Page 11 of Gone in the Night (Detective Morgan Brookes #16)
ELEVEN
The house had security gates that were taller than Cain, and he had to press the intercom to ask if they could be let in. As they watched the gates opening, he whistled. ‘Those gates cost more than our annual salary.’
Morgan shrugged. ‘All the money in the world isn’t going to make any difference to what we’re about to tell them.’
‘I suppose not.’
The house was fairly new, all slate and beechwood with huge floor-to-ceiling windows on the ground and first floor.
Through the windows, they could see that the huge chandelier that hung down from the open-plan first floor was the most beautiful cut glass, the droplets the size of the palm of Morgan’s hand.
They got out of the car, and Cain whispered, ‘I don’t think I can do it.’
She tried not to glare at him. Smoothing down the non-existent creases in her three-quarter, black trousers she straightened up. The front door swung open and a woman in an actual maid’s uniform was standing there, giving them the once-over.
‘Don’t speak, Cain, it’s safer for us both this way.’
He didn’t disagree. They walked towards the open door, boots crunching on the gravel drive. The maid looked mildly annoyed at being inconvenienced, and she was still glaring at them.
‘Hi, we’re Detectives Brookes and Robson from Rydal Falls police station. Are Mr and Mrs Montgomery home?’
Morgan spied the Porsche 4x4 and the Mercedes convertible out of the corner of one eye.
‘Yes, what do you want with them? Have you any ID?’
Morgan tugged her lanyard out of her jacket and showed the woman her warrant card.
Cain was fumbling in his pockets for his.
He looked at Morgan with a mild hint of panic in his eyes and then he pulled out the small white plastic card with his picture on it and thrust it towards the woman.
She studied first the warrant cards and then their faces, scrutinising them.
‘I’ve got better looking since they took that. You could say I’ve aged well.’
Morgan couldn’t even look in his direction and thought if she could have punched him in the arm to shut him up, she would have. Thankfully, the maid was trying not to smile at him, and Cain grinned at her.
‘Marie, what are you doing? Who is that at the door?’ a man’s voice called down the hallway.
‘Sorry, sir, I was just checking these visitors were who they claimed they were.’
Footsteps echoed off the polished black and gold flecked marble tiles, and Morgan sucked in a breath as the man who was peering over Marie’s shoulder smiled at her. She smiled back.
‘Who are you?’
‘We’re detectives, is it okay to come in and speak to you?’ Before she’d even spoken, she’d run through a list of words that were suitable, chat and talk didn’t give off how serious their visit was.
The guy she assumed was Sharon’s dad arched an eyebrow at her, a bit like Ben did at times when he was winding her up.
‘Am I in trouble? Did I drive too fast through the village? Was my music too loud when we were out sailing on the lake? Don’t tell me the neighbours have complained about the noise from the barbeque we had at the weekend.
’ His smile was infectious, and his brilliant white teeth were perfect, definitely not Turkey teeth.
These were expensive veneers. He was wearing faded denim jeans and a black linen shirt.
Morgan liked him and this made her feel even worse for what she was about to do.
‘I’m afraid not, can we come inside?’
‘Oh, this is serious then. Yes, of course, come in.’
Marie stepped backwards to let them in, and he turned to walk down the huge, long entrance.
He pushed open a door which led into a stunning home office, which made her feel more than a little envious of the lifestyle the Montgomerys led.
The bookshelves were floor to ceiling and the desk filled an entire wall.
There was a huge black suede sofa, and he pointed to it.
‘Please, take a seat. Can I get you guys a drink?’
Morgan shook her head. ‘No, thanks. Is Mrs Montgomery here? It would be best if we could speak to you both at the same time.’
He smiled at her, turned around and said, ‘Just a moment.’ He took out his phone and dialled his wife, who answered immediately.
‘Make your own lunch or better still get Marie to do something useful for once.’
‘The police are here; they want to talk to us both.’
There was a slight pause.
‘Oh, okay I’ll be right in.’
The line went dead.
‘She’s out in the garden; it’s her baby. She spends all her spare time out there, won’t have a gardener for love or money. She reckons it keeps her fit and busy.’
‘Yes, it does, and it saves money too.’ The voice was clearly a lot less well-spoken than her husband’s.
Mrs Montgomery was wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants, a white T-shirt that had mud stains on the front and a belt around her waist with an assortment of gardening tools tucked into it.
She stood next to her husband and looked at them on the sofa.
‘Are we in trouble?’ She reached out her hand and shook both Morgan’s then Cain’s. ‘I’m Beth Montgomery and the funny guy is Stefan, my husband and part-time comedy act.’
Morgan shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. Are you Sharon Montgomery’s parents?’
The woman glanced at Stefan, a quick side eye, then she looked at Morgan. ‘Yes, we are. Is Sharon in trouble?’
Morgan wished an alien spacecraft would hover above the house and send a beam of light down to whisk her away from this uncomfortable situation.
‘I’m afraid we have some terrible news for you. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this.’
Beth held up a hand to stop her from speaking. ‘Don’t say it, if you don’t say it out loud then it isn’t true.’
Stefan’s arm had snaked around Beth’s waist, and he was holding her tight. He nodded at Morgan to continue.
‘A body was discovered this morning in a roof tent that was parked up on the top of the narrow coffin road that leads up to Southern Fell, did Sharon mention she may be doing this?’
Beth was shaking her head. ‘She never mentioned it.’
Morgan took out her phone and showed Beth a picture of the Land Rover.
‘Is this Sharon’s?’
‘Yes, it is. I don’t understand why you’re here though.’
Morgan tried to keep her voice gentle. ‘We believe the body we found inside of the tent is Sharon. I’m so, so sorry.’
Beth’s legs seemed to give way, and she slumped onto the leather desk chair next to her.
Stefan looked as dazed as Beth did. ‘How do you know it’s Sharon?’
Morgan looked down at her notebook then read out the registration number of the purple Land Rover. ‘Sharon’s driving licence was under her pillow. I also checked her Instagram account.’
Beth looked up at Stefan, her eyes wide and brimming with tears that were about to fall. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
‘How did she die, assuming this woman is our daughter?’
Morgan wished she hadn’t told Cain to keep quiet now. As if sensing her distress, he softly pushed his knee into hers then said, ‘I’m afraid she was murdered.’ He paused, letting the information sink in.
Stefan was shaking his head. ‘No, sorry. This is just not possible. Why would someone murder her? Are you sure you have the right woman? Show me a picture, please, and we can tell you if you’ve made a mistake.
I mean it happens all the time, doesn’t it?
I’m not saying you’re both incompetent, but mistakes do get made like this. ’
Morgan agreed. ‘Yes, on the rare occasion they do. Which is why we would like one or both of you to go to the mortuary to identify the woman we believe is Sharon. I’m so, so, sorry.’
‘Why can’t you show us a photo of her face now?’
Beth stood up and almost snarled at him. ‘Because it must be too bad, that’s why. How did she die? What did they do to her?’
‘It was violent. She was stabbed multiple times.’
Beth let out a sob, this time bending over double as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Stefan carried on shaking his head. Morgan looked at Cain, then back at the Montgomerys.
‘I’m sorry. Are you able to come to the mortuary with us, now?’
The only sound in the room was Beth’s gentle sobs. She managed to whisper, ‘Yes.’
‘I’ll let them know you’re on the way,’ Morgan said.
Cain excused himself and went outside to phone the mortuary, to tell them they were setting off. Morgan thought that the Montgomerys had every reason to hope and pray that they’d got it wrong, that they hadn’t come to tell them the most terrible news of their lives.
There was a small niggle of doubt about them though. Were they as happy as they made out? Almost everyone had secrets, and she wondered if they did too.