The Cedar Face: DI Jewell book 3 (DI Elizabeth Jewell) (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

It
was well after midnight when Elizabeth decided to head back
to Anita's house. Thanks to Dean securing a late
license, the last few customers were leaving. Elizabeth was physically
tired yet strangely energised from her conversation with Dean. Her
earlier inhibitions had vanished, thanks to the wine. The mood
between them had changed and Elizabeth wondered whether she'd
regret encouraging him. If tomorrow's hangover would bring doubts
.

Elizabeth rubbed her temples. 'I better go otherwise I'll
never get up in the morning.'

'Come on, I'll
walk you home,' he said.

'I need Anita's key
but I can't find my bag. Maybe I left
it behind the bar.'

Dean searched for a few minutes
and came back. 'Sorry, not there. I didn't see
you with one when you first got here.'

Elizabeth suddenly
remembered. 'Damn, I left it in the car and forgot
to lock up.'

'Don't worry. Not much crime around
here.'

'Knowing my luck there will be tonight,' Elizabeth said
.

Dean looked at his watch. 'If Anita's gone to
bed you can stay here.'

Her phone was also in
the bag. She put her head in her hands and
groaned. 'I never leave my phone behind.'

Dean sounded slightly
annoyed. 'Surely you're entitled to an occasional night off
.'

Elizabeth was surprised he'd referred to her work hours
. She hadn't expected it so soon and her immediate
reaction was disappointment. Her expression must have worried him, he
turned away. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said
that.'

Her career had already ruined her love affair with
David. Calbrain, who she'd unexpectedly fallen for had intervened
in a police investigation with disastrous results. From the day
she'd first worn her police uniform most of her
relationships had ended because of her job. She knew plenty
of married female officers with children. Most seemed to cope
well, juggling their family life with a tough profession. The
last couple of years she'd started blaming herself, wondering
which one of her characteristics had prevented her from forming
a steady partnership.

Elizabeth knew her reaction to what Dean
had said was petty. He'd made a passing comment
and she'd taken offence. Grow up, she thought, this
is a nice guy and I'm about to ruin
my chances.

'Of course I go off duty, but you
work unsociable hours as well. I was trying to figure
out how we'd get to see each other.'

Dean
poured another glass of wine. 'I'm the boss. I
can see you whenever I want. All you have to
do is call me.'

'Let's drink to that,' Elizabeth
said.

Five minutes later Dean opened up the main doors
and Elizabeth stepped out into the cool night air. The
street was deadly quiet until the sound of someone running
alerted her. She couldn't believe her eyes when she
saw Anita dashing towards the entrance. She hurried towards her
, already assuming something was wrong. 'What's happened? Why are
you running?'

Anita was panting from exertion. 'Patterson just rang
my home number. He's been trying to get hold
of you for the last couple of hours. He said
you weren't answering.'

Elizabeth steadied her friend. 'I'm
so sorry. I'm a bloody idiot. I left it
in the car.'

Anita looked pale and she was shivering
. Dean took her other elbow. 'Let's go inside and
you can tell Elizabeth what's happened.'

The two women
sat down while Dean poured brandy into three glasses.

Anita
took a sip. 'Patterson said to phone him as soon
as you get back. He didn't say why but
from his tone I'd say he has a problem
.'

'Elizabeth couldn't understand why Anita was in such a
bad state. She was certain the phone call from Patterson
wasn't the reason. 'You seem scared. Did someone frighten
you on your way down here? Is that why you
were running?'

Anita downed the brandy and held out the
glass. Dean refilled it.

'I'm not used to physical
exercise, that's all. Stop worrying about me and phone
your sergeant.'

'I'm walking back with both of you
,' Dean said.

On the way up the slight incline, Elizabeth
stayed alert wondering what had spooked her friend. The road
was deserted, all the houses in darkness. By the time
they reached the cottage, Anita was exhausted. Elizabeth retrieved her
bag and locked up the Saab before saying goodnight to
Dean. He kissed her on the cheek and said he
'd be in touch. Anita went straight to bed without
waiting to hear the outcome of her call to Patterson
, which was unusual. Elizabeth put her disinterest down to tiredness
, but she knew there was more to Anita's sudden
panic. Although she didn't need another drink, Elizabeth helped
herself to a brandy, lay on the sofa and phoned
Patterson.

He sounded agitated. 'Not good news I'm afraid
. Jade Harper's dead.'

Elizabeth's heart sank and she
took a large gulp from the glass. 'Murdered?'

'Dr Oakley
's positive she was strangled.'

'Who found her?'

A taxi
driver needed a pee and stopped in Hart Lane, which
runs parallel to the playing fields. A new wall is
under construction and the builders erected a temporary six-foot
, welded mesh fence to stop anyone getting in. He stood
right up against it and spotted her.'

'She was found
inside the Academy grounds? What time was this?'

'The taxi
driver was specific, ten forty-five.'

'You'll have to
send a car for me.'

'Liz, it's late. I
've spoken to Jessica and she's positive on cause
of death and wants to move the body quickly. She
believes the killer threw dragged her to that position. There
's CCTV on Grasmere Road, none in Hart Lane. I
'm going over there right now then I'll start
organising the troops.'

'Do her parents know yet?'

'I sent
Eldridge and Gardiner.'

Katie Gardiner was new to CID. Elizabeth
wondered how she'd cope. 'We need to know when
and where she was last seen. Phone Katie, hopefully we
'll get a precise time and place. What about my
lift?'

'If you trust me Liz then go to bed
and get some sleep. There's not a lot you
can do and it's stupid both of us staying
up all night. You can relieve me in the morning
then I'll shoot off home for a couple of
hours.'

Elizabeth was beginning to feel woozy and wished she
hadn't drunk the brandy. She'd never stay awake
and even if by a miracle she did, her brain
wouldn't function properly.

'You're sure you can handle
everything until tomorrow morning? I'll be there at seven
.'

'What should I do about Morven?'

'I hope to God
he has a decent alibi. Because if he hasn't
we'll have no choice but to bring him in
.'

'I've just checked with the custody officer and Morven
checked in a week ago. When he was asked about
any change in his circumstances, he admitted John McAllister had
rented a car. Apparently, staying indoors all the time was
getting to them. Morven said they also needed a car
to do grocery shopping. I've got the registration to
check against any camera footage picking up the number near
to the murder scene.'

Elizabeth concentrated on Morven. What were
the odds he was responsible. She knew the statistics but
somehow the idea didn't ring true. 'As soon as
Jessica releases the body and you're sorted, go and
check on him. How soon can you get there?'

'At
this time of night, about forty minutes.'

'What about Jade
's boyfriend, Duncan Mortimer?'

'Uniforms are out trying to find
him. He's not at home so hopefully he's
out clubbing. Sorry Liz but I better get moving.'

'Any
major problems wake me up. Otherwise I'll see you
in a few hours.'

Elizabeth switched off the lights and
crept upstairs in the dark. The small guest room was
at the end of the landing. She closed the door
and lay on the bed thinking about Jade Harper and
her boyfriend Duncan Mortimer. Jackie Kilmartin had hinted some of
her pupils dabbled in sex games. After the Faraday case
, her mind didn't want to go there, but she
had to cover all possibilities. With any luck, Jessica would
start the post mortem early tomorrow and have some answers
. She closed her eyes hoping sleep would overcome her. After
five minutes she resorted to her childhood game of drawing
the alphabet in her mind’s eye. A method she
'd used for years to empty her mind and drift
off peacefully.

She could only have been asleep for a
few minutes when a noise disturbed her. Dragging herself off
the bed she went to the window, pulled back the
curtains and stared across the back garden towards the fields
. As she turned away she caught a movement under a
solitary streetlight. It was difficult to make out without her
distance glasses but she was sure someone was in the
back lane behind the garden. She waited until she was
sure whoever it was had gone, then she got back
into bed and drifted into a troubled sleep.

People came
towards her wearing masks, but the masks didn't hide
their identity. She knew who everyone was. Jade Harper appeared
and spoke to her but Elizabeth couldn't hear what
she was saying.

Then Daly walked by and beckoned her
to follow him. She ran after him but as soon
as she thought she'd caught up with him, he
disappeared into an ominous dark cloud.

At that moment she
woke. The room was too dark and Elizabeth felt disorientated
. She slid out of bed, pulled back the curtains and
focused on the lane again. No one was there.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Tuesday May 28th 12.50 am

Patterson took the
A40 to Northleach and half an hour later turned off
onto the Bibury Road. He'd visited Bibury a few
times over the years, usually with his mates and as
he drove through, he saw the river Coln flowing parallel
to the main street. The Coln, a tributary of the
Thames was the main reason tourists came to Bibury, to
see the famous trout farm stocked with the native brown
fish. Patterson remembered reading about William Morris at school and
that he'd once said Bibury was the most beautiful
village in England.

He pulled up outside the tourist information centre hoping to find a map. The cheap sat nav he'd bought at Christmas had played up for a couple of weeks and foolishly, he'd messed about with it. First thing on Saturday morning, he intended buying a more up to date model.

The glass covered notice board held plenty of information including a brief history of the village and directions to important architecture and local beauty spots. Many Cotswold villages had associations with the wool trade and Bibury was no exception. Their main industry was supplying cloth to a nearby mill. The premises where the weavers hung wool to dry was a place called "Rack Isle". Sounds like a title of a film, Patterson thought as he read through carefully. He realised he was nervous and wasting a few minutes might help calm him down. He looked at the map and judged he was about five minutes away from the address.

Black clouds scudded across the sky obscuring the full moon. At times Patterson struggled to follow the directions to Arlington Mill. The narrow lanes were like a warren and he almost got lost. When he eventually found where he was going, he turned down a pebbled drive and parked the car in front of a stone cottage.

One of Morven's bail conditions was a permanent UK address. He'd insisted he needed somewhere reasonably secure and private. Bearing in mind John McAllister's academic status they had decided to move closer to Oxford.

He
parked, walked up to the door and knocked. He couldn'
t see any lights on anywhere and wondered whether to
ring their number. The cottage was one of the honey
coloured Cotswold stone almshouses that had once been a monastic
wool store. He was surprised they had chosen this location
as it was one of the most photographed Cotswold scenes
in the area. Less than ten minutes ago he'd
seen a postcard of this very house pinned inside a
tourist information board. Strange, he thought. Had someone deliberately compromised
Morven's privacy? Surely if Morven had seen it he
would have asked whoever was in charge to remove it.
Leaving it there was like a beacon for anyone hoping
to find him.

Patterson banged on the door again and
a light went on. McAllister opened it; he was dressed
in a thick plaid dressing gown even though it was
close to fifteen degrees outside. His Canadian drawl was slightly
slurred and Patterson suspected he'd been drinking. He'd
only met him once before when he'd accompanied Morven
to Park Road.

'Come in,' McAllister said. 'I'll get
Jacob.'

McAllister disappeared and Patterson heard muffled voices coming from
the room directly above him. He waited, wondering what they
were discussing until Morven walked through the door. Considering his
predicament the man appeared calm and unruffled.

'I'm not
due to come to your police station for two days.
It would have been courteous to ring first,' he said.

Patterson felt out of his depth. He wished he could
go home and crawl into bed but Liz had trusted
him and he couldn't let her down. He tried
his authoritative voice. 'I haven't turned up on a
whim. I'm here because we have another victim.'

Both
men looked up, alarmed. McAllister went to an antique table
and poured himself a drink. 'Can I get you one,'
he asked.

Patterson shook his head and Morven didn't
take up the offer either.

'Jade Harper, one of the
students at Grasmere Academy was found murdered approximately two hours
ago.'

Patterson could tell by Morven's eyes he knew
what was coming next.

'I have to ask you to
voluntarily return to Park Road. Before we go I need
you to change into other clothes and hand over any
other garments you have worn earlier. A forensic team will
arrive shortly. I also have a warrant to search these
premises.'

'For Christ's sake,' McAllister shouted, 'you can't
believe Jacob had anything to do with this.'

Morven moved
towards the professor and placed an arm around his shoulders. '
It's okay John, leave this to me.'

'Have you
left the house today?' Patterson asked.

McAllister appeared flustered, his
breathing became laboured and he slumped onto a sofa.

Morven
answered 'We hardly ever go out and when we do
we keep to ourselves. So far, only a handful of
people in the village know who we are. My lawyers
chose this location for a good reason; we had a
better chance of remaining anonymous.'

'I asked if you went
out today and did you use the hire car?' Patterson
asked.

'We drove to Oxford to do grocery shopping. We
went this evening,' Morven said.

'What time did you get
back?'

Morven turned to McAllister. 'We didn't leave until
nine, got back about eleven. We switched on the television
as soon as we came indoors. The news had just
started.'

'Where's the vehicle?'

'The driveway curves around to
the rear of the property. We leave it there so
no one can see it from the front,' Morven answered.

'
I'd like the keys,' Patterson said. Morven opened a
drawer in an antique writing desk and handed them over. '
You're making another mistake. Neither John nor I had
anything to do with this poor girl's death. Targeting
me will only make you look more foolish.'

Patterson was
about to suggest to Morven that he contact Teresa Lane,
when his phone beeped. 'Excuse me,' he said.

The two
men remained silent while Patterson listened to Eldridge. Les Harper
was refusing to cooperate. Eldridge wanted further instructions.

'No point
in staying then. He's just lost his daughter so
leave it for his brief to organise, that's what
they get paid for. But do that right now. Liz
will want to start interviewing in the morning.'

Patterson ended
the call then turned back to Morven. 'I'd prefer
it if you showed me the vehicle you used tonight.'

McAllister refilled his glass. Patterson glanced over and noticed his
pallor. He looked ill. The last thing Patterson needed was
a sick man on his hands. 'Mr McAllister, I suggest
you make that your last whisky.'

McAllister stood up and
swayed slightly. 'It's Professor if you don't mind.
You have falsely accused a Canadian citizen and I have
influential friends here in the UK. I intend to call
in a few favours and ask for their help.'

'That'
s entirely your prerogative sir,' Patterson followed Morven to the
rear entrance.

A black BMW sat on the hard standing.
Patterson ran his hand across the bonnet.

Morven leaned against
a wall, his manner sarcastic. 'Trying to figure out what
time I switched off the engine? I've admitted to
driving the car, isn't that enough?'

The bonnet felt too hot. Patterson checked the time. It was quarter to two in the morning. There was no way they got back as early as eleven pm. More like just before he turned up. Patterson was shocked his suspicions weren't unfounded. 'A young girl died tonight, some bastard killed her. 'My job is to find out who that person is.'

He removed an LED pen torch from his pocket, bent down and sniffed the front grill; the bitter smell of oil drifted from the engine and caught the back of his throat. Then he lifted the bonnet and inspected underneath. Engines weren't his forte but he knew enough to get by. Over two and a half hours since they got back yet the engine didn't back up their story. The only other explanation was they'd gone out again. He shone the torch on the oil reservoir; the cap was loose and he wondered why. He lifted it off and then replaced it. The engine might have overheated, could that be the reason? Patterson unlocked the driver's door and felt a blast of warmth. He moved the beam over the dashboard and noticed the heating controls were in the on position. Why heat the inside of a vehicle on a warm May night.

He turned to Morven. 'It's pointless lying to me. Either you came home later or you went out again. What's it to be?'

Morven's expression was impassive. 'We came back later than I said.'

'I could arrest you right now for attempting to pervert the course of justice. However, I suggest you ring your solicitor and have her meet us at Park Road in an hour.'

'We stayed in Oxford and I can prove it,' Morven stated.

Patterson knew to be careful. Accusing the Canadian without any probable cause would backfire on him.

'You still have to come back with me and make a statement. So where were you?'

He watched Morven deliberating how to tell him. 'In a brothel on the outskirts of Oxford,' he said.