The Calling of the Grave (44 page)

    'That
can happen.'

    'I'm
sure it can, but she didn't seem too worried about it. So why did she lie? Who
was she protecting? Herself or somebody else?'

    I
opened my mouth to object, but he was only saying what I'd thought myself. I
just hadn't wanted to accept it. 'What's your point?'

    'My
point is I don't believe in coincidences.' He prodded a piece of clay with his
foot. 'If you've something valuable you want to hide there's two ways to go
about it. One is to put it somewhere really safe, where no one will ever be
able to find it. The trouble is if you can think of it, chances are somebody
else will as well. The other way is to put it somewhere no one will ever think
to look. Somewhere so obvious they won't even realize it
is
a hiding
place. Preferably where you can see it every day.'

    I stared
at the workbench where Sophie had built up the mound of clay scraps.
Just a
bad habit.
I remembered how she'd come in here as soon as we'd got back
from hospital, claiming she was looking for the spare key. How she'd run her
hand across it, as though to reassure herself. Right out in the open but too
big to move.

    No
wonder she hadn't wanted to go to a safe house.

    'I
think she was hiding something in a ball of dried clay,' I said. Sophie hadn't
even bothered to put a lock on the kiln door, practically announcing that there
was nothing of value inside.

    Roper
smiled. 'I'm less interested in where it was hidden than in what it was. All
this started when Jerome Monk escaped, so there has to be a connection. And
whatever was here, it was important enough for Miss Keller to risk facing him
rather than leave it untended.'

    And
important enough for someone to knock her unconscious and leave her for dead
while they searched the house. My mind was whirring now, the last cobwebs of
fatigue dropping away.

    'Terry
Connors tried to persuade me to take Sophie away yesterday afternoon,' I said.
'That's why he wanted to see me.'

    'Did
he now? Then perhaps Monk did him a favour. Got her out of the way long enough
for him to find what he was looking for.' Roper considered the debris littering
the floor, a smile playing round his mouth. 'For someone who's suspended he
seems to be taking an unhealthy interest in this case. I think it's time we had
a serious talk with DS Connors.'

    A
cold feeling was forming in the pit of my stomach. I'd been too tired to wonder
why Terry was waiting for me outside the hospital. I'd put his questions down
to curiosity, but that wasn't what struck me now. He'd claimed he didn't know
where Sophie lived, yet I hadn't told him how to get here.

    He'd
already known the way.

    'I've
just seen him,' I said. 'He gave me a lift.'

    Roper's
smile vanished. 'Connors was
here?'

    'He
dropped me off and then went.'

    'Shit!'
Roper reached in his pocket for his phone. 'We need to go. I should—'

    But
before he could finish a shadow stepped through the doorway behind him. There
was a sickening
thunk
of metal on bone as something swung against the
back of his head, and Roper pitched face first on to the ground.

    Breathing
heavily, Terry stood over him with a short length of scaffold gripped in his
hands. His mouth stretched into a snarl as he looked down.

    'Bastard
had that coming for a long time.'

    It
had happened so quickly there was no time to react. I stood there, stunned by
Terry's appearance as much as by the sudden violence. There was a wildness
about him, a look of fevered desperation. His once-neat hair had been snagged
by branches, and his shoes and trouser bottoms were splashed with mud. Panting,
he wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he lifted his gaze to me.

    'Jesus,
David. Why couldn't you just have got your things and left?'

    My
mind was starting to function again. I hadn't heard a car engine: Terry must
have parked and doubled back across the fields. Perhaps when he saw Roper's car
in the lay-by. The policeman lay where he'd fallen. Dark blood glistened on his
head, nearly black in the lamplight. I couldn't see if he was breathing or not.

    Terry
raised the pole threateningly as I started towards them. 'Don't try it!'

    I
stopped, keeping out of reach. 'Put the pole down. Just think what you're
doing.'

    'You
don't think I have? Christ, you think I
want
this?' A spasm of anguish
crossed his face. He lashed out and kicked a piece of clay. It ricocheted off
the scaffolding that propped up the curving wall of the kiln and skittered off
into darkness. 'You want to blame somebody, blame Keller! This is her fault!'

    I
thought about what Roper had said. About the ball of clay, now in fragments on
the floor. 'What was she hiding that was so important?'

    At
first it seemed he wasn't going to answer. He shook his head, but his grip on
the scaffolding pole seemed to loosen.

    'Zoe
Bennett's diary.'

    It
took me a moment, but then I began to understand. Zoe, the extrovert of the two
Bennett twins, who, unlike her sister, preferred partying to studying. And
Terry, a womanizer still smarting after being forced to transfer from the Met
in disgrace. What better way to salve his ego than with a pretty, vivacious
seventeen-year-old with aspirations to be a model?

    'Your
name was in it,' I said.

    His
shoulders slumped. The scaffolding pole had sunk lower, almost forgotten.

    'I'd
been seeing her for a couple of months. The photos don't do her justice; she
was a real looker. Trouble was she knew it. She'd got it all worked out: how
she was going to go to London, sign up with a big model agency. She was
impressed because I'd been with the Met, could tell her stories about Soho and
all the rest.'

    He
grinned at the recollection, but it quickly faded. His mouth twisted.

    'Then
I saw her with someone else. Some cocky young bastard in his twenties, flash
car. You know the sort. We had a row. Things got out of hand. I hit her and she
went mental. Screaming at me, saying she'd see to it I got sacked, that she'd
say I raped her. We were in my car and I was scared people would hear. I just
wanted to shut her up, so I got hold of her throat, and . . . and it was just
so fucking
quick.
One minute she was struggling, and the next. . .'

    I
looked down at Roper, dead or unconscious at his feet. 'Jesus, Terry . . .'

    'I
know
! You think I don't
know
?' He'd lowered the scaffolding pole
altogether, but still gripped it in one hand. He ran the other through his
hair, his face stricken. 'I'd got a lock-up, so I hid her body in there. I
thought ... I thought if I didn't do anything it'd be treated like just another
teenage runaway. Zoe was always saying how she was going to go to London.'

    
'She
was
seventeen!'

    'Oh,
don't start,' he snapped, with a flash of his old temper. 'What was I going to
do? Give myself up? That wouldn't bring her back! I'd got Debs and the kids to
think about. What was the point in spoiling their lives?'

    I
felt sickened. 'Did you kill her sister as well?'

    Terry
seemed to flinch. He no longer looked at me, but there was something like shame
in his eyes. 'Lindsey found Zoe's diary,' he said dully. 'There was my phone
number, details of how often we'd met. What we'd done. She didn't tell anyone
because she didn't want to hurt Zoe's reputation. She thought because I was a
police officer I might be able to help find her.'

    
Christ.
So she'd gifted Terry with the only piece of evidence that could implicate him
in her sister's death. And, in the process, made herself the only witness.

    'Don't
look at me like that!' Terry yelled. 'I
panicked,
all right? If that had
come out it would have been all over! I couldn't afford to be questioned. And
she looked so much like Zoe, just seeing her was like she was accusing me!'

    'And
Tina Williams? Why did . . .' I broke off as I realized.
Another teenager,
dark-haired and pretty.
'She was just a decoy, wasn't she? So it'd look
like a serial killer and take attention off the twins.'

    A
strange look came over Terry's face, as though he was confronting a part of himself
he barely recognized. He shrugged, but he still wouldn't look me in the eye.

    'Something
like that.'

    The
shock had gone now, replaced by anger and disgust. 'I
saw
her, Terry! I
saw what you did! For Christ's sake, you
stamped
on her face!'

    'She
was already dead!' he yelled. 'I lost it, all right? Jesus, you think I wanted
to do it? Any of it? You think I
enjoyed
it?'

    
It
doesn't matter: they're still dead.
But it explained a lot of things. Like
Terry's behaviour during the search, especially when Monk inexplicably offered
to take us to the graves. Pirie had been closer to the truth than we'd realized
when he'd said that Tina Williams' horrific injuries might be an expression of
her murderer's shame, an attempt to erase his own guilt. That hadn't made sense
when we'd thought Monk was the killer, but it did now.

    No
wonder Terry's life had fallen apart.

    Through
the doorway behind him I saw it was growing darker outside. The lamp cast a
cocoon of brightness, beyond which the kiln's gloom seemed to deepen. I'd no
idea how long I'd been there, but I couldn't expect any help. Roper still
hadn't moved, and from what he'd said no one knew where he was. Somehow I had
to get past Terry, although I'd no idea how. There was nothing nearby to use as
a weapon except broken pottery.

    'Was
DI Jones the best name you could come up with?' I asked, stalling.

    'Worked
that out as well, did you?' Terry actually smiled. He seemed calmer, as though
relieved to be finally confessing what he'd done. 'It was either that or Smith.
Monk was too good an opportunity to miss. I'd still got some of Zoe's things
hidden away, but I had to move fast before his place was swarming with SOCOs. I
wasn't as careful as I should have been. Almost fell over Walker. But I flashed
my warrant card and put the fear of God into him. Said if he kept his mouth
shut I'd look after him.'

    And
for eight years Terry had been as good as his word.
More lives than a bloody
cat,
Naysmith had said.
Always managed to slip off.
Small wonder
when there was a police detective on his side, making sure any evidence was
conveniently lost or mislabelled. Only when Terry had been suspended himself,
and DI Jones finally let him down, had Walker broken his silence.

    And
Monk had beaten him to death for it.

    Terry
would have guessed why. He must have been frantic when

    Monk
escaped. Especially when there was still one piece of evidence that could link
him to Zoe Williams.

    'How
did Sophie get the diary?' I asked.

    'Nosy
bitch went snooping through my things. It was about a year after the search.
Debs had kicked me out so I was renting a flat. Me and Sophie had got together
again. I always meant to get rid of the diary, but I never did. Stupid really.
I'd hidden it, but Sophie always was good at finding things.'

    He
sounded bitter. Part of me registered that their relationship wasn't the fling
Sophie had claimed, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that. I thought I saw
Roper's hand moving, but kept my attention on Terry.

    'How
much did she know?'

    'Only
that I'd been screwing Zoe, the diary made that much obvious. She was more
pissed off because it was while I'd been seeing her than anything. She went
ballistic. She wouldn't tell me what she'd done with the diary, only that it
was somewhere "safe".' His face turned ugly at the memory. 'It didn't
matter so much when Monk was in prison. She couldn't tell anyone without
admitting she'd been withholding evidence. But when Monk escaped . . . That
changed everything.'

    'That's
why you panicked and came to see me. To see if Sophie had told me anything.'

    'I
didn't
panic.
I just wanted the fucking diary back! And I know Sophie.
If she was going to go running to anyone from back then, I knew it'd be you.'