by Joy Ellis
Nikki was glad it was Spooky tracing Jez and Harry’s footsteps. Born in Greenborough, there was little she didn’t know about the town, and her IT skills were phenomenal. Nikki tried not to think about what Jez’s parents were going through right now. It was just too close to home.
‘Keep checking with Spooky, Dave. See what she finds and report back. Meanwhile, we’ll have to hope that Harry manages to remember something.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Cat should be back soon, so let’s keep our fingers crossed.’
‘It was a long shot, boss,’ Dave said, ‘but I asked the lads from the pub if they’d ever heard of either Ronnie Tyrrell or Clary Sargeant. The bloke who’s going into the RAF actually knew both of them, though I can’t think how that helps. He did a bit of seasonal labour for the Fairweather brothers to earn some cash while he was studying, and he worked with Ronnie for a while. His father has an art and craft gallery in Louth, so he recognised Clary’s name from her paintings, and he knew she went by the name Clary Sage. I’m pretty sure that’s all there is to it.’
‘Sounds innocuous enough, I must say,’ said Joseph. ‘Greenborough’s not exactly a big metropolis. People do know each other.’
Dave nodded. ‘The lads are really cut up about their mates. What they just couldn’t get their heads around was why anyone would want to hurt Jez Bedford. They reckoned he was the sweetest guy imaginable.’
‘Odd word to use, from a group of blokes,’ said Ben.
Dave sniffed. ‘You say that, but they were sincere, I know it. Jez Bedford seems to have been one of life’s good guys. Charity work, fun runs, helped out with disabled kids, spent Christmas dishing out Christmas dinners to the homeless, and he’d spent the last two years doing voluntary work with the Samaritans.’
Ben looked up. ‘Do you think this could be our link? All our victims seem to have been do-gooders in some way or another, don’t they?’
Nikki thought about it. ‘Jez, for sure. Ronnie? Well, yes. As I recall, he was the peacemaker at Mud Town. He helped Justina, the Lithuanian girl, with her English, and he helped another homeless couple find a caravan to live in.’
‘Clary? What did she do?’ asked Dave.
‘She gave away her paintings if someone said they liked them. She gave one to Leon, the curate at St Saviours.’ Nikki flipped through her notes. ‘And I’ve heard since that she often gave them to charity auctions. Once she made a whole series of landscapes for the Greenborough hospice, and wouldn’t take a penny for them.’
‘And don’t forget the times she went to local art clubs, all gratis,’ Joseph added. ‘And her sister said she used to run a class in the psychiatric unit at the hospital, helping people with anger and anxiety problems. So she certainly fits the bill, doesn’t she?’
‘How on earth can that be a motive for murder? And such a terrible form of murder?’ Dave looked bewildered.
‘Maybe we should give it to Laura Archer to mull over. I think she’s coming in after lunch with her case histories.’ Nikki smiled to herself at how blithely she mentioned Laura now.
She glanced up at the wall clock ‘I’m going to slip out for an hour, Joseph. Ring me if anything important turns up. I’ve got something I need to take over to Mum at Beech Lacey. For some reason, I feel I need to see her.’
Joseph nodded. ‘Of course. And I know why you’re going.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
‘To check she’s not telling porkies. You want to see for yourself that she’s no longer anxious and stressed-out.’
‘No one likes a smartarse, Easter.’
He looked smug. ‘But I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘As always! It’s getting tedious!’
* * *
Nikki parked outside Monks Lantern. There were two other cars there but no sign of Eve, or anyone else for that matter. Having rung the bell and got no reply, she walked around to the fern garden. That was also deserted, but she could hear voices, although she wasn’t certain where they were coming from.
‘Nikki! Over here!’ Her mother’s head popped up from the far side of a wall at the bottom of the garden. ‘We’re in the graveyard!’
‘Graveyard? What graveyard?’ Nikki was nonplussed. She peered over the wall and saw Wendy waving to her.
‘Come and see this, Nikki!’
She pushed her way through an overgrown gateway set in the old stone wall and into a secluded wooded area with a scattering of ancient moss-covered memorials and headstones.
She looked around in surprise. ‘Oh, I say! Did you know this was part of your land, Mum?’
‘Jenny had said some of the uncultivated land beyond the fence was hers. But it was Wendy and her old maps and land registry documents that proved it was actually a graveyard belonging to Monks Lantern. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Nikki replied. ‘What the hell are you going to do with it?’
‘We’re just finding out. Wendy’s friend’s son knows about this sort of thing. He’s going to explain the various options we have, and what’s involved.’
Nikki suddenly thought back to a really bad case a few years before. It had involved the old churchyard at St Augustine’s which was being cleared and the bodies re-interred elsewhere. She hoped her mother knew what she was setting in motion. ‘You should have asked me, Mum. Unfortunately, I’m rather well-acquainted with Section 2 of the Disused Burial Grounds (Amendment) Act of 1981.’
‘Oh.’ Eve opened her mouth. ‘What an idiot I am! Of course you’d know about it.’
‘Still, I’d be interested to hear what options there are.’
‘Then come and meet Judy and her son.’ She hurried off towards the others, with Nikki trotting happily in her wake. She no longer had to worry about her mother’s state of mind. Eve was clearly back in command and fully functional again.
She picked her way through the overgrown copse, careful not to trip on the brambles. ‘Leon! What are you doi—? Oh, of course.’
‘DI Galena? Is something wrong?’ Leon looked slightly apprehensive.
‘Eve is my mother. But do go on.’
‘I need to do some research before we even look at the options, ladies. We’ll have to find out when it was created and when the last body was interred here. Then I need to know how long the Burial Rights for this plot last.’ Leon had a gleam in his eye. He looked around. ‘It’s a good-sized plot, although not over-populated, and it’s very peaceful, isn’t it?’
His mother Judy agreed. ‘I find something rather comforting in the way the trees and the plants grow around the old gravestones. Sort of new life springing from where the dead are resting.’
‘Been at the sherry again, mother?’ Leon grinned at her. ‘You don’t often wax lyrical about cemeteries.’
‘I just happen to think that this is a rather lovely spot, that’s all. And don’t take the mickey out of your mother, boy! You’re not too old or too pious for a clip round the ear.’
‘Said in the presence of a police officer too.’ Leon winked at Nikki.
‘I’ve been involved with this kind of thing before,’ she said. ‘If this village comes under the same regs as St Augustine’s, you have to wait seventy-five years from the date when the last grave was dug. They needed an order for a Faculty to proceed.’
Leon nodded. ‘I would think that’s correct, but I’ve heard of other very different regulations too. I’ll do my homework thoroughly, never fear.’ He gazed around. ‘If it were my responsibility, I think I’d tidy this place up, do some real work on the paths, get the trees and shrubs pruned and maybe do some spring planting — lots of bulbs, daffodils, and crocuses — and keep it as it is.’ He looked at Nikki. ‘You see, when someone is buried in consecrated ground, I believe that it should be their final resting place, and we should respect that.’
Nikki privately agreed with the curate, but she wasn’t sure exactly what Eve and Wendy had in mind when they said it could benefit the community. She looked at her watch. Time to get ba
ck. ‘Leon, while I have you here, do you know a man called Jeremy, or Jez, Bedford?’
‘Of course I do. He’s a champion of several of the church charitable causes. Great guy, Jez. Why?’
Nikki drew in a long breath. It was enough for Leon.
‘Oh no! Not Jez? Surely not Jez? What is happening here?’
Nikki shook her head. ‘We wish we knew, Leon, but we have no idea.’
‘How did he die? The same way as the others?’
She hesitated. ‘He was found in a stolen car.’
‘Set on fire?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
His hand went to his crucifix. He murmured a few words. ‘I should go and see his parents.’
‘I’m sure they’d appreciate that.’
Nikki turned to her mother and told her she had to get back. Before she went, she handed Eve a large envelope. ‘I found these in among Dad’s old things. There are some photographs and old postcards here that I think you’ll appreciate.’
Her mother looked at her quizzically, then accepted them with a smile. ‘Thank you, darling. I’ll look at them when I go back inside. Take care.’
She kissed Nikki on the cheek.
Nikki climbed back into her car, deep in thought. ‘Leon Martin. Three deaths, and only one person who had a connection to them all.’
* * *
Although she was almost forty, Spooky looked like a teenage boy. She kept her dark hair short and tousled, and invariably dressed in rugby shirts, Converse boots and blue jeans. But despite her appearance, she headed up one of the best specialised IT units in the county. They were a civilian firm, but worked for the entire Fenland Constabulary as well as any other force that needed their expertise. Fortunately for Nikki and her team, their unit happened to be based at the Greenborough nick.
CCTV was not Spooky’s usual thing. The nick had plenty of civilians or rookie coppers who could easily go through the footage, but Dave had told her how serious this particular investigation was, so she’d taken on the work herself. Besides, she was eager to help out her old friend Nikki in any way she could. Nikki had taken her under her wing when Spooky was a probationer police officer. Then, realising that her real talent lay in technology, she had switched careers midway through her training. Now she was back in the police station, but doing what she loved.
Spooky stared at one of the two screens in front of her. It showed a street view map of Greenborough town, through 360 degrees. Using the directional arrows, she was following the path the two young men had taken after they left the pub. Dave had traced them to the parish church, and she had located four more sightings after that. Now she was trying to predict their route, checking out all available CCTV cameras as she went.
She knew Nikki’s team were looking for a meeting with another man, someone who went on to kill one of the lads she was “following.”
‘Ah. Gotcha again, guys!’ She printed off stills from the footage as Harry and Jez made their way down a side road that led to the river. She narrowed her eyes and, knowing where the road went, pulled it up on the map. ‘So you have two choices at the T-junction. Left to the river and the main road, and right to West Street and a couple of open air car parks.’ She frowned. ‘Car parks, I’ll bet.’
The two young men went out of the picture, turning right.
Spooky rubbed her eyes. They were meeting someone, she knew it. Their step was deliberate and hurried. No messing around, no kicking cans along the gutter or fooling about, as lads do after a session in the boozer. They had a purpose in mind, and what better place to meet someone than a car park? Dave had mentioned that the dead boy had received a text prior to leaving, and Spooky was pretty sure that the sender of that text was waiting in the West Street Car Park.
Spooky logged into the direct link to the council’s Public Space Surveillance CCTV network, and found the car park. ‘Shit!’ She went from camera to camera, and met with a blank screen each time. In the whole L-shaped area, only two were operational.
She went back to the map and scanned the road they must have walked down. There was one more camera, located close to the entrance to the car park. Spooky held her breath. ‘Please. Please . . . yes!’ There they were.
The two friends entered the car park and looked around. Across the top of the screen, the seconds ticked by, logged by the camera.
Spooky waited, willing the men not to move out of camera range, and then she saw a car draw up. ‘Bingo!’ The printer clattered as she printed frame after frame and watched a door open, and the two men climb inside. Then the car drove off, out of the picture.
It was the last image of young Jez Bedford.
Spooky scribbled a note of the make of the car, and picked up the printouts. They had climbed in willingly, so they had to know or trust the driver. ‘Big mistake,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Fatal mistake.’
* * *
Cat met Spooky at the entrance to the CID room, and they went to find Nikki together. ‘I hate these baby steps,’ muttered Cat. ‘This man is so dangerous we need to be making major headway, not picking up a tiny crumb of info here and another there.’
‘I suppose we should be grateful they’re at least steps in the right direction,’ Spooky said.
Cat knocked on Nikki’s door and they went in. Cat gestured for Spooky to go first.
‘The two men were meeting someone.’ She placed the sheaf of printouts on Nikki’s desk. ‘I’ve identified the car as a Vauxhall Astra.’
Nikki stared at the pictures and exhaled. ‘Thank you, Spooky. Forensics have just confirmed that the burnt-out car was an Astra, so the picture is building up.’ She looked at Cat. ‘Anything from Harry Moore?’
‘Sadly, no, although I do know a little more about what happened. The hospital confirmed that he’d been given a drug, similar to the ones they use for oral surgery or minor ops to make you relax and forget the procedure.’
‘Like Midazolam or Rohypnol?’ asked Nikki.
‘Exactly. But he does recall what happened before he was slipped the Mickey Finn. First he told me that Jez asked him to go with him because he thought the man who sent him the text knew something important about someone he once knew, a girl who died.’
‘Did he say who the girl was?’
‘No. According to Harry, he seemed to be very agitated. He was anxious to meet with the man, but was also suspicious of his motives, hence the need for Harry to go with him.’
‘I’m assuming Jeremy’s phone was incinerated in the car fire?’ asked Spooky.
‘Affirmative.’ Cat said glumly.
‘Shame.’
‘Okay, Cat, what happened after they got into the car?’ asked Nikki.
‘Harry said the man drove them to a small deserted parking area just outside town, and parked up. Jez asked him who he was, and he said he was a journalist who’d stumbled upon a story that might be of interest to Jez. Then he took three bottles of beer from a bag on the passenger seat and passed two of them to Harry. They were pretty well oiled to start with, so neither turned down another drink. Harry remembers being pulled out of the car and hitting the road hard, and then nothing until he woke up in hospital the following day. Even then, he was away with the fairies for hours. Apparently he didn’t even know who he was.’
‘He was lucky. He could have been cremated along with his friend.’ Nikki frowned. ‘Actually, that’s a point, isn’t it? Why not kill them both? Why throw Harry out of the vehicle?’
‘Because Jez was his target?’ Cat chanced. ‘And only Jez.’
‘That’s what it looks like, doesn’t it? He’s not just killing people, he’s targeting very particular ones.’
‘And lucky old Harry wasn’t on his list.’ Cat paused. ‘Maybe Jez’s parents would know about this dead girl — the one the alleged journalist had info about? Shall I go and ask them?’
‘I don’t want to overwhelm them with questions today. They’re in terrible state, as you can imagine. Leave it till tomorrow, but meantime, see if any
one else close to him knows who this girl might be, okay?’
‘Sure, boss.’ Cat brightened. ‘If it wasn’t just a lure to get Jez to meet him, this could be the lead we were looking for. The dead girl could be the link, couldn’t she? To the other victims?’
‘Chase it up, Cat.’ Nikki paused. ‘Ask the curate, Leon Martin, if Jez ever mentioned a friend who died young. Leon seems to know things about everyone.’
‘Well, he is a vicar. People talk to them. It’s what they do. They listen to people’s problems.’
‘True, I suppose.’
The boss didn’t seem totally convinced. She went on. ‘Oh, I did press Harry for a description of the driver of the Vauxhall, but he said they’d had a bit of a skinful by that time. He said he thinks the interior light in the vehicle wasn’t on, and the driver’s face was obscured by the head rest on his seat.’
‘Did he guess at an age?’ asked Nikki.
‘He guessed he was around the same age as them — late twenties, early thirties. And he had brown hair and dark clothing. Harry really did believe that the man was a journalist, and he thought Jez did too. He said the guy was very convincing, pleasant even. He thanked them for meeting him and said he’d explain everything when they got out of Greenborough.’
Spooky looked puzzled. ‘How did he know to bring three beers? You’d have thought he’d have insisted that Jez meet him alone, wouldn’t you? Harry could have been a major problem and really upset his plans.’
‘I wondered that,’ said Cat. ‘I can only guess he’s very well-organised. If he knew Jez was drinking with mates, perhaps he erred on the side of caution. I reckon if Jez had turned up with more than one friend, our killer would never have made contact that night, but as it was just Harry, he took a calculated risk.’
‘And it worked.’ Nikki sat back in her chair and looked at them. ‘Thanks, you two. This all helps to build the bigger picture.’
Cat and Spooky stood up.
‘Shout if there’s any other way IT can help you,’ said Spooky.
