Prime Justice

by M A Comley

  “Nothing major. Just that Joe and I think we’ve located the thug who drove Charlie and Brandon off the road.”

  “That’s fantastic news. How?”

  “Joe rang one of his informants to see if there was any word about the incident on the street. He came up trumps with this name. We’re outside his house now.”

  “Hearsay ain’t going to get this guy arrested, Tony. You know that.”

  “I know that, Lorne. We’re going to keep him under surveillance for the next day or two. Get a look at his car, see if there are any signs of contact, if we can. I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Sorry for snapping. Keep your distance and promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “You have my word on that.”

  “And when we get home tonight, don’t mention it in front of Charlie. Got that?”

  “Yep, roger that. See you later.”

  Lorne hung up and leaned back in her chair. It was turning out to be a very good day indeed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lorne arrived at work the following day with renewed enthusiasm for the case, seeing a possible ending in sight. She was relieved to hear that the team had been granted the search warrant they needed for the suspect’s house and that all the paperwork had been finally sent to the bank to stop the second payment leaving Miss Oughton’s account and also preventing Rogers from accessing the funds in his account. Let’s hope stopping that transfer doesn’t put Amanda Oughton’s life in further jeopardy —if she’s still alive!

  One hour after arriving at the station, Lorne and AJ, along with a couple of uniformed officers, set off to the address in two cars. They pulled into Shoreditch Road and approached the property. She pointed at one of the burly uniformed officers. “You stay with me, Tyler. AJ, you and Shaw go round the back just in case he’s here and tries to make a run for it.”

  The two men left. “You ready for this, Tyler?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his truncheon in hand.

  “Then let’s break it down.” She stood back as Tyler charged the door. It caved in on the second attempt. “Good man.” Together, they surveyed the downstairs of the smelly, untidy house. Clearly, no one had visited the home in months.

  Lorne walked into the front room. “Crap, right through a cobweb. We better check upstairs. Doesn’t look like anyone has been near the place in ages.”

  “I agree, ma’am.”

  Lorne led the way up the creaking staircase. The downstairs was nothing compared to what they encountered upstairs. Every room was filled with boxes, and newspapers were piled high in each room except the main bedroom, which at least had a bed in it, even if the mattress was ripped and covered in huge stains.

  Lorne gagged at the odour—a mixture of vomit and urine. “I can’t put up with this smell any longer.”

  “Want me to check under the bed just in case, ma’am?” Tyler asked eagerly.

  “Would be an idea. Please don’t tell me if you see anything dead under there, though.”

  Tyler tentatively got down on his knees and peered under the bed. “Nope, nothing here.”

  She let out a relieved breath. “Phew, okay, we’ll call it a day and inform the others.”

  AJ and Shaw met them outside the front door. “Nothing in here. I had a good feeling about today, but that’s been shot down in flames now. Back to the station and start looking for clues again. I doubt we’re going to find anything else here.”

  “Maybe there’s a basement,” AJ offered.

  Lorne frowned. “Not on this street, AJ. Good idea, though.”

  After AJ and Shaw repaired and secured the door the best they could, the four of them returned to the station. The rest of the day proved to be a nightmare. Every time they thought they’d uncovered another lead on George Rogers, their hopes were dashed almost immediately. At five o’clock, Lorne announced she was knocking off early. “I’m going to call in on Rebecca on the way home, see if this man’s name rings a bell with her. See you all bright and early tomorrow. Be good.”

  Green Gables was eerily quiet when Lorne pulled into the drive. Few lights were on in the house, but Lorne expected to see far more because of the evening drawing in. She rang the bell. Ruth opened the door and seemed surprised to see Lorne. Her head bowed instantly. “Come in. I’ll tell Miss Walker-Scott you’re here.”

  “Thank you, Ruth.” The lack of eye contact and the way the woman was holding her head made Lorne reach for her arm and ask, “Is everything okay?”

  The woman nodded and scurried up the hallway into the lounge. She emerged a few seconds later and pointed. “Go in. I’ll make you both a coffee.”

  Lorne poked her head around the lounge door. “Hi, Rebecca, forgive the impromptu visit. I just wanted to see how you were getting along.”

  “Lovely to see you, Inspector. Please take a seat.” Rebecca pulled a tissue from the box beside her and dried her eyes.

  “Have I called at a bad moment?”

  Rebecca didn’t answer immediately. She seemed distant in spite of sitting in the same room as Lorne. “No, there’s never a good moment nowadays. At least that’s how it seems.”

  “Is there something you want to share with me?”

  The door opened, and Ruth entered the room. The cups and saucers jangled on the tray as she placed it on the coffee table.

  Lorne caught Ruth’s hand before she could stand upright. “Look at me, Ruth,” she ordered. Slowly, the woman’s head lifted to look at Lorne. She gasped. “What the hell? Who did this? Has someone been at the house causing trouble? Is that why you both appear to be upset?” Both women remained silent. Lorne let go of Ruth’s wrist, and the maid flew out of the room. “Rebecca, please, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

  Rebecca lifted her cup and saucer, took a sip of her drink, and lowered the cup and saucer onto her lap. “I’m afraid I can’t really understand it myself, Inspector. We’ve had a hell of a day.”

  “That’s not really helping me to understand. What’s happened? Why is Ruth walking around here with a black eye? Wait… where’s her husband? John, is it?” Rebecca’s hand covered her mouth for a second or two. “Please, Rebecca, I can’t help if you’re not willing to confide in me. Did he batter Ruth?”

  Tears coursed down Rebecca’s cheeks. “Yes. Oh, God. That man has been living under this roof for over fifteen years, and I never knew…”

  Lorne’s heart raced. Rebecca looked distraught beyond words. “You’re not making any sense. You never knew what? Tell me!”

  “So much anger. No person has the right to feel so much anger. It eats away at you, destroys you and others. I never knew he had that in him.”

  Rebecca was talking gibberish. Lorne rushed out of the room and into the kitchen, where she found Ruth hunched over the table, in tears. She pulled out the chair beside the woman and placed her hand on the woman’s arm. Ruth flinched at her touch. “Ruth, you must tell me what has gone on here today. Why did John hit you? Where is he now?”

  “He’s gone. Left me,” she howled as fresh tears mingled with the old ones.

  “For good?”

  Ruth nodded. “Yes. Why did I waste so many years trying to make him happy?”

  “Why did he hit you, Ruth?”

  “Because I refused to go with him.”

  “Why?”

  “I like it here. I feel secure here and love working for this family. But he hated it. Always wanted to better himself.”

  Lorne’s eyes widened as the realisation dawned. “My God, was it him? Did he kill Nadine?” When Ruth refused to answer, Lorne grabbed her by the shoulders and forced Ruth to look at her. “Answer me!”

  “Please let me go. You’re hurting me.”

  “Let you go? Unless you start telling me the truth, I’ll be arresting you as an accessory to the murder. Now tell me—was it him?”

  “Yes,” she wailed, trying to wriggle free from Lorne’s grip.

  “Get up.” She forced the woman to stand and pul
led her into the lounge. “Ladies, I understand how upset you must be right now, but there’s a murderer on the loose. For God’s sake, will someone please tell me what time he left?”

  Sniffling Ruth replied, “About one o’clock.”

  “Where? Where’s he heading? Come on, Ruth—tell me!”

  “The airport. You’ve missed him by now; I’m sure of it.”

  Lorne dug into her pocket and withdrew her phone. She rang the incident room with her fingers crossed.

  AJ answered the call.

  “Crap, I’m glad you’re still there. There’s been a development. John Davey is the killer, and he’s running.”

  “What? The gardener at the big house?”

  “Yes, we don’t have time to go over the details. He’s on his way to the airport. Put out an alert on him, now!” Lorne turned to Ruth. “Which airport?”

  Ruth shook her head. “He refused to tell me, said it was none of my business.”

  “Where is he flying to?” Lorne demanded.

  Ruth shrugged. “He refused to tell me.”

  Lorne eyed her suspiciously. “You better be telling me the truth, Ruth.”

  The housekeeper nodded.

  Lorne turned her attention back to AJ. “We don’t know where he’s heading. Just put an alert out at all airports. I suspect we’re going to be too late, though.”

  “Yes, boss. On it now.”

  Lorne hung up. “Ruth, you better start talking, or I will definitely be laying charges at your door… accessory to murder, perverting the course of justice—need I continue?”

  Rebecca gasped. “You can’t do that, Lorne. She had nothing to do with this.”

  “Then someone had better start filling me in and let me be the judge of that.”

  Ruth sighed. “He’s been wanting to take off for a while now. I kept telling him that I wanted to stay here. I had no idea that he intended to kill Mrs. Walker-Scott.”

  “But you knew he had, and yet you hid the fact. Why?”

  Ruth pointed at her bruised face. “He’s beaten me for years, subjected me to verbal and physical abuse. You don’t speak out against a man capable of doing that, especially if you know he’s willing to go the extra mile and kill someone.”

  Lorne nodded, her own relationship with Tom filtering through her mind. He’d hit her a few times during their marriage. Fortunately, she’d had the strength to give as good as she got. But even then, in an abusive marriage, she had experienced how a woman often lived under a dark cloud, afraid to open her mouth, to have an opinion on anything. “I understand, but surely you could have found a way to have got in touch with me. We could have arrested him straight away. Now we might never find him.”

  “I’m sorry. You really don’t know what it was like, living in constant fear. If I thought I could have got word to you, I would have. I regret my actions.”

  Words are cheap, lady. You might regret your actions now because it reflects badly on you, but it might be too late. “Surely he must have hinted at a destination that appeals to him?”

  “No. Just somewhere warm, he said. Fed up with the dreary weather in the UK.”

  Lorne scratched her head as she spoke, “What about the other woman—Kath Brinck? Did he kill her, too?”

  Ruth nodded. “I think so.”

  Lorne’s blood boiled. “You think, or you know, Ruth? No bullshit now—I want the truth.”

  “Yes, he kept her in the shed at the bottom of the garden.”

  “He what? And you said nothing!” Rebecca screeched.

  “I’m sorry. My hands were tied. If I’d spoken out, I know that I would have been one of his victims.”

  “And just how many bloody victims have there been over the years, Ruth? Care to enlighten us?”

  “I don’t know, to be truthful. Five, ten, maybe more.”

  “What? Why? What’s his motivation for the killings?”

  Ruth shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  Lorne chewed the inside of her mouth to keep her anger in check. “Forgive me when I say that I don’t believe you.”

  “I really don’t care, Inspector.”

  “I’m ordering you to tell the inspector everything you know, Ruth, or you can pack your bags now.”

  Wide-eyed, Ruth glanced at Rebecca. “That’s all I know. How can you treat me like this after all the loyalty I’ve shown you and your mother over the years?”

  “How? How do you think I should treat the wife of the man who brutally killed my bloody mother? Go on—answer me that, if you dare?”

  Ruth looked down at the floor, her feet shuffling in embarrassment. “I’ve nothing to do with this. He bullied me to keep quiet. I feared for my own life.”

  Lorne raised her hand. “Stop the crap, Ruth. I’ve heard enough.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her handcuffs, turned the woman around, and slapped them on her wrists.

  “What are you doing? You can’t arrest me—I’ve done nothing wrong!” the housekeeper exclaimed, bewildered.

  “That’s exactly why I’m arresting you, for doing nothing when you knew your husband was a murderer.” Lorne read the woman her rights.

  Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t believe we’ve given these people money over the years. After everything we’ve done for you, and this is the way you repay us? You make me sick, Ruth. You’re just as guilty as him.”

  “I’m not. You can’t put me in the same category as him. Please…”

  Lorne tutted. “The fact that you were aware of what was going on makes you just as guilty, Ruth. There’s no denying that.” Lorne took out her phone again and called the station. “AJ, it’s me again.”

  “Give me a chance, boss.”

  “Sorry, I’m not ringing up about that. Will you send out a patrol car to pick Ruth Davey up? I’ve arrested her as an accessory.” Ruth struggled and escaped Lorne’s grasp. “Gotta go.” Lorne threw her phone on the sofa and ran after the woman. She hooked out a leg and tripped Ruth before she could reach the door. The woman toppled to the ground and began to sob.

  “You try that again, and I’ll be forced to hurt you next time.” Lorne retrieved her phone and punched in another number. “Patti, it’s Lorne. We’ve had a development on the Walker-Scott case. The gardener killed her, and he’s on the run. I’ve arrested the wife because she mentioned the other victim, Kath Brinck, was killed in the garden shed at Green Gables. Can you send a team out to examine the area for me?”

  “Whoa, congratulations. That’s a turn-up for the books. I’ll action it right away—oh wait, shall I send them in the morning instead, when the light is better? Any chance of catching this guy?”

  “Morning would be fine by me. As soon as the patrol car turns up, I’ll take a look down there myself, see if I can see anything.”

  “Don’t go inside, Lorne.”

  “I won’t. I know better than to do that. And to answer one of your previous questions, we don’t know where Davey is heading, although we know that he was en route to the airport. I have AJ checking the flight details now.”

  “You’re on the ball, as usual. I’ll get my team out there first thing and hopefully report back to you with the results in the next day or two.”

  “Thanks, Patti. You’re a treasure. I better go now.”

  Lorne hung up and glanced at Rebecca, who was sitting in her chair next to the fireplace, glaring at Ruth and shaking her head in disgust. “Are you going to be all right, Rebecca?”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, Inspector. When everyone around me who I trusted has stabbed me in the back, how could I be?”

  “Maybe you should consider moving to a hotel for the night, just in case John returns.”

  Rebecca chewed her lip, and fear settled in her eyes. “Do you think he would?”

  “I have no idea. I think it would be best if you didn’t stay here on your own at the very least. Can you call a friend perhaps?”

  “I’ve lost contact with a lot of my friends because o
f my relationship with Robert. I guess I have a lot of making up to do with people.”

  “I’d feel happier if you stayed at a hotel. I’d offer you a room at my place, but I have family issues of my own to deal with at present.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll pack a bag now.”

  Lorne smiled at Rebecca as she left the room. She met the two uniformed officers at the door and handed Ruth Davey over to them. “Bang her up in a cell for the night. I’ll interview her under caution tomorrow.” She watched them place Ruth in the back of the patrol car then went back inside and waited for Rebecca to join her in the lounge. “Want me to drop you off somewhere?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I’ve got the car outside. Would you mind hanging around for a minute while I set the alarm?”

  “Of course. May I remind you that SOCO will be arriving first thing? They’ll need access to the garden shed and possibly to John’s room for possible DNA samples to match to.”

  “I’ll be back here by seven. How’s that? Not that I’ll get any sleep. Perhaps I should stay here, after all.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. Wait, before you lock up the house, I promised the pathologist I would take a quick look at the garden shed. I don’t suppose you have a torch lying around?”

  “Yes, under the stairs. Just a sec.”

  Lorne took the bulky torch and headed out the back door. The shed was tucked away in the bottom corner of the plot. Tentatively, she opened the door and poked her head inside. What she saw turned her stomach in an instant. Blood stained the base of the hut, and a bench was covered with bloody saws. Lorne swiftly closed the door and blew out a breath. At least there wasn’t a body inside.

  Lorne returned to the house just as Rebecca was setting the alarm. She took the woman’s overnight bag and left the house. After depositing the bag into Rebecca’s boot, they both jumped into their respective cars and left the drive.

  When she arrived home, Lorne found a jubilant Tony singing as he stirred a pot on the stove. “Is that curry I smell?”

  “It’s a new recipe I’m trying, one out of Charlie’s magazines.” He bent down to kiss her lips. “Hey, why the glum face?”