Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) (26 page)

Watching, he saw Anderton flinch at the names of Sheverill and Hillsdown.

‘So let’s get this sorted out quick. I’ve got a date tonight and I don’t need this crap. Now then, Sheverill and Hillsdown were arrested on the same charge, the big daddy, Treason.’

Anderton grunted, his chin sinking down to his chest.

‘And let’s be clear, Treason means a neck stretching, and don’t give me the old bollocks that hanging’s been abolished because I’ve already had that shit from the other two idiots, and what you clowns didn’t realise, was this game would end up being a Cardinal job, and Cardinal has its own rules.’

He let Anderton think about it.

‘So c’mon, what’s it going to be, an honest statement that let’s our masters give you an easy way out, or shall I knock up another coffin, but make your mind up quick, I’m out of here in ten minutes.’

Anderton slouched, ‘But I don’t know what you want me to say?’

Frank was now walking on eggshells, and if Anderton guessed he didn’t know anything, he’d just clam up, so all he could do was play it by ear.

‘Anderton, if you really want to know the truth, you’ve been set up as the ring leader, so it won’t make any difference whatever you say, and let’s face it, you’re finished.’

His head jerked up, ‘But that ain’t right, I only took the pics, ask Sheverill.’

Frank felt the zing. Anderton was talking. But he was now in unknown territory, so all he could do was follow the story and try to out-guess Anderton as it went along.

‘Ask Sheverill? Are you having a laugh?’

‘No. Why? What’s wrong with that?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. You see, your friend Sheverill is now a wind chime.’

‘A what?’

‘He’s dead, you arsehole. I hanged him yesterday, over in the woods.’

Anderton began to shake, ‘But I only took the pics.’

‘So you say, but the trouble is, Hillsdown’s already said you organised it all.’

‘What? But he can’t get away with that.’

‘Oh really. Well if you believe that, you’re an even bigger dummy than I thought. Jesus, can’t you see … He’s the main copper on site, so who are people going to believe, a Chief Inspector, or you. There’s no contest, you idiot. So if you let him, he’ll sit back and let you carry the can, and I’ll have to take you for a walk in the woods.’

Anderton twitched, ‘But that’s not right, he made me help him.’

‘Well I guessed that, dopey, you’re too stupid to think this up on your own, but I’ve got to hand it to him, he must have figured you out from the start, and it probably seemed like a good idea to have an idiot in the team, just to take the blame if it all went wrong.’

‘But it wasn’t my idea. What would I do with the photos, where would I sell them? No, it was Sheverill and that bastard Hillsdown, they worked it out between them.’

Frank hadn’t expected it to be this easy, Anderton was gushing like a sewer, but as he didn’t know what this talk of photos really meant, all he could do was bluff it out.

‘Anderton. Don’t go on about the damned photos, we’ve got all that under control, but what I don’t understand, is why they thought they could lay the blame entirely on you? So they must have something, and something that proves you to be the organiser.’

Anderton suddenly flared up, ‘Well that’s a load of fucking crap. I did the pics, yeah, but that’s nothing to what Sheverill did.’

Frank was so close now he could almost taste it, ‘That isn’t what Sheverill said.’

Suddenly, Anderton laughed for the first time, a strange laugh, a confident laugh.

‘Oh yeah. Well fuck Sheverill, I’m not that stupid.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Well he said I was to photograph the sheets as he held them up to the window, but I got a good one of him taking the file out of the cabinet, and if you don’t believe me, check the film for yourself.’

Frank was getting the picture now, but unfortunately, there was still a long way to go.

‘Okay, I will, but that still leaves Hillsdown in the clear, unless you know different.’

Anderton fell silent, but started grunting as old memories came flooding back.

‘Hang on. When I leant out of the cradle, he reached over to take the film and nearly dropped it, so he took his glove off. Yes he did, so his prints will be on the case, and you could check it out, couldn’t you?’

Frank could now see the method of operation coming clear, but he had to ask the last few questions in just the right way.

‘Okay, I’ll have the case checked out, but first, tell me about the cradle.’

‘What, the maintenance cradle?’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘Well it’s nothing special, it just runs along on guide rails under the rain guttering, it goes all round the house and we use it for window cleaning and the odd repair.’

Frank thought,
and not to mention photographing top secret documents.

‘Okay, I’ve got the idea. So what was the deal? What was in it for you?’

Anderton sighed, ‘Not much, just ten grand in cash, and a few goes with the girl.’

He frowned, ‘Goes? With the girl?’

‘Yeah, the Goodwin tart, they told the stupid little cow I was a suspect in a crime and she had to drop her pants to see if I’d talk.’

Anderton grinned, but forgot himself as vivid thoughts came back into his mind.

‘And she sure did drop ‘em. Yeah, she’s a tasty bit of fresh meat, that Tara Goodwin, and boy did she grunt when I shoved it up her arse. Yeah, a good little fuck she was.’

He laughed again, but stopped when he saw Frank staring hard, straight into his eyes.

‘Anderton. Come outside. Come out onto the balcony.’

2
5

Wandering around her apartment, Evelyn looked out through the French windows and saw Anderton walk out onto the next balcony, and couldn’t help wondering why Lewis had wanted him brought up.

Looking around the balcony, she noticed a tall broom lying against the balustrade, but Lewis had stood up close with his back shielding it as he looked up over the house, and for some reason, they seemed to be looking along the edge of the roof tiles.

‘Alright, Anderton, so where are the guide rails?’

‘They’re up there, under the guttering.’

Frank shielded his eyes from the sun, and looking up along the eves, suddenly pointed.

‘Well I’m damned. Look at that. So that’s how they did it.’

Anderton stared up, ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Frank sighed, ‘Well I can see now, just how easy it was to trap you.’

Anderton looked more closely, ‘But I can’t see anything.’

He pointed, ‘Look, there’s a small camera up there, so they must have filmed you when you were taking the photos.’

Anderton strained to see, ‘But we didn’t put a camera up there, and I should know.’

‘Well there’s one up there now, just under that ledge, see?’

Anderton tried to think back, ‘The bastards.’

‘Yeah. Well you’d better get it down and we’ll check it for prints.’

‘Right. I could get it down with the cradle, but I just can’t see it.’

‘Well I don’t suppose you can from here, and especially with the state of your eyes. So hop up on the balustrade and I’ll hold you while you pin point it.’

‘Hop up? Christ, that’s dangerous. I’d rather use the cradle.’

‘Anderton, I’m trying to help you, so don’t fuck me about. Now get up there.’

He looked into Frank’s eyes, and sweating, climbed up and stood swaying on the smooth, round topped balustrade, his body slightly jiggling as he looked up.

‘I still can’t see it.’

Frank reached round, and grasping the end of the handle, lifted the broom and pushed the bristles hard into Anderton’s chest, ‘Here. Hold this.’

Anderton jerked, and swaying back, frantically grasped the head of the broom.

‘Christ Almighty. Go easy. You nearly had me off.’

Frank watched the nylon twine straining into tension under Anderton’s weight, and looking up into his eyes, took his hands off the broom handle.

Anderton gasped in disbelief as he stared at the broom handle, now sticking out and pointing away across the balcony, and he just couldn’t understand how the broom he was clinging onto, seemed to be just laying straight out in the still air, and his eyes became filled with terror when he realised the broom was attached to nothing, it was just there, laying suspended in space.

Wobbling on the balustrade, a breeze came to tug at his filthy matted clothes, and he began to shiver when he remembered that below him lay only the concrete yard.

Looking into his eyes, Frank raised his hand and plucked at the transparent twine.

‘Nylon. Strong, isn’t it? But don’t move, I’m not that good with knots.’

Anderton stared as he held on tightly to the broom handle suspended in mid-air.

Standing within the folds of the curtains, Evelyn could hardly believe her eyes as she stared across to the scene on the next balcony. Anderton was standing on the balustrade and holding tightly onto a broom handle as he leant back into space, but the broom was just lying there, suspended in mid-air while Lewis stared at him.

Anderton’s heart began to pound, beads of stinging sweat trickling down into his eyes, his arms beginning to ache with the enormous weight of his bloated body.

‘Please. Oh for god’s sake, pull me in. I’m going to fall.’

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Frank looked far away across the vast estate.

‘I know. That’s the whole idea.’

Evelyn’s thoughts jumped, ‘Oh god. Surely not. He couldn’t just let him fall.’

Anderton began to whimper, his chest heaving while his bloated body quivered.

‘But you can’t let me fall, it’s inhuman. All I did was take the pics.’

Frank took out his cigarettes, ‘Anderton, as usual, you just don’t get it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean, is, you’ve become a self-inflicted nemesis.’

‘And what the hell is that?’

‘You condemned yourself.’

Anderton cried out in terror, ‘But why ..?’

‘You want reasons? Okay, I’ll give you reasons. Well first there’s that secret file, and as the government would never want all this to come out in open court, you’ve just got to have an accident. And then there’s poor old Dudley, who didn’t just abseil off the balcony and use his neck as a brake, because you killed him, I know you did.’

Anderton swallowed, ‘But that wasn’t my idea. Hillsdown made me do it.’

‘Oh yeah, and what about that little lady, Tara Goodwin, did he force you to abuse her and all those school girls you and your grotty pals groomed for sex, and don’t bother lying because I know all about you. You’re on Stacey’s list.’

Anderton gripped the broom head, ‘But you’re wrong, these young girls like it.’

Frank flicked the cigarette away, ‘Emily didn’t.’

‘Who’s Emily?’

‘She was my best friend until she was raped by some pervert, and then died from Aids.’

Evelyn gripped the curtains and watched as Anderton gaped, and now she knew that Lewis really was going to let him fall, and nothing in the world could save him.

Frank plucked the twine, and looking up into Anderton’s crying eyes, saw that his fingers were slowly losing the battle, and there were only seconds left.

A terrifying image came into Anderton’s mind, of him falling, his arms thrashing through the air as he fell headlong, and all the way down to the ugly waiting concrete.

‘Please.’

Frank had heard that meaningless word so many times it had no consequence.

‘So long, Anderton. Give my regards to hell.’

First one hand and then the other slipped off the broom, and as it twanged back across the balcony, Anderton’s terror filled eyes met Frank’s uncaring stare, and he was gone.

Lounging his arms on the balustrade, Frank looked down and watched the bloated figure of Anderton as he fell in silence, his arms and legs spread out wide as he rushed in a spiral to the ground, but in the final few seconds, an eerie high pitched scream floated out over the estate, and then to be abruptly silenced as a shocking red stain suddenly and violently erupted out over the ugliness of the grey concrete.

With a shrug, he walked thoughtfully back to the lounge and picked up the phone.

‘Sergeant Jenkins? This is Lewis.’

‘Yes sir, how can I help?’

‘Well there’s been a development with Anderton.’

‘A development, sir, in what way?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘Dead?’

‘That’s right, he fell off Miss Goodwin’s balcony.’

The Sergeant stood motionless,
Oh god, not another one.

‘I see. So is there anything I should do?’

‘Yeah. Have a sheet thrown over the body, but leave it alone and I’ll have it collected tonight by my people, it’s better that way, and you can record it as an accident at work.’

‘Yes sir, anything else?’

‘Yes. Tell Hillsdown that Anderton has just died taking photographs.’

‘Taking photographs?’

‘That’s right, then give him half an hour to stew and bring him up to the house.’

‘As you wish, sir.’

‘Oh, and sarge, what height and weight would you say Hillsdown is?’

Frowning, the sergeant thoughtfully scratched his head.

‘Well I guess he’s about six foot one, and around fourteen, or maybe fifteen stone.’

‘Okay, that’s all I need.’

Replacing the phone, Sergeant Jenkins pulled out the drawer of the filing cabinet, and taking a long swallow from his bottle of Grouse Whisky, couldn’t help wondering if life here at Thornley Manor would ever be the same again.

Probably not.

As Christiana drove away from Glastonbury, she had even more on her mind than when she’d first arrived, and it was all because of Dimi, and that cow, Felicity.

Taking the road leading to the city of Bath, she knew from there she could head straight back to Sheverill’s Farm, and just maybe, the pad and alphabet.

They had to be somewhere in the house, and at least knew what she was looking for now, but having said that, where would Robin Sheverill have hidden them?

Then remembering Martha saying something about a priest hole, she relaxed a little.

So maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

Letting the Ferrari speed away, it didn’t seem long before she came to the ancient city of Bath, but the traffic was heavy and the narrow streets were clogged.

Sitting in the gridlock, a high class dress shop caught her eye, and in the window was the cutest little outfit. It was red, clinging and low cut …

She froze as two ladies stepped out, and instantly recognised the taller woman.

The Passion, The Tempest and The Devil’s Angel, all wrapped up in one voluptuous, but insanely crazy woman. Lucinda Sheverill.

Christiana watched them talking, but the traffic moved and blocked her view, and when she saw them again it was obvious Lucinda was annoyed, and leaning towards the other woman, her mouth worked fast while her hands gestured wildly - but the other woman stood unfazed in her immaculate grey suit, and while the colour of her light brown hair seemed to change with every fiery glint of the sun, her eyes stayed cool, and it soon became clear this woman was a mistress of herself, and she couldn’t help wondering just who the hell she was.

The traffic began to move, and as the car crept forward, saw the women disappearing into the crowd, but Lucinda was still arguing and waggling her finger at the woman in grey.

Cursing, she lit a cigarette, knowing this was not the time for more complications.

So why was Lucinda in Bath? She hadn’t said anything, except to meet her publisher. Maybe the confident woman in grey, was her, and if she was, why was Lucinda so angry?

But never mind, she might be away for hours, and this could be the golden opportunity to search for the secrets at Sheverill’s Farm.

Reaching the open road, she gunned the motor straight back to Sherston, and as the Ferrari hurtled through the twisting roads, Dimi’s words came back to her.

Pad and Alphabet British code Very good Very secret.

It was a long shot but she had to try. Right now she was getting nowhere and Area 57 was just too dangerous to leave for much longer.

Arthur was busy digging when he heard a fast car slue to a halt in the courtyard, and looking up, saw Christiana walk into view, and as she hurried along the meandering path he watched her bosom and soft bottom jiggling.

I’ll have you yet, you bitch, just you see if I don’t, and you won’t like it, one little bit.

Pushing the kitchen door open, Christiana saw Martha look up startled from the stove.

‘Hello Miss, you’re back early. But my lady isn’t here, she had to go out.’

‘Oh, did she? Well never mind, I’ll see her when she gets back.’

Bending down to the oven dish, Martha basted the trussed chicken with hot garlic fat, and standing up, took care to keep the left side of her face turned away, but Christiana had already noticed her bruised and swollen eye.

‘Are you okay, Martha? You seem …’

‘I’m fine, Miss. It’s just that my lady, well, she had another of those phone calls, you know, from her publisher, and it will hurt her mind again, you mark my words.’

As Martha walked self-consciously to the chopping board, Christiana glanced to the old fashioned Swiss clock, and knew that time was running away fast.

‘Oh Martha. Did you manage to look for any papers or books?’

‘No Miss, sorry. You see it was quite busy here, what with ma’am getting that call, and, well you know how she can be, ‘cos it hurts her mind, so it does.’

Christiana thought crazy old Martha seemed even more emotional than usual.

‘Yes, I do understand. But I wonder, would you mind if I looked?’

Martha suddenly became defensive, ‘Looked? Where?’

‘Oh, just in the priest hole.’

‘The priest hole ..? Oh Miss … No, sorry, I couldn’t let you do that.’

Christiana felt her plans slipping away, ‘But why not?’

‘Well my lady’s very particular about that place, very particular indeed, and I don’t know what possessed me to go in there and bring out that diary for you …, and may the saints preserve us if she ever finds out.’

‘But she won’t, Martha, I promise, and I’ll only be a few minutes.’

Hesitating, she laid the chopping knife down and gently touched her bruised eye.