Cry From The Grave A Thrilling Psychological Crime Mystery (Harry Briscombe Book 1)

by Carolyn Mahony

  ‘Can’t I? Why not? Are you gay or something?’

  ‘No, I’m not!’ His eyes locked on her chest. ‘But I’m not stupid either. Certainly not stupid enough to be taken in by a tease like you.’

  Her voice was softly taunting. ‘I’m no tease, Zach. I never start what I’m not prepared to finish.’

  She undid two more buttons and pulled the folds apart to reveal the gentle swell of softly rounded breasts – unencumbered by any bra and surprisingly full.

  She took a step towards him. ‘Are these ridiculous?’ she mocked softly.

  He moistened his lips. He seemed unable to shift his eyes.

  ‘What are you suggesting? Are you crazy or something?’

  Her next action left him in no doubt of her intentions as she trailed her hand lightly over the front of his trousers and gave him a gentle squeeze.

  ‘I’m suggesting I could take care of this for you,’ she whispered.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath as he jerked himself compulsively into her manipulating fingers.

  A couple more squeezes and she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. ‘I’m just offering you a fair deal,’ she murmured reasonably, withdrawing her hand. ‘I want some dope and I’m prepared to pay for it. But it’s up to you. Take it or leave it.’

  Without another word, she’d turned her back on him and headed further into the woods. For a moment, there was silence. Then she heard his feet padding softly after her.

  Afterwards she’d been stunned. She’d never experienced anything like it before – the sheer sense of power that had gone to her head with such dizzying effect. She’d never expected to enjoy sex after what she’d been through but she’d experienced her first ever explosive climax in that brief encounter.

  Smiling at the memory, Natasha moved over to the hall window to watch Harry as he drove away. Yes, that had been the start of it, she realised – the powerful moment when she’d turned from being manipulated to becoming the manipulator. And men were so incredibly easy to manipulate.

  But it had become something of an addiction and it was costing her huge. The biggest casualty being her marriage. All the psycho-babbling she’d undergone had blamed her problems on the abusive childhood she’d had. They talked about things like personality disorders and attachment disorders. It was all a load of bollocks as far as she was concerned, but if it kept everyone happy thinking they’d got her labelled…

  She lit another cigarette and took a deep drag. She should forget about this thing with Sergeant Briscombe really. It was undoubtedly asking for trouble getting involved with a policeman. Yet a fling with him might be just what she needed to distract her – keep her mind off everything.

  And anyway, what else was she supposed to do when her husband had moved into another bedroom and showed no signs of ever coming out?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Anguish or Guilt?” the headline screamed. Hannah stared at the picture horrified. It was the one they’d taken of her outside the Campbell’s house the previous day.

  ‘Is this the tortured face of a mother in anguish?’ the article read, ‘or the guilt of someone about to be exposed? Seven years ago, I followed the case of little Sophie Walker closely. I maintained then, and I still maintain, that the handling of that investigation was a shambles. There were a number of questions that were never answered adequately by either the police, or Hannah Walker and her partner. I sincerely hope that if these do turn out to be Sophie’s remains, this time around, the police will leave no stone unturned in their quest for the truth. I’ll continue to follow the investigation closely and do not intend to let excuses of poor resources and manpower be a justification for inefficient management of this case. Whoever was guilty of this heinous crime – and only they know who they are – must know that their days of freedom are numbered. We owe it to our children to protect them.’

  The signature at the bottom of the article came as no surprise to Hannah, and she flung the paper angrily down on the chair. Robert Lawrence. It was almost as if the man had a personal vendetta against her and Ben. His sensationalist innuendos had done much to sway the public tide of opinion against them during the last investigation, yet they’d been powerless to do anything about him then, and no doubt she’d be powerless again this time around. Picking up her handbag she headed for the door. Once she was at work she could keep herself busy – clear her head of all this for a few blessed hours.

  She opened the door and reeled back at the sight of DCI Murray on her doorstep.

  ‘Ah ... Miss Walker. Sorry to call so early. Have I caught you at a bad time?’

  ‘I was just leaving for work.’

  ‘Shouldn’t take too long if you can spare me a minute?’

  Hannah looked at her watch impatiently. ‘I don’t want to be late Inspector. This is my first day back.’

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can then.’

  She opened the door wider to let him in. ‘Look … if you’re here about last night.’

  ‘What about last night?’

  ‘Oh, nothing.’

  ‘Are you being bothered at all?’

  ‘No, it was nothing.’

  She picked the newspaper up from the chair and showed it to him. ‘Have you seen this?’

  ‘Yes. It doesn’t exactly sing our praises either.’

  ‘No, but this man caused enough trouble for us during the last investigation. Between him and DCI Hedges I think half the country thought Ben and I had something to do with Sophie’s disappearance. Can he get away with insinuations like these? Isn’t it libellous or something?’

  ‘I think you’ll find he’ll be very careful about how he phrases things but you can always take advice from a solicitor?’

  ‘Yes.’ The look she threw at him said it all. She tossed the paper back down on the chair and turned to him.

  ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to sit down?’

  Her pulse raced. Was this it? Had he come to say it was Sophie?

  ‘I’ve come to tell you that we’ve had some preliminary results back from the pathologist,’ Murray said without preamble. ‘In a nut-shell, they’ve confirmed that the remains that were discovered are those of a very young baby, only a few weeks old. They’ve been lying there for anything between five and ten years.’

  His voice softened when he saw her expression. ‘I’m sure you realise that means there’s a possibility it could be your daughter?’

  ‘Was it a girl?’ Her voice was strained.

  ‘We can’t tell with a skeleton so small I’m afraid. We’ll need your DNA to definitely confirm things one-way or the other. I believe someone’s already rung you about that?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘I’m going down to the police station this afternoon, after work.’

  ‘Good. In the meantime,’ he paused, referring briefly to his notebook, ‘I have a couple of things I’d like to clarify with you if possible, just to set the record straight? Your next-door neighbour, Mrs Morrison – the one you say was out in her garden at the time your daughter went missing. Do you know where she lives now? There’s nothing in the old notes to show she’d moved and we may need to take another statement off her at some point.’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘We weren’t close. The only thing we had in common was that her daughter was pregnant the same time as I was – though you’d never have believed it to look at her.’ She shook her head reminiscently. ‘I remember bumping into them once when I was six months pregnant and already huge, and she hardly looked pregnant at all. Then there was some family crisis not long after Sophie went missing and she went to live with her daughter to help out. Somewhere in Enfield is all I know.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He jotted something down in his notebook then looked at her piercingly.

  ‘I spoke to a couple of your other neighbours yesterday. The tenants upstairs mentioned that you and your boyfriend were arguing a lot before your daughter went missing and that the rows es
calated afterwards. My predecessor also mentions that he found Mr. Short to be very ‘hostile’ throughout the investigation. It’s a sensitive question I know, but do you mind me asking if you ever suspected your boyfriend of being involved in your daughter’s disappearance?’

  Hannah tried to hide her frustration. She needed him to stay focused on any new angles he might bring to the investigation, not waste time going over old ground.

  She sighed. ‘Things weren’t good between us and we’d had a row that morning. I’d be lying if I said the thought never occurred to me. But that’s the awful thing about situations like this. You end up being suspicious of everything and everyone. I never seriously considered it … not really.’

  She broke off, thinking back to that time. Their grief had acted briefly as a unifier before it had driven the final, impenetrable wedge between them that had ended their relationship. She recalled the image of Ben bending over the pram. She’d turned away before he’d straightened up – hadn’t actually seen him walking away. And he was a man of impulse. Especially when he was angry.

  ‘No,’ she said, more sharply than she intended. ‘I can’t believe he’d have done something like that.’

  ‘Can’t believe, or don’t want to believe?’ Murray asked.

  Her eyes misted over. Was she now to accept that on top of all the other mistakes she’d made, she’d fallen in love with a man who could murder his own child?

  ‘I notice he was very much in the public eye when it was all going on,’ Murray continued,

  ‘– doing the appeals on the television, giving interviews. Did that bother you?’

  It had. A lot.

  ‘Yes. He felt it was the only way of keeping her disappearance fresh in people’s minds and I got that, but I didn’t like it. I felt there was a part of him that was enjoying the attention too much. He was a bit like that – loved the limelight.’

  ‘These sorts of things put an incredible strain on a relationship, I know. It wouldn’t have been easy for either of you.’

  ‘No. We split up six weeks after she went missing.’

  She could feel his eyes on her, penetrating. Seeing more than she wanted him to see.

  ‘One more thing.’ He pointed to the newspaper lying on the chair. ‘One of my men told me you visited the house where the baby was found yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have...’

  ‘I must caution you against any contact with the couple living there, or visiting the place again without my strict permission beforehand. If confirmation comes through that it is your daughter, then I’ll take you myself. Until then, all it does is give more fodder to the Press. I’m sure you understand?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘It was a stupid thing to do. I don’t know what came over me. I just had to go when your sergeant phoned about the DNA. Up until then I’d been so convinced that Sophie was still alive.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  Hannah met his gaze. ‘Because I feel I’d know if she was dead.’

  Inspector Murray snapped his notebook shut and made to rise. ‘Well, let’s hope you’re right,’ he said gently. ‘It shouldn’t be too long now before we know.’

  ***

  Hannah rushed into the warm, cosy staff room, stripping off her coat as she went. She’d missed the sights, sounds and smells of the school she realised as she hung up her coat. They washed over her now like a soothing balm, shrouding the other darkness in her mind.

  The door opened and Harriet, the school secretary, popped her head around it.

  ‘Hey, Hannah. I thought I saw you come in. Miss Williams asked if you could go and see her before lessons start.’

  ‘Sure…’ It was an unusual request and a flicker of unease trickled down her spine. ‘Shall I come now?’

  ‘If you’re ready.’

  ‘What about the kids?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Maggie’s standing in for you.’

  ‘Oh … right.’

  Ten minutes later she was staring at the Headmistress in disbelief.

  ‘You’re firing me?’

  ‘Absolutely not. I’m suggesting you take some extended leave. I’m sorry, Hannah. I tried to talk the Governors out of it but they were adamant. They called an emergency meeting last night and decided it was their only option until we know more about the facts of the case.’

  ‘But that’s so unfair. The police haven’t even confirmed that it’s my daughter yet, and there’s no evidence to say I’ve done anything wrong. And I haven’t...’

  ‘Don’t you think I know that? I put your case as strongly as I could but some of the Governors felt you should have mentioned your history at your interview.’

  ‘It was nothing to do with them,’ she said heatedly. ‘Or my job. I was trying to put it behind me.’

  Miss Williams sighed. ‘I get that, and I promise I’ll fight your corner as hard as I can. But at the moment my hands are tied. I hate to say this, but we’ve already had two parents expressing concern that you’re teaching their children…’

  She held up her hand when Hannah would have interrupted.

  ‘I’d stress that I’ve had a lot more parents go out of their way to say you have their full confidence and support – including the parent representatives on the Board. So, don’t think all is lost. But for the time being, all I can suggest is that you make the most of taking some leave on full pay. I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on. I’m sorry.’

  Hannah lips tightened. ‘This’ll be something else the press will have a field day over, you realise that? It’s tantamount to saying the school doesn’t have confidence in me.’

  ‘It’s nothing of the sort,’ Miss Williams stated firmly. ‘And I’ll make it my business to reflect that in my statement. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done this to you for the world if I could have avoided it.’

  Hannah got up from her chair. She was hardly aware of clearing her belongings from the staff room. Sophie’s abduction had robbed her of two years of her life. It had been an enormous step for her to go back to university and then do her teacher’s training. Her job was the one thing she’d been depending on to carry her through this latest development. Now that had been stripped away it left her vulnerable to the depression she knew could be so destructive. She needed to talk to someone before she locked herself up in her flat and never came out again.

  Half an hour later she was pulling up outside Silver Lining Interior Designs in Hertford.

  She could see Jess working on the window display, a frown of concentration on her brow as she carefully draped a swathe of brightly coloured material so that it hung in soft folds from the ceiling. Seeing her friend at the window Jess waved and beckoned her in.

  ‘What’s up?’ she said seeing Hannah’s face.

  Hannah told her.

  ‘Oh, Hannah. That’s terrible. What are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Not a lot I can do. I’ll just have to sit it out. But it’ll drive me nuts sitting at home all day doing nothing.’

  ‘Come here and work with me.’ Jess said straight away, abandoning her task and moving into the little kitchen to put the kettle on. ‘I can’t afford to pay you much, but there’s always plenty to do.’

  Hannah was taken aback at the offer. ‘But I don’t know anything about interior design.’

  ‘What’s to know? It’s only a question of going through the books with the clients, helping them choose materials and the like. You’ve got a good eye for fashion. It’s no different.’

  She grinned. ‘And if the practical side doesn’t grab you, there’s always plenty of invoicing and paperwork.’ She waved a mug in the air. ‘Not to mention making coffee. You won’t be idle, believe me.’

  ‘I don’t know...’

  ‘You might even enjoy it,’ Jess suggested gently, ‘dealing with Joe public. I know you love your job but you have rather buried yourself in it this last couple of years.’

  ‘I haven’t exactly felt like partying.’<
br />
  ‘I know you haven’t, and I’m not trivialising what you’ve gone through. But you know, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you still. It would be nice to see you let your hair down a bit sometimes.’

  Hannah’s look was indignant. ‘I do let my hair down.’

  ‘Compared to what you used to be like, you don’t.’

  ‘Well you may not have noticed, but things have changed, Jess. We’ve grown up for a start.’

  ‘I know, but…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Forget it, now isn’t the time with all this going on.’

  ‘Come on. You obviously need to get something off your chest.’

  ‘Look, it just upsets me seeing what’s happened to you, that’s all. You’re young and you should be out there having a good time, meeting men even. What happened with Sophie was terrible and I’m not suggesting for one minute that you ever get over something like that. But you can’t go on punishing yourself forever.’

  Hannah stiffened. ‘I’m not punishing myself, and I certainly don’t need another man complicating my life.’

  ‘Not all men are like Ben – or even your Dad. There are some good marriages out there.’

  ‘And there are some crappy ones too. You and Fraser are lucky.’

  ‘Yes, we are, and that’s why I hate it when you dismiss your own chances of finding someone decent. We can all manage on our own but it’s a million times better when you’ve got someone who loves you at your side.’

  ‘Well…’ Hannah got up from the table and walked over to the sink with her cup. ‘We’ll just have to agree to differ on that one. I’m not interested in meeting anyone and that’s all there is to it. I’ll come and work with you though if you’re serious about that? As long as you think you can put up with me – miserable cow that I am!’

  Jess grinned. ‘I think I can manage – and that’s brilliant news. We’ll have a ball.’

  ‘And the even better news for you is that you don’t need to pay me anything, because I’ve been suspended on full pay. I’d feel bad about if I didn’t feel so angry over the injustice of it all. So, when can I start?’