Scamper's Find

by Terry H. Watson

  CHAPTER 13

  From 3,000 miles away in Scotland, Superintendent Harvey organised his squad in Chicago to interview some other possible suspects and hand-picked various team members for the job, people he trusted to carry out the task that he himself would have preferred to do.

  Ross S. Witherspoon was next to be interviewed. He was at first reluctant to be questioned until told of the deaths of the two men who caused his daughter’s tragic end. This altered his attitude. He agreed to speak with the detectives. He had aged considerably, no longer having the suave, confident appearance of the aspiring politician of a few years ago. His bearing was that of a broken man. His once chic hairstyle was grey and matted. He was unshaven and looked as if sleep had evaded him for many months. His clothes hung on him, emphasising a considerable weight loss. The detectives were shown to a darkened library where they met with the subdued man, the darkness only serving to highlight the blackness in his soul.

  “I have so many regrets. I wish I’d known I had a daughter and been part of her life. She seems to have been an amazing kid. I never knew about her birth,” he lied. “That woman, Brenda Mears, her mom, kept it from me. Hey, given the chance, I could have been a terrific dad and my boys would have loved having a sister. How could that woman conceal her from me? My Lucy didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  He rambled on, blaming everyone but himself for his change of fortune. His voice trailed off as he struggled with emotions and memories of the night he discovered he had fathered the missing Lucy Mears; the night when that revelation made in public by a news reporter put paid to his dream of a political life which would probably have taken him to the White House and the power he craved.

  “I hope those responsible will burn in hell.”

  “Do you know anything about how they met their end, sir, or who would want them dead?” asked a detective with a sharp intake of breath, fearing an outburst of rage. “After all, you lost your political future because of them.”

  “Hey, I do not! But I’d sure like to shake the hand of whoever managed to rid us of that vermin. I only knew they had been traced when one of your detectives called to arrange this interview.”

  Despite his loathing, it was obvious he had no knowledge of the grisly deaths of the men found in two Scottish mine shafts thousands of miles from the scene of his daughter’s death. The detectives left him in his dark world, a world where light would never fully shine again on his tortured soul.

  ***

  Two other detectives interviewed his wife, Linda-Mae, separately. She, too, could shed no light on the Scottish deaths.

  “We’ve suffered so much from all this, so much, Detectives, that life for us will never be the same. My parents struggled to accept Ross back into their lives.

  “He and my father had a good relationship before all this, but now, well, my father is so bitter he can hardly stay in the same room as him. He and my mom tolerate him for my sake and for the boys’. The kids, thank God, were too young to understand the scandal surrounding their father, but now as they get older they are asking questions. I had to give up the job I loved in kindergarten and move from the area, as the gossip would have been unbearable. This scandal will never leave us. Ross can never return to politics. He’s like a lost soul. He knows nothing else but politics.

  “He watches hours of political debates, some current and many from past years. He’s attempting to write a political book to keep himself busy. It’s heartbreaking to see him so devastated. He spends hours in his depressing library. I have to admit that, at first, I was ashamed that he had fathered and neglected a daughter. He has to live with that guilt for the rest of his days. We go from day to day, hoping that some time in the future we shall all find peace. I don’t mind telling you, our marriage was hanging by a thread. If it wasn’t for our kids I’d have walked away from Ross. The kids had to endure bullying at school for a time, but things have settled down and they get on with their lives. My boys are strong characters and can stand up for themselves. I’m relieved really that we have been spared life in a goldfish bowl if Ross had ever been the incumbent of the White House. The nightmare we have lived through these past years has shown me that life there would have been too restrictive. I value freedom to bring up my sons. I guess we’ll never know what kind of president my husband would have made. Detectives, I can’t say I’m sad about the deaths of those two guys who caused Lucy’s horrific death, but I assure you neither Ross nor I were remotely involved.”

  ***

  Superintendent Harvey was reluctant to sanction re-interviewing Lucy’s best friend Abigail and her mother Gina.

  “Those two have been through the mill over this. Abigail was in a bad place when Lucy died. Counselling helped, but the kid will never fully recover from the trauma. Her mom has been her rock. We will not gain anything by putting these people through more interviews and having them relive the entire scenario yet again. No. I’m adamant about this; leave these people out of our enquiries.”

  Carole Carr opened her mouth to protest, but knowing her boss as she did, thought the better of it, trusting his judgement even if it wasn’t the road she herself would have taken.

  ***

  Brenda’s executive team was interviewed separately. It was obvious that none of them had any dealings with the villains who caused so much heartache to so many people. Justin Palmer, the firm’s graphic designer, appeared nervous when interviewed, but the astute detective dealing with him appreciated that the man’s demeanour was more from grief than from guilt.

  “We can never forget poor Lucy,” he told the detective. “This interview is bringing it all back. I’m not a violent man, but I’m sure glad to hear those bad guys will never harm anyone again. It’s been so hard for us all, these past four years. Brenda is suffering so much. We try to keep Mears Empire on track as best we can and only hope that some day our boss will take the helm once more.”

  His partner, Bob Lees, the firm’s shipping agent, had similar feelings about the criminals. Dressed in a red linen suit, he cut a fine figure as he entered the office to take part yet again, in questions about young Lucy.

  “They seem to have had a gruesome death from what I’ve been told and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, but they were evil to take poor Lucy from us. I’m not sorry they have gone to face their Maker. It won’t do anything to bring sweet Lucy back, but it might bring some consolation to her poor mom.”

  ***

  Myra Hill, in charge of finance, had taken on more of the running of Mears Empire with the blessing of her employer. Rushing out to a business meeting she was enraged when detectives arrived early at her office to talk with her.

  “I had hoped you would have the courtesy of keeping to the appointed time which is not for another hour. I’m already late for an important meeting.”

  “Our apologies; we had finished sooner than expected with the other executive staff, and thought we could speak with you and save a return visit, but if you prefer, we’ll return later.”

  “Oh, then let me make a quick call.”

  She still maintained an impenetrable front for the world, gave nothing away and only revealed her innermost thoughts when asked about the deaths of Lucy’s killers.

  “In my opinion, they seem to have been taken care of and got what they deserved. The world is free of those two lowlifes. I’ll shed no tears for them. Brenda’s life has been destroyed. She’s heartbroken and nothing anyone can do will help her grief. I fear that she will never totally recover from the devastation of watching her only child die in that plane crash. None of us will really recover. We carry on as best we can here but the spark of enthusiasm has dimmed for all of us at Mears Empire.”

  The Scotts, Ron, and Olivia, like their colleagues, showed no compassion at the demise of the rogues who ended Lucy’s life in such a cruel manner. They too had no knowledge of the Scottish deaths and, lik
e everyone else involved in the case, wondered how the two villains had got to Scotland.

  “It seems strange to us, Detective, how those two escaped justice for so long and ended up on foreign soil. I hope the answer will be found soon. How curious!”

  ***

  Harvey’s team in Chicago reported to their superior that they were satisfied that all recent interviewees had no part in the Scottish crime.

  “No one seemed unduly sympathetic, sir, about the death of those villains. Most commented that the world would now be a safer place without them.”

  Lucy’s music tutor, the eccentric Ken Farmer was dismissed from enquiries after a brief visit from officers.

  “The poor man hasn’t the strength to lift a pencil, let alone plan a murder.”

  ***

  “We have to look elsewhere,” said Harvey to the assembled team in Scotland. “Who would want those guys dead? Come on folks, think! It’s one thing saying no one cares about their end but a serious crime has been committed and we have a duty to solve it to the best of our ability. I for one would be glad to see it done and dusted.”

  Carole, unable to sleep, called her husband and kids for a long chat, assuring them that she would find the bad guy and be home soon. Sleep evaded her. Her body clock had not adjusted to the six-hour difference in time zone. She deliberated over past events, on the players involved in Lucy’s life; on everyone she could recall who featured in this most horrific of crimes. Her eyes felt heavy. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she sat bolt upright.

  Aha! There is someone we’ve omitted. Damn, it’s too late to call Tony. He’ll be snoring by now.

  Tony, however, was not asleep. He paced the room, his over-active mind keeping him wide awake as did the difference in time to which his body had not yet adjusted.

  There’s more to this crime… hell of a lot more…

  CHAPTER 14

  Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Carole joined an equally tired-looking Tony at breakfast.

  “Hey, Tony! We forgot the very person who might know more about Lucy’s death… Rita Hampton! How could we forget that vile woman?”

  “Carole, you’re a star. I forgot about her, probably because she’s safely tucked up in prison.”

  Tony Harvey, weary from constant transatlantic calls to organise re-interviewing people he thought he would never have to encounter again, and longing to be home, briefed the joint squad on the involvement and trial of Rita Hampton.

  “Cops detained her after Anna Leci’s funeral in New York. The hearse was pulling out of Anna’s outlandish estate when detectives arrived to question the owner, not knowing then that she had died. Sadly, my guys had only just discovered who had arranged the abduction. It is one of the biggest regrets of my career that information came too late for us to save Lucy. Anna Leci’s funeral was allowed to proceed and detectives remained in attendance. They detained Rita Hampton immediately after the service. She was Anna’s private nurse and was aware of the devious abduction plan devised by her employer. She knew the power Anna had over the others. Anna Leci was mega-rich. She shamelessly exploited people for her own selfish ends. Rita Hampton knew every minute detail of Lucy’s abduction, which she could have brought to an end with one phone call to the authorities. I don’t buy it that she was afraid of her employer as she maintained in her defence. Anna Leci was dying; she no longer had energy to have a hold over anyone. Rita Hampton feared that her life of luxury within Anna’s palatial home would come to an end and she would have to seek employment elsewhere. She is now serving a long sentence in a correctional facility. It’s a maximum-security prison for women. I’ll interview her personally when I get back home. I can arrange with my opposite number in New York to set up a meeting. She knows more than she has ever told anyone, but I’m sure as hell going to get to the truth of the abduction plot. This case, and now the deaths of the two roughnecks, has coloured my life for many years. I sure as hell won’t rest until the loose ends are tied up.”

  Tony Harvey, as if to emphasis his commitment, thumped the table with a clenched fist. He thumped it as if to reinforce the point. Carole, knowing her boss’s every mood, knew he was frustrated at their inability to solve the mystery of the deaths in Scotland of their two most wanted criminals, and feared that tiredness would cloud his judgement and arouse his simmering temper.

  ***

  Over a farewell drink and final meeting they all agreed that coming together had been a productive exercise. Although the Scottish deaths were still unsolved, important steps had been taken to eliminate some suspects. Harvey felt his time with his Police Scotland colleagues had benefited both teams.

  “It was good to get the feel of the crime areas,” concluded Carole, “and to see how you guys function. I hope we can resolve the mystery of how those two ended up over here. We’ll certainly be in touch with any development, especially when Tony speaks with Rita Hampton, and we won’t stop until we find their killers, no matter how long it takes. Despite their horrific crimes back home, and whatever thoughts we have about them, we are professional cops and our duty is to bring to justice the perpetrators of the deaths of Alfred Wysoki and Barclay Ellis-Jones.”

  Harvey and his team took leave of their Scottish peers and headed back to Chicago, satisfied that all that could have been done at that time, had been investigated and that friendships had been forged among like-minded people.

  “What lovely people,” said Carole as they settled down to the long flight home, “and what spectacular scenery! Someday, I’m going to bring Ted and the kids to Scotland. It’s awesome.”

  She realised she was talking to herself. Her boss had fallen asleep as soon as the aircraft had taken off.

  ***

  Sitting in her drab prison cell, longing for sunshine and freedom, Rita Hampton lifted her head from the book she was struggling to read, turned her face towards the slanting window at the top of her cell, imagining the warmth of sunshine beaming down on her like gentle rays sent to comfort her broken spirit, but facing the reality that no sun ever reached that part of the building. A warden, whom she disliked intensely, hollered at her, disturbing her reverie.

  “Get moving, Hampton. You have a visitor. Don’t get too excited. It’s a cop. Nice looking guy, but, hey, we all know you prefer the gals, don’t we, sweetie?”

  Rita had long-time learnt not to retaliate and it took every ounce of her willpower not to react as she was prodded along to the interview room.

  Tony Harvey wasted no time in setting to interview Rita Hampton. He was taken aback by the change in the woman he first encountered after the events four years ago. Her incarceration had taken its toll; her hair was lank and unkempt and without make-up she had taken on a ghostly look like a lost spirit wandering aimlessly through time and space seeking solace and peace where none could be found. Her general appearance was that of a troubled woman who had given up on a life with no future. The calamitous plane crash so soon after Anna’s death shocked her to the core. She found it difficult to come to terms with the death of so many people she had known. Her thoughts often dwelt on those dreadful days. She lived in an isolated unit, as her earlier days in jail had been perilous. Fellow inmates treated her roughly for her involvement in the death of young Lucy Mears, a story avidly followed by them.

  “Scum, you could have saved the kid,” was a constant comment.

  Superintendent Harvey, in agreement with the prison administrator, offered the inmate improved conditions if she provided information to help trace the killers of Barclay Ellis-Jones and Alfred Wysoki.

  “We can’t reduce your length of sentence, but we’ll see you have a few more home comforts and privileges. Tell me, Rita, all you can recall of events at Anna Leci’s home, her power over everyone and your own involvement in the tragic death of so many.” He kept his eyes firmly on the inmate as he spoke.

  Harvey recorded the int
erview.

  Rita spoke of how she had met Anna in a Chicago hospital when the latter was receiving treatment for cancer and she herself was a nurse there.

  “It was the worst day of my life, sir, when Anna caught me stealing drugs for my sick father. Our insurance didn’t cover the expensive drugs that were keeping him alive. I was desperate. The drugs he needed were there in the hospital, right in front of me. It was so tempting, so easy. From then on she had such a hold over me. I was terrified she would report me to the authorities. I would have lost my job and been jailed. What would happen to my sick father then? How could he cope with his daughter’s incarceration at a time when he had most need? I was all he had. I was in a no-win situation.”

  She went on to relate how, after her father’s death, she went to work for, and nurse Anna Leci, an agreement they had come to that fateful day in the hospital.

  “I didn’t realise how rich she was, how ruthless and scheming one person could possibly be to have total control over the lives of others. They say money talks; well, in my experience it made those of us caught up with her totally silent for fear of reprisals. Her staff was loyal. I never knew what hold she had over the many domestic staff who ran the house, but I reckon there was something in each of their lives that she was aware of. My duties mostly restricted me to her suite of rooms and I rarely saw the housekeeping staff. I had never seen such richness. My own rooms were beyond anything I had ever dreamt of, not that I got to spend my time there; Anna was a demanding boss.”

  “Tell me now about Barclay Ellis-Jones,” prodded Harvey.

  Rita paused to compose herself, and continued, “Anna was particularly close to Barclay Ellis-Jones, as he was known then. She’d met him initially at Simon Mears’ funeral several years ago when he was employed at Mears Empire. It appears he was a trusted employee, at first that was. Seems he had his finger in the till, so to speak. He was taking money from the firm in small amounts so as not to be noticed, and poor trusting Simon Mears, Brenda’s father, was totally unaware of the fraudster in his midst. He trusted the guy. He was such a smooth-talking dude. It looked like Anna and Barclay hit it off and met up again by chance at Lucy’s concert in Chicago where I reckon they came up with the abduction plan. Sir, that kid sure had musical talent! What a loss! I heard her play in Anna’s house. It was awesome. She played piano with such ease, then the cello. It was almost as if she was part of the instruments; so angelic, so sweet.