Читать книгу The Girls In The Woods - Helen Phifer - Страница 18

Chapter 7

Jo hurried home; she’d been far too long and he would be furious with her, but it had been worth it. Annie seemed lovely; it was so nice to speak to another woman. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been out for coffee, it felt so civilised and made her realise exactly how crap her life was when going out for a coffee felt like a huge adventure. As she opened her front door she kept her fingers crossed that he wasn’t waiting for her. She was in such a great mood for the first time in months. It would be just like him to be waiting behind the front door to spoil it all. It was almost too good to be true – he was nowhere to be seen and she felt her shoulders relax as she let out a long sigh of relief. Closing the door as quietly as possible she kicked off her shoes and walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on. As she leant over the sink to fill the kettle she saw flashes of bright yellow moving around in the woods behind the cottage. The cold tap began to squirt water all down her top as the kettle overflowed. She jumped back away from the window, grabbing a tea towel to dry herself. Her heart was racing. What were the police doing in the woods? She had no idea why she felt so nervous but she did. In all the years she’d lived in the village she could count the number of times she’d seen a police officer on one hand – and now there were at least six of them at the back of her house. Her first thoughts were that he’d done something really bad, but then she scolded herself. He only did the bad stuff to her, didn’t he? He was a perfect gentleman to everyone else, especially his clients. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise what he thought was his perfect life – why would he? But still she felt uneasy.

She made him a mug of tea, checking in the mirror to make sure she didn’t look a complete mess as she walked towards his workshop and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so she knocked again a little louder and this time she heard him swear. The door was thrown open and he looked her up and down in disgust.

‘What are the rules, Jo?’

Before she could answer his left hand had slapped her across the cheek, jolting her arm so she spilt steaming hot tea all down herself.

‘Never to disturb you when you’re working… but I think you should know there are a lot of police officers in the woods out the back. What do you think they are doing there?’

His normally ruddy complexion paled, far too quickly for her liking – making her wonder what it was he was hiding, or what it was he did in there when he locked himself away. He pushed past her and ran to the kitchen to take a look outside. She followed him and he leant forward to get a better view of what they were doing. Picking up the tea towel she dabbed at the now tea-stained white shirt she was wearing.

‘I don’t know what they are doing – what am I, psychic all of a sudden?’

His voice was much quieter and it wavered, just a notch. He kicked his slippers off and pulled on a pair of black wellington boots, grabbing his jacket off the coat peg by the back door. He opened it and went outside. She watched him, intrigued as to why he was so worried. He headed towards the nearest officer and she felt sick. He would be so polite to the policewoman who was standing there. He wouldn’t dare to be disrespectful towards her, let alone raise his hand and slap her.

He went out of the back door knowing fine well what they were doing – somehow, after all this time, they had found the grave. He needed to know if they knew much or were just as shocked as he was. He approached them as if he had every right to be there; never show your fear, he told himself over and over.

‘Excuse me, officer, I live in that cottage there. I was wondering if everything is okay?’

The officer held up her hand to stop him from going any further.

‘Sorry, sir, I can’t really say – and this whole area is now a crime scene so you’ll have to go back inside.’

‘No, of course you can’t, but can you tell me if I should be worried – is it bad? I don’t want to leave my wife alone in the house if it’s anything we should be worried about.’

She looked around to see who was in hearing distance and lowered her voice.

‘Well, I’m not supposed to say anything but you’ll hear soon enough and officers will want to come and speak to you both anyway. A group of school kids out hiking found a skeleton this morning, buried in the woods. We’re just waiting for the bosses and crime scene investigators to get here.’

His hand flew to his mouth in what he hoped was a convincing attempt at shock.

‘Oh, dear God, that’s awful. I can’t believe it. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Not really. The best thing you can do is to go back inside until one of the detectives comes to see you for a chat.’

‘Yes, yes, of course. I can’t believe it. If any of you need anything just give us a knock; my wife will be in all day. I might have to go into Barrow on an errand.’

He didn’t know whether he wanted to be there when the police came knocking, in case they could pick something up from his body language – like how guilty he was. But he supposed that they would want to talk to him at some point and it might be better to just get it over with and hope that they’d think he was just shocked at their discovery. After what seemed like forever he turned and walked back to the house. Kicking off his boots he shut the door and turned the key in the lock, shrugging off his jacket at the same time.

‘What did she say. Is it bad?’

‘She wouldn’t say – just said there was a serious incident and they were sealing off the area until CID got there. She said the police will want to come and speak to us at some point.’

‘Well, as long as no one has been hurt.’

He looked at her and frowned, staring at the fading red mark on her cheek. She knew he was hoping it would disappear before the police came knocking on their door wanting to speak to them both. He went back into the workshop, locking the door, and she sat down at the kitchen table relieved that whatever he was doing meant he was out of her way.

Thirty minutes later he was back; she inhaled and caught a whiff of strong lemon cleaning fluid. She was sitting at the kitchen table reading a magazine and jumped as he walked in, expecting him to shout at her for sitting there wasting time, but he never said a word. He locked up the workshop and went out of the back door to make sure the windows and outside door which led to it were also locked. He came back in and smiled at her.

‘Why don’t you make us a nice cup of coffee and we’ll put a film on? We haven’t watched that one with that man you like out of that women’s film yet.’

He meant The King’s Speech and the women’s film he was referring to was Bridget Jones. She nodded, knowing fine well what his game was. He was playing happy families so that when the police came they wouldn’t think anything strange of the married couple who lived in the house near the edge of the woods. If only they knew the truth – but she’d never say anything. She daren’t. She hadn’t when he’d pushed her down the four steps into the garden; that had cost him a trip to the accident and emergency department whilst her ankle was x-rayed then put into plaster. He’d never left her side the whole time but he needn’t have worried; she had nowhere to go if she had asked them for help. She couldn’t leave him if she wanted to.

It was almost two hours later that the knock finally came on their front door, and it was Jo who stood up to go and answer it. She could see two men through the small glass pane in the front door. Opening it, she looked at the two men, both wearing suits with ID badges around their necks. She felt drawn to the older, much better looking one and smiled.

‘Hello, sorry to bother you. I’m Detective Sergeant Will Ashworth and this is Detective Constable Stuart Miles. Would you mind if we came in to talk to you?’

She smiled at him. He had such nice, kind blue eyes… in fact he had nice everything.

‘Of course. This way.’

As he followed her in she got a whiff of his aftershave, which was lovely. It reminded her of Dr Miller. He always smelt good when they’d been dating and whenever she’d gone for an appointment. She led them into the living room, where Heath was in the process of building up the wood burner, even though it wasn’t particularly cold. Her eyes looked at the coal dust which now covered his hands. He never got them so dirty, ever. He was very particular about his hands and always wore gloves when he did anything that might involve getting them dirty.

‘This is my husband, Heath.’

Will nodded at the man, and lifted his hand to shake Heath’s but then looked at them and smiled. Heath looked down at his hands too.

‘Sorry, I’m a bit dirty.’

Will repeated his introduction.

‘I suppose you wouldn’t be able to help but notice all the police activity out the back. I’m afraid to say there’s been a bit of a gruesome discovery in the woods this morning. A group of teenagers found an unmarked grave containing a body – well, a skeleton to be exact – so we just need to ask you a few routine questions.’

Jo gasped.

‘A skeleton! Oh, my God – that’s awful. Has it been there a long time?’

She was thinking that it might be really old, maybe even a couple of hundred years old.

‘We can’t really say, to tell you the truth. It’s not our field of expertise. But it looks as if it’s been buried out there for quite a few years. We’re just waiting on the pathologist and a forensic anthropologist who will be able to tell us a lot more. Can you tell me how long you’ve lived here?’

Heath spoke before his wife could open her mouth.

‘Twenty-three years.’

‘Have you ever noticed anyone or anything suspicious in the woods out the back?’

‘No, nothing at all – but then again, we do have a very limited view. Would you like to come and take a look?’

Heath stood up and Will nodded at Stu to go with him; Will didn’t miss the look he gave to his wife. He waited until they had left the room.

‘I can imagine that this must be a bit of a shock for you. It’s not the sort of thing you want to happen near your house, is it?’

‘It is… I mean, it’s terrible. You don’t expect things like that to happen right on your own doorstep. The poor thing. How awful being buried out there in the middle of nowhere and left for years. What must the family be going through?’

‘It is horrible, isn’t it, but whoever it is could have been there a very long time. Do you go out there much?’

‘No, not really. I love living here but I don’t go into the woods on my own. To be honest I find them a little bit creepy. They’re far too quiet for me.’

Will smiled, encouraging her.

‘What about your husband. Does he spend much time out there?’

‘Oh no, he’s far too busy with his work to think about going out and actually relaxing. He spends all his time in his studio.’

Heath walked back in, followed by Stu, and she shut up, not even looking at him – instead she lowered her head. Will had picked up on the body language as soon as he’d walked in but this just confirmed it, that and the fear that had crept into her eyes. He felt his knuckles begin to clench. He looked at the man, who was well built but not fat and would make a good rugby player. He took an instant dislike to him. Will hated men who hit their partners with a passion and he would bet a full month’s wages that this prick hit the much smaller woman sitting opposite him.

‘I’m a photographer so I work long hours; I do a lot of wedding photographs, portraits, proms, school photos… that sort of thing. I like to develop them all myself. I much prefer using film than digital, although it does have its uses. Neither of us really goes out into the woods, which is a shame because they really are beautiful and right on our doorstep.’

‘Do you remember who you bought the house from? We might need to speak to them, providing we find out how long our body has been buried out there.’

‘It was an elderly couple, I’m not even sure if they’ll still be alive now but I do have their names and address somewhere. The only thing is it might take me some time to locate them.

‘That’s fine. If you could have a look and give me a call when you do I’d really appreciate it.’

Will was looking at the woman the whole time he was speaking; he pulled a business card from his pocket. The man stepped forward to take it from him but Will pushed it into the woman’s hands before her husband could reach it. He let his hand linger on hers for a touch longer than he normally would and then he looked into her eyes.

‘That’s my mobile number. You can call me when you find them. Any time, day or night, don’t worry about it. If you remember anything or need to tell me something and I don’t answer just leave me a message and I’ll get straight back to you.’

Stu frowned at Will, not sure what was happening. Then Will stood up and Stu followed; Will turned to the man, whose face was a touch redder than it had been moments ago.

‘Thank you for your time. I’m sorry to have bothered you. We won’t know for some time yet who it is or how long they’ve been buried out there but we’ll keep in touch.’

The man nodded and led them to the front door; as they left the room Jo rushed across to the sideboard. Scribbling the number off the card onto a bright pink Post-it note, she then tucked it as far down into the inside of her jeans pocket as it would go. Rushing back, she threw herself onto the sofa, still clutching the business card in her hand. He stormed back in; snatching it off her, he crumpled it up then pitched it at the fire and she watched as it began to smoulder and then burst into a tiny ball of flames.

‘What a smarmy bastard he was. I hate nosy coppers. If he wants to speak to us he can bloody well come here. I’m not wasting my breath or my money phoning him… and what did he think he was doing holding your hand like that? I’ve a good mind to go out there and knock his head off.’

She flinched at his outburst, waiting for the open-handed slap that would normally accompany such behaviour… but it never came. He was far too distracted and stomped out of the living room back to his workshop, leaving her cowering on the sofa, her hand tucked into her pocket protecting the small piece of paper which might just have the answer to all her prayers written across it. That nice detective had sensed something was wrong and he might be able to help her should she need to escape.

***

As they got outside Stu looked at Will.

‘I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, boss, or overstepping my mark – but just what exactly was that? That lingering touch and “you can call me any time you like”. I thought you were a happily married man.’

Will stopped dead in his tracks and turned to dead-eye Stu.

‘Don’t be an idiot, Stu. I can’t believe you just said that – in fact, don’t even go there. Can’t you see the facts when they’re right in front of your eyes?’

‘What, what facts are you talking about?’

‘I don’t know what the hell is going on with the skeleton – for all we know that could have been there a hundred years – but I do know that it’s pretty obvious that the bloke back there likes to show how much of a man he is by beating his wife.’

‘What? How could you know that from the whole ten-minute conversation we had back there? Don’t tell me you’re a psychic genius as well as your wife.’

‘Because of her body language. She practically shrivelled into herself when he walked in the room. Then there was the fact that she had pale blue bruising under her eye which she’d tried to cover with face powder and she was terrified of him. When he came back in the room you could almost feel the fear which radiated from her, and she never looked up once when he was in the room or made eye contact with either of us.’

‘Really? I never noticed.’

‘If there is one thing I hate more than anything in this world, it’s weak, pathetic men who feel they have to take their problems out on their wives with their fists. Do me a favour Stu and go find someone else to irritate for an hour because I can’t be bothered with you right now.’

Will walked away from him, leaving Stu staring after him, shocked at his boss’s tantrum. Then, realising he’d been a complete idiot and so wrong it would be hard to put it right, he hurried after Will – trying his best to think of all the ways he could make it up to him.