by Deborah Lucy
‘I wish I could help you with that. Women and love and all that stuff are things that passed me by, as you know. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a pretty woman and there’s been one or two along the way, but who in their right mind would put up with me and all this?’ Richard held up his arms and gestured around him.
Temple smiled back. The whole cottage was a homage to his archaeological career. It was cluttered with a lifetime’s work on the subject with columns of papers and files and row upon row of books on a large span of floor-to-ceiling shelves.
‘Besides, everything takes place on bloody mobile phones these days, all that texting and Facebooking – I haven’t even got a mobile, so that counts me out, and that thing over there,’ he gestured towards his laptop, ‘is nearly steam-driven. At my age, I’d rather drool over a rare coin or a flint arrowhead. But if there’s anything I can do for you or Leigh, let me know. You were good together.’
‘I know. I didn’t come here to bellyache to you though. I came here to give you some news about Op Acre. About six months ago, they found an exhibit, the blue T-shirt I was wearing at the time. It came to light in a loft clear-out at the home of the original SIO, Roy Filer. Op Acre was the last case before he retired. He’s now dead.’
‘I remember Filer, very gaunt-looking man. I remember him coming to see us, your grandfather and I. But surely that’s what we’ve been looking for? Something tangible, some evidence at last, and now it’s turned up.’ He gave the cup he was stirring some celebratory taps with a spoon.
‘Yesterday I spoke with the deputy chief constable who told me that they wouldn’t be pursuing Acre any further. They have a DNA profile from the T-shirt but they’re saying there are no suspects or new lines of enquiry and they have to prioritise other things. Case closed, pending new evidence. He’s going to write to you.’
‘Not pursuing it any further? Well he can shove his bloody priorities!’ It was uncharacteristic of him but the unresolved murder of his sister made Richard Temple rear up. ‘You can’t just leave a case like that. You see it all the time in the news – a cold case is resurrected and with modern technology suspects are revealed. I’ll write to him. We’ll keep up the pressure. We’ll carry on.’
‘He’s adamant that no more money will be spent. I’ve also been given an order to stay away from the case. I’ve got a disciplinary hearing coming up next week and I at least need to be seen to be following orders.’
‘If you’ve been given an order to stay away, you have no choice. But that doesn’t apply to me. What is it with your lot? Isn’t it their priority to find a bloody murderer? Why stop now when there’s hard evidence – are they trying to cover up? What’s going on?’
‘I can see where they’re coming from; it would be resource intensive and other jobs keep coming in in the meantime.’ Temple never thought he would find himself defending Buller. ‘But as you say, there is still a murderer out there and now they have a tangible link to him. I agree, to call time on it now is bizarre.’
‘Well, he’ll get it in the neck from me, this DCC of yours. What are your chances at the disciplinary hearing?’
‘Not good – they’ll find me guilty, I’m sure of that. I just don’t know what the sanction will be. A written warning if I’m lucky. Worse perhaps. I’m not exactly popular with the force hierarchy, so I’ll have to be on my best behaviour from then on.’
‘Of course you need to keep your job, but there’s nothing to stop me from carrying on with it. They can’t push me around. We’ve both been conducting our own enquiries for so long anyway, with no help from your colleagues in the police. Look, you came across a man in the caravan when you found Gabby and he grabbed you. We now have a DNA profile from the T-shirt you were wearing at the time. If that man didn’t kill Gabby, then what was he doing there? Why didn’t he raise the alarm? Why didn’t he help you?
‘Of course it was him and what we have now will lead us to him. Remember, it’s not like the old days – we’re not beholden to the police for everything now. We’ll pay for our own DNA analysis. Archaeologists use private firms regularly now. Sod the bloody police.’ He was animated.
‘It’s going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack—’
‘We have his DNA. We can discount people; it’s black and white now. All we have to do is find him.’ Richard had started to pace around the kitchen as he tried to think of ideas to move forward on the DNA sample.
‘We’ve been trying to find him for years. We can’t DNA every man in England. And I’m tired of it, Rich. It’s cost me. Dearly. I’ve got Ben and right now I have to concentrate on him. And Daisy for that matter. She’s acting up with all this going on and I’ve got to spend time with her. I’ve spent so much time and effort on this for so little progress. Leigh put up with it and I missed out on time with Daisy because of it, time with her, chasing leads, dead ends. But I dare not risk Ben – he’s too fragile.
‘I can’t afford to be absent and start going round the country again. I couldn’t even risk bringing him here to meet you in case he thought he was going to be left again in another stranger’s house. And it’s more than that; this is a huge distraction and I need to be there for him. I need to concentrate on my kids instead of this. You of all people will appreciate what I’m trying to do. And correction, the police have his DNA, not “us”.’
Richard stopped pacing and looked at Temple. He remembered the little boy he had first encountered. He’d been half feral and had hardly said a word for months when he and his father had brought him home. He’d also suffered with mood swings, which they eventually realised were a result of withdrawal symptoms from inhaling the strong weed that Gabriella and her friends smoked. He remembered how difficult those first months were and acknowledged that Temple was right to prioritise Ben. And Daisy. But he was damned if he was going to give up trying to find his sister’s killer. He started to pace again.
‘Yes, you’re right, the police do have the DNA. That does give us a problem, as you say. We would need it for comparison. Without it, we’re just collecting samples. So they’ve got us, I guess. They shut the case and we can’t move forward on the DNA because we’ve got nothing to compare with. The bastards.’ Richard’s head dropped and he looked into his mug of coffee.
‘There might be a way I could get it,’ Temple offered tentatively. ‘Not the exhibit obviously, or the lab sample itself. But leave it with me, let me think about it; phone a friend, as they say.’
Richard’s enthusiasm was instantly reignited by his nephew’s suggestion. ‘As I said, if you’ve been ordered to stay away then I’ll deal with it. We’ve conducted our own enquiries before – I’ll carry on and keep you updated. Just one thing though. Can you get your hands on a number of DNA kits?’
‘They’re in the car.’
Richard stopped his pacing and stood in front of Temple, placing his hand on his shoulder. ‘You see, you haven’t given up, have you? You can no more give up than I can.’
‘No, you’re wrong.’ Temple shook his head. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I have to step back. The DNA from the T-shirt is on the database now, so perhaps we’ll get lucky. If he’s still out there, perhaps he’ll make a mistake and give us a match. Then again, maybe the murderer is already dead – who knows what might have happened in the last thirty-odd years. Or maybe we’ll just never know, perhaps that’s how it’s meant to be. Maybe we just have to accept we’ll never know. Get our heads around that instead. Try and come to some sort of peace with that.’
As the words came out of his mouth, Temple could hardly believe what he was saying. And in the presence of Richard too. The prospect of peace of mind and coming to terms with never knowing gave Temple a strange sense of relief. All he’d had to do was say it. It had to be the right thing to do.
Richard patted Temple’s shoulder. He was right to think about stepping back from it all. It had cast enough of a shadow over his life. Both of their lives. But the injustice of it burrowed deep. It would
ensure no true peace would be found for either of them.
‘Can you let me have a couple of those kits?’ Richard spoke quietly and softly.
‘Sure, if you insist on going on. Look, I’ll see if I can help out with the DNA profile, but I have to get the disciplinary out of the way first, get them off my back. And I have to make Ben and Daisy my priority instead of this.’
‘I’ll go over the names we’ve got already, do some poking around. Look, we know there were pills scattered around her and pushed into her throat. We know the pills had a tiny symbol of a feather stamped on them. I’m not sure what, if anything, we can read into that; take these pills and you’ll take flight, who knows. It was probably just some arsehole’s use of a random symbol. But that’s what we’ve got.’
‘We know all this, Rich, we’ve been over it all. The symbolism of using a feather with drugs, we got nowhere with it. You could read all kinds of stuff into it, but it’s not going to get us anywhere.’
Richard ignored the scepticism. ‘And the fact that the drugs were contaminated tells us a number of things: she was either peddling contaminated drugs and knew it, or she was peddling contaminated drugs unknowingly, or she was refusing to peddle them because they were contaminated.
‘The man that grabbed you was there for a reason. Perhaps he’d taken some of the drugs and had a bad reaction, perhaps one of his friends had. Perhaps he was angry and he killed her. Maybe he was the supplier and was angry with her. Whatever it was, he might still be out there somewhere, living his life, not paying for his crime.’
Temple was getting impatient. This was all old ground. Over the years they had talked about it and analysed it to death.
‘But we’re paying for his crime, Rich. You, me, Leigh, Daisy – it’s thrown a dark shadow, a black bloody cloud over all our lives and I don’t want it to cast a cloud or shadow over Ben’s life. I’ve got to be the parent he needs, the parent Daisy needs. I’ll see what I can do with the DNA sample, then I’m going to step back. I suggest you give it a couple more months, then enough is enough. We move on. This has to stop.’
Chapter 22
Back at home, Temple went over his conversation with Richard. The decision to call time on Op Acre made him feel as though a load had been taken off his shoulders. It had to be the right thing to do. He’d tried, Richard had tried and they couldn’t make headway. His life was littered with the collateral damage and he couldn’t afford for that to affect Ben. He’d have to somehow make it up with Daisy; it was too late for Leigh but not Daisy and his unborn child. He had to make sure they would no longer suffer the consequences of a murder that happened so long ago.
Feeling lighter than he had in years, he went out for a walk with Ana and Ben. It was a mild afternoon and the sky was blue. Temple was still in the process of familiarising Ben with his new surroundings at Avebury. The churchyard provided a couple of old stately yew trees with low-hanging branches that Ben could just about touch with his fingertips.
They ran around the large trunks of the trees and sat on the roots protruding through the earth. They walked to the lychgate, where they sat on the benches underneath its tiled awning. It was like a little house to Ben and he took delight in closing them inside, making sure the gate was closed. The boy was clearly cheered at the nearness of the three of them being together.
Then they took the boy across the road and over to the large standing stone circle, where they played hide and seek. Temple’s own fascination with them was ignited as a child and now he was introducing Ben to them. As Ana hid and Temple and Ben looked for and found her, for the first time Ben started to squeal in delight. It was the breakthrough Temple had wished for: that his little boy had at last found laughter. The stones had worked their magic once again, thought Temple. He and Ana gave themselves a quiet high five, an acknowledgement of their love and care paying off.
It had been a good afternoon and as the sun began to sink, the air quickly chilled down so they went back into the confines of the small cottage. On the way in, Temple picked up some logs from an outside log store to make a fire inside. He was making their meal tonight to give Ana a break, and once he’d finished depositing the logs in the hearth, he went into the kitchen.
As they settled in for the evening, Ana was sitting at the kitchen table, Temple was at the stove putting the finishing touches to a cottage pie and Ben was driving his favourite tractor on the floor in between the legs of the chairs. Radio 2 was on and there was a Friday feel to the midweek day.
Temple was buoyed by his earlier decision around Op Acre and the rewarding sound of Ben’s laughter. It was a moment to savour. Perhaps this was change happening, and happening for the good. Perhaps it would help him have a different perspective going forward. He didn’t know. He looked at Ana and Ben, both relatively new in his life. He thought of Callie and last night. New beginnings, maybe. Perhaps all it had taken was to let go of the past.
Ana was watching Temple. There was something different about him today; he’d been the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. Not that she had any complaints about working for him; he was kind and considerate and she liked staying here.
He’d explained the circumstances with Ben when she’d first arrived and had added in somewhat blunt terms, ‘I’m no good, Ana. I was a rotten husband and I’m as weak as shit around a redhead. The boy’s mum, well, there’s not much I can tell you. There’s not much I can tell him either when he asks one day. We never got to know each other. All I can say is she was a pretty redhead and on that basis, we’re now looking at Ben.’
Going back over the conversation, she thought he’d said that to her as much for her own benefit as anything else. Being an au pair, it was essential to quickly form good relationships with members of the family. And in one conversation he had let her know that although they lived together, she was safe as far as he was concerned. She was there to do a job and the priority was Ben. The result had so far meant they could both live in close quarters in the tiny cottage and be very relaxed around each other. And it created an easy trust between them. They worked as a team and it felt good.
They ate and sat by the fire for a while and then Temple bathed Ben and put him to bed. Joining Ana back at the fire, she had a glass of red wine ready for them both. They agreed it had been a good day and that it felt like a turning point, a breakthrough. To hear Ben laughing in such a carefree way showed that their care of him had been rewarded in the best possible way.
Temple was so glad he’d found Ana. She understood exactly what he needed and was so good with Ben. She’d also agreed to stay for at least another six months, which gave them all a bit of stability. They continued to talk and Ana took their glasses back to the kitchen. He hadn’t forgotten his promise to visit Callie later that evening and was thinking he’d set off in half an hour.
As Temple stoked the fire, he heard a small scream. It was Ana. He leapt up and went into the kitchen. Ana was standing by the fridge while by the back door stood a figure he hadn’t seen for years.
‘Hello,’ she said as she saw him. She spoke quietly, tentatively.
‘Gemma? What the fuck’s going on?’ He was startled and immediately angry that someone could come in uninvited. ‘How did you get in here?’
‘Through the back door. It wasn’t locked.’
Temple and Ana looked at each other. They had had such a good day and he’d forgotten something as basic as locking the back door. The least he could do was keep them all safe but here was Gemma Harker standing in the kitchen uninvited.
‘I’m sorry to have to come here like this but you’re the only one who can help me.’ Her voice was tense, her face desperate.
‘How the hell can I help you?’ His anger at her appearing in the kitchen made him sound blunt and harsh. Ana hadn’t seen him like this before. This woman obviously knew him but he didn’t seem pleased to see her.
They all stood as if on points of a triangle. Gemma Harker looked back at them, her gaze now fixed on Temple. She looked d
istressed but she wasn’t crying. Temple didn’t offer her a chair; he couldn’t believe she was there and wondered what on earth she could want from him. This was a blast from the past he could do without.
Looking at her, he saw that her once red hair was now a strange colour from over-dying and premature ageing. There was still just a tiny trace of her former attractiveness, but her long-lost pretty face was signed with all the markers of her rotten lifestyle. The drugs, the vodka, the pay-for-whatever-you-want sex – it had all taken its toll. The pretty young girl he had once fallen for was almost unrecognisable as the same woman who was standing in his kitchen now. It was strange seeing her there in front of him.
‘I need your help so much,’ she pleaded. Her knees were bent to emphasise her desperation. ‘I don’t know what to do. I saw you last night in Swindon and then I knew I had to come to you. I was running around all day yesterday and today. There’s no one else I can go to. You must help me, please.’ As well as her face pleading with him, her body moved too, as if she was physically aching. He watched her intently.
‘I just don’t know how you think I can help you. If you’re in some kind of trouble, I haven’t left the job, so I don’t see what you think I can do for you.’
‘I am in trouble. The worst. And I’m not asking for myself. It’s not me that I’m here for.’
‘Look, whoever you’re here for, I am not the one who can help you. I’m sorry, Gem.’
‘You’re the only one who can help. And I’m not going from here until you do.’ Gemma Harker looked as if she meant it. Temple wanted her out. He was thinking of Ben upstairs and he was increasingly riled that she had come in quietly through the back door without either of them hearing her. He didn’t even know if she was alone. She was a well-known sex worker and drug user, and she could have any lowlife sitting outside, knowing where he lived. He wasn’t moved by her pleadings.
‘You need to go.’ He went towards her.
She moved defensively. ‘I said I’m not going until you help me. You need to listen to what I’m going to say.’ She was ready to resist any attempts to move her. Temple was losing patience but he didn’t want to have to physically remove her, at least not in front of Ana.
