like a casual swimmer who has stayed underwater for too long. He did not look back as he walked towards the car, checking himself after a couple of hasty strides that betrayed his discomfort.

  Swift, calm and matter of fact, went through the formalities of thanking a smirking Christine for her cooperation and information, adding routinely that ‘we may need to talk to you again’.

  Christine was only too eager to assure Swift that she was not going anywhere soon and would be only too delighted to furnish ‘any more details I can remember’.

  Swift made no attempt to catch Amos up, walking in unison but a couple of steps behind in the style of a dutiful wife of a past generation. Amos turned on reaching the car, his composure recovered, and nonchalantly tossed her the keys.

  ‘Do you mind driving?’ he asked unnecessarily. ‘You can think and drive at the same time better than I can.’

  Swift caught the keys, though not cleanly. She had expected Amos to lean against the car and ponder for a few moments.

  ‘Sure,’ she said non-committedly. The car was parked on the wrong side of the road, so she opened the door and slipped in while Amos walked round the front to the passenger side, his face not visible to her. In any case, Swift did not look up at him but concentrated on adjusting the driving seat and mirror. It was a charade but as long as both players stuck to the rules there would be no embarrassment when they both had to face each other sooner rather than later.

  ‘Do you think she was exaggerating?’

  The words made Swift jump visibly, since she had not expected Amos to speak yet. She was not paying attention to him as he closed the front passenger door and pulled down his seat belt. This wasn’t in the rules of the charade. He had recovered his composure more quickly than she had reckoned on. Swift paused, her hand on the unturned ignition key. Best to just carry on naturally.

  ‘Probably,’ she responded after a couple of moment’s thought. ‘I daresay it was embellished a bit, though not by much and perhaps not at all. I’m quite sure the basic story was true.’

  ‘Oh, that I have no doubt about,’ Amos said firmly, leaving Swift wondering why he had asked her opinion in the first place. ‘It accounts for all the entries in the diary, which she almost certainly did not know about.’

  ‘It also explains why all the other girls were so reluctant to admit that they even knew Randall, let alone why their initials were in the diary. Oh yes, we have the full, unexpurgated and possibly unvarnished account of the secret and sordid life of Randall at last.’

  Amos paused to click his seatbelt in place and Swift stated the engine. As she glanced in the rear mirror she could see Evans leaning against her doorpost with her arms folded and an amused expression on her face. She had evidently enjoyed the fact that her revelation had given the police officers something to chew over.Silence followed as Swift manoeuvred out into the road, Amos looking over his shoulder to give her the all clear as they pulled across.

  ‘It does raise the question,’ Amos finally pronounced, ‘of whether Randall’s murder and the demise of his son, if that is who was on the tip, are unconnected after all. Are they just an unfortunate coincidence? Two different, entirely unconnected killers? We don’t even know if the boy was murdered, though he probably was or why else would his body have been disposed of so unceremoniously?’

  ‘Hmm,’ Swift responded. She screwed up her face in thought. ‘Too much of a coincidence for me. A body turns up and, lo and behold, his father is immediately murdered. It’s stretching it a bit.’

  Amos thought for a few moments.

  ‘It doesn’t really matter,’ he decided. ‘We want to keep control of both operations anyway. But let’s keep an open mind.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘However,’ Amos said with emphasis, ‘we do now need to consider the possibility that one of the girls, willing or not in the great seduction scena
rio, murdered Randall.’

  ‘There are loads of possibilities. One of the girls may have met him again recently. She could have gone back to his place for a reprise and it went wrong. Or perhaps Randall leered at her and she wanted to keep a lid on the sordid events of up to five years ago.’

  ‘Especially,’ Amos lurched about with renewed vigour, ‘if her mother was around when she bumped into him. You saw how the presence of mothers caused the girls to clamp up. One or two protested too much.’

  ‘Sorry, sir, but I still don’t buy the coincidence line,’ Swift said respectfully.

  ‘Don’t apologise,’ Amos assured her. ‘I need you to offer alternatives and point out the flaws. You’re better at seeing them than anyone else on the team.’

  Chapter 22

  The following morning DC Yates produced another breakthrough. Deep and dusty among the archives was buried the file of the mysterious disappearance of Randall’s daughter Rita. Amos flicked through a detailed and conscientiously recorded summary of the case, drawn up by the officer in charge, the now retired Inspector Barry Winchester. Rita had been visiting her boyfriend in Lincoln for the weekend in a small redbrick terrace house near Lincoln City football ground. The area was dotted with many such anonymous streets. Her father was at that time still living in Croft.