Page 37 of Worse Than Murder (DCI Matilda Darke Thriller #13)

F or the first time since my arrival, I’m the first one up.

Usually, I’m woken by the constant calls from Sally to Carl to get out of bed and dressed to get to school on time.

This morning, I don’t have a lie-in. I usually spend so long trying to get to sleep in the first place, and when I do, my sleep is disturbed by dark dreams. So, by the time it’s morning, and actually time to get up, I’m physically shattered.

This morning, however, is different. I have a reason for getting out of bed. I have a task.

I pull up outside Lynne and Iain’s house in the Porsche and look at the cottage.

The after-effects of the storm are evident in the neighbourhood and Lynne is busy cleaning the inside of the new living room window as I walk up the path.

We make eye contact and Lynne’s face falls.

She opens the door before I have a chance to knock.

‘Good morning,’ I say, proffering what I hope is a natural, friendly smile.

Lynne nods. ‘I know Alison has spoken to you; asked you to look into what happened to her sisters, but…’ She pauses and takes a breath. ‘I’ve been told not to speak to you.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. I’m sorry.’

‘Who by?’

Lynne looks down.

‘Who is it?’ Iain calls out as he comes from the kitchen into the hallway. ‘Oh. Hello. You’re Matilda Drake, aren’t you?’

‘Darke,’ I correct him.

‘Sorry. Yes.’ He places a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders. ‘I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. Inspector Forsyth has told us not to talk to you.’

‘Has she? Did she give any reason?’

‘Given that a car has been found and… the items found with it appear to point to the fact that Celia and Jennifer may be in there, Inspector Forsyth said it’s an active investigation and any outside help might muddy the waters.’

‘I can understand that,’ I say, placating the couple, despite wanting to tell them that Gill’s excuse is complete bollocks.

‘However, I’ve spoken to Alison and she’s really struggling with what’s going on.

She’s placed her trust in me, and I like her.

I’d really like to help.’ I’m laying it on thick, but if it gets me over the threshold, I don’t care.

‘I don’t… know,’ Lynne hesitates.

She’s weakening.

‘If I could come in for five minutes. I promise I won’t pry; I won’t make waves. I only want to ask a few questions.’

‘I really don’t think…’

‘It’s just a couple of questions, Iain,’ Lynne interrupts.

‘But Inspector Forsyth…’

‘Will never need to know,’ I finish his sentence for him.

Lynne looks up at her husband with pleading eyes. Eventually he relents. Lynne stands to one side and allows me to enter.

‘Thank you,’ I say, as the door is closed behind me.

I’m shown into the kitchen. Lynne apologises for the state of the living room. The carpet has been taken up and is now in a mushy pile in the back garden. The sofa has been pushed to one side and is waiting to be professionally cleaned.

I sit at the small table while Lynne goes to the kettle and flicks it on.

‘Did you buy any more teabags?’ she asks.

‘They’re in the bag in the hall. I didn’t get time to put them away.’

Lynne leaves the kitchen.

Iain leans over me. ‘Please don’t upset my wife,’ he says, quietly.

‘I’m not here to upset anyone.’

‘She’s been through a lot over the years.’

‘I’m aware. I’m doing this for Alison.’

He nods and returns to his position by the sink as Lynne comes back into the kitchen, breaking the seal on a box of Yorkshire Tea bags.

Drinks made, Lynne sits opposite me. She looks nervous, as if she’s worried about what I’m going to reveal.

‘What can you tell me about Travis Montgomery?’ I begin.

Lynne recoils. She looks to Iain. It’s clear neither of them expects me to begin with Travis.

‘He was a good man. He was very good to this family,’ Lynne says.

‘He worked with you and Jack on the farm, Alison was telling me.’ I turn to Iain.

Iain nods. ‘My father employed him as casual help. When he died, Travis stayed on. He helped us transform the whole site. We couldn’t have done it without him.’

‘What was he like?’

‘He was a good bloke. Not afraid of hard work, and it was hard work, believe me. We were out in all weathers.’

‘He wasn’t local, was he?’

‘No. He came up from…’ He screws his face up as he thinks. ‘I want to say Liverpool?’

‘It was Liverpool,’ Lynne confirms.

‘You knew him well?’ I ask Lynne.

Lynne glares at me. Tears fill her eyes. She remains deathly silent. It’s clear she’s struggling with something. ‘We all knew him,’ she says, her words loaded with emotion.

I glance between Lynne and Iain. I have a feeling I’m not going to get the full story with them both present. They’re hiding things from each other. Or maybe they have a shared secret they’re worried might accidently be revealed.

‘He left not long after Jack disappeared, didn’t he?’ I ask. ‘Why was that? I thought he’d have been needed then more than ever.’

Iain looks uncomfortable. He moves away from his wife and rests against the worktop. ‘He told me he needed to leave. The atmosphere was heavy. Understandable, considering, but Travis said he was struggling with it. He was sorry to leave us in the lurch, but he felt he had to go.’

‘Did you ask him to stay?’

‘Of course. The stables were still in their infancy. I needed all the help I could get. With Jack… well, with him going like that, I really needed Travis.’

‘Yet he still decided to leave?’

Iain shrugs. ‘He didn’t owe us anything. He wasn’t family, and he was only young. It was only supposed to be a temporary job for a few months. He’d already stayed longer than planned.’

‘Did you have any contact with him after he’d gone?’

‘No. This was in the days before mobile phones and social media. We thanked him for everything he’d done, didn’t we?’ He looks to Lynne.

‘Yes. I cooked him a goodbye meal,’ she smiles, though her face shows she’s on the edge of tears. ‘We were trying to be normal, but it was horrible.’

‘Why was it horrible?’

‘There should have been seven of us around that table,’ Iain says. ‘There were only three. None of us wanted to address what we were all thinking, but it was difficult to ignore.’

‘Three? Where was Alison?’ I ask.

‘She was staying with my sister and brother-in-law for a while,’ Lynne says.

I nod my understanding. ‘Did you ever hear from Travis again?’

‘No,’ Lynne answers.

‘Not until his father got in touch around Christmas,’ Iain adds.

‘He said he was missing, that he hadn’t returned home.

The police came up here from Liverpool for us to give a statement.

We told them what we’ve just told you. He left, planning to go back home, and that’s where we thought he’d gone.

He gave no indication that he was going elsewhere. ’

‘He was only young, wasn’t he?’

‘Twenty-six,’ Lynne quickly answers.

‘Did he and Jack get on?’

‘Yes. We all did,’ Iain says. ‘We worked closely together every single day. Travis lived in this house with me and Dad.’

‘Did either of you ever suspect that he might have been involved in Celia and Jennifer’s disappearance?’

‘I told you what happened,’ Lynne says, her voice quiet.

‘I know you did. I’m just wondering, with Travis going missing not long after Jack, if they both might have…’ I struggle with how to say this tactfully. ‘Was it possible they were both involved in the twins’ disappearance?’

Lynne’s mouth falls open. ‘What? No,’ she says, the tears falling down her face. ‘No. Not my girls. Please. Don’t tell me they were both… no. Not that.’

‘I really think you should leave,’ Iain says, jumping to his wife’s aid and putting his arms firmly around her shoulders. ‘You’re upsetting Lynne.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset anyone. It’s just… there are far too many loose ends here and, with Travis’s car being at the bottom of the lake yet it not being reported stolen or missing, I find it odd that nobody has ever looked into this.’

‘We were all busy… distracted,’ Iain says.

‘With the girls missing, we didn’t know what day it was.

We were all frantically searching everywhere to try and find them.

Then… Jack told me… shit,’ he says. ‘I can’t go through all this again.

’ He stands up and goes over to the kitchen sink, looking out of the window.

‘My brother. He was my brother. I looked up to him. I wanted… why? How?’

I watch the both of them in silence as they fall apart, still struggling to understand the horror, thirty years later.

‘The police investigation thirty years ago: looking back, do you think it was a thorough investigation? Do you think everything was done to find Celia and Jennifer?’

Lynne looks up at her. ‘I… I don’t know. I assume everything was done correctly.’

Iain turns back from the window. He wipes his eyes. ‘The police turned this county upside down trying to find them. Inspector Bell worked round the clock.’

‘What are you saying?’ Lynne asks me.

‘Right now, I’m not sure. But I’m finding myself asking more and more questions, and I don’t know how to find the answers. This Inspector Bell, is he still alive?’

‘Yes. He still lives in the village. He doesn’t go out much,’ Lynne says. ‘You might want to speak to Gill about it first, though. I’m guessing he’ll have told her all about it.’

‘Why?’

‘Well… Gill is Inspector Bell’s daughter. I thought you knew.’

Did I hear that right? ‘Gill is the daughter of Lionel Bell?’

‘Yes. Sorry. I thought you’d have known. I don’t know why, sorry,’ Lynne says.

‘I asked Gill about Lionel. I asked her if he was still alive, and I recommended she question him. She never said.’

‘Ah. No. She wouldn’t,’ Iain says.

‘Why not?’

‘She’s sort of ashamed.’

‘In what way?’

‘Of the way Lionel left the police force.’

‘How did he leave?’

Iain retakes his seat next to Lynne. ‘He was forced into taking early retirement. Back in the day, there was a much bigger police force here than there is now, and there were two inspectors: Lionel and Inspector Gideon Oliver. Gideon was diagnosed with stomach cancer. It tore through his entire body. Obviously, he had to give up work, but he couldn’t afford not to work.

The whole village had a big whip-round. We held all kinds of events to raise money for him.

Unfortunately, Gideon died while we were raising it.

Next thing, the money is discovered sitting there in Lionel’s bank account.

He was forced to retire. He’s been a social pariah around here ever since. ’

‘That can’t have been easy for Gill.’

‘No. Why do you think she goes by her mother’s maiden name?’

‘But you said yourself, it’s a small village. Everyone will know who her father is.’

‘They do. But Gill is a good woman. They don’t judge her by what her father did.’

Lynne has been silent while me and Iain have been talking about Gill and her father. She looks up and takes a deep, unsteady breath.

‘Were Jack and Travis abusing my babies?’ Her voice is heavily charged with dark emotion, but it’s quiet, barely more than a whisper.

Iain tightens his hold on his wife.

‘I really don’t know, Lynne. The only people who can tell us that are both missing.’

‘But… now the bodies have been found, they can do tests, can’t they? Postmortems.’

‘They’ve been under water possibly for thirty years. Any trace evidence will have long gone by now.’

‘I’ll never know the truth, will I?’

‘We’ve got them back, Lynne,’ Iain says, hugging her, resting his head on her shoulders. ‘We’ve got them back. That’s all that matters.’

‘Iain’s right.’ I reach across and place a hand on top of hers. ‘You can lay them to rest. You can have a place to go and talk to them.’

Lynne nods. She tries to smile, but it won’t come.

I push my chair back and stand up. ‘I should go. I’m sorry for upsetting you, but I’ve been in this job long enough to know that people can never fully rest until the truth is revealed, no matter how difficult it is to hear.’

‘Sometimes the truth is better left buried,’ Iain says.

‘I don’t agree. Lies hurt more than the truth. I speak from experience. I’ll see myself out.’

I’m almost at the door when my name is called. I turn and see Lynne standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

‘Promise me,’ Lynne begins. ‘Promise me you won’t tell Alison any of this.’

‘Alison is a very intelligent woman. If she asks me a question and I tell her I don’t know, she’s going to know it’s a lie. I can’t promise she won’t find out, but I can promise that I will protect her as much as possible.’