Fairytale of Headley Cross (8 page)

“I had to leave a message on his answerphone. He wasn’t picking up.”

“He hasn’t been all afternoon. I might go over again on my way home. Make sure he’s not done anything stupid.” She paused. “You’re a cop, right?”

Nate’s nod was curt. “But I can’t discuss his case or history or…”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, so I’m not going to ask. This is about something else. If someone were receiving threatening phone calls, hypothetically speaking, what should she do?”

Nate’s gaze darkened. “Are we really talking hypothetically, or are you asking for a friend?”

“A friend.” Of course, everyone knew the euphemism, so it wasn’t technically lying.

“It depends if it’s harassment or actual threats. Threats of injury and so on, should always be reported to the police. If its harassment, someone who keeps ringing, won’t take no for an answer, cold callers et cetera, then changing your phone number usually works. As does going ex-directory.”

“OK. Thank you.”

“So, which is it?”

“Bit of both really. Her ex-boyfriend won’t take no for an answer, but said she’d regret it if she didn’t get back with him.”

“Hmmm…” A thoughtful expression crossed Nate’s face. “Would this be the same ex-boyfriend who beat up a local pastor last weekend?”

Maggie bit her lip. “I can’t…you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Nate held her gaze. “Change your phone number. If that doesn’t stop it, or if he calls around in person, I want to know.”

“OK. Thank you.” Maggie headed off to find the car. She drove the short distance to the manse. The house was in darkness. Not even the Christmas lights were on. She rang the bell. Silence greeted her.
He’s probably walking the dog.
She wrote a note and shoved it through the letterbox. She’d try calling later.

And no, she wasn’t doing to Carson what Wesley was doing to her. If he told her to leave him alone, again, she would. Right now she was a concerned parishioner looking out for her pastor. Or was it looking out for the man she loved? Both, she decided as she got back into the car. She just hoped he’d give her the chance to tell him.

****

Carson arrived back home in time to see Maggie’s car disappear into the darkness. He let Pilot into the house and fed him. He changed quickly into his biker leathers, and wheeled the bike around the front of the house. Then he started the engine and left.

He had no idea how he ended up in Whitechapel, a distance of some forty miles. He suddenly found himself parked outside the Rose and Crown public house. Somehow it drew him here like a magnet. At one time, this pub had been his local. He’d hung out here every night, when not on gang related business.

He pushed open the door. The same smell hit him full on. The same tired decorations hung from the ceiling. The same people sat in the same seats. It was as if time had stood still here. Silence fell as he walked to the bar and placed his helmet on the green toweling mat.

The barmaid, Kat, eyed him. “Carson. Long time no see.”

“It’s been a while, yeah.” He leaned one arm on the bar. “How have you been?”

“OK. Married now, three kids, still working here though. What can I get you?”

He looked at the bottles. He hadn’t drunk since he went to prison. “Uh…”

Kat laughed. “It has been a while if you don’t remember. Here.” She poured him a shot of whiskey and slid it across the bar. “On the house.”

“Thanks.” The conversations around him resumed as he picked up the glass and sipped it. The liquor tasted strange, and he wondered how he ever used to drink it.

A huge, bearded bloke came over and slapped him on the back. “Carson.”

Carson stood and hugged the man. “Den, how are you? Drink?”

“Sure.” He sat down on the next stool. “How long have you been out?”

“Three years.” Carson downed the drink and looked at Kat. “I’ll have two pints and chasers, please. We’ll go find a table.”

Over an hour later, the table was littered with empty glasses. Carson sat, nursing the pint glass. He’d had too many, he knew that, but it was easy to sit here, surrounded by people who accepted him. Word had gotten around the former gang members, not to mention some current ones, and it was quite a party now.

He ran his finger over the rim of the glass. “S’true wha’ they say. You canna take the bloke outta the east end, but you can take the east end outta the bloke.”

“If you say so, Rev.”

He looked up. “Or is it the other way around? And where’d that nickname come from?”

“You’re a preacher now, right? Therefore you’s Rev.” One of the men at the table saluted him with a half empty beer glass.

Someone shoved Carson and the glass shot from his hand. Beer flew over a bloke standing to his left. “I’m sorry.” He looked up, his vision blurring. “Do I know you?”

“I know you.” A huge hand closed over his jacket, jerking him to his feet. “You’ll know me better.” A fist came from nowhere, sending him across the table.

****

Carson pushed his handcuffed hands through his hair. The white forensic jumpsuit he wore chaffed his skin. He still couldn’t believe he’d been arrested. Again. This time for assault with a deadly weapon. “What else can I tell you?”

“When the police arrived you were kneeling over the victim’s body, his blood over your hands and clothes, with this knife in your hand.” Detective Sergeant Lyons pushed a sealed evidence bag across the table. “Is it your knife?”

“Yes it is, but I haven’t seen it in years. I didn’t hurt anyone. I wouldn’t.”

“But you have done in the past.” DS Lyons opened the file. “You’ve done time for violent crime—eight years for armed robbery. Then there’s assault with a deadly weapon, GBH, ABH…”

“Self-defense,” he said quietly. “That was proved in court. I’ve changed.”

“So I see. Bible College, and now you are an ordained minister. But what’s a pastor doing, dead drunk in a pub on a Sunday night, when he’s meant to be preaching forty miles away?”

Carson straightened. “What? You contacted them?”

“I spoke to a very nice girl in the church office who put me in touch with a couple of your elders, including a Detective Sergeant Holmes.”

Carson groaned and buried his face in his hands. If the elders wanted rid of him before, they’d have even more ammunition against him now. “But I didn’t hurt him. I don’t even know who the guy is. Why would I want to stab him?”

DS Lyons slid a photograph over to him. “Troy Andros. Rival gang leader.”

Carson frowned. “That’s the bloke I spilled the drink over. The one who laid me out across the table. But I’m not in the gang anymore. I haven’t been for years.”

“You were sitting with them.”

“No. They sat with me.”

The door opened and a grey haired man beckoned to DS Lyons. “Excuse me. Interview paused at 11.20.”

Carson watched him leave the room.

I didn’t do it, God, You know that. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t have.

The door reopened and DS Lyons restarted the tape. “Interview restarted at 11.21. Troy Andros died of his wounds fifteen minutes ago. Carson Armitage, I’m arresting you for the murder of Troy Andros. You do not have to say anything…”

8

Maggie walked down the corridor into reception. What could be so urgent it necessitated dragging her out of a rehearsal? She’d just gotten all the foundation and year one pupils to sit in a circle and sing. She glanced at Nate and his partner DS Dane Philips. Now what? Had something happened to her parents or her sister? “You wanted to see me?”

Nate inclined his head. “Sorry to trouble you at work, Miss Turner. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Miss Turner?
Alarm bells rang in her head. “Sure.” Her voice trembled for a second, before she regained some measure of control over it. “You’ll need to sign in and wear visitor passes.” She pulled two red badges from the pile.

“What does red mean?”

“Non CRB’d and can’t be left alone with the kids.” She smiled at the irony of that. “Not even your own kids either.”

“I’m hoping not to run into Vicky,” Dane said with a half-smile. “She’d only want to come home.”

“She’s in the hall with the others.” Maggie led them to the meeting room, across the corridor from the office. She sat down, her stomach turning. “What’s happened? Is it my parents or Pippa?”

Nate shook his head, pulling out his notebook. “No. We’ll be as brief as possible. I imagine you’re busy.”

“Yes, I have fifty kids in the hall for a nativity rehearsal.”

“When was the last time you saw Pastor Carson?”

Maggie looked at him startled.
Carson? This was about Carson?
“Why?”

“Maggie, I know you and Carson are seeing each other outside of the church.”

She looked from one man to the other. “I’m not sure what me seeing Carson has to do with anything. Surely it isn’t a crime to date your own pastor is it?”

“Maggie…” Dane spoke firmly. “We’re not here on church business. Whether you and Carson are dating or not, has nothing to do with anyone but the two of you. This is an official police enquiry and we need to know when the last time you saw or spoke to him was.”

“What? Is he OK? Is he hurt?”

“Just answer the question.” Nate’s tone changed, becoming harsher. “Or we can go down the station and do this. It’s your choice. When was the last time you saw Carson?”

Maggie’s fingers clenched on her skirt and she pushed back into the chair, shock radiating through her. What on earth was going on here? This was coming out of the blue and so fast that she could hardly catch her breath. “Yesterday lunchtime, after church, but I already told you that.”

“And after that? Did you go around after you left church last night?”

“I did, but he wasn’t in. The house was in darkness. That was about eight. I went home and then walked Gypsy before turning in about eleven.” She twisted the end of her hair over her fingers. “I rang him a couple of times. He finally answered about ten thirty. There was a lot of background noise and loud music where he was, so he said he’d call me back.”

“And did he?”

“Yeah, a minute or so later. Just time for the kettle to boil. He sounded drunk. We talked for a bit.”

“How long for?”

“Five or ten minutes. I couldn’t tell precisely. He was questioning everything. His faith, his calling, said the church wanted rid of him. I told him that wasn’t going to happen.”

“Did he say where he was?”

“No, but like I said it was really noisy. Then there was a crash in the background and he said he had to go.”

The two men exchanged a long look before Nate wrote down what she’d said. “And you’re sure of the time?”

“He rang my mobile. I can show you if you like. I don’t delete my call history.”

“That would be a great help.”

“I’ll go and get it.” She stood and hurried to the staff room. She opened her locker. What had Carson gotten himself into if he were in trouble with the police?

God, be with Carson. Help him fight whatever is going on. I don’t believe he could have broken any laws no matter how drunk he was last night. Maybe it’s a simple DUI, but why would they need to interview me. That’s a simple breath test and fine. Isn’t it?

She grabbed her phone and turned it over. It was always on, just on silent while she was in class. There were three messages. One from Jan, one from Nate and one from Wesley.

She sighed. She really should change her number like Nate suggested. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the corridor, reading her phone as she walked.

Nate’s read:
Maggie, can you ring me as soon as you get this? Its urgent.
Probably no point doing that now as he’d come and found her at work.

Jan’s message seemed to be full of gossip from the opening few words, but then she’d come to expect that.

Scandal in the church. Pastor Carson has been arrested and charged with murder…

Maggie stopped dead.
What?

Her heart pounded, and her stomach dropped into her shoes. She read the message slowly from the beginning again.
Scandal in the church. Pastor Carson has been arrested and charged with murder. Frank said there is no doubt he did it. Good job you weren’t with him last night. It might have been you he killed. Once a bad man, always a bad man. The sooner we are rid of him, the better.

Maggie pressed her hand to her stomach, willing her lunch to stay down. That scenario had never even entered her head. He wasn’t capable of that, surely? After a moment, she scrolled to the next text.

Wesley wrote: I
told you he was no good. He should have left you alone.

Maggie pushed open the door to the meeting room and let it swing shut behind her.

Nate looked at her, his brows furrowing. “Are you all right?”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me he’d been charged with murder?”

“Who told you that? You were only gone a minute.”

She held up the phone. “Church grapevine. I had a text from Jan Diamond, who got it from Frank. Apparently, it’s no more than Carson deserves and there’s no doubt he’s guilty. And Wesley thinks the same.” She dropped back into the chair, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “I don’t believe this.”

Nate held out a hand. “May I?”

She handed him the phone and closed her eyes. “He wouldn’t kill anyone, not even in anger. I know he wouldn’t.”

“We’ll need to access your phone records,” Dane told her. “And don’t delete those texts.”

“OK.”

“Maggie…” Nate’s voice was hard again. “This Wesley—is he the bloke you were telling me about last night?”

“I didn’t say it was me.”

“We both know what asking for a friend means.”

Maggie took a deep breath and forced herself to surrender the point. “Yeah, OK, it’s me. He’s been hounding me since I broke things off with him, and started seeing Carson.” She filled in the details for them.

“So it wasn’t an amicable split?”