Текст книги "The Lake House"

Автор книги: Helen Phifer

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Five

Will and Stu had attended the shortest post-mortem ever. Watching Beth O’Connor’s husband identify her head had been terrible and left Will feeling drained. He had sobbed and sobbed, wanting to know where the rest of her body was, and Will wished to God he could tell him, but they didn’t have a clue. She had gone missing from a function she’d been attending at the Town Hall, probably around the same time that Annie and Will had been performing their first dance for everyone on their wedding night.

Will left the hospital and went straight back to the station, needing to read the missing person’s report through from start to finish again. After an argument at home her husband had refused to go to the black-tie evening reception held every year for newly elected councillors at the Town Hall, leaving Beth to go on her own. She had gone because she was a very popular woman and had known there would be no shortage of male companions to talk to or buy her drinks all night.

All the witness statements said that she had been having a great evening and hadn’t looked upset. Everyone at the reception knew Beth because she worked in the Town Hall and was popular. Three men who Will had spoken to personally had given statements to say they had gone outside with her for a cigarette, but it was literally a quick smoke and then back inside until one of the women noticed her going outside on her own for a smoke and arguing with someone on the phone, which her husband had confirmed. She’d rung him up after a few too many glasses of wine to have another go at him, he said, and the phone records proved that this was the truth.

It was after that phone call that she disappeared. She never came back into the reception. She didn’t go home, and none of the taxi drivers had picked her up; all the bus drivers had been spoken to and the CCTV checked and there was no sign of her. The town CCTV cameras hadn’t picked her up walking away from the Town Hall. She’d literally disappeared into thin air. After a couple of days a search team and a dog handler had gone into the Town Hall, a massive building, and they had searched it from top to bottom, even going up into the clock tower and attics and down into the basements. The dog had at least picked up her scent outside the rear doors where she’d been in and out to have cigarettes, but it didn’t go any further. All the bins, flower beds and drains around the area had been checked and still there was no sign of Beth O’Connor until you fast forwarded to two days ago when Jake found her well-preserved head all the way over at Bowness.

Will rubbed his forehead. He had to be honest. He didn’t have a clue where her body was or who had taken and killed her. All he could say for sure was that someone had, because it was pretty impossible to cut your own head off and then drive twenty miles to dump it under a boathouse. It was certainly a mystery. Her husband had been questioned several times but, around the time of the last phone call to him, he had had a pizza delivered and the delivery man had given him a watertight alibi. Will had told Stu to make some inquiries to see if they were friends, but the answer was negative. It was the first time he’d ever ordered pizza from this takeaway and had no connection to it whatsoever.

He phoned Annie to see what she was doing. As soon as the job had come in he had asked Cathy, her inspector, not to let her get involved, and she’d laughed so loud at him over the phone he’d had to hold it away from his ear.

‘Will, my friend, do you honestly think I’m going to let her anywhere near this? It’s bad enough I have a severed head right in the middle of the tourist season. The last thing I want is Annie getting involved in this up to her neck – no pun intended – because you and I both know it has the possibility of going horribly wrong if she’s anywhere near.’

He hated it when Annie didn’t answer on the first couple of rings but he knew there was a perfectly good reason when she was working. She couldn’t stop mid arrest or as she was driving to answer her phone. Stu put a mug of coffee down on the desk in front of Will and he gave him a thumb ups while leaving Annie a voicemail to ring him back. He put the phone down.

‘What’s the plan of action for today, boss?’

‘I think we need to speak to someone in Lancashire and ask how they are getting on with locating Henry Smith. Asking them why the bloody hell they haven’t found him yet would be a good start. It’s a huge coincidence that our very own Barrovian born and bred serial killer has escaped and now we have a severed head, but it doesn’t really fit right with his modus operandi, does it? He likes to slit throats, although I suppose severing a head would be the next step up for him. Shit, this could well be him and if it is we have a major problem on our hands because his behaviour is escalating.’

‘It could be, but do you really think he would risk his newfound freedom to come back here and cut someone’s head off? I don’t think so. We probably just have another copycat who wants to go to the Henry Smith Hall of Fame.’

Will wanted to agree with him but it didn’t feel right. Why dump the head in Bowness and what were the chances of Jake finding it when he was with Annie? Why not dump the whole body in Bowness? If she was last seen in Barrow then it looked like whoever it was wanted Annie or Jake to find that head, and why would someone want that? His phone began to ring and he relaxed to see Annie’s number flashing on his screen.

‘Afternoon, what’s up?’

‘Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.’

Stu was sitting at his desk sticking a finger down his throat and making gagging noises, and the others were all giggling. Will gave him two fingers and walked out of the office, letting the door slam shut behind him.

‘What are you on today? I suppose you’ve got loads of house-to-house to do. How’s it going?’

‘Nope, I’m on response. Cathy told me I was to keep well out of it and answer any jobs that came in. I’m with a brand new special called George who has very kindly offered to be the OIC in charge of a break-in at the rugby club. He’s taking a statement at this very moment in time.’

‘Oh, that’s a relief then. I can’t wait to see you. Do you want to go out for tea or should I pick something up on my way home?’

‘I’d rather you pick something up. I just want to go home and put my pyjamas on and drink wine.’

‘Such a high-maintenance, glamorous woman you are to keep. I don’t know how my bank balance will ever survive.’

She laughed and the sound made his heart skip a beat.

‘I told you I wasn’t after you for your money. Did you not believe me?’

‘Not really, but I’m overjoyed that you’re just after my body.’

‘See you later. And, Will, please can you stop off at the shop and pick up some blue-top milk and a box of Coco Pops. I just fancy some; I haven’t had them for years.’

‘No champagne or expensive chocolates? I’m offering.’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Okay, see you later. Be careful and don’t work poor George too hard. I love you.’

‘I love you too. Bye.’

She ended the call and he typed a reminder into his phone because he had a terrible memory and the last thing he wanted to do was forget when the nearest shop was miles away from where they lived.

When he walked back into the office they had all calmed down and were busy typing away. He was lucky he worked with such a good team of people. It could be much worse. They could all be class-one tossers. He sat down and decided to ring Grace Marshall, the forensic psychologist who had been there when Henry was captured and had also been Henry’s doctor in the secure hospital. He dialled her number and swore when she didn’t pick up either; he wasn’t having a very good day.

‘Stu, can you ring DS whatever his name is right now and find out what the latest update on Smith is, please.’

Stu pointed to the phone that was being held up to his ear by his shoulder.

‘Already on it, boss – just on hold while they transfer me.’

Will nodded. ‘Nice one, Stu.’

Will sat down and began to write a list of the bars, hotels, clubs and shops around the Town Hall perimeter. He would ask a couple of his trusted PCSOs to sit and view all of the CCTV footage that had been seized the night of Beth’s disappearance. Something might have been missed in the first raft of inquiries. It had to be watched in real time for anything that could give them a lead. Someone had to have lured Beth O’Connor away from her party and it could have been on foot, by car, van or motorbike. They couldn’t afford to leave anything unchecked because they needed a lead and they needed it now, not in three weeks’ time. He printed several copies of the list out and handed them to the newest member of the team, Detective Constable Jack Manning.

‘Do me a favour; can you print out enough copies of Henry Smith’s most recent mug shot the hospital sent and find enough clipboards to put the photo and a copy of the list on? Then go find me some PCSOs. I want every shop, bar, hotel and takeaway revisited just in case something was missed the first time.’

Jack nodded and disappeared out of the office in search of some clipboards. Stu couldn’t help but grin to himself; this was a turn-up for the books because it was normally him who got the crap jobs.

Chapter Six

Henry parked the van outside the caravan, which was tucked away at the back of the park, right next to the huge evergreen hedge that ran alongside Beckett House. It was an ugly caravan, so no wonder it was hidden out of sight, but it suited their needs perfectly. He’d never been in a caravan before the last four months, and now he’d lived in not one but two of them. He couldn’t complain, though. At least there were no heavy-duty metal doors or bars across the windows to keep him inside and he could come and go as he pleased, within reason.

He had made a small hole directly behind the caravan in the hedge, so he could get in and out of the gardens and boathouse to the big rambling house, which had seen better days. A couple of times he’d seen the old woman staring out of the bedroom window but she never looked his way. She always looked out onto the lake. Henry had watched her for weeks. He was very good at that so he knew exactly what happened and who came in and out of the house.

The boathouse was directly behind the hole he’d made so it gave him the perfect cover to go in and out unseen. When he’d lifted the window and climbed through he’d been surprised to see the boat in there, which for its age was in excellent condition. It had taken him a week to clean it up and check there were no holes in it, then he had gone out there one night when it was really windy and tried the engine. It had taken four attempts and on his last one, before he gave it up, it had started, and he’d jumped up and down like a kid at Christmas. He would be able to take it in and out of the boathouse whenever he needed it because the window the woman looked out of faced in the opposite direction, and he hoped that her eyesight wasn’t very good, along with her hearing. Judging by the state of the rusted-up lock on the main door into the building it hadn’t been opened for a very long time. It was a shame to let it go to waste. There was an upper galley that had a rusted table and chairs and enough room to throw down a sleeping bag should he need somewhere to hide.

Megan wanted to kill again. She kept begging and begging and was wearing him down. He had tried his best to hide from her the thrill he had got watching her cut the woman’s throat. Between them they had gagged her and then killed her. They didn’t have any clippers so Megan had cut big chunks of hair off so it was a mess. She had insisted their victim must have long hair she played with constantly. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed cutting her head off. It was too messy and a lot harder than he’d imagined, but there was no way he could have hidden her body. He’d been able to carry her head in a rucksack and shove it under the boathouse when it was still dark, just before daybreak, and there was no one around.

Megan got out and slammed the door shut, which really irritated him beyond belief.

‘Sorry, I forgot.’

And then she ran up the steps and went inside, leaving him sitting there contemplating his next move. He was so jealous that she had seen Annie close up today. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life. She had looked so tiny last night compared to that big brute she always seemed to be with. Her face had been a mask of horror when she’d seen the head. He’d watched the whole thing play out from the safety of the boat, which they’d moored on the lake, far enough away not to arouse suspicion but near enough that with a pair of binoculars they could watch everything that went on.

It had been quite unbelievable, really, that the copper had lost his hat and that it had ended up under the same boathouse as the head he’d dumped there in the early hours. If they hadn’t found it, the next thing on his list had been for Megan to use the unregistered pay-as-you-go mobile they had bought to phone the police and tell them she’d found a head. But they had been saved the unnecessary risk of the call being traced, which had been greatly in their favour.

Henry knew it was too soon to even think about taking Annie. He wasn’t ready, but he would have to do something to keep Megan happy. He would look for another victim while she was at work tomorrow, maybe one of the girls she worked with. And then he swore at himself. That would mean the police would be crawling all over the coffee shop and Megan – far too risky. It could be one of the customers, though; there must be some regulars who fitted Megan’s profile. He got out of the van to go inside and ask her what she thought. He was excited at the thought of killing again. He hadn’t thought it would be as enjoyable with an audience, but it was even better, and now both of them were as guilty as each other. It wouldn’t matter if they got caught. They were both equal now in the eyes of the law – both cold-blooded murderers.

***

After what took almost three times as long as if Annie had taken charge they finally left the rugby club. At least she’d taught George something valuable today. He would be able to put his knowledge to good use and know exactly how to treat someone who was very vulnerable and also deal with a break-in – probably the two most common jobs the police dealt with. They went back to get something for a late lunch at the deli. Cathy would probably be frothing at the mouth. She’d been waiting so long for some food, but there was nothing stopping her going into town for something.

Annie bought savoury cheese baguettes, salt and vinegar crisps and Cherry Cokes all round – the healthy option. Starting tomorrow she would have to watch what she was eating. She’d lost loads of weight without trying before the wedding because of Amelia, who had been Will’s dad’s housekeeper. She had turned out to be Will’s half sister who nobody knew existed. She had kidnapped Will so she could get some of his wealthy dad’s cash. But the weight was slowly creeping back on. Her work combat trousers were a little tighter this week than they had been last. After today she would dig out her old diet books and start again. Probably if she just cut down on the wine and all the home-cooked meals, that would do the trick, but there was something so nice about sitting in their cottage next to the wood-burning stove with a large glass of wine and Will. It almost made her want to sigh with contentment.

She parked outside the station and climbed out of the van, grabbing the carrier bag of food in one hand and tucking her hat under her other arm. They went inside and Cathy’s voice boomed down the corridor. ‘I hope to Christ you have something for me to eat because I’m chewing my own bloody arm off in here.’

George looked mortified and Annie stifled a giggle. ‘Yes, boss, we have.’

‘Well, come on, don’t be shy. Throw it my way.’

Annie walked down the short corridor to the end office, which was the inspector’s.

‘Sorry, we’ve been busy. Any luck finding the body?’

‘What do you think? Your boy wonder is on the case down in Barrow, though to be honest I wouldn’t be surprised if she had been killed there and just her head brought up here and dumped.’

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’ Cathy took a huge bite of her baguette, dropping cheese and salad cream all down her top. She scooped it up on her finger and popped it into her mouth. ‘If whoever did it is sick enough to take her in the first place and cut off her head, I don’t think it really matters why the fuck he did. In his own sick, twisted mind there is a reason for it and there’s a good chance we won’t have a bloody clue what makes him tick – unless your Will catches him. He is quite good at that sort of thing. Mind you, so are you. In fact my money would probably be on you catching him, only there’s a good chance you’d kill him. No mercy with you, is there?’

Cathy winked and Annie smiled.

‘I’m not a violent person. What are you trying to say? I’ve only ever used violence when it was a life or death situation.’

‘I know, but there’s only you who ever gets into life or death situations in the whole county of Cumbria. Relax, I’m only winding you up, but that’s why you’re on strict orders not to go near this case with a barge pole. Your husband will have me strung up, hunted down and shot if so much as a hair on your head gets harmed.’

‘Well, that’s very nice of you both, but you do know I’m quite capable of looking after myself and making my own decisions. It really pisses me off when everyone else decides what I can or can’t do.’

‘See what I mean? Perfect example of why you’re hard as nails, with that take-no-shit attitude. I love it, kid. Don’t ever let anyone wear you down so much that you are afraid to answer back. Now go show George how to do something useful with those statements. What had they taken from the rugby club?’

‘A case of King’s lager, a box of cheese and onion crisps and the charity tin off the bar.’

‘Kids. No self-respecting burglar would be seen dead carrying a case of that lager. Did you check the playground behind to see if our would-be burglars had a party and left behind all the evidence?’

‘Yes we did and it was clean, but I’m going to ring the council to see if anyone had been in to tidy it up first thing this morning.’

‘You know your talents are truly wasted being a response officer. Why don’t you sit your detective’s exam or your sergeant’s?’

‘Honestly, I can’t be bothered. I just want to do my shift and go home to my boy wonder.’ She winked at Cathy who laughed and almost choked on the last bite of her baguette.

‘I have to say that I probably would myself if I was married to him. It must be nice waking up to someone who doesn’t make you groan with disgust first thing in the morning.’

Annie left her to go and eat her dinner, write up her stuff, and then hopefully it would be time to go home.

31 December 1930

Every light in the Beckett house was burning bright; each and every room had been searched thoroughly. Nothing was left undisturbed. As the guests began to arrive they were greeted by Lucy, who informed them they were dreadfully sorry but Master Joseph had gone missing and the party was now cancelled. The men had insisted on coming in to help with the search and the women went in search of Martha’s mother, Eleanor, to comfort her and help in any way that they could. When the police finally arrived it was just as a group of six men were about to begin searching the gardens. They gathered everyone inside to listen to what had happened exactly before Joe had disappeared.

The policeman who had looked a little bit like her father had taken Martha to one side and knelt down on the floor to speak to her, and she told him exactly what she had told everyone else. That she heard Joe crying down in the cellar and then he was gone. Everyone was told to stay where they were while the police went to search the cellar. There was a lot of muttering amongst the men about time being wasted but none of them wanted to disobey the officers, so they stayed where they were. They finally came back upstairs and agreed there was no sign of him.

‘The only place he could have fallen is down into that drainpipe. Was the iron cover across it when you went down there the first time to look for him, Mr Beckett?’

‘Yes, it was. It wasn’t quite on the hole but it was covering it. My son is nine years old and if he did fall into it he would be screaming blue murder for us to rescue him. There is no way if he did go down there that he would have been able to move the cover and then put it back across. It’s a two-man job; it is so heavy.’

‘I need some volunteers. Regardless of his strength, if the last place he was seen was in the cellar then we need to send someone down into that hole.’

‘I’ll do it. He is my son.’

‘No, sir, I think it’s best if you stay here with your wife.’

Davey stepped forward. ‘I will do it, and I’ve been down there once before, last year when there was a blockage.’

The policeman nodded his head in approval. ‘Thank you; we will help you and watch you to make sure that you’re safe and then we can pull you back out after you’ve checked it out.’

Davey left the room followed by the two policemen and Martha watched as her mother began to crumple in front of her eyes. Mary and Lucy both walked over to her. Taking an arm each, they led her out of the crowded dining room and down towards the kitchen and Martha ran behind them.

‘Should I tell the guests to leave, ma’am?’

‘No. As much as I don’t want them here, if they don’t find Joe down in that hole we will need them to help search the gardens. I don’t want any stone unturned.’

‘Very well, ma’am. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘No, thank you, Mary. I think this is going to call for something much stronger than tea. Lucy, please will you get a bottle of sherry and pour me the biggest glass you can find.’

Eleanor looked at her daughter for the first time since Martha had told them she couldn’t find her brother and seemed to realise how upset she must be. She opened her arms and Martha ran to them. After clambering onto her knees, she buried her head in her mother’s chest and began to cry.

‘I’m so sorry we can’t find him. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Shh, Martha, come now. None of this is your fault. We’ll find him and when we do he will be in trouble for causing such a fuss.’

Martha felt her eyes getting heavy and before long she was drifting off to sleep and a place where Joe was still hiding in the attic waiting for her, and whatever it was that lived in the cellar hadn’t taken him away to eat him.

***

Davey led the way into the cellar followed by James Beckett, who had insisted on helping, and the two policemen – all of them with lamps burning brightly and illuminating the gloomy room. Which was no longer its usual tidy state because every box and piece of furniture had been pulled out and searched. James couldn’t tell them about the missing monster without Eleanor finding out that he’d disobeyed her wishes, and he didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. If they didn’t find Joe soon he would tell her and the police, but for now it was far more important to locate his son than a stolen fairground exhibit.

Davey led them to the large drain in the far corner and put his lamp down. James did the same and they both took hold of one end and strained to lift the cover to one side. The policemen looked at each other and nodded. They knew that if the boy was down there, and the cover had been in place, then there was no way he had got down there on his own, which meant some foul play was afoot. The cover dropped to the floor with a heavy clang, narrowly missing Davey’s feet.

Davey walked over to the hole and waved his lamp around. It didn’t look any different to any other time he’d looked into it. He knew there was a tunnel that led out from under the house to the lake, but it wasn’t that big and he would have to slither along on his belly to check the whole length of it, which he was glad to do. He liked the lad and didn’t want any harm to come to him. The thing was that, if by some miracle Joe had managed to get down here and go along the tunnel, it would be highly dangerous. There were rats and a couple of times Davey had seen something much bigger than a rat, but it never stayed in the same place long enough for him to actually see what it was. It moved too fast.

The tunnel eventually led out into the lake and he hoped to God they wouldn’t find the boy’s body in the morning, all dead and floating around. It made him shiver just thinking about it. He sat on the edge of the hole and swung his legs down. After jumping down into the blackness he landed on his feet but felt his hand brush against something large and cold. He screamed for Mr Beckett to pass him the lamp and he did. There was some movement as whatever it was brushed against him, but when the light was shone down there it had gone.

‘What’s the matter, Davey? Why did you scream? What’s down there?’

‘Sorry, sir, it was a rat, a bloody great rat. I hate them things. They give me the shivers.’

‘Can you see anything? Can you see Joe?’

He knelt down, his hands shaking so much that the light swayed as it cast shadows. Now on his hands and knees, he ignored the thick, black gunge underneath him, which squelched under his weight. Scared to look into the tunnel but even more scared not to, he forced himself to shine the light down there and felt relieved there was nothing in there. No sign of whatever had just touched him or the boy. Davey wasn’t sure whether this was a good or bad thing. He would have liked to have found Joe covered in muck and too terrified to move in case one of the rodents bit him.

‘Nothing. The tunnel is empty, sir. Do you want me to crawl down and see if Master Joseph has gone down and got stuck?’

‘If you can, Davey – I know this is difficult for you but it’s a matter of life and death. If for some reason he’s in there and has hurt himself…’

Mr Beckett’s breath caught in the back of his throat and his eyes welled with tears he would not shed, not in front of strangers. Davey nodded and, although terrified of what he might encounter, he began to crawl into the tunnel and forced himself to think of nothing other than finding the boy. It was hard work. The floor was wet and filled with God knows what. It stunk something terrible and it was hard to breathe without inhaling the foul smell.

He did his best to crawl as far as he could where the tunnel branched off into two. The one that went to the left was much narrower and he was glad that he couldn’t fit down it because that was where the eye-watering smell was coming from. The other tunnel also narrowed and Davey knew that if Joe was down here he was so far down he was never coming back. The boy had no lamp with him and, although he was an adventurous lad, Davey didn’t think he would venture down here in the pitch black just to avoid getting caught playing hide-and-seek.

So he began to move backwards, his breathing laboured with the exertion. He had to stop and rest a minute. It was when he was perfectly still and resting that he heard the noise. It was coming from the much narrower tunnel and it struck the fear of God into him. It sounded like scratching and the clicking of claws, very big claws, and it was heading up the tunnel to meet him. Panic taking over, he began to move himself backwards as fast as he could until he felt his legs dangle over the lip of the tunnel, and with one final shove he pushed himself out of the tunnel and back into the hole where the policemen were leaning over, shining lamps onto him. He had never been so glad to see a copper in all his life, and he shook his head.

‘He’s not down here. Pull me out.’

They reached in and grabbed his arms and he felt himself yanked up just as something reached out of the tunnel to grab at his foot. He felt the air swoosh around it and he let out a scream. He clambered out of the hole as fast as he could and fell onto the floor in a sticky, smelly mess.

‘What’s the matter with you, man? Are you scared of your own shadow?’

‘No, sir, I just don’t like rats. Horrible creatures they are and I think there is a big one down there. We need to come back tomorrow and set some traps – try and catch it. We don’t want it coming up here.’

‘Is there any sign that Joe has been down there, Davey?’

‘None at all, sir – I’m really sorry. I was hoping he’d gone in and got scared and was waiting to be rescued, but the tunnel was empty as far as I could see, and I crawled along until it narrowed and isn’t big enough for anyone to get down.’

James stood up. ‘Right then. We need to start searching the gardens and boathouse. He may have gone outside and fallen. He could have broken an ankle or knocked himself out. We need to sort out search teams and send them to cover a section each.’

‘Very wise decision, Mr Beckett – you have a few volunteers upstairs. It’s a good job you didn’t send your guests home because we are going to need all the help we can get. How big are the grounds?’

‘Two acres, an acre of landscaped gardens and then there’s the wood to the back, which leads up to the main road. Davey, thank you for going down there; I know it wasn’t an easy task. Go and get yourself cleaned up and get a hot drink from Mary, and then will you help to search? You know the grounds better than anyone.’

‘Of course I will, sir; Master Joseph has a den in the woods. I would check there first. He uses it when he wants to play soldiers with his friends.’

‘Why didn’t you say something before? He could be in there now.’

‘Because it’s dark and cold, it’s been raining. He doesn’t use it in the winter. I asked him just yesterday how his den was holding up and he told me it had been leaking with all the rain and he hadn’t been out there for weeks. Asked me if I’d help him make it waterproof when the weather turned better. I didn’t think he would go out there in the dark.’