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

CHAPTER FOUR

May 10th. Seven-thirty pm.

Janet felt weary. She opened the storeroom and pushed the vacuum cleaner inside. Only three weeks left before she retired from the Grasmere Academy. Seven years she'd worked here and on many occasions had almost left, until her friend Libby needed an evening job and she'd recommended her to Mr Beresford. After barely tolerating the previous cleaner, she'd found Libby a joy to work with. Now she looked forward to her shifts, especially the tea breaks when they always had a laugh.

Because of the buffet in honour of the important guest, Janet had offered to work extra 3time. She'd arrived just after five and made her way to the dining room to tidy up. Then she'd loaded the large dishwasher and mopped the floors while Libby cleaned the science rooms.

As she locked the storeroom door, Janet heard a noise. When she'd first started the job there were occasions when she'd felt scared. The Academy was a big building with several exits and entrances vulnerable to anyone determined to break in. They'd had a few attempted burglaries, but so did most big schools. Back then she'd worried about someone walking in undetected and attacking her. She was used to the noises Libby made and it definitely wasn't her. If a member of staff intended to stay late, they always informed her when she started her shift. Janet had felt safer after the school employed a security guard but cuts in the budget meant he had to go. Thanks to the parents raising a substantial amount of cash, Mr Beresford had a sophisticated alarm system installed.

She listened carefully but didn't hear the sound again. Confident everything was okay she headed off to a small room allocated to the cleaning staff. Libby had cleaned the lecture hall earlier and afterwards had talked excitedly about the foreign visitor. Janet paid little attention to the internal workings of the Academy. She knew all the members of staff but hardly spoke to them unless she had to. Libby's teenage boys attended Grasmere. If she wanted to hear the latest gossip, Libby provided it via her sons. Janet's children were grown up; her own son lived in London, her daughter and children directly opposite in the same square.

Janet took off her overall and ran the brush through her hair. She was about to put her coat on when she heard the noise again. This time she feared it was an intruder. After all the years at the school, she knew every sound, yet the prospect of investigating the source scared her. As soon as Libby finished, she decided, they would go together. Opening her handbag, she checked she had enough change for the bus, it was at that moment she heard the first scream, followed by a series of high pitched screeches that sent a massive jolt through her body. For several seconds she couldn't move until adrenaline propelled her forward into the corridor where she saw Libby stumbling along with her hands outstretched. Janet rushed towards her and it was then she saw the blood. 'Come,' Libby gasped, holding out a bloodied hand. 'Come quickly.'

Janet's legs shook so badly she thought they'd give way. 'I don't understand Libby. Stand still for a moment, take a few deep breaths.'

Libby nodded and slumped to the garound. Janet helped her up trying to avoid the blood. 'Show me what's happened,' Janet pleaded.

Seconds later Libby turned around and headed back the way she had come. Janet followed until they came to the largest art studio. Janet could see blood on the door handle as Libby moved towards it.

'Don't touch the handle,' Janet shouted. She'd read enough murder mysteries to know about crime scenes. She inched closer, the door was very slightly ajar and she pushed it open with her toe. Inside it was obvious there had been a struggle. Half finished canvases lay across the floor. Someone had deliberately knocked them from the wall and trodden on them. Red stains pooled on the floor.

'He's in there,' Libby said pointing to a partitioned office.

At first, Janet felt confused, wondering what Libby meant. Then she saw the body. Even though she was familiar with the office, her brain didn't connect the dots. Janet moved forward carefully amongst the debris. None of this makes any sense, she thought. I'm just a cleaner who leads a very ordinary life. Why should this happen to me? She turned to face Libby who was shivering and realised she was in shock. 'Let's go back to our cubbyhole and have a cup of tea,' she said.

Libby started to cry and suddenly Janet felt very strong. Stronger then she'd felt for a long time. They walked slowly and Janet felt no urgency to contact the emergency services. She wanted to sort Libby out first, because she knew they'd be stuck here for hours. When Libby settled down, she'd keep herself busy until the police arrived and try to forget about the knife sticking out of Keith Wilson's chest.

CHAPTER FIVE

Detective Constable Wayne Eldridge propped his feet on the table and balanced his laptop on his stomach. Apart from a couple of junior detectives huddled together in the far corner, the incident room was empty. He looked up at the wall clock and saw that it was nearly eight o'clock. The two rookies would be off home soon and he would have the place to himself. Thank God, he thought, as he clicked on "The Portal of Fate" icon on his desktop. His Uncle Frank had bought him the fantasy role-play game for his birthday at the end of April. Initially Eldridge assumed it was a kid's game and had thrown it into a drawer and forgotten all about it until a few days ago. While he waited for the game to load Eldridge thought about the short romance he'd enjoyed with his colleague Katie Gardiner. It had come to an abrupt end after he had turned up drunk at her mother's house. Afterwards, much to his surprise, depression had set in. On the second night of his new single status, he'd needed a distraction other than alcohol and remembered the game. Now he was addicted, to the point where he'd started to play at work. In a relatively short space of time, he had reached level fifty-three thanks to Park Road HQ experiencing a quiet spell.

Miss Goody Two Shoes and her slave, Eldridge's new name for DI Elizabeth Jewell and DS Patterson, were busy trying to solve a spate of burglaries at a warehouse in Gloucester. From what he'd heard, the company supplied erotic goods, including certain illegal bondage paraphernalia and DI Jewell had vowed that after arresting the owners, she would shut the place down.

For the next twenty minutes, Eldridge was absorbed in fighting an army of Runeroons and didn't hear DCI Liam Yeats approaching.

'Get on your feet Eldridge.'

Eldridge ignored the command. The next thing he knew, a strong hand grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him to his feet while the other one rescued his laptop from falling onto the floor.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at? And I don't mean the rubbish on here,' he hissed, holding the laptop up.

Eldridge had been lucky. Since Yeats' arrival at the beginning of March, he'd had very little contact with him. On Yeats' first day at Park road he'd introduced himself to the squad explaining he was replacing DCS Daly due to unforeseen circumstances. So far, Yeats hadn't interfered in CID's day-to-day workings, spawning speculation that he was too busy pen pushing to take notice of what everyone was doing. Looking into his steel grey eyes Eldridge realised they had all made a huge mistake.

'Sorry Sir,' Eldridge stuttered, worrying about his laptop.

Yeats shoved it into Eldridge's chest. 'Put this thing away and don't let me catch you wasting time again.' He moved away and then as an afterthought turned back. 'Make sure you're in my office in ten minutes.'

Eldridge opened his desk drawer and slid the computer in. Trust him to be the first person to get on the wrong side of the Irishman, the name most of CID had given their new boss. No one knew very much about him other than he came from Belfast.

'Know your enemy,' DI Elizabeth Jewell had told them all after she first met Yeats on Valentine's Day. Her words had encouraged plenty of illicit internet use trying to find out more about him.

Eldridge went into the men's toilets and tried sprucing himself up. He needed a haircut badly and wished he'd put on a clean pair of jeans. Five minutes later, he was on his way to what used to be Daly's office. Eldridge missed his old boss, after a rocky start and several warnings the old devil had given him a chance to redeem himself on the Harry Steele investigation. Underneath the bluster and comedy act, Daly was a fair and experienced officer. Now Eldridge had to deal with this new bloke who he suspected was the complete opposite.

On his way, Eldridge hoped he wouldn't bump into anyone, especially Katie Gardiner. Now she was going to join CID permanently there would be no way of avoiding each other. Apart from any other issue, she was clever and Eldridge could see a problem looming, fierce competition. As soon as he entered Daly's old office, he noticed the transformation. Rumours had circulated about the makeover. Eldridge looked around and was impressed.

Stripped bare of all the old shelves and unnecessary clutter it looked bigger. White walls and the laminate floor had replaced yellowing woodchip and the stained grey carpet. He couldn't see the Lloyd Loom chair anywhere. It too, had gone. Yeats lounged in a black leather armchair behind a solid teak desk. He pointed to an identical one. 'Sit,' he said.

Eldridge decided to take the initiative. 'I'm ready to apologise Sir, it's just DI Jewell didn't leave me instructions before she left.'

'Where is she by the way?'

'Griffith's trading estate in Gloucester, still on those porno burglaries. Apparently she's winding things up today.'

'Why aren't you with her?'

Eldridge thought for a moment. He didn't want to disclose that she'd asked him to do another favour for her out of hours. The lean, hard bloke in front of him made him feel uneasy. The legendary Royal Ulster Constabulary had changed its name in two thousand and one to the less intimidating title of The Police Service of Northern Ireland. The first fact Eldridge could be sure of was Yeats had served over twenty years in the force, a proportion of that as a special branch officer in the RUC. The secret was not to mess with him. Feeling edgy, he racked his brains for a convincing reply.

'Basically, she didn't need me. DS Patterson had to go back into hospital for a couple of days at the end of February. A bit of a scare, you know, from his head injury. Anyway, he stayed on desk duty for a bit and I filled in for him. Now he's back. Those two make a great team, so I'm stuck without a partner again.'

'Leaving you free to play computer games in the incident room?'

'I said I was sorry Sir. It won't happen again.'

'If it does...' The desk phone beeped and Eldridge tried not to sigh with relief. If he was lucky, he thought, Yeats might need to go out, allowing him a temporary reprieve.

Eldridge stood up and signalled he was leaving but when he reached the door, Yeats called out to him. 'Don't go anywhere.'

He replaced the phone. 'Do you know the Grasmere Academy?'

'I know where it is.'

'Good.' Yeats said, throwing a bunch of keys at him. 'You can drive.'

'What's happened?' Eldridge asked, noting Yeats' expression.

'I'll tell you on the way.'

Outside in the car park Yeats pointed to a dark blue BMW. It was brand new and top of the range, his spirits lifted immediately. He opened the driver's door and got in.

Yeats fastened his seat belt and said, 'What puzzles me Eldridge is how you made it into CID.'

Eldridge started the engine and reversed
. 'Probably because I've got a first class honours degree
in computer science. I fancied a job in software development
and worked for a big company back in Devon for
a while. Then my best mate applied to join the
police force so I did too.'

'Why move to Gloucestershire
?' Yeats asked.

'I lived at home all the time I
was at uni, and continued to when I started my
first job. Mum and Dad didn't like the idea
of me moving out. I was going nuts and had
to find somewhere further away, a place they couldn't
pop in every day.'

'So you're an only child
?'

'Three older sisters all married with kids. They left home
years ago.'

Yeats nodded. 'I see the picture clearly now
.'

Lansdowne Road was busy. The traffic had piled up at the Montpelier roundabout due to a broken down delivery lorry. Yeats hadn't said a word but Eldridge sensed there was something seriously wrong. Once they got onto the Tewksbury Road, it took another ten minutes to reach the school. Eldridge had visited the school after he first arrived at Park Road. Sent there to deliver a cautionary lecture on safety which he'd found embarrassing, as he wasn't used to public speaking. When he pulled up outside the main entrance, a woman in her sixties was waiting for them. She rushed over to the car before they had time to get out.

'Come quickly. Something terrible has happened.'

She practically ran up the corridor and Eldridge wondered why. Yeats still hadn't said anything. Once they caught up, the woman introduced herself as Janet and explained her co-worker was in a state of shock. She led them to the art department. Janet hesitated by the door to a small office. 'Before we go in I want to tell you I haven't touched anything.'

Yeats pushed open the door and Eldridge followed. Keith Wilson lay on his back, arms and legs splayed. Considering this was his first murder scene, Eldridge didn't feel nauseous or about to faint. Playing the fantasy game he'd got used to violent death on a screen, where the blood and gore didn't smell. He stared at the knife standing perfectly straight and wondered why it hadn't fallen over. Anatomy wasn't his strong point and he wished Yeats would yank it out. Blood on the computer screen was a different colour to the pools on the floor and he shifted his eyes downwards wondering why there was so much. Yeats stood unmoved, no sign of any emotion. He glanced across, his eyes cold and unfeeling. Eldridge took one last look. Wilson's eyes were wide open, his expression more puzzled than scared.

'Get in touch with Grayson,' Yeats shouted.

Eldridge went back into the corridor and pulled out his mobile. Grayson wasn't answering so he left a message. When he went back, Yeats was on his knees examining the body.

Yeats turned to Janet. 'So you waited nearly half an hour before contacting us. Can I ask why?'

'Because I needed to make sure Libby was all right. There was nothing I could do for Mr Wilson.'

Yeats paused before speaking. 'What I want you to do now Janet, is to go back to Libby and stay there until I come and talk to you. You might need to let your family know you'll be late getting home. I'll make sure someone drives you. Before you go, I need the headmaster's number. Another question, was Mr Wilson married?'

'No he wasn't but Ms Kilmartin's head of the art department, she'll know who to contact.'

'Did you get hold of Grayson?' Yeats said to Eldridge.

'No answer. What do you want me to do?'

'Find a replacement Eldridge. I've met Dr Oakley who I gather fills in for him. Tell her I expect her here within the next fifteen minutes.'

Eldridge trundled back into the corridor, scrolled through his phone until he found the number. For all he was facing a severe reprimand over the gaming incident he was pissed off with Yeats' arrogant attitude. He wasn't in the army but it was beginning to feel like it. Dr Oakley was at home, and promised to leave immediately. She sounded nice and he realised he'd never met her before. Anyone was better than Grayson, Eldridge decided. Another bloke who thought the world revolved around him. Yeats was coming out of the art room. 'Let's talk to the cleaners,' he said.

By the time they all squeezed into the little staff quarters it didn't take Eldridge long to feel claustrophobic. Janet put the kettle on and Yeats pulled up a stool next to Libby. 'I understand this has been a big shock, but it's important you answer questions now before you forget,' he told her.

Libby lifted up her head. 'I understand,' she whispered.

'Before you found Mr Wilson did you hear anything suspicious, any unusual noises?'

Libby turned to Janet. 'I didn't, which is strange considering I was closest to the art rooms.'

Janet carried on making the tea. 'I heard something, but I've no idea what it was. I wanted to check there was nobody inside the school, but felt scared. With the new security system, I can't see how anyone could get in. Only the staff could.'

Yeats added sugar to his mug of tea. 'Staff knew the code but no one else.'

'That's what I'm told. Not that many of them come back here at night, only if they forget something or need a bit of peace and quiet to work. I'm nearly always gone before nine o'clock, even after working overtime. After that I haven't a clue what happens.'

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door and a slim redheaded woman poked her head in. 'Can someone point me in the right direction?'

Yeats immediately got up. 'Dr Oakley,' he held out his hand. 'Liam Yeats, I'll show you the way. Eldridge, take over here. I want names and telephone numbers for every staff member including the head teacher. Tell him to get here quickly.'