Secrets of the Dead: A serial killer thriller that will have you hooked (Detective Robyn Carter crime thriller series Book 2)

by Carol Wyer

‘Six years,’ she replied.

  ‘Like it here? It seems a really nice place to work.’

  ‘It’s okay. We’re a small team but we get on well.’

  ‘Get many famous clients in from the hotel?’

  ‘We used to have quite a few pop stars and television personalities. I’m not supposed to gossip about them. We’re supposed to respect every guest’s privacy, regardless of who they are. Back in the day when Lord and Lady Bishton ran the place, we had celebs arriving every weekend. They used to land their helicopters on the helipad or arrive in limos. It was fantastic. We were even allowed to meet them in the bar after work. Lord B. knew how to attract the big names.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper and told him the names of some famous guests who had stayed at the Hall in the past.

  ‘It was different then. Nowadays, we get well-off people, although far fewer celebs. When Lord Bishton sold the place, it all changed. The consortium that purchased the Hall made some changes and now we have an additional fifty members who can use the facilities during the day, as well as hotel guests. It’s all about money these days,’ she huffed. ‘I preferred the place when it was smaller and more intimate. The Bishtons added this new extension purely to make the place saleable. I liked working in the Hall. We had individual treatment rooms on the ground floor that were created from the servants’ quarters. I loved the old red and gold decor. You felt like you worked somewhere special. This could be any modern spa.’

  ‘What was it like before the extension?’

  ‘The Hall had the twenty-two rooms it has today. Downstairs, the Long Galley was a grand dining room, and off it was a champagne bar. Nowadays the Long Galley is only used as a ballroom for the annual summer ball. They turned the old ballroom into the dining room that hotel guests use at night. When we had pop stars visiting, they’d sometimes give an impromptu concert after dinner. The spa area was actually below that floor. Now that’s all changed and become a staff canteen and the laundry rooms.

  ‘It used to be a breathtaking, oval-shaped swimming pool. The sides were made up of hundreds of coloured mosaic tiles, and there were jets of water and waterfalls that massaged your back and neck. It was very grand, with large stone pillars by the steps, and statues of lions. If you pressed the right button, water used to flow from the lion’s mouths. It was like being in an Egyptian palace. Not that I’ve been in one,’ she giggled.

  ‘It must have cost a fortune to drain and fill in the area. Seems a crazy idea when they could have put a canteen in the extension instead.’

  He felt the pressure on his neck and shoulders change. Lorna lifted her hands from his body.

  ‘That’s the end of your session, Mr Cunningham. Wait for a few moments before you get up and don’t sit up too quickly.’

  She left him to get dressed. He didn’t move immediately. His brain had begun to stir into action. The rainforest sounds were beginning to irritate him. He sat up on the couch and shook himself from his reverie. Was it his imagination or had Lorna suddenly clammed up?

  Jakub had cleaned the changing rooms and was sitting in the staff canteen with a coffee when the guest turned up. The man came across as vaguely ridiculous, in his huge white dressing gown and complimentary slippers, and very uncomfortable, as if he felt out of place. His hair was awry but his eyes were bright and sharp. He lifted a hand and joined Jakub at the table.

  He smiled genially. ‘I seem to have got lost. My wife told me the restaurant was down here.’

  Jakub shook his head. ‘No, here is staff. Restaurant not here.’

  The man pulled out a stool and sat opposite him. ‘What a fabulous place! I’m glad I came here. My friend came a few years ago. I think it must have changed since he was here. He told me there was a swimming pool here.’

  ‘Pool gone,’ said Jakub, wishing the man would go. He liked to enjoy his coffee break in peace. ‘In new part,’ he added, pointing at the door that would lead to the new building, hoping the man would head off and look for it. He didn’t. Instead the stranger pulled out a packet of chocolate biscuits from the pocket of his dressing gown and offered one to Jakub, who refused.

  ‘Sure? They’re very good. I’m addicted to them.’ He tipped one out and bit into before passing the packet over. ‘Go on. Take one. They’ll go well with your coffee.’

  Jakub grunted thanks and extracted one from the packet. He hadn’t eaten breakfast again, and Bruno wasn’t on duty to sneak him any toast or leftovers. His stomach gave a growl of appreciation.

  ‘You been here long?’

  ‘Five years.’

  ‘You knew the place before they built the extension?’

  Jakub nodded and chomped on his biscuit. The man was right. It was very tasty.

  ‘Pity they got rid of the pool. It sounded lovely: pillars, lion statues, jacuzzis.’

  ‘Yes. Very pretty, like spas in Poland.’

  ‘Yet they filled it in. Madness. What made them do that, eh?’ Ross’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise, two dark circumflexes over bright eyes. Jakub studied the man’s face. He wasn’t the usual sort of guest, and guests didn’t ordinarily engage Jakub in conversation, especially about an event that had occurred in the past. He popped the rest of the biscuit into his mouth and drained his coffee.

  ‘Must go. Work. This is canteen for staff. You go too, please.’

  He pushed back his chair and left the man in his dressing gown.

  Ross pulled out another biscuit and bit into it. His hunch was right. No one wanted to talk about the old spa. Could there be a link between it and the death of Miles Ashbrook? He would have to box clever to get information out of these folks.

  Twenty-Five

  Robyn had returned from her run and now sat with Post-it notes laid out on her desk in rows. She had written down her thoughts on separate yellow squares, and was studying each in turn when a pink-cheeked Anna rushed into the office. She waved her notepad.

  ‘Might have a lead in the Linda Upton case, guv. We’ve got a sighting of an unknown man waiting for the bus to Lichfield.’

  She read out the information on the pad. Flora Mackay, who lived at the Thatched Cottage in Manor Road, was walking to the post box at approximately ten fifteen yesterday morning when she’d spotted a man wearing a blue coat waiting by the bus stop. He was partly hidden from view by some overgrown bushes near the stop. She paid him little attention other than to cast a disapproving look as he tossed a cigarette butt onto the pavement and trod it down. The village had won the Best-Kept Village competition that year, and as she was on the parish council it was her job to ensure that standards were maintained. The council aimed to keep Kings Bromley neat and tidy all year round. She was about to speak to the man about it when the bus pulled up and he got on it. Flora picked up the cigarette butt herself and threw it in the nearest bin.

  Anna’s words tumbled out: ‘The man wasn’t a local. Flora has a good idea of who lives in Kings Bromley. She’s lived there all her life and is a member of the parish council and the local church. The man might have nothing to do with Linda Upton, but it’s something to go on. Mitz is at the bus depot waiting to talk to the driver who was on that route yesterday. Apparently, the bus is rarely busy at that time and they are considering reducing the timetable to only two buses a day, so we might get lucky.’

  Robyn studied her young colleague, keen and anxious to make the right impression, and was reminded of herself when she first joined the force. She chewed on a ripped thumbnail. It was possible that Linda’s attacker had casually left the scene of the crime and caught a bus out of the village, rather than risk his own vehicle being seen. Maybe he didn’t even drive. Anna had followed her instinct, and who was Robyn to criticise that? At the moment, it was all she had. She couldn’t discount any theory. She gave up on her nail and stared at her own notes, each one a theory, an idea – no more than a hunch.

  ‘No chance you found the cigarette end?’

  Anna shook her head. ‘I headed straight to the bin but it had been emptied.’ />
  She nodded approvingly. ‘If Linda Upton was attacked shortly after she took her son to school, it is feasible that this man is connected to her murder or saw something that might help us. I see Flora describes the man as “in his thirties, wearing a dark blue jacket and jeans”.’

  ‘She apologised for not being able to be more helpful. She didn’t really take much notice of him. It was only when she spotted the cigarette being dropped that she paid attention. The words she used to describe him were “scruffy” and “wild-eyed”.’

  A smile twitched Robyn’s lips. ‘There’s an expression you don’t hear every day. Good job, Anna. I’ll leave you and Mitz to pursue this line of enquiry. I’ve tried to uncover a link between Rory Wallis and Linda Upton, and I can’t find anything. Matt has brought over her mobile. Did you look at her social media sites and emails to see if there’s any link to Rory Wallis – if they’re friends on Facebook or if she was following him on Twitter?’

  ‘I checked everything. It didn’t take long because her husband handed over her passwords. There’s nothing of note on her call log or emails – even deleted stuff. She seems to have texted a couple of women in her village now and again, had a network of friends on Facebook who are also mothers, and was a member of a couple of health-conscious groups. She was into keep fit and did Pilates and a few classes at the local village hall. I couldn’t find anything on Rory’s devices other than calls to his mum or work-related numbers. He was quite a loner. He didn’t bother with Facebook, and his browsing history was mostly to do with gaming websites.’

  ‘Blast! I was hoping you’d found something. Okay, thanks. I’ll let you get on with this hunt for the man at the bus stop. If anyone wants me, I’ll be in the village about three miles away from Kings Bromley. It’s right next to the A38. Place called Alrewas – I’m going to chat to Linda’s husband.’

  Late-blooming roses arched over the thatched cottage doorway, clinging onto their pale pink petals that were now twisted and browned by the first frosts of the year. The house was chocolate-box perfect, nestled between two charming white and black timber-framed buildings. The lane behind Alrewas village church had been a revelation to Robyn: quintessentially English, with perfect front gardens, now neatly trimmed, ready for winter. She knocked on the front door of Blossom Cottage and was greeted by a tall, thin man in his thirties. His face was drawn and his eyes bruised with tiredness. She recognised him as Robert Upton. She held up her warrant card and he motioned her inside.

  It was dim in the hallway, although the smell of fresh baking from the kitchen made the place seem cosier. Robert opened a door and ushered her into a room with low wooden beams, filled with antique furniture, where a log fire roared in a grate. Shining horse brasses hung over the fireplace, and in niches in the brick wall there were photographs of smiling people, much like those she had seen in the house at Kings Bromley. Robert invited her to take a chair, and no sooner had she dropped onto the wide cushion than the door opened and a woman, smartly dressed in tailored trousers, cashmere sweater and expensive loafers appeared, her ash-blonde hair held back in a large, tortoiseshell hair slide.

  ‘Mum, this is Detective Inspector Carter.’

  A look of anguish crossed the woman’s face. She whispered, ‘Is it about Linda?’

  Robyn nodded.

  ‘I’ll keep Louis occupied,’ she continued. ‘He keeps asking when she’s coming back.’ Her voice faltered for a second and she turned to leave. As she did, a cheery-faced boy carrying a toy dinosaur wandered into the room. He studied her. ‘Hello, I’m Louis and I’m four years old. How old are you?’

  ‘You can’t ask a lady her age.’ Robert’s mother put a hand on his head. He twisted away from it.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s rude to ask.’

  ‘Why? I don’t think it’s rude.’

  ‘Well, it’s what we call personal.’

  ‘My dinosaur is hundreds of years old,’ said Louis, ignoring his grandmother and coming further into the room to show off his toy. Robyn took in his auburn hair, much like his mother’s, his round cheeks and bright eyes. No one had yet told him his mother was never coming back. ‘I have lots of dinosaurs and a dinosaur skellyton. Mummy is going to make up it up with me when she gets back. She had to go away urgently. I can’t wait for her to come home. I really want to make it up and take it to school but Daddy can’t do it, so I have to wait. Are you any good at making up things?’

  Robyn held her hand out for the dinosaur. ‘This is one of the most terrifying dinosaurs in the world.’

  His head bobbed up and down in agreement. ‘It is. It’s a tyrannosaurus.’ He grinned a gap-toothed smile in delight at having pronounced the name correctly.

  ‘And you’re not afraid of it?’ she asked. ‘It’s a big monster.’

  The boy shook his head. She handed it back to him. ‘Then you are a very brave boy.’ She smiled at him, her heart heavy.

  He grinned. ‘I am brave. Mummy told me I was brave when I fell over and cut my knee.’ He showed Robyn a small scar on his kneecap. ‘I didn’t cry.’

  His grandmother took him by the hand. ‘Come on, Louis. The lady wants to talk to your daddy. Let’s go and get the cake out of the oven.’

  ‘It’s going to be a dinosaur cake,’ Louis said happily, swinging his dinosaur by the leg and disappearing from view.

  Robert’s face had turned grey. She understood why. ‘He doesn’t know, does he?’

  Robert swallowed a sob and shook his head. ‘We’re going to tell him later today. I just wanted him to have one last day before we shatter his world. He and Linda were so close. He was everything to her, and she was such a good mum.’

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I completely understand what you’re going through. I can’t make it better for you, but I can try and find whoever is responsible.’

  ‘And what have you found out so far, detective?’

  ‘It’s still early on in terms of identifying a suspect. We have several leads, and some new information has recently come to light. I assure you we are all working flat out on this.’ There was no need to tell the man any more than that. Even if – when – they found the murderer, it wouldn’t help Robert Upton or his son. Nothing would compensate them for losing Linda.

  ‘Would you mind answering a few questions?’

  ‘About Linda?’ Robert blew his nose on a handkerchief. The reality of her death was beginning to hit home. ‘I can’t arrange a funeral until her body is released, you know?’

  ‘That’s normal procedure, sir. They’ll release her as soon as they can.’

  He eyeballed the mobile lying on the table, as if Linda might ring him. Suddenly he spoke, his eyes moist. ‘I was on my way back from Dubai. I’d been away for a week trying to help negotiate a new engineering contract with my boss. I only spoke to her yesterday morning to tell her my flight was on time and I’d see her for dinner. She was in a fluster. Louis wouldn’t get ready for school and wanted to play with his dinosaur. She had to rush off and I didn’t even get to tell her how much I loved her.’ He stopped and swallowed quietly.

  ‘I’m sure she knew.’

  He nodded an affirmation. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Did your wife ever go to Lichfield? For a meal or a night out?’

  He rubbed at his eyes. ‘She used to shop now and again in Lichfield. I’m sure she’d have gone there for coffee with friends from the school or village. She’s even been with my mum, although they both prefer shopping in Burton. She wasn’t one for going out at night, unless it was with me. We only moved into the area five years ago. It was Linda’s idea. We were trying for a family. She wanted to bring a child up in a village rather than a busy town. She had an image of inviting local kids around for afternoon tea and play dates. She was an only child, and it was pretty lonely growing up, by all accounts. She wanted our children’s lives to be different. It helped that my mum and dad live here in Alrewas, so we moved from Sutton Coldfield and came to Kings Brom
ley. Her old friends still live around and near Sutton, although she hasn’t stayed in touch with them. You know how it is; you get married, have kids, move away and move on.

  ‘When we first moved to Kings Bromley, she joined a running club in Lichfield. She got heavily into it and used to run almost every day and go out with the girls three times a week. She became good friends with Harriet, one of the girls who was the same age. They broke away from the original group and started training together. They did a couple of fun runs and a half marathon. Then Harriet died and Linda stopped running altogether. A few weeks after Harriet’s death, she discovered she was pregnant. After Louis was born, she became involved with a mums’ group in the village, and she seemed quite content to be part of that and occasionally go to the local exercise class in the village hall. She knew everyone at the class, if that’s any help. I’m sure they’ll be able to tell you more.’

  ‘They’ll be interviewed in due course.’

  Robert dragged his hands through his hair. ‘She was one of the best. She was one of those people who was content with everything in life. And she adored Louis.’ His eyes became moist and he gulped back the tears that threatened.

  Robyn wasn’t sure she was asking the right questions. Nothing so far helped her. She had ruled out Robert as a suspect since he was on a flight back at the time of Linda’s death. As for a connection between Linda and Rory, it was possible that Linda had met Rory in Lichfield, but certainly not through running, and it was unlikely that Linda would frequent a pub alone or with a child in tow. That was confirmed a few moments later when she learned Linda was, like Rory, teetotal.

  ‘She gave up drinking about the time she found out she was pregnant and has never drunk since.’

  Robyn could gather no more useful information or establish any connection to Rory Wallis. She was about to leave the house when she spotted the same photo of Linda with a female friend that she had seen in the Uptons’ house – the one with the two women showing off their medals and wearing pink ribbons in their hair. She pointed at it. ‘Is that Linda’s friend, Harriet? Did she have cancer?’