SHADOW OVER THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of suspense (14 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The morning briefing had been a hurried affair. Nikki had laid out the facts for her officers, bare bones with no embellishment, then split them into teams and put them to work.

Back in her office, she was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of loss; which for a dyed-in-the-wool loner was something of a new experience. She had spent most of the last two years
trying
to go solo, doing everything she could to avoid having a permanent sergeant at her side, and now her wish had been granted, she hated it.

She had spent the last part of the night unable to sleep, tossing and turning and unusually edgy. Several times she had got up and stared down into the shadowy garden, unaware of why she was doing it, but somehow just trying to calm the feeling of foreboding. But that never happened, and when it was time to get up, she still felt jittery. She had taken Joseph some breakfast on a tray, and offered him the freedom of her DVD and CD collection, not that for one moment she believed that he would be relaxed enough to enjoy anything like that. And then the realisation dawned on her that he would be marooned on Cloud Fen with no transport. Which considering the things that had happened was not a smart move, so she had promised that as soon as she was able, she’d get his car out to him. Luckily, he had left it in the staff car park when he had left to meet his girlfriend.

Nikki pursed her lips. She had spoken to Bryony as directed, and had been strangely unsettled by the conversation. Not that either of them had made anything other than extremely polite comments. Although clearly upset by Joseph’s experience, the woman reacted in a sensible way, not snivelling or throwing a girly wobbler. She had expressed her concern in an intelligent manner, and for some unfathomable reason, even that had managed to irritate Nikki.

She shook her head, and decided that Joseph’s love life should be very low on her priority list right now. Two murders and a suicide definitely ticked more boxes for attention than beautiful Bryony-bloody-Barton.

‘Ma’am?’ Dave Harris looked enquiringly at her. ‘Have you got a moment?’

Nikki threw him a knowing look. ‘Okay, detective, what’s worrying you?’

‘The Sarge, ma’am.’ He took the only other chair in the office, and pulled it a little closer to her desk. ‘I was reading between the lines at this morning’s meeting, and I’m concerned that he’s not at work today. Is he alright, ma’am?’

Nikki took a deep breath. Right now she needed an ally. And as Dave was one of the few officers on the station that she would trust with her life, maybe she was being a fool to keep the whole situation to herself. She didn’t want to betray Joseph in any way, but another perspective could make all the difference.

‘Because I happen to think that you are the most dependable and honest copper I know . . .’ she looked at him shrewdly, ‘I’m going to ask for your help, Dave. But what I’m going to tell you stays right here, with you and me, okay?’

He nodded slowly. ‘Absolutely, ma’am.’

‘Right, well, you asked about Sergeant Easter . . .’

It didn’t take long to explain a watered-down version of the situation, one that did not involve any mention of what happened in the Congo, and at the end, Dave simply said, ‘It doesn’t surprise me to hear about his old career, ma’am. I’d often thought that may be the case from the way he conducted himself, but he’s too much of a gentleman to be a disillusioned squaddie.’ He smiled. ‘I like Sergeant Easter, I have a lot of time for him, ma’am, so just tell me how I can help, and I’ll do it.’

‘I want you to trace Billy Sweet. Start with army records. We know his original unit, and an approximate time when he left to go to this private security force, but from there on it’s going to be tricky. And Dave, not a word to anyone, not even the super. If he starts asking questions, refer him to me.’

‘No problem, ma’am. But the murder room is hardly the place for a discreet enquiry, is it?’

‘Work from here. Use my computer and my phone. You shouldn’t be disturbed.’ She scribbled down the few facts that she knew about Sweet and handed them to Dave. ‘I’m going to be out for about an hour. I don’t like the thought of Joseph being stranded on the marsh with no vehicle, and as uniform are stretched the limits, I’ll take his Ford myself and he can drop me back. He’s not an invalid, and I’ve got some paperwork he can do from home.’ She noted Dave’s surprised look and said, ‘It’s not this case, don’t worry. And I’m not being a slave-driver, he needs something to keep him occupied. If the super hadn’t pulled rank on him, he’d be here right now.’

‘I’m sure he would, ma’am. Give him my best, won’t you?’

Nikki picked up the pile of folders that contained the statistics that Joseph had been working on and the info that Dave had pulled up on the suicides, and pushed them under her arm. ‘Of course. And Dave, try to get us a photo of Sweet. Doesn’t matter if it’s old, we can always get Cat to get her techie mates to age enhance it for us.’ She paused at the door. ‘Thanks for this. I owe you.’

‘Thanks for what, ma’am?’ Dave gave her an angelic look and logged in to her computer.

* * *

‘Naturally I gave him the sanitised version, I just don’t want you to think I’ve grassed you up in any way.’ Nikki looked at Joseph hopefully.

‘I’d never think that.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Dave is a good old boy. If I had to tell anyone, it would be him. Besides, with me in dry dock, you need someone to trust.’

Nikki opened the key box on the kitchen wall, removed a spare front-door key and handed it to Joseph. ‘Keep it. It’s always good to have someone else hold a house key. Martin always had one when . . .’ she let the rest of the sentence fade away.

‘And what on earth are we going to do about
that
?’ asked Joseph fretfully. ‘It was going to be tough enough with two of us, but now?’ He threw up his hands in frustration, ‘Why the devil did the super have to do this? I’m perfectly fit to work!’

‘Then work from here. Uninterrupted, and with all the free tea and coffee you can drink.’ She pointed to the folders that lay on the kitchen table. ‘Drop me back to the nick, then get back here and get your head into these.’

Joseph stared at them, then gave her a grudging smile. ‘Ah . . . the stats. So you mean I won’t be watching twenty back episodes of
The Bill
after all?’

‘The stats are only there if you have the heart to look at them, but those suicides really could do with some attention.’ Her face darkened. ‘I’d wager a pound to a penny that you’ll find something wrong if you look hard enough.’ She handed him his car keys. ‘The computer is all set up in the study, along with some reference books and directories that may prove useful.
The Bill
can wait, I think. Now, if you’d be kind enough to put on your chauffeur’s cap, I need to get back before I’m missed.’

As they walked the door, Joseph gently touched her arm. ‘I do appreciate you letting me stay here, ma’am. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise.’

Nikki gave him a long, searching look, then said, ‘It’s okay. After all, you’re not just my sergeant, you’re my friend. And
please
ditch all that ‘ma’am’ stuff while you are under my roof, it makes me feel like some aged crone!’

‘I don’t think so!’ He gave her arm the slightest of squeezes before letting go. ‘But I guess we’d better crack on. Time is hardly on our side, and we
both
have work to do now.’ He picked up his wallet from the table and held the door open for her. ‘Your carriage awaits.’

* * *

Joseph dropped his boss off close to the gates of the nick, then retraced his journey back to Cloud Fen. The more times he did the trip the less the winding and dangerously narrow lanes seemed to bother him, and as he reached the bottom of Buckledyke Lane, he slowed down and stared across to Knot Cottage.

Martin Durham had certainly lived in an idyllic location, as long as you could cope with solitude.

He wound the window down, turned off the engine and sat looking at the tiny cottage. He tried to imagine Martin coming home, lighting the fire, and preparing his dinner. Now that was something he could relate to. The preparation of food was almost a spiritual thing to him. And it would appear that Martin had been a fellow connoisseur of vegetable slicing and the careful filleting of sea-fresh fish.

Before he had even made a conscious decision to go back into the cottage, he found himself out of the car and walking down the lane.

The door was closed, but the blue-and-white police cordoning tape had gone. Forensics had finished and the restricted access had been lifted. He tried the door, and to his surprise, it swung open. ‘Naughty! Naughty!’ he murmured, and thought that someone should have their wrists slapped for that.

He stepped inside, and was shocked to see the place almost as tidy as it had been on his first visit. SOCOs and big-foot coppers did not leave the scene in this condition, that was for sure. He moved into the kitchen, glanced out of the window, and that was when he saw the bright red MG parked around the back. A car he had seen before, in Old Bolingbroke when they had gone to interview Martin’s sister, Elizabeth.

Without delay, he quietly retraced his footsteps, through the lounge and back to the front door, where he proceeded to ring the bell.

‘Yes?’ An upstairs window had opened and a face looked out.

He held up his warrant card for the woman to see. ‘DS Joseph Easter’ He squinted in the sunlight. ‘Would I be right in thinking that you are Janna Hepburn-Lowe?’

The window closed with a slam, and he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

‘May I come in?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but strode past her into the lounge. ‘My! You’ve not wasted time getting the place tidied, have you?’

The woman must have been in her forties, but her white-blonde hair, cut in a short messy style made her look years younger. She wore jeans and a bright green T-shirt with the logo ‘I Support Tree Love’ emblazoned across the front, and much as he would have loved to make a comment, he diplomatically decided against it.

‘Martin would have
hated
his cottage being left in that state. Sorry, but I thought you lot had finished?’

‘
Us
lot have, miss. It was
me
that wanted another look.’

‘Ms, actually, and don’t let me stop you. I’m nearly finished anyway.’ She threw him an accusatory look. ‘This was somebody’s home you know, it was left in an appalling state. And that was apart from what the burglar did.’

‘It was the intruder who trashed the place,
Ms
Hepburn-Lowe. I saw what he did.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Any idea what he was looking for?’

‘What do you mean?’ The woman stiffened. ‘It was just some thug seeing what he could find after he’d heard that Martin was dead, wasn’t it?’

‘Was it?’ asked Joseph. ‘I certainly don’t think so, and nor do you. Where is Elizabeth Durham?’

‘She’s gone to the tip, if you must know. Taken Martin’s broken and damaged belongings.’ She returned his stare with a look that reflected both hostility and fear. ‘And I wouldn’t bother to wait for her, she’ll be ages. There was rather a lot of stuff ruined.’

‘So, did you find what you were looking for?’ he asked amiably.

‘I think you’d better go,’ she said grittily.

‘And I think you’d better start telling me the truth. Or maybe your Elizabeth will get a call saying that you’re down at the police station helping us with our enquiries. We take a dim view of people who waste police time.’

The woman blanched, and Joseph hated himself for being so hard, but he knew that something was amiss, and pussy-footing around would get him nowhere.

Janna suddenly lost all her aggression, and she sounded exhausted when she said. ‘We found nothing.’

Joseph also softened his tone. ‘Was it something very important? Something that could help us discover why he died like that?’

‘Whoever broke in must have thought that, that’s for sure.’ Janna pointed to a seat. ‘Come and sit down.’ She followed him in and flopped into a high-backed armchair. ‘I don’t know much, I’m afraid. You’ll really have to speak to Elizabeth.’ She leaned forward, and stared at him earnestly. ‘All I can say is that we think they were looking for paperwork regarding something that happened a very long time ago. Long before he came to live here.’

‘What was he involved in, do you know?’

Janna shook her head. ‘Martin wasn’t
involved
in anything, Detective Sergeant. He was a good man. I just know something happened, but neither Elizabeth or Martin would ever say what it was.’ She looked at him earnestly. ‘I’m not even sure if Elizabeth knows much. I suspect Martin never told her everything, but she may know more than I do. And that’s all I can honestly tell you.’

‘Well, I do appreciate that, but I’ll have to see Elizabeth. Will she really be ages?’ He smiled at her.

‘’Fraid so. That was actually the truth. I said I’d meet her back at home. She was going on somewhere after the dump.’

‘When you see her, would you get her to ring my boss straightaway please?’ He gave her the number for the station.

Janna took the card and nodded. ‘Elizabeth’s already had one message to ring the DI, but we needed to get out here and see for ourselves first. Sorry about that.’ She walked him to the door, then said, ‘He was killed, wasn’t he? I don’t know how they did it, but he
was
killed.’