Echoes of the Past

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Echoes of the Past Page 7

by Mailer, Deborah


  Anne ushered Tom out the door before whispering to him. “Her father won’t talk about Angela on account that he doesn’t believe that she is dead.” Tom understood what was going on; he had dealt with enough bereaved families over the years to know. Before he walked away Tom took the three pictures of the missing girls out of his wallet and showed them to Mrs Harrison.

  “Do any of these girls look familiar to you?” he asked.

  Mrs Harrison looked at the pictures and shook her head. He thanked her for her time and promised to keep in touch.

  Tom headed back to the station to pick up the jeep. He left the box of things from Anne Harrison on the desk. He was keen to get up to the farm and meet Jim Watt. He must have been twenty years older than Angela and Tom found it strange that they were such good friends. What was even stranger to Tom was the fact that the original investigation never even mentioned him.

  *****

  Jim Watts’s farm was very isolated; the nearest house was at least a mile down the lane. It was well maintained, it was more of a ranch than a farm. The only animals that Tom could see were horses. It’s monoblock drive and large eight bedroom house gave it more of a country manor feel than a farm.

  Tom knocked on the door. He introduced himself and explained the reason for his visit to the gentleman that answered the door.

  “I’m Jim Watt, come in.” He led him into the back of the house to a sunroom bathed in light. The French doors opened on to a garden swathed in rose bushes and plants yet to flower. Jim Watt looked in his early sixties, but Tom knew he was much older. He still had a head of black and grey hair, his complexion was not of a man who worked too hard on a farm, he obviously hired a lot of help. He stood about heights with Tom, but he was even broader and just as solid in his build. He offered Tom a seat.

  “I will help in any way I can, Mr Hunter, Angela was a dear friend.”

  “That was something I wanted to ask about, you seem to be a lot older than Angela yet you were still close?”

  The man smiled. “Back in the 70s things were different. Now-a-days everyone is suspicious of everyone else. But back then, they weren’t. Angela and I shared a love of two things, Mr Hunter one was of fine horses, and I had some lovely pedigrees back then, I was a breeder.”

  “And the other?” Tom said.

  “Books,” he said. Tom looked at him questioningly. “Follow me.” Jim stood and led Tom through the house to a living room, leading of it was a library filled with books. “I used to collect them. Angela loved to read. When she decided to be a nurse I told her she could come up here and borrow any books she needed. And she did. She took some biology books, natural remedies and some on first aid I think it was.” Tom looked around the room. “Believe me, Mr Hunter. I enjoyed having the company; she was like the daughter I was never blessed with. And I still miss her.” The two men walked back down the hall to the sunroom.

  “Did Angela have any secrets that she had kept from her mother but maybe shared with you?”

  Jim shook his head. “She adored her parents; she got along well with them. And if she had told me anything, don’t you think I would have told the police at the time.” Jim stood up and walked over to a shelf. He lifted a picture and handed it to Tom. “That was Angela about a month before she disappeared. That horse was her favourite; she rode her every time she came up here.” Tom looked at the photo and handed it back to him.

  “And when she left here to go to Aberdeen, you never saw her again?”

  “No, we said our good byes the day before she left, although I had no idea then that it would be our last.”

  “Before I go, Mr Watt, do you recognize any of these girls?” Tom showed him the pictures of the three missing women.

  “That one looks familiar, but I have no idea why. I can’t place her I’m afraid.” He pointed to Susanna Wheeler.

  “She used to be a barmaid in Arrochar,” said Tom watching the man’s reaction.

  Jim thought for a moment creasing his brow. “I used to go in there sometimes, maybe I saw her there. Sorry I can’t be of more help to you.”

  Tom took back the pictures and thanked him for his help and left.

  As he climbed into his jeep, he thought how this farm would be the ideal place to commit a crime and no one would hear a thing. But was Jim the type? He was charismatic, friendly and he seemed genuinely fond of Angela Harrison.

  Tom couldn’t understand why, but he had a gut feeling about the three missing women. He was now beginning to feel more certain that Angela Harrison might be connected to them. All four had gone missing within the first two weeks of August. The only one he couldn’t get any information on was the girl from Edinburgh. Jill Patterson. He had not been able to get in touch with her family. There had been no answer on the phone, and as yet, no one had returned his messages.

  *****

  Jim watched the detective pull out of the drive and head back the way he had come.

  “What’s that about?” A voice came from the barn.

  “Nothing you need worry about. You ready for a cup of tea, Robert?”

  A small built man around forty walked from the barn to the house.

  “When I saw him pull up I figured you didn’t want him to see me hanging around so I kept a low profile.”

  “I’m glad you did. I don’t like the whole village knowing my business.”

  “Well, you’ve been seen in town with me before, Jim.”

  “Not at this hour in the morning, Robert.”

  The two men headed into the kitchen for their morning refreshment. A slight discomfort was settling on Jim. He had never been connected to Angela before. He wondered what information Hunter had that brought him up here at this hour in the morning. All the years he had lived in this village, he had never known the copper to be up and around this early. Hunter was obviously different. Different was not always good.

  *****

  Tom pulled the Jeep up outside the police house. He had forgotten about the box Mrs Harrison had given him, now he had met Jim; he wanted to see what was in it.

  The photos were all pretty innocuous. A young girl having fun with various friends. The journal would hold more information, thought Tom lifting it from the box.

  The book was a white leather with her initials in gold on the front. It was probably a gift from someone.

  She had written about her relief at passing her Higher exams, and her excitement at being accepted to nursing school. There were a few falling-outs with her parents over trivial things. But most of it was the type of thing you would find in a teenagers diary.

  July 10

  I can’t wait to get away from here. P doesn’t understand why I am so angry. He doesn’t realize how betrayed I feel. S should never have kept that secret. At a time when she needed me most, she didn’t come to me. They have both betrayed my trust. She is supposed to be my friend.

  July 13

  P came to me today at the farm. Jim chased him off but he waited for me to finish up. He tried to tell me that Sam meant nothing to him. He thinks that will make it all better. He doesn’t realize that it is even worse that he was able to use her and treat her that way. Sam hasn’t spoken to me since I found out. When her Dad found out about the knife, he went crazy. She hasn’t been out of the hotel since. I want to talk to her, but I can’t get near. I want to tell her how angry and hurt I am. I’m so lucky to have Jim to talk to. There doesn’t seem to be anything he doesn’t understand.

  July 21st

  Feeling a bit better. I’m now looking forward to going to Aberdeen. It’s a new beginning and I can leave Coppersfield behind.

  August 2nd

  I can’t believe it. Dad bought me a car. A blue ford escort. I will be driving up to Aberdeen. I love it. He said I could only have it if I promise to come down at least once a month. I wish I could show it to Sam, she would love it.

  August 10th

  All packed, Mum and Dad want to drive up there with me to help me get settled. I told them I was a big
girl and could manage. I think Dad is having a hard time with me leaving. He’s even worse than mum.

  Look out, world, here I come!!!

  Tom felt a sadness come over him. That had been her last entry in her journal. It had helped him see another side of Angela, helped him get to know her better. But it had shed absolutely no light on what had happened to her just a short time later.

  Tom read through the letters that had been in the box. Most came from Patrick, begging her to take him back, but there was nothing that would indicate why she disappeared. Tom could feel something eating away at him. Something that just simply didn’t sit right with him. The possibility that the four women could all be victims of stranger abduction crossed Tom’s mind with a sensation similar to dread. These types of crimes were always the hardest to solve. If the perpetrator was unknown to the girls then there was no way of tracking him through his victims. Tom looked at the four files, he knew they had all gone missing in the first fortnight in August. At least two of them had mentioned someone offering them a job of some sort. Moreover, they had both been secretive about it.

  However it was the evidence that he didn’t have that drew a parallel with the four girls. There had never been another sighting of any of the girls after the day they disappeared. They had never used their bank accounts; they had never contacted family or friends. There were no record of them with the DVLA since they had left. There was no evidence of violence, and there had been no bodies as of yet. Tom knew that without a body or a crime scene, the chances of closing a case dropped by about 90%. He could feel the hair on the back of his arms stand on end as a chill went through him, the realisation that he could just have uncovered the crimes of a serial killer, one that had been active since 1968, began to dawn on him. He had left no clues, no witnesses and no evidence. In addition, for the last forty-five years, no one was even aware of his existence.

  *****

  The woman stood silently by his side. She knew, given enough time she would get through to him. She could feel the excitement building from all the women that had gone before her, and after. They knew they had finally found someone who would listen.

  *****

  The man sat in his car in the university campus watching the couple argue. He smiled to himself. A little part of him cringed as he watched the young man beg for forgiveness.

  No self-respect! he thought.

  He watched as the young man climbed into his Datsun and drive off. The girl was upset. She kicked the tyre of her blue Ford Escort; she wiped tears from her face. The soft warm august breeze flicked her blonde hair around her face. He tooted the horn ever so gently, sure not to draw attention to himself. The campus was, for the most part, empty of people. The blond girl looked over, immediately recognizing the car; she smiled, waved and walked over. All he had to do was be patient, just another second, once she was in the car it would all be over.

  *****

  Jess woke from the dream, not fully remembering what it was about; her foot was resting on a pillow. The throbbing had, for the most part subsided. The swelling was not as bad as it had been the day before. She stretched her arms above her head and wriggled her hip slightly to ease the stiffness.

  Within a minute of her waking, Lee was there beside her, fussing over her, bringing her all the pancakes she could eat. She knew that within a day or two she would no longer be needing the crutches and would have no excuse for not going to her own bed. Aunt Lee had shook her head at her, telling her it was her own fault for being so stupid.

  “You scared yourself, that’s all. There isn’t anything in your room, Jess.”

  “Easy for you to say that,” Jess replied.

  “Did Gemma go in to school this morning?”

  “Yes, she text me at interval to see how I was. She said she’s never going up to my room again.”

  “She’s just saying that because she got a fright. Honestly, for such clever girls, the two of you can be really daft sometimes.”

  “Gemma said you used a Ouija board before.” Jess’s tone was challenging, Lee felt a discomfort wash over her as she recalled the last time she had picked up the board. Although it had been at the request of a friend, Lee had never believed that it really would work. She had never touched one since.

  “Did she now. Then you can take it from one who learned her lesson. There are some things on this earth that you just shouldn’t mess with. Spirits of the dearly departed are one of them.”

  “What if they choose to mess with you?”

  Lee felt the hairs on her neck begin to stand. Her intuition was telling her that some thing had begun and there would be no way of stopping it.

  *****

  Matt stretched his arms out to the side. At fifty-three, he was getting a bit too old for the acrobatics of the night before. As pretty as she was, Matt was glad to see her go. He had given her the eighty pounds for the taxi plus a tip. He swallowed his coffee and went upstairs to get ready. He knew little Jess had hurt her foot and he wanted to get down and see her today.

  The water shot from the walls of the shower with force, massaging away the aches in his lower back.

  I could stand here all day, he thought as the water drenched his hair. He stepped out and wrapped a luxurious towel around his waist. The under-floor heating in the over sized bathroom kept the marble floor at a comfortable temperature. Everything in Matt’s life was pretty luxurious. He had always had the best of everything. From clothes to education. The confidant air of arrogance most likely came from the knowledge that his great-grand father had built Ingaldean, and most of the modern day part of the village, the hotel, the tearoom etc. Ingles, was a well-known and respected name in Coppersfield. His great grandfather had made his money in the copper mines in Cornwell before moving up here. Worlds apart from the way Matt made a living today. Mining was a thing of the past, but IT, that’s a business that just continued to grow for him.

  He finished getting dressed then headed downstairs to pick up his surprise gift for Jess. Loading it into the back of the car, he slipped behind the wheel of his BMW and revved the engine, listening to it purr.

  Being the respected member of the community that he was he took his foot of the gas before driving through the gates and on to the public high way. It wouldn’t do to go speeding irresponsibly down School Wynd now would it?

  Nothing was ever too far away in the village, it wasn’t big enough, within five minutes, Matt had reached Hill House. He hadn’t been up there in ages. He remembered coming here with Tom when he first started seeing Sarah. He rang the doorbell and waited with the special gift under his arm.

  A wide smile from Lee as she greeted him at the door.

  “Guess who’s here to see you, Jess,” she called over her shoulder.

  Matt followed her in. and popped his head around the living room door. Aware of the movement in the box under his arm. The house had that homely feel about it, the fire burning, the lamps lit. All the things that pointed to a woman being present. All the things that Matt had never valued, nor understood those who did.

  “Hi, Jess, got a gift for you.” He handed the box over. As Jess took hold of it, the lid popped off and a small white kitten peeked up over the rim. Jess squealed with delight.

  “A kitten!”

  “Yep, she is a Maine coon. Strongly resembles a lion, very loyal and highly intelligent. She reminded me of you, so, of course, you had to have it.”

  Jess laughed as the kitten scrambled from the box. “So I look like a lion, thanks, Uncle Matt. I’m really pleased it wasn’t a puppy you got me.”

  Lee stroked the long fur of the small kitten. “I hope you cleared this with Tom.”

  “Now where would the fun be in that?”

  Jess lifted the kitten and buried her face in the thick main around the kitten’s neck. “He will love her, thank you, Uncle Matt, you’re the best.”

  “I remember when your Dad and I were young, he would only have been about ten; I was a couple of years older. It was just li
ke having a little brother. Anyway, I had taken him fishing at the stream behind the old church. When we got there we found a bag with two little kittens in it, so we waded in to rescue them.”

  “Who would drown kittens, Uncle Matt?” Jess was disturbed at the mere thought.

  “A farmer, maybe. Anyway, Tom took them home but his father would not let him keep them. Your old granddad was a strict old sod. He was really broken up about it. So I took them up to Ingaldean and Tom could still get to see them and play with them. So if he tries to tell you that the cat has to go, remind him of that story. So how’s the foot?”

  “A bit better, I should be up and around in the next day or two.”

  “How did you manage it?”

  “She missed her footing on the stairs, Matt, always in a rush.”

  “Well, once you’re up and about you can come up to the house; I’ve got a new horse that is waiting to meet you.”

  Jess hadn’t been up to the horses in a while and she was missing them. Now she had a sudden urgency to get back on her feet again. Not only that, but when she went up to Ingaldean, she would spend ages talking to Matt; they had good fun together.

  “Where is Tom?” Matt said.

  “He’s still at the station I think,” Lee said.

  “Has he not given up on that case yet? I wish he would just take it easy and wait it out till he retires.”

  Lee gave a snigger. “I would love to see Tom retired, I don’t think he would last five minutes, he would be jumpier than that kitten.”

  *****

  “My goodness, it’s cold in here.” Danny opened the station door and pulled the chill of the outside in with him. He switched on the central heating, one of the new commodities that had been installed in the old station house. “Can’t stay away can you?” He rubbed his hands together for heat and headed over to the kettle.

  “You know what, Danny; I think you might have something with this Angela Harrison case. Her mother gave me a box of stuff that the police never took. Moreover, I found out that she had an older friend who lives just up the lane from here. Jim Watt.”

 

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