The Needle House

by Robin Leslie Roughley

  Another piece of the puzzle slotted into place. 'That's when he told you about his part in Sam's disappearance?'

  Ronnie wiped a tear from his eye. 'Aye, he knew it would stop me from trying to find her, after all how could I look her in the face knowing it was my father who had a hand in killing her husband, knowing where he was buried?'

  'Jesus.'

  'So now you know.'

  'And you didn't see her again?'

  Ronnie flicked his eyes towards Lasser and grimaced. 'Once, about eight years later. I was in town, one of these young farmers' piss-ups. Of course, by then the farm was making plenty of cash, I'd married Susan's mother. You should have seen me, strutting around as if I owned the bloody place, a young farmer running a successful business; I thought I was really somebody,' he shook his head in disgust at the memory. 'I spotted her coming out of one of the boozers in town, she was with this bloke. I can see her now laughing, her head thrown back and all that dark hair falling down her shoulders.'

  'You didn't go over to her?'

  'I couldn't, you see by then she was a dark secret, I knew what had happened. I knew the only reason I was strutting around was because my old man had helped to commit a murder and been recompensed by Radfield. If that hadn't been the case we would still have been like all the other tenant farmers in the area, scratching around trying to make a living and paying all the profits to Radfield, instead we had the new tractors and all the latest gear.'

  'You weren't to know, Ronnie. It was your father that did the deal.'

  Ronnie shook his head. 'I appreciate that, son, but I should have done the right thing, not for me or Emma, I should have done it for Sam Wickham and I didn't, and it's haunted me ever since.'

  Lasser thought for a millisecond before dropping the bombshell. 'When I spoke to Susan a couple of days ago she told me she'd overheard you and her mother arguing about the child.'

  Ronnie's eyes shot open as if spring loaded. 'What!'

  'She remembers it well, she was fifteen and according to her you were both in the kitchen and her mother was going ballistic.'

  'I…'

  'You told me that after you split you only saw her once and you didn't speak to her. So why were you and your wife arguing about a child you said you knew nothing about?'

  Ronnie looked around the room in desperation, Lasser felt sure that if he were fit enough then he would have leaped out of bed and dashed for the door. 'How did you find out about James?' Another turn of the screw. 'Either you heard it from someone or Emma told you?'

  'It was Emma, OK, are you bloody satisfied!' he spat.

  Lasser felt his own anger flare. 'What are you talking about, this isn't about me, you're the one with all the secrets. It was your old man who helped to cover up a murder and you can try and justify it, but you kept your mouth shut because it suited you.'

  'Shut up!' Ronnie's face began to turn puce, his breathing rattled.

  'Then tell me, your granddaughter's out there somewhere,' he stabbed a finger towards the window. 'And you're more bothered about coming across as the injured party…'

  'You bastard, I love my Jenna do you think I wanted any of this to happen?'

  The machine in the corner began to beep loudly; Ronnie slumped back onto the pillow, closing his eyes, his bottom lip trembling.

  'Then help me, be honest and let's see where it takes us.'

  Ronnie took a huge, shuddering breath; the machine began to return to normal. 'The night I saw her in town, I followed her, when she reached the taxi rank the bloke she was with got into a cab.'

  'She didn't go with him?'

  'No, she started to walk along King Street, you know heading towards the train station.'

  Lasser nodded. 'Go on.'

  'I caught up with her,' he smiled sadly at the memory. 'She hadn't changed a bit.'

  'What did she say?'

  'She just threw her arms around me, can you imagine that, this woman who I'd never stopped thinking about, seemed happy to see me.'

  'Well that's good, isn't it?'

  'Oh aye, lad, it was the best moment of my life. Just for a few seconds I forgot all about Sam and my bloody father, it was just the two of us.'

  'So, what happened?'

  'We sat on the steps of Saint Mary's church and talked.'

  'It must have felt good seeing her after all those years.'

  Ronnie looked at him, his expression full of regret. 'Thing was, I was married by then.'

  'Life can be a bitch at times, Ronnie.' Lasser mused.

  'Aye, lad, it can.' Ronnie nodded, he either refused to hear the sarcasm or he was so lost in the memory that it went straight over his head.

  'And what did you talk about?'

  'I told her about my old man dying.'

  'Did you tell her you were married?'

  Ronnie shook his head. 'I'm not proud of the way I behaved.'

  Lasser sighed, he could see how tempting it would have been to keep the truth from her, here was the first woman he had ever loved suddenly turning up unexpectedly. Ronnie must have been devastated at the thought of losing her again.

  'So, you tried to make out you were still single.'

  'Pathetic isn't it, I mean, all I knew was that I couldn't stand to see her walk away from me, not again.'

  'And where was she living?'

  'She said she'd been staying at an old crofter's cottage up on Bank's moor.'

  'Is that local?'

  Ronnie smiled sadly. 'It's about three miles from the farm.'

  'And you never knew.'

  'Ironic isn't it, I always thought she'd moved miles away and yet here she was virtually on my doorstep.'

  'You started seeing her again?' Lasser asked although he already knew the answer.

  'Aye, she still had the boat, kept it at top lock, so a couple of days after we met I went up there. I tell you, lad, I knew it was wrong, I had a wife at home, a good woman but you see it should have always been me and Emma. I should have looked for her as soon as my old man died, no excuses, I should have done it.'

  'So, what went wrong?'

  'At first nothing, I'd tell my wife I was going to the village for a pint then I'd go up to the boat.' Ronnie looked shamefaced at the admission.

  'And how long did you carry on seeing one another?'

  'About six months and then one day I went up and the boat was gone.'

  'Gone?'

  'Aye, lad, I didn't know what to do.'

  'Had you had an argument?'

  'No, we loved one another, we didn't argue…'

  'But something must have happened?'

  He ignored the question. 'I used to go up to the canal at least twice a week; you know just to see if she'd come back.'

  'And did she?'

  Ronnie looked up at the ceiling. 'Aye, lad, she did, twelve months later. I went up there almost every day, it was like a habit I couldn't break. When I saw the boat, I thought I was bloody dreaming. She was standing on the towpath as if she'd been expecting me, she was holding a baby and I knew straight away…'

  'Your son?'

  'No doubt about it.'

  'That must have been a shock?'

  'You could say that, but you see the thing was she was completely different.'

  'In what way?'

  'It was as if everything had been an act, she told me straight out the lad was mine. Then she said to take a good look because I'd never see him again. She actually spat at my feet, I mean, I couldn't understand it, I tried to ask her what was going on and she just laughed in my face.'

  'Maybe it's because you'd let the grass grow beneath your feet, instead of going to look for her.'

  'Oh aye, it was that all right but there was more,' he paused and swallowed. 'She said she knew all about my family and what we'd done.' Ronnie's voice dropped to a whisper. 'I just stood there; I didn't know what to do, she knew bloody everything, about my old man, my marriage…'

  'How did she find out?'

  Ronnie looked up at the ceil
ing. 'Radfield told her.'

  Lasser stopped his mouth from falling open in surprise. 'Why would he have done something like that?'

  'He told her everything but with his own little twist on the truth. He admitted that Sam had come up to the house and that her husband had attacked him because of what had happened to her. But he said it was my old man who pulled the trigger…'

  'Hang on, Ronnie, what was she doing even discussing all this with him. I mean, he raped her for God's sake!'

  Ronnie's face bloomed with shame. 'Aye, lad, that's what I thought.'

  The heart monitor continued to beep, the overhead light flickered.

  Lasser felt another piece slot into place. 'It wasn't rape it was consensual and Sam found out what'd been going on between them and confronted Radfield.'

  'That's what she took great delight in telling me.'

  'So, when you were out looking for him she already knew he was dead?'

  'No, she didn't, she only found out later, but you see Radfield laid a lot of the guilt over what had happened on her shoulders. After all, she'd known what she was doing, so she had to share some of the blame. Plus, Sam Wickham hadn't been the perfect husband, according to her he used to get drunk and then take his frustrations out on her.'

  'What a bloody mess.' Lasser paused, 'and she wanted to get you up there just so she could tell you all this?'

  'She hated me with a vengeance because I hadn't had the guts to be honest with her.'

  To a certain extent, he could see where she was coming from, married to a man who knocked her about, then having Radfield fucking her simply because he could. Then young Ronnie, swearing his undying love and finding out he was married with a kid on the way and to ice the cake nicely, finding out that Ronnie knew all about the murder and had profited from it, while she was left to fend for herself with a young baby in tow. It was little wonder she was pissed off with the male species.

  'It was as if she blamed me for everything. I tried to explain about Radfield, but she wouldn't listen, she said he was ''sorry'' for what had happened. She told me he'd signed over the crofter's cottage to her as a peace offering, he…'

  'Wait, you're saying he bought her silence by giving her the cottage.'

  'Well, I suppose so, but she'd never have gone to the authorities because they wouldn't have believed her, you see to a certain extent she was implicated, she knew what had happened to Sam and said nowt.'

  Lasser stood up and grabbed his fleece from the floor. 'This cottage, Ronnie, could you tell me exactly how to get there.'

  Ronnie frowned. 'Aye, but no bugger's lived in it for donkey's years.'

  'How far away from the canal is this place?'

  He could see the old man thinking about the question. 'About three quarters of a mile.'

  Lasser wanted to get out of there, he could see himself already in the car hammering his way back towards the moors, the killer had a boat on the canal just as his mother had done, so maybe he was using the old house as a base, it made sense, it felt right.

  'So, you'd be able to see the canal from the house?'

  'Well aye, at least parts of it.'

  Lasser pulled out his pad and pen. 'Directions, Ronnie, quick as you can.'

  100

  Fossey sat in the passenger seat, listening as Lasser explained the situation to DCI Simms.

  'And you say the road that leads to the cottage is only fit for four-wheel drives?' His voice sounded thin through the small in-car speaker.

  'According to Ronnie,' he paused. 'Besides I think under the circumstances we should try and approach the area as quietly as possible.'

  'I'm not an idiot, Lasser.' This time Simms's voice boomed out of the hands free, the annoyance coming through loud and clear.

  'Of course not, sir.'

  'Right well, get your arse up to the woods, we can leave from there.'

  'I'm setting off now.'

  'And don't be all night about it.'

  The call ended abruptly, Lasser lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nose before starting the engine.

  'Are you sure you want me to come?' Fossey asked.

  'Positive,' he pulled off the car park and headed towards the ring road, at this time of night the roads were deserted apart from the odd milk float and bread wagon starting their early morning rounds.

  'So, Ronnie opened up about Emma Wickham?'

  'Eventually.'

  Fossey watched as the speedometer climbed up to eighty. 'You can understand his reluctance.'

  Lasser glanced sideways, the car twitched. 'It just seems a pity it took the abduction of his granddaughter before he decided to come clean.'

  'That's harsh; he spent forty years keeping this secret, basically to protect his family.'

  The lights on the ring road had been turned off, the council's way of trying to save money.

  'I'm not a complete bastard, I do realise it was hard for the old guy but don't try to tell me he did it just to avoid hurting…'

  'But imagine what this will do to his family.' Fossey interrupted. 'I hope to God we find Jenna, but what happens when all this is over?'

  'I'm sorry but that isn't my problem,' he pointed the car down the slip road and then headed into Hindley. 'That's your area of expertise.'

  'So, you haven't simply brought me along for the ride?'

  'You know the people involved…'

  'Come on, I only met them a week ago.'

  'Fair enough but it hasn't been your average week; I can guarantee that any friends of the Fotheringays will know less about the family than you do.'

  'OK, I can see where you're coming from, and…'

  'Good that's settled then.'

  Once clear of the town centre he put his foot down and Fossey decided it best to keep his mouth shut so Lasser could concentrate on the driving. When the car reached ninety he began to get nervous.

  Lasser flipped on the wipers when the first smattering of rain hit the windscreen.

  'You do realise that Susan blames Ronnie for what's happened?' Fossey said.

  'I can see it from all sides, I totally get why Ronnie kept his mouth shut and I'd probably have done the same myself. But all Susan sees is her daughter in the hands of a nutter who happens to be her half-brother, it's no wonder she's lost the plot.'

  Fossey gripped the armrest as Lasser rocketed around a long, left-hand bend.

  'Do you mind slowing down?'

  He eased off the gas and looked at Fossey with a quizzical expression. 'Why, what's the problem?'

  'Well, I'm sure your boss would rather you get there in one piece rather than having to arrange a tow truck to pull us out from the middle of the field.'

  Lasser grinned. 'Come on where's your sense of adventure?'

  'I think one maniac on the loose is more than enough, don't you?'

  Lasser laughed and shook his head.

  'So, what do you think Simms will want to do when, or should I say if, we get there?'

  'If he has any sense he'll make sure we have a tactical back-up squad to cover our arse and then just try and get to the place without making it too obvious.'

  'And does he have any sense?'

  'Yeah, he's one of the good guys, he won't take any unnecessary risks and he's too close to his pension to be gung-ho.'

  They sped under a tunnel of overhanging trees, Lasser flicked on the main beam, he could see the driving rain illuminated by the headlights, a few seconds later he slowed down and took a narrow cut off to the right.

  'And what do you want me to do?'

  'Let's just play it by ear, either Simms will give me a pat on the back for using my initiative, or he'll call me all the names under the sun and make you sit in the car like a naughty schoolboy.'

  The road straightened out, dissecting a huge reservoir. In the pale moonlight, the water appeared placid and black as pitch. As the road dipped the water vanished, hidden by the high stonewalls that ran down either side of the road, once they'd crossed the stretch of water th
e road turned tightly to the left and began to weave its way up the side of the hill. Trees overhung the right-hand side of the road, a black impenetrable mass that loomed over the ribbon of tarmac. To Fossey, it felt as if they were trying to force them towards the water. He could imagine the car rolling down the steep embankment bursting into a fiery ball of twisted metal before hitting the water and sinking to the bottom, trapped and screaming in the mangled wreckage.

  After half a mile of climbing, the ground suddenly opened up, to the left Fossey could make out the lights of Liverpool and beyond, like jaundiced diamonds flickering in the rain. To the right the moors seemed to sweep upward towards a sky angry with bloated rainclouds. Lasser took another right turn, the road curling around the top edge of the woodland, after fifty yards he caught sight of the assorted police vans and cars parked on the right. Flicking off the main beam, he looked for somewhere to park.

  Fossey could make out a group of about ten officers, standing in a rough semicircle around a tall man with short, steel-grey hair.

  They climbed out and headed over, Simms's voice was loud, his tone forthright. 'Nobody does anything without my say-so and if anyone thinks this is just me spouting my mouth off, making idle threats then think again, gentlemen. Because I will personally see to it that anyone who decides to be the hero will be fucked.' Simms took his time, looking at each man in turn.

  Lasser smiled, he could see the look of shock on a few of the faces in the group, Spenner looked as if was about to burst into tears.

  Over to the right, Fossey could make out a group of four men standing by the side of a dark-blue van, dressed completely in black, each held a short-nosed machine pistol across their chests, the guns pointing at the ground.

  When Simms turned, he spotted Lasser standing behind him.

  'Who's this?' he asked, nodding towards Fossey.

  'This is Patrick Fossey, sir.'

  Simms pursed his lips. 'I see.'

  'He's offered to assist us should we need it.' Lasser kept his face straight and his fingers crossed; a gust of wind hurled a spattering of rain into his face.

  Simms turned to Fossey. 'You know the family involved?'