by Michael Wood
Sian began the interview. ‘Mr Ridgeway, did you get on with your in-laws?’
‘Of course I did,’ his tone was accusatory.
‘There’s no “of course” about it,’ Sian said. ‘Not everyone gets on with their in-laws. I know I don’t.’
‘Well I did.’
‘That’s refreshing to hear.’ She smiled. ‘How did you and Leah meet?’
‘Through a mutual friend. I play tennis and Leah was looking for a partner. I stepped in and we played mixed doubles. It built up from there,’ he said with a genuine smile on his face.
Sian copied his smile. ‘How long was it before you were a couple?’
‘A few months.’
‘And did you propose?’
‘I did.’
‘What did her parents think of you getting married?’
‘They were pleased. I think they were happy I was a doctor, too.’
‘Status meant a lot to Clive and Serena?’ Sian asked.
‘No. I don’t mean it like that.’
‘When you heard about your wife’s family being killed, what did you think?’ Sian asked quickly.
‘What kind of a question’s that?’ he asked, looking to Scott then back at Sian. ‘I was shocked, obviously.’
‘You didn’t expect anything like this to happen?’
‘No.’
‘Do you know of anyone who would want to kill your wife’s family?’
‘No.’
‘Tell me about what happened on Sunday.’
He stammered at the sudden change of subject. ‘It was my wedding day. We were all busy. Everyone was running around trying to make sure everything went smoothly.’
‘And did it?’
‘Until someone decided to kill my wife’s family, yes,’ he said with incredulity.
‘Did you notice anything unusual in the behaviour of Clive and Serena, or even Jeremy on the day of your wedding?’
‘No. Well, Clive was a bit quiet. I think he was worrying about his speech. Serena was trying to do half a dozen things at once, as usual. Jeremy was just Jeremy.’
‘Did you get on with Jeremy?’
‘We didn’t see each other much.’
‘You’re both the same age, roughly, you do the same job. I’d have thought you’d have a lot in common, enough to spend time with each other.’
‘We went for a few drinks when we met up. He was in Liverpool and a single parent working long hours and raising a daughter on his own. He didn’t get much free time.’
‘How is your wife coping with all this?’ Scott asked for the first time.
‘How do you think she’s coping? She’s in bits.’
‘Mr Ridgeway,’ Sian began, ‘there’s no need to be on the defensive. We’re trying to find out about your wife’s family in order to discover who killed them.’
‘I’m not on the defensive.’
‘You’re acting like this is all a great inconvenience to you.’
‘To be honest, it is. I should be on my honeymoon right now. Not exactly the great start to married life.’
‘Mr Ridgeway, tell me about your relationship with Clive Mercer.’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t have one.’
‘Really? You were marrying his daughter.’
‘He was a very busy man.’
‘Is that it?’ Scott asked when Oliver didn’t continue.
‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’
‘What did you think of him?’ Scott leaned back in his chair and folded his arms firmly against his chest.
‘I liked him. He was a kind man. Generous.’
‘In what way generous?’ Sian asked.
‘He paid for the wedding.’
‘That’s just tradition, though. How about Serena? What did you think of her?’
‘I liked her.’
‘Was she kind and generous too?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that for them being your in-laws, your new extended family, you sound like you didn’t know much about them,’ Sian said.
‘Look, I’m a junior doctor. I don’t know how many hours a detective works each week, but we work all the hours God sends. In my spare time, I’ve been preparing for this wedding as well as studying, and trying to find a house I can afford. Any time left in the day, I tend to try and grab a few hours’ sleep. I didn’t see my in-laws much. I didn’t see Jeremy much. I rarely see my own parents and brothers.’
‘So you wouldn’t know if Clive, Serena, or Jeremy had any enemies? Anyone who would want to kill them?’
‘No. I wouldn’t.’
‘What about you?’ Scott asked.
‘What about me?’
‘Did you want to kill them?’
Both Sian and Oliver looked at Scott with wide eyes. The silence in the room was palpable. The temperature seemed to drop by several degrees.
‘No I did not.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Besides, I was in Paris at the time.’
‘Wanting someone dead isn’t the same as actually killing them. You could have put someone up to it.’
‘DC Andrews,’ Sian said.
‘Oh, yes, I put a notice up on the hospital board. Anyone fancy making a few quid? Give me a call, I’ve got a couple of relatives I want killing. Just who do you think you are asking me those questions?’
‘Mr Ridgeway, DC Andrews is merely …’
‘Now that Jeremy is dead, your wife stands to inherit a great deal of money. But it’s not always about money, is it? Sometimes people kill to stop someone finding out about something,’ Scott said. His voice was calm and he looked straight ahead at Oliver.
‘How dare you?’ Oliver fumed, standing up. ‘You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. I love my wife. I would never do anything to hurt her. And I did not kill her family,’ he said, looking Scott straight in the eye.
‘I think we’re letting things get out of hand here,’ Sian said. ‘Perhaps we should take a break.’
Sian ushered Scott out of the room and, holding him by the elbow, marched him down the corridor into an empty office. Scott towered over Sian, so the sight of him being led by a woman almost a foot shorter than him looked comical.
‘What the hell was all that about?’ Sian said, throwing Scott into a room and slamming the door closed behind him.
‘He’s lying.’
‘What? How do you know?’
‘I …’ He stopped himself.
‘What?’
Scott was sitting on the edge of a table. He was playing with his fingers, looking down.
‘Scott, what is it?’ Sian asked.
He looked up. There were tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.’ His voice was breaking slightly.
‘You know something, don’t you? Something about Oliver?’
He nodded.
‘What is it?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I can’t. I’m not … I …’
Sian went over to the young DC and placed both hands on his shoulders. She lowered herself so she could look up and see his face. Tears were rolling down his cheeks.
‘Scott, whatever is going on, you can tell me. It won’t go any further, you know that.’
‘But what I need to say will go further now.’
Sian frowned. ‘This is personal, isn’t it?’
He nodded.
‘Bloody hell, Scott. What have you got yourself into?’
Chapter Twenty-Four
DS Aaron Connolly stopped in his tracks as he made his way through reception to the car park. He hadn’t expected to see Leah Ridgeway sitting in the corner. Her nose was red from where she’d been rubbing at it. Her eyes were puffy and wide. She was looking into the distance. She was shivering with cold.
‘Mrs Ridgeway?’ Aaron asked, placing a gentle arm on her shoulder.
She jumped and looked up at hi
m. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. Are you a detective?’
‘I am, yes. Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘I meant to ask DCI Darke, but I completely forgot. I was wondering, would it be possible to see my family?’
‘Ah,’ Aaron said sitting down next to Leah. He thought for a while, trying to find the correct words to use. ‘The thing is, your parents were stabbed many times. It might be better to remember them the last time you saw them, at your wedding, rather than how they are now.’
‘I want to say goodbye,’ she said, choking back the tears.
‘I can understand that,’ he said. ‘It’s just, they suffered serious stab wounds, which might be upsetting to you.’
‘What about Jeremy?’
‘I think you might be able to see your brother. Would you like me to find out for you?’
‘Would you?’ She smiled.
He tried to leave in order to make a phone call, but Leah grabbed his arm tight.
Matilda was tucked into the corner of the canteen wolfing down a large bowl of cereal. Christian stood in the doorway and scanned the room looking for her. He went over to her, pulled out a chair and sat down. He looked tired. His dark blond hair wasn’t in its usual neat and tidy state.
‘Trying to hide?’ he asked.
‘That was the plan.’
‘Sorry. I thought you’d want to know about Keith Lumb.’
‘Fire away,’ she said, shovelling in a large spoonful of cornflakes. ‘Ignore me, I just realized I didn’t have breakfast.’
‘OK. Well, Keith has a record as long as your arm. He’s only twenty-seven but he’s been in trouble since he was thirteen.’
‘What for?’
‘Theft, burglary, muggings, driving without a licence, driving without insurance, claiming unemployment benefit while working cash-in-hand, more theft and more burglary,’ he said reading down a list on his iPad.
‘But that’s just petty crime compared to what happened at the Mercer house,’ Matilda said with a mouthful.
‘Maybe he wasn’t acting alone.’
‘Maybe,’ Matilda thought. ‘It doesn’t make sense. You don’t just go from burglary and working while signing on to a frenzied triple murder.’
‘Maybe there’s another reason why his hair ended up at the scene.’
‘Such as?’
Christian frowned as he thought. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps he was a guest at the wedding.’
‘Didn’t you say he was on the run?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, he wouldn’t have attended a wedding if he was on the run. Why was he running anyway?’
‘He was arrested in Barnsley last week for a spate of burglaries in the area. He was charged and processed. A uniformed officer goes to his cell to take him for questioning and notices the door is open and he’s not there.’
‘How the hell was he able to escape from a police station?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘I think you and I should pay a visit to Barnsley.’
‘Such a treat. I’ll pop home and get my passport,’ he said with sarcasm, and a twinkle in his eye.
Matilda smiled. ‘We get all the good jobs, don’t we?’
‘How did it go with the Ridgeways?’
‘I haven’t had a chance to speak to Sian yet about Oliver but Leah’s in bits.’
‘Only natural.’
‘She’s very selfish though. She kept saying how all this is affecting her. She didn’t once say how Rachel was going to cope.’
‘I wouldn’t read too much into that. At the moment, her mind will be all over the place. Once it’s fully sunk in she’ll think about the practicalities.’
‘Maybe,’ Matilda mused.
‘Is it true Rory’s thinking of leaving?’
‘He did mention it. Attending the crime scene affected a lot of us. I think I’ve tried to assuage him.’
‘I hope so. Rory’s a good copper. He’s got the potential to go far,’ Christian said.
‘I know. I like him. Anyway, we’ll sort him out once we’ve got this case solved. I’ll track Sian down, have a word. In the meantime, get a pool car and organize a couple of plane tickets to take us to exotic Barnsley.’ She smiled.
‘Will do.’
As he left the canteen Matilda could hear Christian singing ‘Oh this year we’re off to sunny Barnsley, Y Viva South Yorkshire.’
She laughed. It was the closeness of her colleagues, the camaraderie, the laughter and how comfortable she felt around her team that she loved the most about this job. Yes, the crimes were often brutal and shocking, but if you had the right people around you, everything else was manageable. She needed to instil that sentiment into Rory. Then she realized she was considering leaving Sheffield herself only last night. She sniggered. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
Keith Lumb didn’t want to wake up. He was having a wonderful dream where he was living in Spain. By day he worked as a waiter in a restaurant. By night he walked the streets in shorts and a T-shirt, moving from bar to bar. He’d changed his name to something Spanish and affected a local accent to wow the English tourists. He’d romance a different woman every night; buy her a meal, drinks, take her back to his apartment overlooking the Mediterranean and make love to her on the balcony.
He woke with a start and remembered exactly where he was – a generic hotel room somewhere in the south of England with the unromantic sound of a busy motorway coming through the window. He was a long way from realizing his dream. At this rate, he wondered if he’d ever get out of Britain. Everything seemed to be conspiring against him. He looked at his watch and was surprised to see it was after eleven o’clock. He must have been shattered last night.
Keith decided against having breakfast. He had another lingering shower. He didn’t know when he was next going to have one. He dressed in the sweaty clothes he’d been wearing for the past three days and left the hotel.
Across the courtyard was a small Costa. He bought a black Americano, and two slices of toast which looked as if they’d never seen the inside of a grill. However, they would fill a hole for now. As he ate, he looked out of the window at life carrying on as normal. He didn’t even know where he was. He remembered the rapist truck driver picking him up just outside of Luton. They drove for about an hour before he turned into a darkened layby. When Keith had made his escape, he walked for a good half an hour until he came across the Premier Inn. Where the bloody hell was he? What if he’d walked in the opposite direction? He could be heading back north instead of to the south coast.
He left Costa, taking his coffee with him. He passed a petrol station and stopped as his eye caught the stand of newspapers. They were all carrying the same story as their front-page lead:
MASSACRE AT THE WEDDING
WEDDING DAY HORROR
MURDER AT THE WEDDING
That didn’t sound like something that happened in England. He pulled out a copy of The Sun and read the beginning of the story on the front page:
Three members of the same family have been killed in Sheffield in what police describe as a brutal massacre. The Mercer family were celebrating the wedding of their daughter when the killer struck on Sunday night, killing the bride’s mother, father and brother. Her niece was left alive but has been mentally tortured by what she witnessed. The seven-year-old is currently under armed guard in the city’s Children’s Hospital.
The Mercer family were well known in the affluent area of Fulwood where they lived, and neighbours were stunned when they heard of the carnage.
Cont. Page 4&5.
Keith’s hands were shaking as he gripped the paper tightly. He was about to turn to page four to continue reading when there was a bang on the glass. He looked up.
‘We’re not a library. You want to read it, you pay for it first,’ came the angry call from inside the petrol station.
Keith placed the paper back in the slot and walked away. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. He knew Fulwood. He was
there only last week. He knew the Mercer family too.
‘Fuck,’ he said under his breath. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
The viewing room of the mortuary was dank and depressive. Low lighting and dull-coloured furniture gave it an oppressive atmosphere. Aaron had been in this room many times with grieving relatives throughout his career; even if it was decorated in modern colours with a plush carpet and gaudy furnishings, he often thought the room would still have an air of sadness. It leeched out of the walls. Hundreds of people had cried in this room; Leah Ridgeway was simply another inhabitant. There would be more like her. Death was the only constant to life.
The door opened and Lucy Dauman stuck her head through the small gap she allowed. She gave Aaron the nod then quickly left. He knew the drill. There was a switch at the side of the window; you pressed it and the curtain opened to reveal the dead.
‘Are you ready?’ Aaron asked.
Leah was perched on the edge of the uncomfortable sofa. ‘I don’t know.’ She looked up at him with wet eyes.
‘You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.’
She took a deep breath. ‘No. I do. I’m ready.’
She stood up and joined the sergeant by the window. With the dark curtain closed, Leah could see her frightened expression staring back at her. Aaron pressed the switch and the curtain slowly and smoothly opened.
On the opposite side of the glass, Jeremy Mercer lay on a trolley. A white sheet covered him; only his head was exposed. His hair had been combed, his face washed. He looked peaceful, as if he was sleeping.
Leah reached for Aaron’s hand and held it firmly. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ she asked, not taking her eyes from Jeremy.
‘I have an older brother.’
‘Are you close?’
‘He lives in Germany. We talk when we can.’
‘We were very close. We spoke often. And I popped to Liverpool most weekends to take Rachel out. What do I say to her?’
Aaron released the breath he’d been holding. ‘I don’t know. Children are very resilient, though. She’ll get through this. You both will.’
