by Joy Ellis
‘I agree. I have one more thing for you. It may be of no consequence, but there is an unlicensed airstrip on the Applegarth property. It’s just a grass runway, tricky to use but that’s part of the fun of flying, and Lowe sometimes flew from there, instead of Greenborough Airfield.’
‘Is that legal?’ asked Nikki.
‘Oh yes, it’s quite common practice. You don’t need planning permission as long as you don’t use it more than twenty-eight days in a year.’
‘Ah, well, that makes a cover-up even simpler.’ Nikki sighed. ‘I appreciate all that, Wendy. Now I think you can stand down. I’ve changed my thoughts on how this investigation should be handled. From now on we’re proceeding openly.’
‘Well, if I can help, you know where to find me.’
‘In a disused graveyard!’
‘That’s the place. It’s back to gardening for us. Bye for now.’
Nikki went into her office and closed the door on the bedlam in the CID room. For a moment or two she sat in silence, breathing slowly and getting her head in order. She knew there was a risk that their sudden and very visible onslaught could force their man to act sooner rather than later, but it was a chance she had to take. She also knew that the station would be inundated with calls, some valid, many hoax. But again, she had no choice. Fortunately she had Sergeant Niall Farrow to rely on, so uniform would be right behind her.
She leaned back in her chair. This was policing as it should be. No more cloak and dagger for her. If some Special Branch unit turned up to close her down, they would be no better than the people who had found it expedient to conceal a lovely girl’s death, and in turn, sentence a group of decent people to die in agony. And she, Nikki Galena, would hold them to account, even if she did so as a civilian.
‘Bring it on!’ she growled, and strode back out to join her team.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
At four in the afternoon, Nikki had confirmation that Lyndon had come back to England the month before. Officers traced him to a small hotel on the outskirts of Greenborough, where he was positively identified by the hotel manager. He had openly registered as Lyndon Applegarth. According to the manager, he was a quiet, pleasant man. He’d left over a week ago, saying that he was going back to France, since his business here was complete.
‘Why didn’t he go to the family home,’ asked Cat, ‘if he wasn’t bothered about concealing his identity?’
‘We’ve heard that he fell out with his father, which is why he moved to France to live and work,’ said Nikki. ‘And possibly he couldn’t face being back at the scene of his sister’s death.’
‘I made a few discreet enquiries with the Applegarths’ neighbours,’ Ben added. ‘It’s been closed up for over six weeks now. Richard and his wife are in residence abroad. There’s a caretaker who keeps an eye on things while they’re away, which can be months at a time.’
‘So where did Lyndon go when he left the hotel?’ mused Joseph. ‘Somewhere where he could prepare to execute his plan, I guess, but where?’
‘My best guess would be a rental property,’ volunteered Dave. ‘But would he have used his own name again?’
‘I doubt it,’ said Nikki. ‘And there’s a lot of other places he could choose, like caravan parks, holiday chalets. He could even be house-sitting.’
‘Legally, or illegally,’ added Cat.
‘The most important thing is that we can place him here in Greenborough at the time the fires started. We’ve just had confirmation that he hasn’t left the country. Lyndon Applegarth is right here, and he’s preparing another fire. And we have no idea who his next victim is, or where he’ll strike.’ Nikki rubbed her eyes. ‘It’s so exasperating!’
Joseph massaged the back of his neck. ‘And time is not on our side.’
‘Our best chance is for someone to spot him,’ said Ben hopefully. ‘We’ve plastered the town with his likeness. Someone will recognise him before long.’
‘Sorry, Ben, but I’m betting I could change my appearance enough to walk right past you in the street, and you wouldn’t know me.’ Cat winked. ‘Not that I’d want to, you understand, but I’m just saying, disguise is easy.’
‘It is if you’re a chameleon, like you.’ Dave smiled. ‘But you do have a point. We can’t just sit back and wait for a break, can we?’
‘I’ve had a couple of pool detectives going back over the four dead victims’ old friends and acquaintances,’ Joseph said, ‘but they haven’t found anyone who was at that party on Mischief Night.’
‘And I’ve had no joy trying to contact Polly Favre, nee Applegarth,’ said Dave. ‘I’ve been told by her place of work that she’s holidaying with her husband and child on some remote Greek island. It has an intermittent ferry link, and so far we’ve had no luck tracing them. Apparently, when they go away they don’t welcome communication.’
Nikki stood up. ‘Then I think it’s time to make a phone call. And someone with a little more clout than me will have to do it.’ She looked rather anxiously at Joseph. ‘Cam is going to have to contact Richard Applegarth, give him the chance to tell the truth about what happened and help us find his son.’
Joseph’s eyes widened, and then he nodded. ‘You’re right. He might even know where Lyndon might hide out. We have no choice, Nikki. And if he cares about his boy, he’ll have to help us.’
Nikki wasn’t convinced of Richard Applegarth’s fatherly affection. She could see him clamming up and then using his position to get the case closed. Well, just let him try. She gritted her teeth.
* * *
‘Why are there Applegarth family members in our little cemetery when they live in a big house up on the edge of the Wolds?’ Eve asked.
Wendy looked up from her gardening book and frowned. ‘Leon said they were a local family, didn’t he?’ She put the book down and fetched her laptop. ‘Time for a spot of silver surfing, I think.’
‘While you do that, I’ll make some tea.’ Eve went to the kitchen.
She kept turning the case over in her mind, putting herself in Nikki and Joseph’s place. They must be at their wits’ end, knowing that some poor soul had a death sentence hanging over them, and powerless to stop it unless they found the killer before he struck again.
She went back into the sitting room. ‘Any luck?’
‘Local history is fascinating, isn’t it?’ She looked up. ‘For generations the Applegarths lived right here on the outskirts of Beech Lacey. And guess what?’
Eve placed her tea on a coffee table. ‘Go on . . .’
‘Their home burnt down! Destroyed! It was razed to the ground. After that, the family upped sticks and moved up county to Cassington Village. Now it’s that rather nice bungalow and apartment complex for senior citizens — Lyndon Court.’
‘Lyndon Court? As in Lyndon Applegarth?’
‘Named after the son. It has a community hall called Natalie House, and a studio where they can do arts and crafts or have a cup of tea and a chat, and that’s called Polly’s Place.’
‘Well I never!’ Eve sat down. ‘Well, that answers that, doesn’t it? Another fire! That’s creepy, isn’t it? Do they know how it started?’
‘Ancient electrics, according to a newspaper report.’
‘Was anyone injured?’
‘It doesn’t say. I suspect not. It did mention that the children were very young. Apparently the smell of smoke woke the father in the early hours of the morning, and he got them all to safety.’ Wendy switched to another site. ‘I wonder if Cameron Walker knows about this? I mean, if they were in the neighbourhood up until, well, fifteen to twenty years ago, you’d think he would have recognised the name.’
Eve sipped her tea. ‘I don’t think the Walkers have lived here that long, Wendy. As far as I know, they came here about ten years ago because Cam was posted here. If the Applegarth family moved away, perhaps they just faded into history. There are a lot of new faces in the fen villages these days, incomers looking for a better, cheaper life in the country, an
d even villages like this move on. I’ve not been here for long, I know, but I’ve never heard the name mentioned.’
‘Maybe. I’ll ask him, though.’ Wendy closed down the laptop. ‘Not that it means anything. House fires do happen, and nine times out of ten, it’s faulty appliances or wiring.’
This was true, but Eve also felt that every tiny piece of information about the Applegarth family could be important. ‘You’re right, of course. But I think we’ll tell Nikki when we speak next.’
‘Absolutely.’ Wendy picked up her book. ‘Now, back to my autumn pruning.’
* * *
He sat still, regulating his breathing and meticulously going over his next move in his head.
Earlier that afternoon he had stripped the van of its phoney logos, and had driven it back to its rightful owner, parking it with the spare key taped back behind the visor, just as it had been. He wouldn’t need it to get to the last venue. He was certain he had not been seen, but just in case, he’d worn a stretchy fleece beanie hat pulled down around his face and covering his hair. He was also wearing a walker’s anorak and weatherproof trousers and had carried a small backpack. Just a rambler, nothing more sinister than that.
He’d been particularly careful on this occasion. His picture was all over the town, but so far no one had identified him. They would, he knew, and he couldn’t afford to fall at the final hurdle.
He made sure that he had the new throwaway phone to hand. It was a vital part of the plan. For the tenth time he checked the three numbers stored in the contacts list, and then shut it off. He verified the time. That was crucial, but he’d managed it before, especially with the car fire that had ended Jeremy Bedford’s life. He could do this, he would. For Natalie.
* * *
Cameron Walker sat alone in his office and stared at the display on his smartphone, waiting for his wife to answer. She did, and he told her he loved her. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me, Kaye, but I think I’ve just signed my death warrant with the force.’
A heartbeat, and then Kaye said that she loved him too. ‘But did you feel good about what you just did? Honestly?’
‘Without a doubt.’
‘That’s fine then. Will you be home for dinner tonight?’
Cam wondered what on earth he had done to deserve such an amazing partner. He was filled with love for her. ‘Probably not, darling. But I’ll keep you updated.’
‘Then take care of yourself. There are some bad people out there.’
‘Aren’t there just! I’ll do my best to steer clear of them. Love you. Speak later.’
Cam ended the call and went to find Nikki.
Inside her office, he heaved a big breath and flopped into a chair beside Joseph. ‘Bottom line, someone “in authority” is going to speak to him immediately. I’m not sure if that means some Special Branch unit, or Interpol, since it concerns international police cooperation. But at least I wasn’t dismissed out of hand. The chief super listened to every word I said, and by the time I left, he looked as worried as me.’
‘Well, you can’t do any more, can you?’ Joseph gave him an encouraging smile. ‘That took guts, after the warning they gave you!’
Cam ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. ‘I surprised myself, I must say, though who knows how it’ll pan out. I could still be down the job centre tomorrow!’
‘In the queue behind us,’ added Nikki grimly. ‘If it all goes tits up, it was because of me.’
‘We didn’t have to agree with you though, did we?’ Joseph said. ‘We went along with you because we believe it’s the right thing to do.’
‘I guess you’re right, but I still feel responsible.’ Nikki sighed. ‘I wonder how long it’ll take before we hear back?’
Cam glanced at the clock. ‘Two hours, I reckon. I really made a big deal about the imminence of this next fire. I even said he’d have the death of an innocent person on his conscience if he didn’t pull his finger out.’
‘Bet he liked that,’ Joseph said. ‘Let’s just pray that Richard Applegarth has a conscience too, and realises that it’s finally time to ’fess up about what happened to his daughter.’
There was a soft tap on the door. ‘Come in,’ Nikki called.
Laura Archer entered the room, her beautiful face almost gaunt with anxiety. ‘Cat has just been bringing me up to speed on what’s happened.’
‘Do you have any idea how this arsonist’s mind might be working right now?’ asked Nikki hopefully.
Laura raised an eyebrow. ‘Fetch me a crystal ball, someone!’ She gave a tight laugh. ‘If what you believe is correct, and this is his last kill, he’ll be fighting to hold it together. He’s not a thrill killer, who’d grow more and more excited by every new kill. This is a strategically planned operation, something you would understand, Joseph.’ He nodded. She knew his background. ‘He’s completed four stages, and now he’s facing the final one, and in his eyes it’s the most vital. He has to get it right.’
‘It’s the culmination of the whole campaign,’ Joseph said softly. ‘You’re right, Laura, it will be essential that it goes to plan.’
The four of them sat in silence. After a while, Nikki said, ‘Can I ask you something, Laura? I keep thinking about the victims, and somehow my picture of them as young people, teenagers, doesn’t gel with what I know of them as adults.’ She frowned. ‘Each victim, although very different in character, was basically a good, caring person. Jeremy Bedford was a positively inspirational charity worker. And Clary . . .’ Nikki thought of that beautiful, diaphanous painting that she’d admired so much. ‘Clary was almost saintly in her generosity with her art work. Could these people really have been an unruly gaggle of drunken, drug-taking kids?’
Laura grinned. ‘Were you ever a teenager? And are you the same person now? I doubt it very much. I know I’m not.’
‘Me neither,’ muttered Cam, sounding heartfelt. ‘I was an appalling teenager!’
‘I guess you’re right,’ Nikki said.
‘And to be honest, it was only hearsay that the legal highs belonged to them. The drugs could have been stashed there by one of the Applegarth kids. They might not have ingested them at all. Drink, sure. After all, they were students, and teenagers, and it was Mischief Night.’ Joseph sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, ‘Which one of us has never, ever, taken an exploratory drag on a spliff?’
Nikki looked around, and realised that she was the only one with a hand raised. ‘Bugger! That will do my reputation as a tough nut the world of good!’
‘Just proving a point.’ Joseph smiled affectionately at her.
The sound of her phone made them all start.
‘DI Nikki Galena.’
Niall’s voice filled her head. ‘You have a visitor, ma’am. It’s Michael Porter’s brother, arrived from Riyadh. He’s come directly here from the airport.’
‘Could you arrange one of the interview rooms, please? Get him a drink, and I’ll be right down.’
‘Wilco, ma’am.’
She looked at her colleagues. ‘Michael’s brother. Let’s hope he’s remembered something on his long flight home.’ She looked at Joseph. ‘You stay here. I’ll take Ben, as he was the one who spoke to him initially.’ She stood up. ‘I’m not expecting too much from this, but you never know.’
* * *
Yvonne’s phone rang. It was Mickey, the last person she’d been expecting.
‘Vonnie? Your weird hand gesture in the picture had me thinking, so I went straight to my mate Dan’s home and spoke to him before he went to work. He’d never seen it before around here, but he had seen something similar when he was in London. He’s going to try to make a few enquiries for me.’ Mickey drew a breath. ‘But that’s not exactly why I phoned. He told me to be careful on the streets over the next couple of nights.’
Yvonne’s hackles rose. This was not something she wanted to hear. ‘Did he say why, Mickey?’
‘There’s an ugly feeling out there. We noticed it on th
e Carborough too, though not like Dan described. He thinks it’s to do with Lee Brown getting done over. It all started with people feeling threatened and pretty scared. Now they’re angry.’
Yvonne groaned inwardly. They’d seen this kind of thing before in the town, and it always ended in violence. Just what they didn’t need when they were chasing a killer. ‘Mickey? Are these angry people directing their anger anywhere specific?’
‘Rumour has it they have some religious group fingered for the attack on Lee. I don’t know any more than that, but if I hear anything, I’ll pass it on.’
‘Thank you, Mickey. You’re a star.’
‘It’s been said before, Vonnie. I’m beginning to believe it! Ciao.’ He ended the call. Yvonne was left with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Time to talk to Niall again.
* * *
Nikki was pretty sure that Jared Porter hadn’t flown first class. The man looked ragged.
‘All the way back, I’ve been thinking about just how wrong I got my brother. I can’t believe that we didn’t ask more questions at the time.’ He looked at Ben. ‘And you really put me straight on that one, DS Radley. Don’t think I’m complaining, mind. I deserved a damned good talking to. What a fool I’ve been! Poor Michael, how he must have suffered. I think I’m going to have nightmares about that. Trapped in a burning building twice in your life! It’s inconceivable.’
Nikki smiled at him. ‘I’m thinking that your parents played down his original accident far too much. Only to protect him, I expect, but it didn’t have a good outcome. You probably believed what you were told and took it no further. Everyone gets things wrong sometimes, Jared. You can only work with the information you’re given.’
‘We were too involved in our own lives, DI Galena. After my sister and I went abroad, we never gave Michael a second thought. An occasional phone call, a birthday card, and that was it really. Then we got mad with him because he let the house get run down. How self-centred can you be? Now he’s gone, and I can’t even say sorry to him.’
Nikki felt for him, but couldn’t afford the time to listen to this flood of self-recrimination. She couldn’t spend too long here if Jared had nothing for her. ‘Jared, is there anything you’ve remembered? Maybe from when your parents talked about his accident. The smallest thing — a simple name of a friend. Anything?’
