The Plague Maiden (36 page)

As he watched the bones emerge from the earth, he recalled the words on the wall of the church tower. The miserable dregs
of the people survive. It must have been tough for the survivors, although from far-off history lessons he recalled that the
resulting shortage of labour gave the working men who were left new power and respect. The old saying about clouds having
silver linings sprang to his mind.

But the appearance of a group of people at the entrance to the site meant that his musings on the economic consequences of
the Black Death were cut short. He recognised Aaron Hunting at once, standing slightly apart from the others. Neil had heard
that Hunting had just buried his wife so the solemn expression on his face as he picked his way across the treacherous terrain
of the dig was hardly surprising. Sturgeon, he noticed, was following closely behind him, the inevitable carnation stuck in
his buttonhole: Neil found the sight of its fresh, frilly petals profoundly irritating, although he didn’t know why.

Neil assumed a martyred expression as Hunting drew nearer, signalling that, although he was injured and in pain, such was
his sense of duty that he struggled on regardless of the personal cost. He smiled weakly as Hunting offered his hand.

‘Dr Watson, how are you feeling?’

‘A little better,’ Neil replied bravely.

‘Good. When will the excavation be finished? I do realise that with human remains having been found, things might take a little
longer than we anticipated.’

‘People wouldn’t want to be buying their bread and milk on top of a plague pit, would they?’

Hunting looked at Neil, surprised. There had been a hint of defiant sarcasm in his voice, suggesting that he was no longer
the suffering invalid. ‘Indeed they wouldn’t. In fact I’ve been having doubts about the wisdom of siting the new store here.
There’s been quite a bit of local publicity about the excavation, and if the public come to subconsciously connect Huntings
with the plague …’

‘People have short memories.’ It was Keith Sturgeon who interrupted. His tone was soothing and sycophantic. ‘I’m sure all
this will have been forgotten by the time the store opens.’

Hunting said nothing but allowed Neil to lead him across the site to the newest trench, pointing out fresh items of interest
on the way.

‘I’ll take you over to the church hall in a minute and show you the finds. Thirty-three complete skeletons and more still
coming up.’

But before Aaron Hunting could reply Neil spotted a pair of figures approaching. Even from a distance he recognised Wesley
and Gerry Heffernan. Hunting, seeing that Neil was gazing over his shoulder, turned round. Sturgeon mumbled something in his
ear and hurried off in the direction of the road. Neil watched him go with a fleeting feeling of contempt.

Hunting turned to face the newcomers.

‘Mr Hunting,’ Wesley said when they were in earshot. ‘Can we have a word?’

Hunting gave a wary half-smile. ‘Certainly.’

‘We’d just like an informal chat with Mr Sturgeon if you can spare him for a few minutes.’

‘Help yourself.’ He looked round. ‘He said he was going back to the car for something he’d forgotten … he parked it up by
the church.’

Hunting’s expression gave nothing away. Wesley thanked him and began to follow Keith Sturgeon, quickening his pace as he neared
the church. Heffernan told him to slow down but Wesley took no notice.

There was no sign of Sturgeon anywhere near the row of cars parked by the church gate but Wesley noticed that the church door
was standing open. He began to walk up the path and Heffernan followed.

The ground was sodden from the recent rain and their shoes were soon covered with mud. When Wesley reached the shelter of
the church porch he wiped his feet on the ancient coconut mat that lay on the floor and Heffernan did likewise.

‘Do you think he’s inside?’ Heffernan sounded unsure.

Wesley didn’t answer. He led the way inside and saw that someone was
sitting, motionless, in one of the front pews.

‘Perhaps he’s in need of divine guidance,’ Heffernan whispered. But Wesley ignored him and walked down the aisle.

When he reached the front of the church he sat himself down next to Keith Sturgeon, just beneath the richly carved pulpit.
Heffernan hovered in the aisle a few yards away. As it was a grey, sunless day, the interior of the church was almost dark;
only a cluster of candles flickering before a small altar in the side aisle relieved the gloom: prayers for the living or
the dead.

‘We’d like a word, Mr Sturgeon.’

The man didn’t answer but stared ahead at the stained-glass window above the altar, an image of Christ blessing a group of
small children.

‘We know about your relationship with Mrs Amy Hunting.’ Sometimes Wesley hated intruding into people’s hidden secrets, dragging
the skeletons out of cupboards. But it had to be done if he wanted to learn the truth.

‘Amy’s dead,’ he said, almost in a whisper. ‘What does it matter now?’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Wesley quietly. ‘You see, I’ve heard that you and Amy had an affair in the 1970s. Is that true?’

Sturgeon said nothing.

‘I’ve been talking to Georgie Bettis. Didn’t they always
used to say that if you want to know about a man you should ask his secretary? Georgie didn’t want to discuss Mr Hunting’s
private life at first, but when I explained that it was a case of murder …’

Sturgeon looked up anxiously. ‘What did she say?’

‘She told me that she’d called at Mr Hunting’s house to pick up some important papers for a meeting and caught you and Amy
Hunting together. She said your affair went on for some time. She also said you were married. You must have married very young.’

Sturgeon nodded.

‘Children?’

Sturgeon shook his head violently. Wesley had touched a raw nerve. ‘My wife never wanted children.’

‘But you did?’

No answer.

‘Did Amy Hunting get pregnant as a result of your affair?’

‘Yes.’ The reply was whispered, almost reverently. ‘So you had a child at last … a son. Adam, wasn’t it?’ He nodded, a fond
smile playing on his lips. ‘Adam,’ he whispered. ‘He looked like me, you know. I knew he was mine as soon as I saw him.’

‘Did you see him often?’

‘Amy and I used to meet on my afternoon off. She knew how much I wanted to see him. She and her husband led separate lives
and my wife was busy with her career … she’s a hospital manager, you know,’ he said, half proud, half resentful.

‘Did you and Amy ever consider leaving your partners and living together?’

‘Oh yes. We considered it when Adam was born, but there was the problem of Loveday. Then there was Adam’s health – he had
a heart condition … needed operations. At least if she stayed with Aaron Hunting we knew Adam could have the best medical
treatment money could buy. I often wished we could all have been together … me, Amy
and Adam. It might have been goodbye to my career at Huntings but …’

‘Did Aaron Hunting know about you and Amy?’

‘We were very discreet and I don’t think he ever found out. Or perhaps he did and he just didn’t care. Georgie Bettis caught
us together once but that was our only mistake, and I was sure Georgie wouldn’t have said anything. Or perhaps she did … perhaps
that was the reason why Aaron never promoted me. I don’t suppose I could blame him if it was.’

‘You never thought of leaving Huntings?’

He shook his head. ‘Perhaps I was too set in my ways or perhaps it was out of some misguided loyalty to Amy … I don’t know.
I should have moved on but I never did.’

‘Did Loveday know about your affair?’

Sturgeon’s face reddened. ‘She walked in once when we were … in bed. But she was only young … about seven. She can’t have
known what was going on. Later on Amy had to bring her sometimes when we met up so I could see Adam. I suppose we thought
she was too young to take anything in, but didn’t Robert Burns say something about there being a child among us taking notes?
She must have thought about it later and asked herself why one of her father’s managers had been with her mother like that.
She must have done her sums about Adam’s birth. She must have added it all up and got the right answer.’

‘So she blamed you for her problems?’

‘She was a disturbed child before Adam’s death and she was even worse afterwards. Amy said she’d resented Adam from the moment
he was born; more than normal sibling jealousy … real hatred. If she’d guessed I was his father then I suppose it’s likely
I became a focus of her resentment. Reason didn’t come into it.’ He hesitated. ‘Adam looked so like me, you know … the image
of me when I was little.’ He smiled; there was pride and love behind his bitterness.

‘Adam died.’

‘Yes.’ There were tears in Keith Sturgeon’s brown eyes, brimming onto his cheeks. ‘That was the worst day of my life. My son …
my only son. The only child I’m ever likely to have. My wife had herself sterilised, you know … she never intended to have
children. I used to dream of the time when Adam was older … when I could tell him the truth … when I could tell him that I
was his father and we could do things together … father and son.’ He buried his head in his hands.

‘I’m sorry,’ was the only thing Wesley could think of to say.

Heffernan had been listening intently. Now he spoke. ‘You remember a girl who worked for you in the holidays called Helen
Wilmer?’

Sturgeon looked up in surprise. He’d almost forgotten the chief inspector was there. ‘I told you before,’ he said quickly.
‘I remember she went missing but I don’t remember anything else about her. Hundreds of people work for me. I can’t know them
all.’ He looked nervous and started to play with the wedding ring on his finger, twisting it round.

Wesley looked up at the pulpit, glowering down on them like some carved dark oak totem. ‘Amy told you about the Reverend Shipborne
being in charge of the germ warfare trials. I don’t suppose it had ever occurred to you that someone’s deliberate actions
might have caused Adam’s death. As far as you knew it had been a random misfortune. You and Amy must have been devastated
when you found out about Shipborne’s experiments.’ He paused, his eyes on Sturgeon’s face. ‘How did you feel when you discovered
Shipborne’s experiments could have caused your son’s death?’

Sturgeon stood up. He was breathing quickly. The pain in his eyes made Wesley recoil for a second. He fixed his gaze on the
window above the altar.

‘I can see why you wanted Shipborne dead but I can’t understand why you killed Helen Wilmer.’

Sturgeon said nothing. He stood with his eyes fixed on
the window; on the stained-glass images of the children.

‘Helen Wilmer was blackmailing you, wasn’t she? She’d worked at Huntings and when she saw you outside the vicarage near the
time of Shipborne’s death she recognised you and thought she’d try a bit of blackmail. Only she didn’t realise what she was
getting into. You arranged to meet her, didn’t you? You met her and strangled her.’

Sturgeon closed his eyes as if praying and stood quite still.

‘She could have destroyed you so you killed her.’ Wesley watched Sturgeon’s face and was surprised that he felt some sympathy
for the man. Avenging the death of his only son was something he could understand … but Helen Wilmer’s murder was different.
It had been wicked to end a young girl’s life like that.

‘You killed her, didn’t you, Keith? Can you imagine what her parents have gone through all these years? You lost Adam so you
must understand how they felt at losing their only child.’

There was no denial. Wesley knew his guess had been right. Helen Wilmer had paid for her amateur excursion into the world
of blackmail with her life. Keith Sturgeon’s obsession with Adam, his love for his only child, had triumphed over all other
considerations.

Sturgeon sat back down and slumped forward, his head in his hands.

‘You loved Adam. I can understand that. My own son was in hospital with suspected meningitis recently so, believe me, I know
what it’s like. I know what it’s like to feel helpless when your child’s life is in danger. Adam was everything to you … and
that man destroyed him.’

Sturgeon nodded vigorously, as if he was glad someone understood.

‘When did your affair with Amy end?’

‘After Adam died. I don’t think either of us had the heart to carry on. Amy suffered so much, you know. Then years later she
found out by chance that that vicar … that bloody
hypocrite … had caused Adam’s death because of some experiment: he’d used sick children like laboratory animals. Others died
as well, you know … he admitted it … and babies were born sick and disabled. He said he was sorry but sorry wasn’t enough.’

Tears were running down Sturgeon’s cheeks but Wesley knew he had to carry on. He wanted the truth.

‘Wouldn’t it have been better to try and get a public inquiry into what happened rather than take the law into your own hands?’
he asked gently. Something about this man’s grief tore at him. He could imagine himself in his place … and he wondered what
he would have done.

Sturgeon smiled bitterly. ‘They hold public inquiries about the siting of Huntings supermarkets. Ninety-nine times out of
a hundred they just say what the party with the most power want them to. If business holds so much sway, what chance would
you have against an organisation like the MoD? And I wanted the man responsible to pay. He deserved to die for what he’d done.’

‘What was Amy’s involvement in his death?’

‘She told me about her sister’s boyfriend … she said he was a crook and if we wanted to do anything about Shipborne we could
make sure he got the blame. She knew Janet, her sister, was meeting him that night in Belsham – Amy had suggested the meeting
place – and she knew that a week later Janet would be in the States and wouldn’t even find out about his arrest so wouldn’t
be able to give him an alibi. She suggested that I take something valuable when I’d … and we’d plant it in the boyfriend’s
flat and ring the police anonymously. That’s what we did.’

‘And it worked until Janet came back. You were taking a risk.’