Secret of the Dead (26 page)

Tony glanced up, “Whispers?”

“The landlord at the Wortley Arms and a couple of regulars in there just said to keep an eye on him. We wondered what they meant and then we were told that his dad was a rum ’un. That he was in prison because he’d killed someone. We tried to find out what he’d done, but no one was quite sure. They thought it was some kind of robbery he’d done. We never got to the bottom of it and we decided not to say anything to our Lucy. We just hoped the relationship would run its course and they’d finish, but it didn’t. Lucy got caught with Jessica and then Peter asked if he could marry her. What could we say? We mentioned to Lucy what we’d heard about Peter’s dad and she said he’d told her all about it. He’d told her that his dad had broken into a shop in Sheffield and had got caught by the owner and that he’d killed him in a fight.” Richard paused and continued, “He’s dead himself now. Apparently he was killed about ten years ago. Stabbed in prison, I think. Peter and Lucy went to his funeral.”

Tony made a few quick notes. “So just going back, Peter and Lucy got married?”

“Yes. It was a rushed job, a registry office wedding, three months before Jessica was born. It was against our wishes, we wanted her to have a proper wedding after Jessica was born but Lucy would have none of it. She said she was happy with that. I have to say back then Peter was good to her. He’d even got together enough money for a deposit for an old cottage in the next village at Tankersley. For the first year of their marriage Lucy was in her element. Jessica was born and Lucy spent all her time putting together a home. Peter worked really hard and long hours. In fact, he also began making quite a bit of money importing cars from Germany, BMWs and Mercedes if I recall. Then in the second year of the marriage he bought a big old nightclub near Wakefield, spent thousands doing it up and changed it into a private members’ club. That’s when we noticed the cracks beginning to appear in the marriage. Peter seemed to be out all hours. Then we found out the club Peter owned was in fact a strip club. We were mortified. We tried hard not to interfere, but felt we needed to talk with her about it. When we did, we could see that Lucy wasn’t happy about it herself, but she stuck up for him. She just kept saying that Peter was working very hard because he wanted to make lots of money for them. Sure enough, he did that, and he bought an old farmhouse, just outside the village, which he had done up for Lucy and Jessica, but we could see things weren’t right. Then a few months before Lucy disappeared we noticed a difference in her. For about a year, her regular visits had dropped off. Then, around June time in nineteen-eighty-three, she started turning up the two and three times a week again like she used to and was just like her old self again, so bubbly. Of course, what we didn’t know at the time was that she was having an affair with Danny Weaver, and that was the reason for her happiness.

“And that’s why I was so surprised when those two detectives came to our house that Sunday evening and told us he had confessed to killing Lucy,” added Margaret. “She was so happy, the months and weeks leading up to her disappearance. It was such a shock when they said she was missing, and then especially when they came back and broke that awful news to us. We went every day to the trial. It was such a shock when we learned how long things had been going on between her and Danny. Although Amanda did cushion us from some of it.”

“Did Amanda know about it all then?”

“Oh yes. Lucy and Amanda were like that.” Margaret crossed over her fingers to form an X. “Lucy told Amanda everything. Even why she’d had the affair. Amanda told us that Peter had started knocking Lucy about. Though she never said that in the witness box.” She looked hard at Tony. “Apparently it wasn’t relevant!”

Tony held her look. “What do you mean, not relevant?”

“I don’t know. Those two detectives, who were in charge of the case, just told Amanda to talk about Lucy’s affair with Danny. Supposedly, that was all the Judge wanted to hear. I’ve spoken with her many times since then and she says now that she wished she’d mentioned Peter had beaten Lucy. Since the trial, we don’t have anything to do with Peter. It isn’t just because of what went off with Lucy but what he has done to our Jessica. We looked after Jessica once Danny was charged. Peter just said it would be for the best while he got his head around everything. Then after the trial he asked us if we would adopt Jessica, because she reminded him too much of Lucy and he wanted to just forget it all and start a new life.” Margaret shook her head. “How can a father do that to his daughter? For years we had all sorts of problems with her.” She tapped at her temple. “Psychological problems. She’s had some terrible nightmares. In the end we had to take her to a psychologist. She doesn’t have anything to with her father now. Good riddance, that’s what I say.”

Tony shrugged and offered her a sympathetic look. “Just one more question. Peter’s name, Blake-Hall? Is the Hall part of his name a coincidence?”

“No that was Peter’s idea before they got married. He was called Blake. He thought changing it to a double-barrelled one would be good for his business.”

Tony snapped shut his notebook and gathered together his paperwork. He wet his thumb and started to separate the photocopied witness statements. “Margaret, Richard, you’ve told us a lot more than what was put down in your original statements here. I’d like you to go through them again and then we’ll take some fresh ones, adding everything you’ve just told us.”

* * * * *

SIO Michael Robshaw had called an early evening de-brief. By 7pm, everyone on the team, including the newcomers, had drifted back into the incident room. Once again it was standing room only. The Detective Superintendent opened up discussions by announcing that lines of enquiry had borne fruit which he wanted to share with the team as a matter of importance.

“I’m going to bring in Detective Superintendent Leggate first. She went to Jodie Jenkinson’s second post-mortem this afternoon.”

Dawn Leggate was standing alongside Michael Robshaw, elbows crooked and hands tucked into the pockets of her short, tailored jacket. She brushed the sides of her skirt lightly as if removing something, then said in her Scottish burr, “The second PM has uncovered something which was not picked up the first time around. Chiefly because of the state of the body, and not because of the slackness of the first pathologist’s examination, might I say. Under different lighting conditions, the pathologist has discovered bruising beneath the skin of both wrists, consistent with her being restrained. Her skin has been swabbed for DNA. Secondly I can confirm she was not a smackhead. There are only two needle puncture sites over her entire body, and those are on her left arm. One of those missed the vein, the other of course didn’t. Again, we’ve taken DNA swabs. Finally, the injury to her face.” She met Hunter’s look. “I’m afraid that’s still inconclusive.” She returned her focus to the team. “So it looks as though someone restrained her, either by gripping, or by using something, and then killed her. In this case, by injecting her with a lethal dose of purer than normal street heroin.” She slotted her hands back into her jacket pockets and shared a sideways look with Michael Robshaw, mouthing the word “Done.”

“So that’s where we are with Jodie.” Robshaw said, taking a step forward. “Hunter, I want to bring you in now. Tell everyone what you and Grace found at Armstrong’s place today.”

The room fell silent as Hunter pushed himself up from his desk. In dramatic fashion he snatched up a yellowing newspaper broadsheet from a pile on his desk, and holding it aloft, slowly ranged it left to right so that everyone got a good look at it. The large headline made for a powerful statement. The word ‘BUTCHERED’ was only slightly smaller than the newspaper masthead.

“This edition of the Sheffield Telegraph and Star is dated fifth October nineteen-seventy-four, and outlines the story of the murders of Frank and Cynthia Pendlebury. They ran their own small family jewellery business in Attercliffe. On the morning of the fifth they were found dead by an officer, doing his rounds, checking premises on the High Street. He found the front door open. Frank’s body was found just behind the counter, in the front of the shop, and his wife Cynthia was found at the top of the stairs just inside the entrance to their flat. Both had been stabbed several times. At the bottom of the article there is a quote from a DCI Burrows, who was leading the enquiry, to the effect that the case was being treated as murder, and that it was believed that Frank and Cynthia had disturbed robbers at their premises.” Hunter tapped a hand across the top of the pile of papers where the broadsheet had come from. “These papers here all contain follow-up articles relating to the murders. They contain articles which reveal that the safe in the Pendlebury’s shop had been blown open and a large quantity of jewellery had been stolen. A few of them describe the search for the robbers and have the usual stuff the papers put out about any manhunt. But this one,” he said, putting down the broadsheet he was holding and then picking up another from the top of the pile, “Contains the story of the arrest of three men for the murders.” He showed to the team another copy of the same named newspaper. It bore the headline ‘MURDER SUSPECTS DETAINED.’ “This edition is dated a week later, and describes the raids on two homes, the discovery of items of jewellery and the arrest of three men. The names of the suspect are not revealed as per protocol. However, down the side of the article, written in pen, are three names.” Hunter tapped the edge of the newssheet. “From other samples of handwriting we have found in Guy Armstrong’s house, I believe this is his writing. He has entered the names of George Blake, Peter Blake and Ronald Bishop.” He tapped down on the pile of papers again. “Later editions outline that a George Blake, thirty-nine years old, from Sheffield, was charged with the murders of Frank and Cynthia Pendlebury, and on twentieth January nineteen-seventy-five, he pleaded guilty at Sheffield Crown Court and was given a life sentence.”

Detective Superintendent Robshaw interrupted Hunter’s speech with a loud clearing of his throat. He held up his hand. “I’ll just stop you there for now Hunter, because I want to bring in Tony.” He switched his gaze to DC Bullars. “Tony, I think you know why I’ve brought you in at this point. You went to see Lucy’s parents, over in Bakewell this afternoon. Tell the team what you found out.”

Tony Bullars, pushed back his chair and met his colleagues’ stares. He explained what Richard and Margaret Hall had told Carol Ragen and himself earlier that day and finished by saying “They told us that Peter Blake-Hall is in fact plain old Peter Blake. He changed his name by deed poll after his marriage to Lucy.”

The SIO said.’“I’m going to stop you there as well Tony, because I think everyone has got the message.” His eyes travelled around the room. “Today’s enquiries have turned up some very interesting information. It doesn’t solve who murdered Jeffery Howson, Jodie Jenkinson, Guy Armstrong and Lucy Blake-Hall, but I think it takes us down another avenue regarding the suspects. And for me it also provides the answers as to why Guy Armstrong had so much of a fixation with the Lucy Blake-Hall enquiry, and why he’d given so much of his time carrying out his own investigation into her disappearance and Daniel Weaver’s trial. He knew from the outset that something wasn’t right. And we now know that as well. The finding of that statement in Jeffery Howson’s safe confirms it. Now all we’ve got to do is determine who actually killed these four. And although we now have Lucy’s husband in the frame, for the first time, we mustn’t lose sight of who our prime suspect still is - Alan Darbyshire.”

* * * * *

The evening briefing ran out of steam at 9pm. It had taken two hours. Detective Superintendent Robshaw had rattled off a long list of enquiries for the next day, drawn them up on each of the dry-wipe boards and then checked back with everyone.

One of the key tasks identified was to see if DCI Burrows, who was in charge of the Pendlebury murders, was still around, so that they could get the police version of the case. Barry Newstead had volunteered for that job. He told the room that ‘Ted’ Burrows had been his DCI when he had been attached to Headquarters Serious Crime Squad in the 1980s and that although he knew he had retired in the early nineties, he believed he was still living somewhere in Sheffield.

The personal backgrounds of Jodie Marie Jenkinson and Guy Armstrong still needed doing. And there was the forensic evidence to chase up.

Detective Superintendent Robshaw closed the session by saying “Team, we have two new names now, which although not suspects at this stage, we need to know a lot more about. Especially Peter Blake. We know Peter has links with our main suspect Alan Darbyshire, and as Lucy’s husband he has to be looked at more carefully now, especially given this latest information about him beating her. Although let’s be guarded by this. It’s come from Lucy’s parents and it’s not corroborated so far. We also have the name of Peter Blake listed by Guy Armstrong on the newspaper article in relation to the Pendlebury murders. Is this the same Peter Blake? If it is, then I also want to know who Ronald Fisher is.” The SIO pursed his lips. “I don’t think I need to remind everyone about the pressure we are under to get a result. We have three fresh murders and one old one, which could bring about an enquiry regarding a miscarriage of justice, and so far we have very little evidence to bring anyone in. We need to change all that, and soon.”

* * * * *

Hunter sat in his car with the engine running. He turned down the music and fished out his mobile. Scrolling down his contacts list, he tapped ‘Home’. Beth picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hi Love. Just got done. Everything okay?”

Jonathan and Daniel were in bed. “Daniel’s got the face on,” she said, “They had a penalty shoot-out competition at football training tonight and Jonathan won it. He’s got a baseball cap and wanted to show it you. On the other hand Daniel, because he didn’t win anything, has a face as long as a fiddle, so don’t forget to praise him will you?”