Wrong Place

by Michelle Davies

  Green stood up and Maggie took that as her cue to follow.

  ‘We will be back to interview you again once we’ve recovered Helen’s body from the mine so you should call that solicitor now,’ said Green. ‘Oh, and there’s an officer posted outside your door, so don’t get any ideas about making a run for it.’ She handed Bramwell her card. ‘In the meantime, if you have a sudden flash of inspiration as to your wife’s whereabouts, you call me immediately. If you love your wife as much as you say you do, you’ll help us find her before she hurts anyone else.’

  It wasn’t until Maggie and Green were outside the hospital, enveloped by the cold night air, that either of them spoke. They sheltered under the glass porch that ran the length of the hospital entrance; it was raining so hard now that water flowed like a stream along the pavement gutter.

  Green went first, as she fumbled in her bag for her cigarettes. Maggie saw the slight tremble in her hand as she lit one up.

  ‘Tomorrow we’ll recover Helen’s remains. It’s too dark to start anything now, but we can instigate a search first thing.’

  ‘What about Eleanor?’ said Maggie.

  ‘We’ll keep looking.’

  ‘Do you believe Bramwell doesn’t know where she is, after so many years of lying?’

  ‘I don’t know. But his breakdown just then was convincing enough.’

  ‘So you’re buying the rest of his story, about why Eleanor went to see Sadie?’

  ‘You don’t have kids, do you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ve got two boys: one of fourteen, the other eleven. Love the bones of them, can’t imagine life without them. Yet I was never one of those women who thought that if I didn’t have kids my life wouldn’t be worth living. I wanted children, but I think I would’ve been all right if it never happened.’ She took another drag of her cigarette. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is that I personally wouldn’t have let it consume me, but some women do and it sounds like Eleanor’s one of them.’

  Green ground the butt of her cigarette under the heel of her boot.

  ‘Right, we’ll go back to the station, start widening the net.’ She raised her face to the sky. ‘One more night, Helen,’ she said softly. ‘One more night.’

  ‘I’d better ring my DS,’ said Maggie. ‘Let her know what’s going on.’

  Renshaw picked up after one ring. ‘I was about to call you.’ Her voice was strained and she sounded upset. ‘We sent a car round to Sadie’s house but Della’s not there. There are signs of a struggle.’

  ‘She’s gone?’

  ‘Yes. Della’s missing.’

  71

  They raced to the car park, feet slamming into puddles, Maggie the faster. She knew exactly where Eleanor was – where Della might be too – and Green needed no convincing otherwise. They were going back to the start.

  It took them forty minutes to reach the outskirts of Barnes Wood, the blue light on the dash of Green’s car clearing a path for her to floor it down the M40. Simon Bramwell might not have thought of it, but Helen’s last resting place suddenly seemed the most obvious place to search for his wife.

  By the time they reached the disused mines, Renshaw had corralled a response unit and Maggie and Green were both taken aback to discover Assistant Chief Constable Bailey was already at the scene. They didn’t question it though. There wasn’t time.

  ‘We’ve found the entrance to the ventilation shaft and the grille was already opened,’ said Renshaw. Maggie, wearing only an overcoat and her leather ankle boots as protection against the driving rain and muddy ground, envied her colleague’s waterproofs and wellingtons. ‘They’re definitely down there,’ Renshaw added. ‘We’ve heard voices. But it’s not just the two of them. There’s a young girl with them and we think her name is Beatrice Dennison, Bea for short. Her parents reported her missing an hour ago. They’ve got one of those GPS tracker apps on her phone and her last location was Frobisher Road, right outside Sadie’s house.’

  ‘What the hell has she got to do with this?’ said Green, flashing a surprised look at Maggie, who returned it with one of her own.

  ‘Her mum volunteers in a charity shop on the High Street with Audrey Allen’s sister. But she says Bea’s never met the sister, or Audrey. The mum also says they rarely use the GPS app but did so tonight because they thought Bea had run away. She was supposed to be ill in bed but when they checked on her she’d vanished.’

  Green interrupted. ‘Okay, let’s worry about how she’s involved once we’ve got her out. Show us where this vent is.’

  With Renshaw leading the way, the three of them carried torches as they traipsed along the densely covered, mossy path, Maggie struggling to keep her footing. Eventually they rounded a corner to reach a large clearing. In the middle was a square hole set into the ground and the grille that covered it had been flipped open on its hinges. The hole appeared to be sizeable enough to fit two people comfortably at the same time. Lights on tripods had been rigged up around the entrance and a couple of Maggie’s CID colleagues, including Nathan, stood guard.

  ‘Eleanor knows we’re here,’ said Nathan as they reached him. ‘She’s saying she’ll only speak to Maggie, no one else.’

  ‘Makes sense: you’re her FLO and Della’s too. Look at it as two for the price of one,’ said Green drily.

  Maggie peered down the hole. Even with the lights it was too dark to see where the shaft ended.

  ‘Shall I go down now?’

  ‘Try talking to her first,’ said Renshaw. ‘Here, use this.’

  Maggie took the loudspeaker megaphone from her colleague. With everyone watching her, she spoke into the hand-held microphone. Her voice boomed across the clearing.

  ‘Eleanor, it’s DC Neville. I’d like to talk to you, please.’

  She waited, eyes fixed on the hole. Renshaw timed the seconds slipping by on her wristwatch. ‘Again,’ she whispered, after thirty seconds had passed.

  ‘Eleanor, it’s me, Maggie. I want to know that you’re okay. I know you’ve got Della with you, and Beatrice. Can you tell me if they’re okay too?’

  Della’s voice rose from the hole. She sounded tearful and exhausted.

  ‘We’re okay. She wants you to come down to talk to her.’

  Maggie looked to Green and Renshaw, but it was ACC Bailey who gave the order.

  ‘Keep your radio open, we need to hear what’s going on,’ he said. ‘She may be armed so you must hang as far back as possible and if there’s any obvious risk you withdraw immediately. Are you wearing your vest?’

  Maggie tapped her chest to indicate the stab vest she had on under her coat. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Go on then. But be careful.’

  She tucked her torch under her arm as she eased herself down the ladder. Rust had splintered the rungs and made them rough to the touch. Nathan and Renshaw aimed their torches down the shaft so she could see where to put her hands and feet.

  The bottom four rungs were missing so Maggie let go and dropped down onto the ground. The heels of her boots sank into the soft, chalk floor, which was slick and wet, lending it a pearlescent sheen. She swung her torch round and ducked cautiously through a crudely fashioned chalk doorway into a small, cave-like room. Della was sitting on the ground trussed up; a young girl lay next to her, unconscious. Eleanor wasn’t with them.

  ‘Are you injured?’ said Maggie, but she didn’t go over to them. She needed to establish it wasn’t a trap first. She swung the torch around but couldn’t see Eleanor anywhere.

  ‘I’m worried about Bea. She’s been hit on the head. She keeps passing out,’ said Della.

  ‘There are paramedics above ground who will help her when we get you out of here,’ said Maggie. ‘Do you know why she’s here?’

  ‘She was trying to help but she got in the way.’

  Maggie spun round at the sound of Eleanor’s voice, aiming her torch in the direction it came from. The beam landed on Eleanor like a spotlight as she sat slumped against the far wall, her fac
e so washed out it almost matched the pale chalky surface she was leaning against. Her right arm was no longer in a sling and rested limply against her body. Next to her on the floor was a blanket covering something and a quarter-full bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin. Shards of bright blue light bounced off the walls and ceilings, like water rippling against the surface. Resting in her lap were long-handled bolt cutters, which Maggie guessed she’d used to get through the padlock and chain securing the grille above.

  ‘She’s the girl you’ve been looking for,’ said Eleanor dully. ‘It was her and her boyfriend who robbed all those old people in their homes. She told us a minute ago, before she passed out again.’

  Maggie stared down at the girl. She was one half of the Con Couple? She was just a kid.

  ‘It’s true,’ said Della. ‘Bea said she and her boyfriend did the other burglaries but they didn’t break into Nan’s house. She’s been blaming herself for Nan dying though because she thinks whoever attacked her had copied them.’ Della pressed her bound legs against Bea’s back. ‘She came to see me tonight to tell me the truth. She was trying to make amends.’

  ‘I saw her at the hospital the other day, at Sadie’s bedside,’ said Eleanor. ‘I thought she was Della because they look so alike. I’m sorry she’s hurt.’

  Was that remorse? Maggie seized on it.

  ‘Then let her go. She needs to see a doctor.’

  Eleanor shook her head. ‘No, she has to stay here now. We all do.’

  Maggie tensed as Eleanor reached for the bottle of gin and took a long swig.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked.

  ‘I thought it was Helen’s fault, that she’d come back to ruin everything, and if I could stop her we’d get our baby. But it wasn’t her. Turns out she was where we left her all along.’ She gulped down more gin then waved the bottle in Della’s direction. ‘Do you want to know what happened to her? Tell her, DC Neville. Tell her.’ Set against her pale skin, Eleanor’s irises appeared almost entirely black.

  ‘What’s she talking about, Maggie?’ said Della, bewildered.

  ‘Just tell her. I know you know. I know Simon’s told you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. You knew exactly where to find us. All of us.’

  Eleanor’s eyes strayed to the blanket-covered mound next to her – and instantly Maggie knew.

  Helen.

  72

  ‘What’s going on?’ Della stuttered. Maggie could see she was frantically trying to pull her hands out of their plastic restraint and knew she had to act fast. She had to make sure Della didn’t see what was under that blanket. With one eye on Eleanor, Maggie made a move towards Della and Bea, who was still lying prone on the floor.

  ‘I’ll tell you when we’re out of here,’ she said firmly. ‘Eleanor, I’m going to take Bea now. Then I’m coming back for Della.’

  ‘No!’ Eleanor clambered to her feet, brandishing the bolt cutters. ‘I told you, no one’s leaving.’

  ‘Why are you keeping us here?’ Della wailed. ‘What have I ever done to you? Why did you call her Eleanor? She said she was my mum’s best friend, Gillian.’

  When Maggie gave no reaction whatsoever, Eleanor gave a short, brittle laugh.

  ‘So much for a husband protecting his wife. How long did it take for Simon to crack and spill his guts? Ten minutes? Five? Or was it even less than that? You know what,’ said Eleanor, waving the gin bottle around, ‘I think I preferred him when he was Niall.’

  Maggie stared her down. ‘What about you? Was life better when you were Gillian Smith?’

  Eleanor staggered over to Maggie and swung the bolt cutters in her face, forcing her to snap her head back to avoid being hit.

  ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You think that if you get me talking about who I used to be I’ll get distracted and you can arrest me for murdering Sadie and everyone can go home and live happily ever after.’

  ‘Happily ever after?’ Della was on her feet now, tilting as the restraints impeded her balance. ‘You killed my nan, the only family I had. What have I got to be happy about?’

  Eleanor twisted round angrily. ‘She wouldn’t tell me where Helen was and she started shouting. I didn’t hit her that hard.’

  ‘No, but you finished her off in the hospital,’ said Maggie. ‘We’ve seen the CCTV.’

  Della began sobbing. ‘She was all I had.’

  ‘At least you had a family,’ Eleanor shouted. ‘I’m cursed!’

  ‘Your inability to have children has nothing to do with what happened to Helen,’ said Maggie.

  Eleanor flew at her again. The bolt cutters missed Maggie’s cheek by millimetres.

  ‘It’s my punishment for what I did! I did a bad thing and now I can’t have babies because of it.’

  ‘I don’t understand what’s going on,’ Della implored Maggie. ‘She killed my nan because she can’t have children? What is she talking about?’

  ‘I told you I never meant to hurt her!’ said Eleanor, now pointing the bolt cutters in Della’s direction. ‘I adored Sadie. I used to go round every day after school with your mum and she was always so nice to me. When Helen was being horrible to me, which was all the fucking time, Sadie would defend me and tell her off.’ Eleanor grimaced. ‘I only wanted to know if Helen had come back. I didn’t go to see her with the intention of hurting her.’

  ‘I know. You thought the nurse at the IVF centre was Helen. You thought Sadie would know where she was.’

  Eleanor looked startled for a moment.

  ‘Your husband told us everything. You could’ve saved Helen,’ said Maggie. ‘You had the chance, right after the crash.’

  The statement stopped Eleanor and she sank to the floor.

  Maggie surreptitiously reached round her waist beneath her coat to unfasten her baton from her belt.

  ‘Simon was in hospital and everyone else was dead. What was I meant to do? I loved him so much, I wanted to help him.’

  ‘When did you stop loving him? I assume you must have, because why else would you try to kill him by putting the diazepam in his wine?’

  Eleanor shook her head sadly. ‘Of course I still love him. But I knew if he found out what I’d done to Sadie, he’d make me confess, so I panicked. I’d already drugged him so I could go to Mansell to see her – when I got back and saw he was still unconscious, I forced more tablets and vodka down his throat.’

  ‘Did you mean to kill yourself?’

  Eleanor gave a horrible rictus grin. ‘No. If I can’t have a family with Simon, I’ll find someone else. Don’t you get it? Everything I’ve done is for my babies.’

  ‘There are a few things I still don’t understand.’ Maggie needed to keep Eleanor talking while she figured out a way to get them all out of there. ‘Why did you disguise yourself to visit Sadie? And why did you book that second hotel room?’

  Eleanor smirked. ‘The wig? I grew up in the next street and I didn’t want anyone to recognize me, like Sadie’s nosy next-door neighbour. Audrey would’ve had a field day if she saw it was me and been straight on the phone to the police once Sadie was found.’

  ‘And the hotel room?’

  ‘So I could keep an eye on her,’ said Eleanor, pointing at Della. ‘I thought if Helen was back, she might visit her daughter. I drove down every day after Simon went to work and hung around.’

  ‘Why did you steal the framed photograph and Sadie’s rings?’

  ‘When I realized Sadie was hurt I thought I’d better make it look like a break-in. I’d picked up copies of the local rag while I was hanging around the Langston and knew there’d been others involving old ladies.’

  ‘What about the album pictures of Della? Why take those?’

  Eleanor seemed surprised by the question. ‘They were lovely pictures. Della was such a cute baby.’

  ‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ cried Della. ‘What happened to my mum?’

  Maggie moved the torch beam away from Eleanor a fraction so she could see Della’s fa
ce. Looking down, she realized Bea was awake. She went to say something but Bea shook her head slightly then closed her eyes again.

  ‘Maggie?’ Della prompted.

  ‘This woman used be called Gillian Smith. She was your mum’s best friend and she married Niall Hargreaves after the accident I told you about, the one that killed his friends. Niall was sent to prison for dangerous driving and after his release he changed his name too, to Simon Bramwell.’

  ‘What did they do to my mum?’ said Della, her voice barely a whisper.

  Eleanor staggered to her feet again. She was incredibly drunk now, which put Maggie at an advantage. But she didn’t want to make a move until she’d got Bea and Della out of there. She couldn’t be sure that Eleanor wasn’t armed with something other than the bolt cutters.

  ‘Where are you going? Tell me what you did to my mum,’ Della screamed at Eleanor as tears streamed down her face.

  ‘Della, don’t—’ cautioned Maggie.

  But it was too late. Before Maggie could stop her, Eleanor was across the room and pulled back the blanket. There was no mistaking the bones she exposed for being anything other than human.

  As Della’s anguished screams echoed around the chamber, Maggie saw a flash of movement to her right, then splinters of blue light danced across the ceiling as Beatrice, with all the might she could muster and using both hands, slammed the bottle of gin across the back of Eleanor’s neck, sending her flying forward onto the ground. Maggie sprang across the room and slapped her handcuffs on Eleanor before she could move.

  Bea dropped to her knees next to them, breathing hoarsely. Maggie could see blood dripping from a wound at the back of her head.

  ‘I’m going to get you out of here,’ she said, trying to make herself heard above Della’s screaming. She spoke directly into her radio, her voice rapid and high-pitched.

  ‘All clear. Suspect detained. Require urgent medical assistance.’ Immediately she heard the clamour of shoes hitting the metal rungs on the ladder above.