by M A Comley
“About the last six months, give or take a few weeks. We don’t do any harm, lady, except to the rabbits. The farmers will tell you we’re supplying a valuable service.”
“I’m presuming guns are involved?”
“Yep. Hey, I know where this is going…Jack’s the one with the licence, not me. I only shoot his guns when I’m in his company. I know how to stay on the right side of the law.”
“Glad to hear it. Okay, I have a favour to ask.”
“Shoot!”
“Would you allow us to have your shoes for DNA testing?”
“Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
“I’m not saying that. If you hand your shoes over and the results came back as expected, then that would ensure you were knocked off our suspect list. Will you help us out?”
“Sure. If that’s what it will take to get you off my back. All I’m guilty of is killing a few bunnies. I would never, I could never, take a person’s life.”
“I appreciate your cooperation in this matter.”
Carla withdrew a plastic evidence bag from her pocket. Andy kicked off his shoes, picked them up and handed them to her.
“They might smell a bit rich,” he apologised, laughing.
Carla made a face and dropped the trainers into the bag and sealed it.
“What size are you?” Sara asked.
“Ten.”
“Constable, can you ask the desk sergeant if he has any size ten shoes going spare for me?”
“Right away, ma’am.” The constable rushed out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“I’m sorry we dragged you in here, Mr Somers. I’m sure you can appreciate our situation in the circumstances.”
“Hey, it was an easy mistake to make.”
“While you’re here, maybe you can tell me if you’ve either heard or seen anything suspicious lately to do with these crimes? Perhaps overheard someone talking down the pub this week?” She realised it was a long shot but knew it would be wrong of her to let him go without asking.
“I hear a lot of talk when I’m down the pub. What I haven’t heard is someone openly saying they’ve murdered another person, let alone five people. Not surprising, right? When was the last time you overheard someone saying anything along those lines?”
“Point taken. I just thought I’d ask.”
The door opened, and the constable walked back in the room carrying a pair of old-style plimsolls. He handed them to Somers, who stared at the shoes in disgust. “Hardly a fair exchange. I can’t believe people would be seen dead in these.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“No worries. Maybe one of you could drop me back home? I’d rather that than be seen down the pub in these.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. Thank you for assisting us with our enquiries. You’re free to go now. We’ll get your shoes back to you as soon as possible, I promise.”
“No problem. Always keen to help the police with their enquiries if the end result means I clear my name.”
The four of them left the room. Sara led the way back up the corridor. She stopped off to have a brief chat with the desk sergeant to arrange the promised lift for Somers, said farewell to him and then followed Carla up the stairs to the incident room.
After a trip to visit the vending machine, Sara perched herself on the desk closest to Carla. “He seemed genuine enough. Of course, I’ve come across his type before. Does his best to cover his tracks with a bit of added charm.”
“I don’t know. I have to say I believe him. It would be daft to spend too much time seeing if his alibi checks out.”
“I agree. Will you ring his mate for me, and we’ll leave it at that? I’ll send the shoes off to forensics just in case—rather that than end up with egg on my face.” Sara launched herself off the desk and circulated the room to see how the other members of her team were doing with the tasks she’d handed out.
Christine and Scott were in the process of sifting through the calls they had received.
“Anything useful?” she asked.
Christine shook her head. “The usual names cropping up when a major crime is aired, ma’am. Nothing more than that springing to mind at present.”
“That’s disappointing. I thought we’d at least get a sighting or something along those lines.”
“Maybe the right people missed the appeal, boss,” Scott suggested.
“You’re probably right. I’ll get on to the media, make sure they run the appeal, or at least a section of it, again.” She moved round the room to Will and Marissa. “Any good on the house-to-house enquiries at the Haldons’, guys?”
Marissa flipped open her notebook. “We took down the statement of the neighbour who reported the crime. He didn’t see anyone lingering around outside the property. Unfortunately, his lounge is at the rear of the house, which accounts for why he only saw the Haldons’ front door open when he was putting his rubbish out.”
“That’s a shame. What about the other neighbours?”
“Nothing, boss. Not a scream or a shout heard by any of them,” Will said, shrugging.
“I’m not surprised about that, considering they were both discovered with tape wrapped around their mouths. That reminds me, I need to chase up how Mr Haldon is doing in hospital.”
“Do you want me to ring the hospital, boss?” Marissa offered.
“Thanks. Let me know as soon as you find out.” She moved on to the final pairing of Barry and Jill. “Please tell me you’ve found a connection between the families?”
“Only that they attended the same church, boss,” Jill replied.
“Is that the connection? It seems odd to me. If the killer met them at the church, would he then go on to kill, or attempt to kill, in Laurence Haldon’s case? It’s a perplexing one, for sure. We could do with something significant coming our way soon before the damn killer strikes again.”
“Would it be worth putting on extra patrols in the evening around these villages, boss?” Barry said.
“I actioned that after the first murder took place. I’ll ensure the desk sergeant is still sending the patrols out there. Sod the funding for once, we have a killer on the loose who we need to apprehend ASAP. I think that out-trumps any funding restrictions we have in place at the moment. Keep digging, guys. Let me know if anything else crops up.”
Thankfully, that night, there were no more murders to report. The following day was spent going over things until the repetitiveness of the conversations became borderline boring with nothing of significance emerging at all. It had been a long week; some days had meant Sara had spent almost twenty hours at work. She was looking forward to putting her feet up over the weekend.
Chapter 19
At exactly eleven a.m. on the Friday morning, Mick and his team of heavies arrived on his doorstep. He opened the door and backed up into the lounge, allowing them access into his small rented home.
Mick eyed him cautiously. “Well? Have you got my money?”
He smiled, nodded and crossed the room to the TV cabinet in the corner. Opening the drawer, he removed a plastic carrier bag and held it out to Mick.
Mick snapped his fingers, indicating one of his henchmen to take the bag. The goon snatched it from his hand and tipped the contents out onto the floor and proceeded to count every bundle. A tense silence descended. The goon eventually glanced up at his boss and nodded.
“Looks like it’s all here.”
Mick inclined his head to one side. He seemed stunned by the announcement. “How? A few days ago you barely had two pennies to rub together, and now you’re paying off the full twenty grand. How is that possible?”
“I have good friends who came to my aid when I most needed them,” he lied.
“If you expect me to believe that bullshit, you’ve got another think coming.”
“What does it matter? You’ve got your cash. Now you can call off your heavy mob and fuck off out of my life.”
Mick took a few steps
towards him. “You might want to curb that foul tongue of yours in my presence. I’ve got a proposition to put to you.”
“You have? What might that be?”
Mick stepped back and flopped onto the sofa. “You get me more of that money, and I’ll give you a cut of my business.”
He shook his head, resisting the temptation to laugh in the man’s face. “Nah. I got the money for you. That should be the end of it.”
Mick’s gaze narrowed. “You’re turning me down?”
He nodded. “I’m moving on soon. Had enough of this area. Need to find another patch where I can put down roots again. Too many memories around here that I’d rather forget, man.”
“Sounds like you’re running away. From me, for instance.”
“I’m not. I’m done with all of this shit. Mick, I’ve paid you your dough. To me, that’s the end of it.”
Mick rose from the sofa and walked to within a few inches of him. “The thing is, it’s up to me what you do next, not you. Yes, you’ve paid off your debt, but scum like you will always need a backup plan for when your pockets run dry again. Correct?”
“No. I’ve told you. Things are going to change in the future. I just needed to catch a break to get things on the right track, that’s all.”
“And your friends came good at the last minute I’m being led to believe?”
He nodded. “That’s right. I’d rather pay them back than you; less interest to find that way.”
“Are you insulting me and the way I run my business, dickhead?”
“No, man. You’re entitled to run your business how you see fit. All I’m saying is that I’m done with this way of life. I’m getting my act together in another area where my face isn’t known.”
“You’re running away. Why? Tell me how you got hold of this money in such a short period of time. I want in.”
“Believe me when I tell you, you wouldn’t want to be part of it, I promise you.”
“Did you bump someone off?”
He swallowed hard, immediately giving himself away.
“What? So you’re telling me this is blood money?”
“Whatever, man. You’ve got your money, just be thankful about that.”
“I’ve had it with you. You make me sick with your holier-than-thou attitude. You’ve robbed people of their lives and seem so blasé about it. My boys are going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry, you despicable dirtbag.”
“Why? You’ve got no right to do this. I paid what I owed, and that should be the end of it, Mick. Don’t do this, I’m begging you.”
Mick smiled, picked up the carrier bag and left the house, leaving behind his two goons who quickly set about him, striking him with powerful hard blows to his stomach and face until everything went black.
Chapter 20
Saturday consisted of a leisurely lie-in with Misty stretched out on the bed by her side, a light lunch sitting in the garden with the sun’s rays warming her face, followed by a run along the country lanes around the village. She regretted not taking the plunge to take her run before she’d considered filling herself up with lunch. Idiot! Indigestion kept her glued to the couch the rest of the day while she caught up on a few of her favourite series she had recorded during the week.
Her mobile rang while she was in the middle of a new episode of The Great British Bake Off. The caller ID on her mobile flagged up that it was her mother-in-law, Charlotte, calling. She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Hi, Charlotte. How are things?”
“Hello, dear. Thought I’d better check in with you as you hadn’t bothered to contact us in a while.”
“Sorry. I meant to ring you last week, but things got on top of me at work.”
“No doubt about that, dear, but one must always make time for family. You know I always regard you as family, even though Philip is sadly no longer with us.”
“I know, Charlotte. Honestly, you really don’t want to know the hours I’ve put in at work this week.”
She sniffled. “I saw you on TV doing that appeal. Those poor families. Has it been hard for you coping with these crimes?”
“I can’t lie, it hasn’t been easy. I miss Philip every minute of every day still, I always will.”
“I appreciate that, dear. That’s why it would be nice to see you. Jonathon doesn’t understand my need to keep Philip’s memory alive—it must be a man thing—but you understand, don’t you?”
Sara placed her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and sighed heavily as her emotions churned. She gulped down the lump that had formed in her throat and dropped her hand. “I understand the need not to forget, I also think there comes a time when we need to move on, Charlotte. It’s not doing either of us any good dwelling on what might have been. I was there at the end, and there was nothing anyone could have done to save him. I tried—boy, did I try.”
Charlotte was silent for a few moments. It sounded as though her mother-in-law blew her nose a couple of times. “It’s so hard for me to contemplate that I’ll never see him again. Why can’t my husband feel the same way I do? Why? He says the same as you, that we need to move on, but I can’t do it. I loved Philip with every beat of my heart.”
“Everyone knows how different a mother’s love is to other members of a family. Charlotte, Jonathon loved Philip as much as you did, it’s just different. Men show their feelings differently to us women, but it doesn’t mean that he cares any less than we do.”
“I need to talk about my grief, and he refuses to listen. That’s why I’d like you to come for a visit, so we can reminisce together. To keep his memory from vanishing into oblivion.”
“It won’t. You’re surrounded by his pictures throughout your home. He’s with you there, in your mind and in your heart. That will never change, Charlotte. Honestly, once this case is over, I’ll do my very best to come and see you, I promise.”
She sniffled again. “Okay, I’ll have to take your word on that. I’ll leave you to enjoy your weekend.”
Sara winced at the dig. She felt the need to retaliate. “Hardly enjoying myself. I’m doing the chores that I neglect to do all week. I’ll be in touch when things quieten down a little. Take care, Charlotte.”
“I’ll hold you to that. I’ve found a nice little restaurant in Cheltenham whilst I was out with the girls the other day. Maybe we’ll go there for a treat, yes?”
“Sounds wonderful. I’ll be in touch soon. Thanks for ringing.” Sara hung up and exhaled a large breath. She felt guilty for fobbing off her mother-in-law the way she had, but there was a world of difference between them. Charlotte had always been a lady who lunches, never worked a day in her life since she’d married Jonathon almost forty years ago. She was a lovely lady who was somewhat overpowering and could only be tolerated in small doses. Philip had felt the same way about his mother when he’d been alive, which was why he’d preferred to live over a hundred miles away from his childhood home. Her mother-in-law’s call stirred up old memories she had, up until now, stored away. They had spent the first Christmas of their married life with his mother and father, and Philip had been on tenterhooks the whole time. The truth was, his mother had neglected to treat them both as adults with minds of their own. Sara had analysed that Christmas and had come to the conclusion that Philip was a different person when he was around his mother. It was as if she smothered him by loving him too much, if that was at all possible.
She reflected what life was with her own parents. They were the total opposite to the way Charlotte treated her. They were proud parents, there was no denying that; however, they had always stepped back and allowed Sara to make her own decisions in life, never interfered at all. She had turned to her parents when Philip had died, and they had given her plenty of compassion but had also given her the space she had needed to grieve properly. Unlike Charlotte. Right after Philip’s death, and up until his cremation, her mother-in-law had rung her every single day, openly crying on the phone, causing Sara to cry with her. Thinking back, Sara now
understood this was the reason her life had stagnated for months. It wasn’t until her parents put the idea to her that it would be better for her if she left Liverpool and moved closer to home that she’d even contemplated the notion. Although in moving nearer to her parents, she’d also unwittingly moved closer to Philip’s parents in the process.
She couldn’t help wondering if that might come back to haunt her one day. There was also the issue that Donald had started sniffing around, too. She liked him; however, if ever things developed between them, she would always have a nagging doubt whether she was with him because he was simply Philip’s brother and if she was possibly trying to cling on to a past she was having trouble forgetting.
There was no way she could ever get involved with Donald. What on earth would Charlotte say for a start?
She poured herself a glass of wine and snuggled up with Misty. No, she was happy being alone, for now, in her new home, with her wonderful parents only a phone call away and a dedicated team at work who often made her look good to her superiors. What more could she want in this life? Tears blurred her vision. Philip by her side, that’s what. A truly exceptional man who could never be replaced. She wondered how other widows got on with their lives. How long it took them to get over their husband’s death. The truth was, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever really want to get over losing her soulmate.
Chapter 21
The following day, Sara went for a longer run around the village that took her down the public footpaths through a few of the local farmers’ fields. She felt invigorated by the end of her run when she showered the sweat from her glowing skin. Sara dried her hair and applied minimal makeup then slipped a summer dress over her head Philip had loved. After feeding Misty and hugging her tight, she left the house and drove to her parents’ house for lunch as planned.
“Hello, darling. You look lovely. Any reason you made a special effort today?” her mother asked, basting the chicken.
