by Alex Pine
He started to cry then, great wracking sobs that shook his entire body.
Father Silver put an arm around Drake’s shoulders and DC Abbott got up, took a tissue from her pocket, and handed it to him.
But James remained seated, his mind whirring from what Drake had said about Giles Keegan.
Had the man really told Lorna Manning that there were people in the village who should be locked up and that he was sick of seeing criminals escape justice?
In themselves the remarks didn’t amount to much and could not be taken as evidence that Giles Keegan was a murdering psycho. But in the context of what was going on in Kirkby Abbey, they did suggest to James that he needed to have another word with the ex-police officer.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
It turned out that Chris Drake had driven the three hundred miles to Kirkby Abbey from his home in Southend. He planned to stay over and had reserved a room at The King’s Head.
‘I didn’t know how long I would have to be here,’ he said, after he’d stopped crying and had regained his composure. ‘So, I’m booked in for two nights to start.’
‘Okay, Would you mind going along to the village hall to make a statement about the last conversation you had with your mother?’ James asked.
‘Of course,’ Drake said.
‘Great. The team will sort out the arrangements for you to formally identify her body and update you on the situation regarding her house and belongings,’ he said.
It was agreed that Drake would come back and talk to Father Silver tomorrow about funeral arrangements. James then asked DC Abbott to take him to the hall in the patrol car.
‘And stay there until you hear from me,’ he told her. ‘I need to have a few words with Father Silver before I leave here. Then I’ll either walk to the hall or ask you to meet me somewhere.’
As soon as Abbott and Drake had left the office, Father Silver closed the door behind them and said, ‘I wasn’t aware that Lorna and Giles Keegan had been seeing each other. How long had it been going on?’
‘Days rather than weeks,’ James said. ‘He seemed genuinely upset when I spoke to him.’
‘Does he know about Lorna’s confession?’
‘I don’t believe so. But he was aware that she appeared to suffer from bouts of depression.’ He went on to describe how Keegan had spotted Lorna sitting next to the stream while crying.
Father Silver shook his head. ‘It’s just one shock after another. I still can’t imagine that Lorna would drive away from the scene of a terrible accident and not report it.’
‘People do such things all the time, Father.’
‘I know that, Detective Walker. Nevertheless, I’m hoping that you won’t have to make public what she did back then, for the sake of her son and those in the village who looked up to her.’
‘I’ll do my best to keep a lid on it,’ James said.
He then warned the priest that he might soon be approached by Gordon Carver.
‘He’s been made aware of the Christmas card that was left here at the church and the photo of Lorna that was placed on Nadia Patel’s grave,’ he said.
Father Silver was clearly puzzled. ‘I’m surprised you told a reporter about the cards.’
James shrugged. ‘I didn’t have a choice. The same Twelve Days of Christmas card we received was posted through his door last night. Inside was a message claiming that the police were withholding information. He was all set to publish it, but I persuaded him to hold off by giving him the full story and stressing how dangerous and disruptive it would be if it got out.’
Father Silver frowned. ‘But do you really believe he’ll keep it to himself?’
‘He assured me that he would, at least for the time being. We’ve agreed to have another conversation tomorrow.’
The priest mulled it over for a few seconds, then said, ‘Well, I suggest you treat whatever he tells you with extreme caution, Detective. I’ve known Mr Carver for some years, and I most certainly would not consider him the most trustworthy of individuals.’
After James left the church, he stopped on the pavement to check his to-do list. Thankfully, the snow had eased off and so had the wind. But fat feathery flakes were still dancing in the air like white-winged butterflies looking for somewhere to land.
His intention for today had been to re-interview three people – Sonia Jenkins, Janet Dyer and Bill Cardwell. But now he took out his pen and added Giles Keegan to the list. He would drop in on the retired copper at some point and tell him what Lorna’s son had said. His response would determine whether there was a need to take it further and interview him under caution.
Though James wanted DC Abbott with him when he spoke to Janet about the card she gave to Annie, he was quite happy to go and see Sonia Jenkins by himself. As the walk back to the village hall would take him past The White Hart he’d see if she was in.
As he set off, he sent a text to Annie asking her if she’d listened to the voice message he’d left about getting Bill to come over to the house. She replied immediately:
Just spoken to him. He’ll be here at six for dinner. And this time he’s promised not to forget.
James tapped out a reply:
That’s great, hon. It’ll give me plenty of time to talk to him xx
As James walked through the village, the silence pressed against his ears. The place was dead, like a ghost town, and despite its obvious charm, which was enhanced by the Christmas decorations, he could sense a dark malevolence lurking beneath the surface. It was surreal, like being on the set of a creepy movie where nothing is as it seems.
It was obvious that many of the villagers were now afraid to leave their homes. And he could hardly blame them. There was a killer in their midst and in all likelihood he would strike again.
It made James feel guilty. He needed to up his game, start making more progress. Almost fifty hours had passed since Charlie Jenkins was found dead in the field on Sunday morning. And Lorna’s Manning’s body was discovered on her kitchen floor around twenty-six hours ago. Yet James felt they were still flailing about in the dark. They had no firm leads, no highly credible suspects, and they faced the grim prospect of soon having to deal with another murder.
The killer was taunting them with his Christmas cards and messages, while moving around the village like the invisible man.
James suspected it was time to ask for more resources so they could cast the net wider. They could get officers to visit every home in the village and search all those where the owner or occupant aroused suspicion. There was only one road in and out of the village, so perhaps they should also get officers to check all cars entering and leaving. They could even impose a curfew prohibiting anyone from taking to the streets after dark.
These were extreme measures, and he wasn’t sure that Tanner and the people above him would support them, but right now, James was prepared to do whatever it took to catch the killer and stop the body count from rising still further.
It came as no surprise to James that The White Hart was still closed. He doubted that it would open in the foreseeable future.
He rang the front doorbell and had to wait for a full minute before Sonia Jenkins appeared. A grim smile flitted across her face when she saw him.
‘Have you come to tell me that you’ve arrested Charlie’s killer?’ she said.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t, Mrs Jenkins,’ he replied. ‘I’ve dropped by to see how you are and to ask you a couple more questions. May I come in?’
‘Of course.’
She was wearing a baggy green tracksuit, and her hair was swept away from her face into a ponytail.
He followed her through the bar and up the stairs to the flat.
When they reached the kitchen, he accepted her offer of a coffee and said, ‘Are you here by yourself?’
She nodded, flicking on the kettle. ‘I have been since yesterday when I told your family liaison officer that she didn’t need to stay any longer. My daughter Maddie is due to arrive at Heath
row from Dubai this afternoon. She’ll be coming straight here.’
‘How are you coping?’
‘It’s not easy, and it got harder after I heard about Lorna Manning. I gather you believe that whoever killed Charlie also killed her.’
James removed his coat and sat at the table.
‘It certainly looks that way,’ he said. ‘In fact, one of the questions I was going to ask you concerns Miss Manning.’
She turned to face him, resting her back against the worktop.
‘I suppose you’d like to know if she and Charlie were involved with each other in any way.’
‘Well, were they?’
‘I’m convinced they weren’t. And whenever Lorna came here to the pub to eat or drink, which wasn’t often, he didn’t seem particularly interested in her. I’m sure I would have noticed if he had.’
‘So did he ever talk about her to you?’
‘Not that I recall. And I can’t actually think of a single thing they had in common.’
Sonia poured the coffees and put both mugs on the table. She sat opposite James and he felt a rush of compassion for her. Charlie obviously hadn’t been the perfect husband, and had let her down, but it was clear that she had loved him, and now missed him.
‘Is there anything you need?’ he asked her. ‘We can help in any way, and if you’d like to speak to the liaison officer again you only have to give her a call.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘My bar staff have been really good and they’re here for most of the time. I’m hoping to open up again before Christmas. That’s what Charlie would have wanted.’
‘Have you spoken to many of your customers?’
‘A few have popped in and those who haven’t have sent me flowers and cards. I’m surprised at how many people have told me that Charlie was a great guy and that everyone will miss him. Their comments have helped. In fact, I’ve only received one nasty note in a Christmas card.’
‘Who was it from?’
‘No idea. It was put through the door some time yesterday. There was no name on it, but it’s obviously someone who didn’t like him.’
James felt his chest tighten. ‘What did you do with the card, Mrs Jenkins?’
‘I threw it away. Why?’
‘I would like to have seen it.’
‘Well, it’s still in the bin,’ she said.
‘Can you fish it out for me please?’
‘Don’t see why not. It’s downstairs.’
James went down with her and watched as she rummaged in the bin behind the bar. He wasn’t surprised when she pulled out a Twelve Days of Christmas card. Inside, in black marker, was a message:
Your husband was a cheat, Mrs Jenkins.
He deserved to die and you’re better off without him.
Merry Christmas.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
The village hall was still buzzing when James arrived back.
DC Abbott was deep in conversation with the two other detectives who had just arrived, and Lorna Manning’s son, Chris, was in the caretaker’s office with a uniformed officer who was taking down his statement.
James got everyone together for a brief update. He began by showing them the card that had been delivered to The White Hart for Charlie Jenkins’s grieving widow.
After reading out the message inside, James said, ‘No question, it’s from the killer. And once again the bastard makes the point that as far as he’s concerned, Charlie deserved to die. Five of these same cards have now turned up in the village and they’ve all been delivered by the killer himself.
‘We’ll send this to the forensic lab like the others but I doubt it will contain any prints or DNA. The problem we have is that these cards have been on sale in the village store and quite a few people have bought them,’ he said. ‘I saw a bunch of them in Keith Patel’s house. He’s the guy whose mother died a year ago after falling down the stairs in her home. The killer put Lorna’s photo on her grave. When I asked Patel about the cards, he told me he planned to send them out to friends and denied sending one to me. But he was seen close to my house when the parcel was left on my doorstep.
‘The same Christmas card was also handed to my wife yesterday by Janet Dyer, the woman who had an affair with Charlie Jenkins. The message in it wasn’t sinister and it hadn’t been written with a black marker. However, I still intend to go and ask her about it.’
He then pointed to one of the newly arrived detectives, DC Colin Patterson.
‘I’d like you to take some uniforms and go house-to-house again in Willow Road. When we first spoke to Lorna’s neighbours, they were all in a state of shock. Their heads will be clearer now so maybe they’ll recall something they forgot to mention on Sunday about Lorna herself.’
James was then told that Craig and Barbara Wilson had been spoken to and had confirmed that Peter King and his wife had attended their Christmas party on Saturday night.
They carried on discussing the case for another thirty minutes, during which a number of tasks were assigned, including obtaining a warrant to access the phone records and digital footprints of Giles Keegan and Keith Patel. Someone back in Kendal would also be instructed to go through the electoral roll for Kirkby Abbey and check to see if any of the residents on it sparked a red flag, perhaps because they had a criminal record.
Three of the patrol officers were told to take to the streets and to make themselves highly visible.
‘Engage with anyone who approaches you,’ James said. ‘And be suspicious of those who come on strong and ask a lot of detailed questions about what progress we’re making. It’s not uncommon for murderers, and especially serial killers, to try to solicit information about a case or even embed themselves in the investigation if they can.’
James then received a call from DS Stevens in Kendal off the back of the team briefing there.
‘I’ve got a few updates for you, guv,’ he said. ‘Detective Ackerman in Cornwall just got back to us. He’s confirmed that Andrew Sullivan was telling the truth about being down there for the past week. They’ve checked his accommodation and CCTV clips which show him at various locations in Newquay between Friday and Monday. Daniel Curtis’s alibi also checks out. He was definitely in Kendal on Saturday night when Charlie Jenkins was murdered.’
‘So those two come off the list of suspects,’ James said. ‘It doesn’t leave us with much.’
‘The news from the forensic lab won’t cheer you up either,’ Stevens said. ‘Nothing has shown up on any of the cards or items taken from the victims’ homes. And I’ve spoken to the pathologist who has now carried out both post-mortems. She confirms that there is no evidence to suggest that Charlie and Lorna struggled with their assailant. The stab wounds on both of them have the same characteristics. Penetration up to eight inches, which indicates an exceptionally long non-serrated blade. The blade is also wider and thicker than most kitchen knives. So it’s possible that some kind of fixed-blade fighting or hunting knife, such as a Bowie knife, was used.’
‘There are plenty of those around,’ James said. ‘These days every young villain seems to have one.’
He took down notes, and when the call ended, he passed on the information to the rest of the team. He then checked his watch and saw it was already 1 p.m.
He decided that it was time to go and ask Janet Dyer a few more questions. But just as he and DC Abbott were about to leave, one of the uniforms arrived with two carrier bags filled with sandwiches and other bits from the village store.
It put a smile on James’s face, and he told Abbott to get stuck in.
‘It might be the only chance we get to fill our bellies before dinner,’ he said.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
James hadn’t seen Janet Dyer since Sunday and her appearance had changed considerably. She wasn’t wearing make-up and looked at least five years older.
Her eyes were heavy and red from crying, and the skin of her face was greyer than he remembered.
When she opened the door
to them, she was holding a glass in one hand that was half-filled with red wine.
‘Is this about Annie and Daniel Curtis?’ she asked. ‘Because if it is, I’ve already told her that I’m sorry for what happened. I made a mistake.’
‘It has nothing to do with that,’ James said, noting the frown on DC Abbott’s face. ‘But we do need to talk to you.’
‘You’d better come in then,’ Janet said.
She turned, and as they followed her through the house it seemed pretty obvious to James that she’d had a fair amount to drink.
In the kitchen the first thing she did was top up her glass with more wine.
‘I would ask you to join me,’ she said. ‘But since you’re on duty I’m guessing you’d just say no.’
‘And you’re absolutely right, Miss Dyer,’ James said. ‘May we sit down?’
‘Please do. And if you’re wondering why I’m on the booze so early it’s because it’s helping me to get through another fucking horrendous day. I’ve rowed with my ex again over the kids and, like everyone else in the village, I’m shit scared that I’m about to be murdered.’
She swallowed some more wine, the drink staining her lips. Then she dropped onto the chair facing the two detectives.
‘I suppose you want to ask me more questions about my relationship with Charlie,’ she said, slurring her words slightly. ‘I can’t tell you any more than I already have. I honestly haven’t held anything back. If his wife – or rather, his widow – is saying anything different, then she’s bloody well lying.’
‘This has nothing to do with what you and Charlie got up to,’ James said. ‘We’re here to ask you about the Christmas card you gave to Annie.’
She squinted at him through one eye. ‘What on earth for? It’s a lovely card.’
‘Indeed, it is, Miss Dyer. But cards with exactly the same design have been delivered to homes in the village. And they’ve contained vile and threatening messages.’
Her eyes grew wide. ‘What has that got to do with me? You can’t possibly think that I was responsible.’
