by Kate Ellis
Rachel reached out and touched the girl’s hand, a gesture of support, but Phoebe flinched as though she’d hit her. Then Rachel handed her a card with her contact details and Phoebe took it and folded it into the smallest possible square before tipping it on to the coffee table.
As they walked back to the police station, Rachel recounted her conversation with Phoebe.
‘I don’t think it was a success,’ she said.
‘I don’t agree,’ said Wesley. ‘It’s given us a better idea of what Andrea Jameson was like. And, who knows, now she’s gone Phoebe might have second thoughts about naming her attacker.’
It was mid-afternoon by the time Wesley reached Lower Torworthy. He’d called in at the police station in Tradmouth on the way back from the Jakeses’ house, only to find that Gerry and Trish were still interviewing Jason Fitch. He hadn’t had time to wait around until they’d finished.
When he arrived at the church hall he found Neil walking out of the main door; a happy example of perfect timing.
‘I’ve been looking for you but one of your minions said you were in Tradmouth.’
Wesley had to smile. He’d never considered himself the type to have minions.
‘I believe Charlie Perks came up trumps.’
‘He was a great help – sped things up no end.’
Neil thought for a moment. ‘As a matter of fact I want to speak to him myself. I’ve got a hunch that figure we found might not be the only one. If there’s another wrapped up in lead out there somewhere I need to find it.’ He paused. ‘I’ve discovered something that might interest you. In nineteen ninety-five a student was found dead in the field where those people were murdered.’
‘I know. What about it?’
Neil produced a plastic folder containing a wad of newspaper cuttings and handed it to Wesley. ‘A very nice canon from Exeter Cathedral lent me these.’
Wesley led the way into the church hall and they sat down by the desk that had become his for the duration of the investigation.
‘Alcuin Garrard was a PhD student researching the goings on in pre-Reformation Lower Torworthy. My canon was vicar here at the time and he got quite friendly with him.’
Wesley studied the cuttings in the folder. TRAGIC DEATH OF EXETER STUDENT. STUDENT DIES IN FREAK ACCIDENT. It was more or less what he expected to see and similar to the material found in the browsing history of Ian Evans’s computer. He was about to hand the folder back to Neil when he stopped himself. ‘Mind if I keep these for a couple of days?’
‘You don’t think it could be connected to your murders, do you?’
‘Probably not. But this man was found in the same field so I’m interested. Any more news about your little monk?’
‘I found a strange carving on the church roof – the little monk alongside a bigger version, only someone had covered the bigger figure with protection marks to ward off evil. I’m not sure what to make of it.’
‘Did Alcuin Garrard finish his thesis?’
‘Shouldn’t be hard to find out. Hopefully there’ll be a copy at the university.’
Neil left the church hall, almost bumping into Paul Johnson who was rushing in as though he had important news. Paul made straight for Wesley’s desk and sat down heavily in the seat Neil had just vacated.
‘I’ve just come back from Tradmouth. The gun they found on Jason Fitch’s yacht is a two point two – not the weapon we’re looking for. He says it’s an old rifle he uses for target practice. Claims he’s had it for years.’
‘I take it the boss knows?’
Paul nodded. ‘According to Fitch, when he heard about Andrea Jameson’s murder on the news he knew he’d be a suspect so he panicked and legged it. Been lying low ever since.’
‘Hardly the behaviour of an innocent man.’
‘Says he’s got some business deals in the pipeline and he couldn’t afford the distraction – that and his missus has been cutting up rough about his tangled love life. He says it was easier to stay on the boat and wait for things to calm down. He bought the boat last year but his missus doesn’t know about it. Uses it as a secret hideaway – a shag pad, he says.’
‘Was he asked why he didn’t turn up at Princebury Hall?’
‘His story tallies with his wife’s. She gave him an ultimatum so he stood Andrea up to keep the peace. He stormed out and drove round but he swears he didn’t go anywhere near Lower Torworthy.’
‘Does the boss believe him?’
Paul shrugged. ‘If you ask me he’s got guilty written all over him.’
‘That clinches it then,’ said Wesley.
Paul nodded earnestly. He’d never had much of a sense of humour.
Moriarty – named by Wesley after Sherlock Holmes’s nemesis – was a cat who enjoyed company and when Pam tried to prise her off her knee the claws came out and dug into her flesh. Gently Pam extricated herself and placed Moriarty on the floor in the kitchen beside her food bowl. She needed to fetch Amelia from her friend’s house in Whitely and if she didn’t hurry she’d be late.
She wasn’t sure what time Wesley would arrive home that evening. The double murder in Lower Torworthy was playing havoc with their domestic life and even her mother had gone AWOL. Della hadn’t called her from Princebury Hall so Pam assumed she was having a good time up there. In fact the only calls she’d received that day had been silent and in the end she’d unplugged the phone. If anyone she knew needed to contact her urgently there was always her mobile.
She switched on the burglar alarm and grabbed her car keys before slamming the front door behind her.
As she was about to climb into the driver’s seat she sensed something was wrong, looked down and saw that her front tyre was flat. Then she noticed that the back tyre was in the same state and when she circled the car she realised that all four had been attacked. Shaking with panic, she rushed to her neighbours’ house and hammered on the front door before remembering they were away.
She tried the other houses nearby but, being Saturday afternoon, nobody was at home. Whoever had vandalised her car had chosen the perfect time.
With trembling hands she took out her phone and called Wesley.
23
By the time Neil returned to the church his volunteers were packing up for the day and the wedding guests were starting to arrive so he was surprised to see Charlie Perks coming towards him down the aisle. Unusually he didn’t have his metal detector with him and his hair looked as though it had been washed since their last meeting.
‘I’ve been looking for you,’ said Perks.
‘That’s lucky. I wanted to talk to you as well. You know those workmen found that lead box? Well, I think there might be another.’
Perks caught on fast. ‘Where do you want me to start looking?’
‘Near where they found the first?’
Perks shook his head and a few flakes of dandruff fluttered on to the shoulders of his combat jacket. ‘That was in the street. Too many cables. Signal would be all over the place. You’d never find it and even if you did, you can’t just go digging up roads. Council don’t take kindly to that sort of thing.’
Neil had been carried away with the excitement of what he’d seen on the roof but he knew Perks was right. ‘What do you suggest then?’
‘There used to be a manor house on the road to Princebury.’ He paused. ‘Where all the police are.’
‘That’s exactly what I was thinking. Once the police have packed up I’ve got the farmer’s approval to do a geophysics survey and sink some test pits. According to old maps and the Historic Environment Record the building that used to be on the site was late medieval. One section of wall’s still standing and, judging by the terrain, there could be a lot under the ground. I’ve suggested the site for a training dig for local archaeology groups and students and the farmer seems happy about it.’
Perks grunted something Neil didn’t quite catch, then fumbled in one of his many pockets and brought something out. When he opened his hand Neil saw t
hat the object was a shiny gold ring.
‘I need to hand this in. Do you want to take charge of it?’
Neil took the ring from Perks’s outstretched palm and examined it. It was large enough to be a man’s signet ring and Neil felt a tingle of excitement as he held it, squinting to examine the engraving on the front.
He made for the vestry where the light was better and held the ring up, expecting to see initials or a family crest. But instead he recognised the familiar shape of the small wooden monk they’d found. He studied it for a while, wondering if there’d been some sort of devotional cult in the village, venerating a little machine the people considered miraculous?
‘I found it in that field,’ said Perks. ‘Turned it up when I was helping the cops. What do you make of it?’
In his absorption Neil had almost forgotten about Perks, who was looming in the doorway, blocking his exit.
‘I’d like to show it to someone at the university.’
Perks said nothing. He was looking around the vestry, taking in every detail.
‘I’ll notify the local finds liaison officer and the landowner as well. You look worried, Charlie.’
‘I know it’s got to be done and all that but it’s the best find I’ve had in ages and…’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it. Can you show me exactly where you found it?’ Neil said, impatient to see where this new treasure had come from.
Perks looked down at his feet like a naughty child caught out doing something he shouldn’t. ‘It wasn’t far from the gate. It’s cordoned off with police tape so I don’t think we should…’
Neil experienced a mixture of excitement and frustration. The promising field would be regarded as a crime scene for the time being so no archaeological investigation, however discreet, would be allowed until the police had finished.
Before he could say any more Perks turned to leave. Not for the first time Neil wondered about his life stuck in the middle of nowhere caring for his aged mother, although having another human being to look after was probably better than being alone in the world. For the past months he himself had experienced solitude and he’d had enough of it he thought as he took his phone from his pocket to call Lucy.
Wesley was busy examining a list of Andrea Jameson’s contacts gleaned from her computer when he received a call from Gerry telling him to get back to Tradmouth. He needed him to sit in on the next interview with Jason Fitch and the clock was ticking. As Wesley was making for his car his phone rang and when he saw it was Pam he wavered for a moment before answering. If it was some problem with her mother he really didn’t have time.
‘Someone’s slashed my tyres.’ Her voice was shaking and he pressed the phone closer to his ear. ‘The car was on the drive as usual and when I went out I found it like that. All four tyres.’
‘Did any of the neighbours see anything?’
‘Most of them are out. No one saw a thing.’
‘Have you noticed anyone hanging around?’
‘I would have said.’ He could tell she was on the verge of tears.
‘I’ll be there in half an hour,’ he said.
If they didn’t amass more evidence against Jason Fitch soon Gerry knew they’d have to release him.
He’d taken a break, partly at the request of Fitch’s solicitor and partly to give Wesley time to get there. Then Wesley had called to say Pam’s car had been vandalised and she was badly shaken. He’d sounded worried and he wasn’t the only one: Gerry knew Tradmouth wasn’t the sort of place where people’s cars were attacked in a respectable residential street, especially when no other vehicles nearby had been touched. It looked as though somebody had a grudge against Wesley, possibly because of his job – or the colour of his skin. The idea that some faceless ill-wisher had been out there watching his friend’s house, filled with enough hatred to inflict damage like that, disturbed him. With Wesley and Pam’s recent troubles this was the last thing they needed.
He sat there going through all their cases in his mind, recent and not so recent, but he couldn’t think of any obvious suspects, unless it was an irate relative of somebody they’d locked up. Although why pick on Wesley in particular?
Paul Johnson had come down from Lower Torworthy so Gerry allowed him to sit in on the interview in Wesley’s absence because time was running out. At least Paul knew when to keep his mouth shut and let Gerry do the talking.
Fitch didn’t look particularly refreshed after his break. There were shadows beneath his eyes as though he hadn’t slept for days and Gerry hoped that tiredness would lead to him making mistakes. He sat down opposite and when his chair legs scraped on the floor Fitch winced as though the noise hurt his ears.
‘Right then, Jason, let’s start again, shall we,’ said Gerry.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ Fitch glanced at his solicitor, who gave him a barely perceptible nod. ‘My brother-in-law Kyle. He’d do anything for Sharon so if she got it into her head she wanted to put a stop to me and Andrea… And he’s ex-army so he’d know how to get hold of a weapon – and how to use it.’
‘No love lost between you and your brother-in-law then?’
A smirk appeared on Fitch’s face. ‘No comment. You’ve tested my rifle, have you?’
Gerry had been wondering how long it would be before that subject came up. ‘Yes. It’s not the murder weapon.’
‘I could have told you that. It’s just a bloody toy. Can I go now?’
‘When’s your brother-in-law due back from Spain?’
‘Monday. He’s flying into Bristol. Maybe you should be there to pick him up.’
Gerry didn’t like being told what to do by suspects but on this occasion he had to agree with him. Kyle Ball had to be brought in, and after a week relaxing in the sun, he hoped he’d be off his guard.
24
By the time Wesley arrived home Pam had already called the garage and he was greeted by the sight of a man in blue overalls, not unlike a crime-scene suit only much grubbier, changing the tyres. The man looked up as he approached.
‘This is bad, mate,’ he said with what sounded like genuine concern. ‘Your missus is right upset.’ He looked Wesley up and down. ‘You annoyed someone, have you?’
‘I’m a police officer so I’m always annoying someone,’ Wesley replied.
The man said nothing and returned to his work.
When he opened the door Pam rushed out to greet him and he flung his arms around her, holding her close.
‘You must have some idea who did this,’ she said, extricating herself from his embrace. ‘It must be someone you’ve arrested sending some sort of twisted message.’
Wesley had already gone through a mental list of all the villains he’d dealt with over the past few years but none seemed to fit the bill. ‘I’ve had threats – it goes with the territory – but there’s been nothing recently.’
‘Do you think those phone calls are connected? The caller always withholds their number.’
‘So do dodgy call centres and banking scams. But I’ll get someone to look into it. Where are the kids?’ he asked, experiencing a sudden flutter of panic.
‘They’re staying at their friends’ a bit longer. I didn’t want them to see the car like that. They’re being brought back later.’
He looked at his watch.
‘Have you got to go?’ she said, clearly hoping the answer would be no.
