Sleepwalk (18 page)

‘Good work Miss Gordon. Do you have the box?’

She passed the plastic bag to him, her eyes wide with satisfaction. ‘There’s your motive Detective Inspector.’

Slim was still spread-eagled against the police car when the officer pulled a shiny bronze medal from his pocket, a strip of red, white and blue ribbon hanging from it.

‘Is this what you’re looking for sir?’

‘Oh please…….’ Slim began as he turned to face them; Bits running around at their feet barking furiously.

‘Stephen Williams I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Colonel Arthur Jack Harding. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used……….’

‘What? Oh please come on guys…..’

‘……..may be used as evidence against you in a court of law.’

‘Please…… guys………. you are seriously not trying to pin this thing on me. I haven’t done anything to the Colonel. I would never hurt him. He’s my friend.’

‘Wasters like you Williams don’t have friends.’ Spat Vanessa Gordon.

‘You Bitch!’ Slim yelled, ‘You set me up! She set me up! She hates me. She’s always had it in for me!’

DI Carter sneered at the boy and gave his orders, ‘Take him away. And get that mongrel taken to the pound.’

Slim was bundled into the car while another officer caught the dog and put him into the back of a waiting van. DI Carter snapped at the young officer who had caught the dog, ‘You’d better stay behind Officer Cole and see if there are any other clues you might have missed’. Then he got into his unmarked blue Ford Sierra and drove off.

From a small thicket of trees beyond the bridge a young girl watched in stunned silence. Her yellow matted hair fell in ringlets around her pale face, her colourful striped socks pulled up over the legs of her jeans. She lay back against the bough of an old oak and contemplated her conscience......................

Felicity was at the cottage bright and early on Thursday morning to let the builders in and run through a list of the work with Bob Croft who now had his final estimate of the total costings. It didn’t take long for her to realise that her loan would barely cover half of it and after running through his work list she asked if there was any way of cutting the price down as she hadn’t realised it would be so much.

‘Look lady; you wanted the job done and we’re here as agreed. Now if we can’t agree on the price then I can turn my men around right now and you can get someone else to do it. I’ve already cut my costs down to the minimum to try and help you out under the circumstances but………’

‘No, it’s fine Mr Croft. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it would cost so much. You’ll have your money and I’m sorry to have questioned it.’ She would have to make another appointment at the bank and try to get her loan increased. She took his estimate and tucked it into her bag and said she’d be back later. Even as she made her way down the path the workmen already had a ladder up to the roof and were removing roof tiles around the affected area.
They’re supposed to be putting them up not taking more
off
she thought but then decided they must know what they are doing and so she got into her car and made her way to
Compton
to see her parents. She was probably better to leave them to get on with it and she would only be in their way if she stayed. She spent the day with her parents and was glad she had. There were no dramas today and they seemed to be getting on well again. After lunch they sat in the back garden and made the most of the fine weather. Her father didn’t say much. He sat reading a newspaper and it didn’t take her long to realise that he wasn’t actually reading it; just scanning it and re-scanning until he became bored then he laid it down on the table and drifted off to sleep. She pondered his recent loss for words and decided it was because he was scared to speak; afraid that what came out might not make sense. More and more lately when her father talked to her his words and meanings became muddled and then he would give her a big smile as if to say,
I know what I just said was utter rubbish but that was what came out when I opened my mouth
. Of course they all laughed about it but it was breaking their hearts inside. In the peace and quiet of her parents garden it was quite easy to drift off to sleep and after a while Felicity turned over on the sun lounger and realised she had caught the sun on her front and was quite uncomfortable now. She wriggled about for a while trying to get comfortable and then decided she had had enough. As she sat up she realised her mother had also fallen asleep and her father was no longer sitting in his chair. She got up and went into the house to find him sitting in the lounge looking at an old photograph album.

‘Dad? What are you up to?’

‘Looking at these; you were only a baby then you know.’

‘Hardly a baby, Dad; I was probably about seven or eight.’

He was gazing at a photo of her sitting on a pony on
Blackpool
pleasure beach. They had stayed there for a holiday when she was little but Felicity couldn’t remember much about it.

‘You screamed when we took you off that pony and we had to pay another shilling to let you go on again.’

‘Did you?’

‘Your mother said I spoiled you.’

‘Well………. I didn’t turn out too bad did I?’ Felicity hugged her father and kissed his cheek. This was the clearest, nicest conversation she had had with him for a long time and it made her feel kind of warm inside. His memories were obviously still there; just got a little clouded sometimes, bless him.

‘Cup of tea Dad?’

‘Yes ok dear. Not too much salt though eh?’

Felicity made an appointment to see her bank manager the following morning and her parents had promised to help her out if the bank wouldn’t agree to the increased loan. She left
Compton
that afternoon feeling much happier about things and when she got back to her cottage later that day she was surprised to see the new roof tiles already in place and the bedroom floor almost completed. A ladder had been placed on the stairs and tied down to secure it there. Bob asked her if she’d like to go up and have a look but to be careful because some of the floorboards hadn’t yet been nailed down. There wasn’t much to see. The room had been emptied of its burnt out furniture and clothing but it seemed bigger than she’d remembered. Bob explained that the floor had taken longer than they’d anticipated because they’d had to replace three of the joists and not two as they’d previously thought. Further investigation had uncovered some weak spots and better to be safe than sorry.
Which meant the bill had just gone up even more
……….. He told her the new windows would be here on Monday and the staircase was on order and would also be ready next week. A few more weeks and she could be moving back in he said; moving back into her cottage…………
and
away from David
.

‘Have you seen it?’ David was sitting at the kitchen table holding a copy of the Barton Times weekly newspaper.

‘Seen what?’

‘Oh God Flick; you haven’t have you? I thought you would have……. you’d better have a look.’

The paper was folded open to page four and there she was; a small photograph of her shocked expression; her eyes wide and her mouth open.

‘The reporter. He came into the office on Monday. How could they?’

The caption read, ‘
Trouble at Mill
’
Felicity Breen, m
anager o
f the reputable
Denton
Fairfax
estate a
gents’ East Barton office has had trouble at one of the old Mill cottages in Knapp when her cottage caught fire late on Saturday night. Three fire crews attended the scene and the damage is said to be quite extensive. A police spokesman said they were following up enquiries at present but had not ruled out arson. Luckily no one was hurt in the fire. Miss Breen was not available for comment and was not at home when the fire occurred
. She laid the newspaper down on the kitchen table and looked at David whose face was stern. He was obviously as angry as she was.

‘They’ve certainly not done you any favours have they?’

‘No.’ She stood up and filled the kettle. ‘Well that’s it then. The insurance company won’t pay out if they read that.’

‘Flick, you mustn’t worry about that. They’re not stupid. And anyway you have a cast iron alibi. You were at the hospital. The police must know that.’

‘I know but they’ve made it sound…….. incriminating. Oh great!’

‘What?’

‘Charles Denton. He told me to steer clear of the press. That’s it then. Now I won’t have a job to go back to.’

‘Flick, a company cannot dismiss you for being in the paper. They’d be up before a tribunal if they tried.’

‘Isn’t there some clause in employment contracts about not saying anything derogatory about the company or bringing them into disrepute or something?’

‘Well you’ve hardly done that babe. In fact, you’ve done exactly what he’s asked of you; to steer clear of the press. It states here in black and white that you wouldn’t comment. You worry too much.’

The following morning Felicity arrived at the bank and after a long drawn out conversation with the bank’s financial advisor (the bank manager was too busy to see her) and a lot of form filling in, it was announced that her loan could be increased; but not to the amount she had requested. She would be almost a thousand pounds short to pay the builders, without even thinking about replacing her furniture; clothes and decoration costs
etc.
Felicity had sent in the final estimate from Bob Croft and now hoped and prayed that she would get word from her insurance company soon.

Ellie was in a dark unfamiliar place. Shadows were moving around her and a yellow glow which had been distant was now growing stronger. She looked up the steps and knew that she had to climb them but she was afraid. She reached out her hand to the rail but it was too hot to touch and her hand instantly recoiled and then there were flames; flames in the darkness beneath her and she was moving slowly back down the steps toward them, edging her way closer and closer until she could feel the heat rising from them, then she stepped sideways and moved away from the flames and into the darkness. But the flames leapt higher and higher and crept toward her and around her until they almost consumed her………….

‘Ellie?’

Abi was shaking her, bringing her back from the darkness.

‘What? What is it?’

‘You were shouting……. and shaking…… and you’re all cold and clammy. Are you ok?’

‘Yes. Sorry I……. I must have been dreaming.’

‘What about?’

‘Sorry?’

‘What were you dreaming about?’

‘I don’t know…… a fire…… I don’t know Abs; it was dark.’

‘Someone was banging on the door. I looked out and it was the police. They didn’t see me but, then you were talking in your sleep and shaking and…….. it scared me a bit.’

‘Sorry’

‘It’s ok. It’s not your fault.’

‘The police……. are they……….?’

‘They’ve gone now. But they’ll probably be back. I wonder what happened to the car?’

‘I don’t know. The tax I think…….. I hope.’

‘The tax? Ellie did you not tax the car?’

‘Well I have now. But I forgot you see. When they……… in the car park. I wondered what was wrong and then I realised that the tax had run out at the end of the month. That’s why I was looking for the car documents the other night. I’ve done it now. I went to the post office before work yesterday and I’ve sent the log book off because it was still at my old address.’

‘You’ll probably get into trouble then. They’ve seen it in the car park and it’s like, two weeks into the month. A few days and you might get away with it, but two weeks!’

Ellie sighed and prayed that car tax evasion was her only sin because sometimes she wondered where her dreams had taken her; they were so vivid it was like she was actually there. She had begun to worry about where dream ended ……….. and reality began.

DI Carter slammed the Breen file down hard on his desk and a newspaper clipping with its small black and white photo fell out and slid sideways. He picked it up and studied it. She was a pretty girl. The Barton Times hadn’t done her justice. They’d caught her in a state of shock. Now if he were a photographer…………

‘We’ve got the pathologists report on the Colonel Sir. Unless Williams has been stealing cars I don’t think he’s our man.’

‘Hit and run?’

‘Looks like it, yes.’

‘Ok. Get Coles on it. It’s about time he got his bloody hands dirty…….and get on to traffic……. and I want that place picked clean with a fine comb.’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘How long have we had Williams in?’

‘Just under twenty four hours.’

‘Ok. I want to talk to him before we let him go. Have him brought up will you?’

‘Yes Sir.’

Carter knew that the lad wasn’t responsible. He believed him when he’d said he didn’t steal the medal; that the Colonel had asked him to get it valued. But there was something he wasn’t telling him. The boy knew something and he was damned if he was letting him go until he found out what it was.