A Perfect Likeness (15 page)

They finished breakfast in silence. Despite the good start to the day Jackie felt all was not well; she had the feeling Trish was worried about something, but was not prepared to talk about it.

*

Jackie heard the car arrive moments before her father signalled their arrival with his usual toot of the horn. She was still undecided as to whether it was a good idea to inform them of what had happened during their absence and decided to wait until the right time presented itself.

Scottie couldn’t wait for the gate to be opened; he leapt over the low wall and, ignoring the zig-zag path, bounded straight to the door where Jackie was standing and jumped into her arms. Although they were both pleased to see each other it was Scottie who did all the face licking.

‘That’s enough, Scottie, I hope Mum and Dad are as pleased to see me as you are.’

‘We are,’ said Brian Salter struggling to get the two large cases through the gate, ‘but don’t worry, we shan’t be throwing ourselves at you and licking you to death. A cuddle and a kiss will do.’

Brian Salter rested the cases on the path and allowed his wife, Margaret, to pass him; she was desperate to reach her daughter.

‘Hi, Mums, missed you. Hope it all went well?’

‘Perfect, in every way. What about you? Been a good girl?’

‘Perfect, in every way. Go on in, I’ll help Pops with the cases.’

‘Thanks, Jackie,’ said her father, ‘it really was a superb holiday, we’ve so much to tell you. You alright, didn’t miss us too much?’

‘Not too much,’ she said, her face beaming, ‘but it’s still wonderful to have you back home.’

Jackie couldn’t help but notice the change in her parents; they were relaxed and their faces didn’t show the strain that was ever present before they went on holiday. She was overjoyed and eager to find out what had brought about the change. ‘Right, you two, I can’t wait any longer for you to tell me about the Caribbean. Is it as friendly and romantic as I dream it is?’

‘It is all of that and more,’ said her mother.

‘Jackie, your mother and I had a wonderful time and we both feel such a lot better for it. We owe you so much for persuading us to make the trip. On the second day we met a lovely couple, American and a few years younger than us, who lost their eighteen years old son in a motorcycle accident a matter of weeks after we lost Victoria.’ Brian Salter moved closer to his wife on the settee, took her hand and kissed her cheek. ‘It was such a comfort, for all four of us, to be able to talk about our respective tragedies. In fact, we spent every moment we could together and even went on the same excursions just so we didn’t have to be apart. We were able to give each other support and encouragement and now we feel we are able to move forward with our lives and cope much better with the future.’

‘Oh, Mums, Pops, that is wonderful. Victoria would be so pleased.’ Jackie sat, close to tears, crosslegged on the floor with her chin resting on her mother’s knee.

Margaret Salter ruffled her daughter’s hair. ‘Now, what about you, my girl? I’ve got the clear impression you are itching to say something to us, but can’t quite decide whether the time is right. Come on, I know I’m right. I am your mother you know.’

‘Yes, Mums, you are right. There is something. Well, it’s… it’s …’

‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ asked her mother with a look of hope on her face. She felt time was running out for her to be a grandmother.

‘No, Mums, don’t be silly. Don’t even have a boyfriend.’

‘Pity.’

‘What is it, Jackie?’ asked her father.

‘Yes, something did happen while you have been away and it was to do with Victoria. I could see you have had a super holiday and I just didn’t want to open up all the old wounds.’

‘We are fine now so I suggest you tell us before
you
get yourself even more worked up,’ said her mother.

‘Okay then, here goes. The day after you left I had a letter from Michael.’ She halted and waited for the reaction that didn’t come.

‘And?’ said her father.

‘Well, he said he never killed Victoria and pleaded with me to believe him. I have the letter upstairs; I’ll get it later for you to read. I have read it and re-read it so many times to see whether my feelings about it change, but they don’t. There was just something about it, I felt an honesty in the way it was written and decided I had to do something about it. I went to see DI Deckman, but he was not prepared to help. He said it was quite normal for convicted prisoners to continue pleading their innocence by writing this type of letter. He was very kind and said he would consider taking another look if there was new evidence and suggested I went to see Michael to try and get some more information. I wasn’t ready to see Michael and told him so. He then gave me the name of a private investigator who he had dealt with in the past. Well, to cut a long story short, it was difficult. She had been out of action for some months and going through a tough time. I persuaded her to help and I believe she has come up with evidence that may, just may at the moment, help prove that Michael did not murder Victoria.’

‘Oh my God. The poor boy, having to spend two years locked up for something he didn’t do.’

‘Steady on, Margaret,’ said Brian Salter, ‘Jackie said it may be the case. Have you spoken to DI Deckman about the investigator’s findings?’

‘Yes, and he has had permission to look further although the case has not officially been reopened at this stage.’

‘This investigator, what is the evidence she has found and is it genuine? What’s been wrong with her anyway?’ asked Margaret Salter.

‘Oh, Mums, don’t be so suspicious. She had the best agency in the town, according to DI Deckman, and worked with her husband until he ran off with a wealthy client and set up home with her. Trish broke down and took to the bottle. Between us, that is the landlord of The Study pub and myself, we think she is beginning to put her life back together. She is a very clever lady and found information that the police didn’t have. Like, Victoria met a lady shortly before she died who was as identical to Victoria as she could be. Like, Victoria and her friend from the print works were followed on more than one occasion. Like, Victoria’s passport and driving licence had been stolen. Like, the other woman appears to have used Victoria’s identity to travel to Spain a short while ago. There is so much.’

‘Pretty impressive, I’d say,’ said her father.

‘Me too,’ offered her mother. ‘But I hope I never see this other woman, it would be too much for me to take. I suppose now you have the problem of finding her?’

‘We have found her. The likeness is amazing. I went all cold when I saw her, but I never got close. According to Trish you would notice the difference straight away. She said this lady has eyes as cold as ice and full of hate. She works at the marina and runs a small boat company with her father. Trish has taken on a temporary job at the marina for a few weeks to find out as much as she can. She has been wonderful.’

‘Will we meet her?’ asked her mother.

‘Of course you will, very soon. Mums, Pops, just one thing. It is very important that you speak with no one about this because, if you do, it could jeopardise Michael’s chances of release. I haven’t even told his parents because it would be so hard on them if nothing came of all this. Enough of that for now, come on you two, another cuddle please. It is wonderful to have you back home.’

*

Mack returned to his seat after the third interruption to their meal and reached across the table to take hold of Trish’s hands. ‘I’m really sorry, Trish, this is not how I had hoped it would be.’

‘It can’t be helped so don’t worry about it. There will be many more times ahead for us, I hope.’

‘Me too. Trish I need to tell you something, I learnt today that my mother will be coming out of hospital tomorrow and I have to go up to Preston for a few days.’

‘When?’

‘Tonight, as soon as I have closed.’

‘No, Mack, you can’t do that.’ Trish bit her lip and looked down at her empty plate. She was furious with herself as Mack sat back in his seat releasing hold on her hands.

‘What do you mean, Trish? What can’t I do?’ He was unsure how to take her sudden brusqueness.

‘Sorry, Mack, I didn’t mean to sound cross. What I meant was, you can’t just go there for a few days because she will need you for longer than that. I know your sister has to go to America next week so why don’t you bring your mother back here to convalesce.’

‘I did think about it, but I won’t be able to look after her by myself so I thought it would be best for her to remain at home where I can get help for her.’

‘Mack, for goodness sake, what’s wrong with me? Don’t you think I’m up to it? Between us we can care for your mother.’

He took hold of her hands again and squeezed them. ‘Trish, nothing would make me happier. Do you mean it?’

‘Of course I do, but there is one condition and that is you get back here as soon as you can.’

‘Agreed. I couldn’t be away from you for too long anyway. I promise I’ll phone.’

‘You’d better. What’s happening about the pub, have you got a relief?’

‘I had to drag an old friend of mine out of retirement. He’s not over pleased, but that’s what friends are for and he owes me a big favour anyway.’

‘Have you packed?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Come on, let me give you a hand.’

Trish’s heart was beating fast. Still angry about her selfish outburst, but even more anxious about the following day. How was she going to get through it without serious problems? Her belief in herself at being able to cope was failing fast.

Please, God, help me. I must do it. She caressed the cross on the chain around her neck as she silently prayed.

‘Are you alright, Trish,’ asked Mack as he escorted her back home.

‘Yes, fine,’ she lied, ‘I’m going to miss you so much, Mack, even though you are only away for a day or two. As soon as we get ourselves together we are forced apart.’

‘I know exactly how you feel; I wish I didn’t have to go.’

‘Come on, it’s for your mother and she’s more important than anyone at the moment so give me a kiss and get yourself on the road.’ She reached out, took hold of Mack’s hands and drew him close. Their first kiss in private and neither wished it to end, especially Trish. But it was Trish who found the strength.

‘Mack, we’ll take this further when you get back,’ she whispered in his ear

‘You bet we will.’

Trish continued to wave long after Mack’s car had disappeared from view.

Chapter 12

Deckman rolled over on to his back, undecided as to whether he should get up before the alarm issued its usual crescendo of waves crashing over rocks. He looked towards the window, but saw nothing. It was still dark and he thought it might be raining. Turning on to his side he decided his best option was to give sleep another shot as darkness and rain were not at the top of his list of reasons for getting up earlier than necessary. Sleep didn’t come, too much on his mind, including his apparent failure with regards to the Victoria Campbell murder. It was ever present and the more he thought about it the more convinced he was he had made a serious error. He was struggling with his conscience and knew, if he wasn’t careful, he could drop into a deeper depression. There was also the fatal stabbing of an unknown woman three months ago; he had no leads and his superiors were getting anxious. He reached over and switched off the alarm; he didn’t want to disturb Jens. She was not the best of people early in the morning. Purrington, the cat, was living up to its name on the special bed squeezed between the end of the wardrobe and the corner of the bedroom. As soon as he heard even the slightest of movements he started purring, loudly, and it went on for an age.

Deckman sat on the edge of the bed juggling with his slippers when the mobile rang. He forgot the slippers, grabbed the phone and closed the bedroom door behind him.

‘Morning, Guv, it’s Colin, hope I didn’t wake the boys? Sorry to get you out of bed so early, but you know me, if I’m up then everyone else should be. What do you want first, the good news or the bad?’

‘I’m a bad news first person, but it had better be bad to justify getting me up at this time.’

‘Couldn’t be worse, Guv, I’m afraid. Got ourselves another dead woman. Another stabbing. We are over at the Pullens Park Industrial Estate, outside Quick Skips. Think you’d better come over.’

‘And the good news?’

‘It’s just stopped raining so you won’t need your raincoat.’

‘Nice one, Colin, makes me feel a lot better. Be with you in twenty minutes.’

Deckman woke his wife. ‘Sorry, Jens, you’ll need to get breakfast sorted this morning, Colin has just phoned and I need to go. It’s only six so you can have another hour. I’ve reset the alarm. Bye darling.’ She didn’t respond, already back to sleep with her gentle snore matching the cats purring for volume.

It took Deckman fifteen minutes to get to Quick Skips. An ambulance had pulled up as close as it could to the bin storage area where Fraser was standing.

‘Right, Colin, what have we got?’

‘Body of a white woman found by a member of the refuse collection crew making their first pick up of the day. Poor chap is a bit choked, he’s with the medics at the moment. Got the call at 5. 33am. The police surgeon, it’s Ken Janes this morning, is with her now. We might well have another unidentifiable to contend with. Mid-late twenties, blonde, attractive and well dressed. Not expensively so, but smart. Nothing else. No jewellery, no handbag. Nothing.’