by Celina Grace
“What are you up to?” Olbeck paused by the desk on his way back through the office.
Kate, who had her nose practically buried in the contents of the folder, merely grunted.
“Can I help?”
Kate waved him away. “Can’t talk. Concentrating. I’ll come over in a minute.” She heard Olbeck sigh but he obediently went away.
Kate continued reading slowly and thoroughly. Her search was hampered by the fact that she wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for. It was on the second sweep of the report that she spotted it and drew her breath in with a hiss.
It wasn’t much but it was something. Pondering her next move, she thought for a moment and reached for her phone.
Amelia Walker answered the call in a polite but rather hesitant manner. Her nervousness increased when she realised it was Abbeyford CID on the end of the line.
“Please don’t worry, Mrs Walker, it’s nothing to fret about,” Kate hastened to reassure her. “I just had a very few quick questions.”
“Yes?”
“You said to me last night that you thought you might have recognised Charlie Petworth. Is it possible that he might have once worked for you? As a gardener?”
There was silence on the other end of the line and then Amelia spoke with comprehension dawning in her voice. “Oh, yes. Why, yes, of course, that’s how I know him. Yes, he used to come and do the lawns, the hedge-clipping, things like that. How stupid of me not to remember.”
“Did he work for you for long?”
“A few years, I think. This was some time ago.”
Kate pushed her for the exact dates, as closely as Amelia could remember them. As she jotted down the numbers, she looked at the date of the report she was reading. So, that tallies…
“Thank you, Mrs Walker, that’s very helpful. One more thing; can I ask if your husband has always worked from home?”
Amelia Walker sounded confused at the question but answered it anyway. “Yes, he has done for the past few years. Actually, longer than that. At least five or six years, I think.”
“Right, thanks very much. Have Victim Support been in touch yet? Oh good. Well, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything else or remember anything else. I’ll be in touch.”
*
After Kate rang off, she sat silently, staring blindly across the office. Then, slowly, she got up and went over to Olbeck’s office. “I know you’re probably busy but would you mind sitting in on an interview with me?”
Olbeck looked surprised but smiled in acquiescence. “It’s pretty quiet at the moment, actually. Hope it keeps up until Christmas.” He got up from his desk. “Who are we interviewing?”
“Charlie Petworth.”
*
As luck would have it, one of the duty solicitors, Nathan Anstey, was just walking out of the cell block area as Kate and Olbeck entered it. Kate grabbed him by the arm. “Nathan! Just the person I wanted to see. Would you be an angel and just sit in on a quick interview with us?”
Nathan groaned. “Oh, Kate, I was just leaving…”
“I’ll be quick, promise. And Mark and I will take you for a festive pint afterwards.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “That’s bribery and corruption.”
Kate grinned. “Come on. I promise I won’t be long.”
She found a free interview room and collected Charlie from his cell. He stood a little uncertainly, waiting for Kate to lead him to where they were going.
“In here, Charlie. I just want to ask you a few questions. It’ll be all right.”
They all seated themselves. Kate leant forward. “Charlie, what was the name of the little girl you – you brought into the station yesterday?”
Charlie looked down at his trembling hands. “Her name is Joy,” he almost whispered. Then he blinked. “Or is that the other one?”
Kate said gently “Do you know the Walkers, Charlie? Did you used to work for them as a gardener?”
Charlie was blinking. He looked at Kate and nodded.
“You used to work for them?”
“Yes.” Charlie folded his hands back together. “Used to work for them, years ago. Did their lawns, did their flowers. Used to see the little girl in the garden. She used to give me daisies, pick ‘em off the lawn. Couldn’t talk much, she was too little, but she had a lovely smile. Little Joy.”
“You knew Joy Walker?”
Charlie nodded. A tear fell from his rheumy eye. “She died,” he said hoarsely.
Kate sat forward a little in her chair. This was the biggest leap of faith she’d ever taken in an interview. She swallowed hard before she asked her question. “Charlie, were you working at the Walkers’ house on the day little Joy Walker died?”
The silence hung in the room. Nathan Anstey was frowning. Kate could feel Olbeck tense beside her.
After a moment, Charlie nodded. “I was there. I looked up and I could see through the window. See the landing at the top, it were a big window, round like a porthole.”
He stopped speaking, his voice trembling. Don’t interrupt, Kate prayed silently to Nathan and Olbeck. Let him speak. She wondered how many years Charlie had choked this down, this memory, had tried to drown it with whisky and lager and cheap cider.
“What happened, Charlie?” she asked, as softly as she could.
Charlie gulped. “They all said she fell but she didn’t fall. He was angry. He picked her up and threw her down the stairs.”
And there it was. Kate clenched her fist under the table. “Who threw her, Charlie? Who threw Joy?” She could see Nathan opening his mouth to speak and shot him such a glare that he shut it again with a snap.
“He did,” whispered Charlie. “Mr Walker. He was angry, always angry. Used to hit his wife, too. Saw that too once, through the kitchen window.” His voice cracked. “Never said anything about that either.” He began to cry, softly.
Kate took a deep breath. “Charlie, why didn’t you say anything at the time?”
Charlie’s head hung. Kate saw a tear fall into his lap. “I was confused. I was drunk at the time, I was drinking even then. I thought I’d made a mistake, I thought I’d imagined it. Everyone was so sure it was an accident I – I didn’t know…” He trailed off and then his head came up and he looked Kate straight in the eye. “Who was going to believe me over him?”
There was another moment of silence. Then Kate asked, gently, “What happened yesterday, Charlie? Did you go to the Walkers’ house?”
Charlie nodded jerkily. “I go there sometimes. Never inside or anything. I just – sometimes I have to remember.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “I hid in the bushes by the driveway. It’s a long driveway, you can’t see the house from the road. No one could see anything but I heard them. I heard him. He was shouting again, shouting at his wife. Calling her a stupid bitch, saying he was going to kill her. And I looked over at the car and the little girl was there, in the car seat. And I was so frightened…” He took another gulp of air. “I just walked over and got her out and walked down the drive with her. I had to keep her safe, you see.”
There was a silence in which Kate fancied she could almost hear the soft flurry of snowflakes falling from the darkening sky.
Charlie cleared his throat and spoke again. “I had to keep her safe.”
*
Outside the interview room, Kate and Olbeck looked at one another. Olbeck was looking a trifle pale.
“Anderton?” was all that he said, and Kate nodded.
“Are you completely determined to ruin Christmas?” Anderton demanded, after listening to Kate’s five minute summation of what had just happened. “Opening an investigation this late in the day? Are you mad?”
Knowing him for as long as she had, Kate knew when her boss was merely v
enting steam. “Come on, sir. You’ve got a witness to the crime. At the very least, that’s enough to re-open the investigation.”
“A chronically unreliable witness, a homeless alcoholic to boot. The defence will make mincemeat of him.”
“It’s not just that.” Kate pushed the folder she’d been carrying under her arm across the desk. She indicated the part of the report that she’d highlighted in fluorescent yellow. “What about that?”
Muttering, Anderton did so. Kate watched his lips purse as he read. “That’s not much either.”
Olbeck spoke up. “Actually, I think Kate’s right. The post mortem on Joy Walker revealed that she’d already had her arm and her collarbone broken once before. Two broken bones in eighteen months? There could be some quite serious questions raised about why that wasn’t flagged up.”
“Hmm,” said Anderton.
“I’m sure if we pulled all the medical records of the family, we’d have something else to go on. Even the hospital attendance of Amelia Walker. You know the kind of thing to look for.” Anderton still looked unconvinced “Come on, sir. We don’t want yet another case of abuse where it all gets swept under the carpet just because the parents are wealthy, middle-class and professional,” Kate said with an edge of impatience in her tone,
“True.” Anderton looked up. “God, this is going to cause a fuss, though.”
“Well, we should be used to it by now,” said Kate.
Anderton barked laughter. “True! Okay, leave it with me—”
“There’s something else too,” Kate added. “Paul Walker lied. Blatantly lied about not knowing Charlie Petworth. He would have recognised him – his wife certainly did.”
“Okay.” Anderton scribbled something down on a notepad. “All right. You’ve convinced me. You have my word that I’ll be recommending another investigation into the death of Joy Walker, given the new information that’s come to light. Okay?”
Kate and Olbeck looked at one another and then back at Anderton and nodded.
“Fine. Right. Let me get on with it then.” Anderton waved a hand, dismissing them. Then he looked up. “Oh, Kate. Have a word with Social Services as well, will you? This is not just a new investigation, we have the issue of child safeguarding to take up with regards to Sophia Walker.”
Kate had already made a mental note to do just that. “Of course. Leave it with me.”
“Good stuff. Well, see you later. And Happy Christmas,” Anderton added.
*
Kate and Olbeck headed back to the office. Kate stood by her desk for a moment, irresolute.
“Don’t you have a phone call to make?” Olbeck asked on his way past.
“Yes. It’s just – hang on a minute. I’ll be back in a flash.” Quickly, she grabbed her coat and her bag and hurried out of the door.
The pavements had finally been gritted and Kate was able to make good progress to the city centre. It had stopped snowing but it was bitterly cold, the wind like a knife-blade against her face. Kate hurried thankfully into one of the department stores, loosening the scarf around her throat. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for.
“Shall I wrap it?” asked the jolly-looking lady behind the till. Kate nodded and thanked her. Then she took up her purchase and hurried back to the station.
Down on the cell floor, Kate approached Cell Three and peered through the viewing pane in the door. She saw, with compassion, that Charlie was fast asleep on the narrow bed.
Kate turned to the duty sergeant at the desk in the corner of the room. “George, could you give this to Charlie Petworth when he wakes up?”
George Smithfield took the paper-wrapped parcel from Kate suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Nothing dangerous. It’s just a calendar.”
“A calendar?”
Kate nodded. “A gardening calendar. With lots of pictures of flowers.” George was still looking at her suspiciously. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Have you got a pen?” She took the one he proffered and wrote on the front of the package. Happy Christmas, Charlie. A fresh start? Kate Redman. Then she handed back the pen and the package.
“I’ll give it to him,” George said, still frowning.
Kate tipped him a wink. “Thanks,” she said. “And happy Christmas.”
“Humph.”
Kate smiled to herself as she climbed back up the stairs. Halfway up, a window showed her the snow-covered streets of Abbeyford, the twinkle of the Christmas streetlights, the hurrying shoppers slipping and sliding through the snow. Kate paused, hugging her elbows. She thought about Charlie, peacefully asleep downstairs, and hoped he was dreaming of gardens; not snow-covered and dead, but glorious, green, verdant gardens, abundant with flowers.
She stayed there a long time, looking out at the snow, thinking about what had happened and what would happen in the future. Would justice be served? “All we can do is try,” she muttered to herself under her breath. Then, tearing her gaze from the snowy vista before her, she turned and began climbing the stairs again, back to the office.
THE END
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Want some more of Celina Grace’s work for free? Subscribers to her mailing list get a free digital copy of Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2), a free digital copy of A Prescription for Death (The Asharton Manor Mysteries Book 2) and a free PDF copy of her short story collection A Blessing From The Obeah Man.
Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2)
When the body of troubled teenager Elodie Duncan is pulled from the river in Abbeyford, the case is at first assumed to be a straightforward suicide. Detective Sergeant Kate Redman is shocked to discover that she’d met the victim the night before her death, introduced by Kate’s younger brother Jay. As the case develops, it becomes clear that Elodie was murdered. A talented young musician, Elodie had been keeping some strange company and was hiding her own dark secrets.
As the list of suspects begin to grow, so do the questions. What is the significance of the painting Elodie modelled for? Who is the man who was seen with her on the night of her death? Is there any connection with another student’s death at the exclusive musical college that Elodie attended?
As Kate and her partner Detective Sergeant Mark Olbeck attempt to unravel the mystery, the dark undercurrents of the case threaten those whom Kate holds most dear…
A Prescription For Death (The Asharton Manor Mysteries: Book 2) – A Novella
“I had a surge of kinship the first time I saw the manor, perhaps because we’d both seen better days.”
It is 1947. Asharton Manor, once one of the most beautiful stately homes in the West Country, is now a convalescent home for former soldiers. Escaping the devastation of post-war London is Vivian Holt, who moves to the nearby village and begins to volunteer as a nurse’s aide at the manor. Mourning the death of her soldier husband, Vivian finds solace in her new friendship with one of the older patients, Norman Winter, someone who has served his country in both world wars. Slowly, Vivian’s heart begins to heal, only to be torn apart when she arrives for work one day to be told that Norman is dead.
It seems a straightforward death, but is it? Why did a particular photograph disappear from Norman’s possessions after his death? Who is the sinister figure who keeps following Vivian? Suspicion and doubts begin to grow and when another death occurs, Vivian begins to realise that the war may be over but the real battle is just beginning…
A Blessing From The Obeah Man
Dare you read on? Horrifying, scary, sad and thought-provoking, this short story collection will take you o
n a macabre journey. In the titular story, a honeymooning couple take a wrong turn on their trip around Barbados. The Mourning After brings you a shivery story from a suicidal teenager. In Freedom Fighter, an unhappy middle-aged man chooses the wrong day to make a bid for freedom, whereas Little Drops of Happiness and Wave Goodbye are tales of darkness from sunny Down Under. Strapping Lass and The Club are for those who prefer, shall we say, a little meat to the story…
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More Books By Celina Grace…
Hushabye (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 1)
On the first day of her new job in the West Country, Detective Sergeant Kate Redman finds herself investigating the kidnapping of Charlie Fullman, the newborn son of a wealthy entrepreneur and his trophy wife. It seems a straightforward case… but as Kate and her fellow officer Mark Olbeck delve deeper, they uncover murky secrets and multiple motives for the crime.
