The Eighth Witch (10 page)

The only conclusion to draw was that Ian Lacey had his own agenda at work here and that he, Sparks, didn’t know the man half as well as he thought he did. And that bothered him.

Sarah came back with the coffee, gave a mug to Sparks and resumed her perch on the couch.

Sparks went back to his seat and set the mug down on a coffee table littered with pamphlets and flyers, most of it relating to feminist issues.

“How would you describe the relationship between Ms. Ireland and Professor Norton?” he said.
 

Sarah thought for a moment. “Convenient,” she said at last.

“Convenient? In what way?”

“It suits them. Sex without commitment.”

“And had Ms. Ireland ever indicated that she wanted more from the relationship than that? That perhaps she wanted more commitment from Professor Norton?”

Sarah Bennett laughed. “Good God, no. Holly likes things just the way they are. As she said once, ‘Henry’s a great fuck, but I wouldn’t want to be washing his socks every week.’ No, Holly’s not into commitment. She rather likes her free spirit status. It’s who she is.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “Has something happened to Henry?”

“Professor Norton’s in hospital. He was attacked on the canal towpath on his way home last night.”

“And you think Holly…”

“We’re not making any assumptions.”

“Well don’t,” Sarah said. “Holly’s the kindest, gentlest person I know. Violence is not in her nature.”

“I’ll bear it in mind. One last question?”

Sarah shrugged.

“Has Professor Norton made any enemies since he’s been living in Ravensbridge?”

“And how the hell would I know that?”

Sparks swallowed the last of his coffee. “Just a long shot.” He got to his feet. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“Look,” she said. “Henry is not the easiest person to get along with. He’s off in his own little world most of the time, but he is very intelligent, and very opinionated. We’ve had some run-ins in the past, but I don’t think anyone takes what he says very seriously, certainly not seriously enough to attack him for it. Is that helpful?”

Sparks smiled at her. “Very,” he said.

He shut the door behind him and walked out onto the street where he’d left the car. He glanced to his left, to the end where the street ended in a brick wall. He walked along to the wall and, standing on tip-toe, peered over it at the torpid water of the canal. Five hundred yards to his right was the bridge where Professor Henry Norton was attacked. He pulled his notebook from his pocket and made a brief sketch, and then went back to his car, started the engine and drove back to the station.
 

Carter was stuck in traffic on his way back from Rochdale. The road was solid with cars and lorries, nose to tail, inching along in a frustrating crawl. He used the time to call Annie and give the bad news about the computer. Next he telephoned Ian Lacey.

“So your guy thinks he can retrieve data from the hard drive? You realize we have IT guys in Bradford who can probably do the same thing?”

“I’m sure you have,” Carter said. “But I trust Ollie Tucker. He’s one of the best there is.”

“Did he give any time scale?”

“He just said it wouldn’t be a quick fix. I’ll give him a day or so, then call. Does that suit?”

“Do I have a choice?” Lacey said.

“No. I don’t suppose you do.”

“Okay. Call me when he’s done. We’ll talk again then.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds and, at first, Carter thought Lacey had rung off, and then he heard him breathing. “Lacey?” Carter said.

“You know what attacked him, don’t you? And it is a what, not a who.”

It was Carter’s turn to lapse into silence.
 

“Carter? Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you,” Carter said.

“And?”

“I have a pretty good idea what attacked Norton.”

“So I’d be wasting my time looking for a young thug or petty criminal?”

“Yes, Inspector, you would.”

Carter could almost hear Lacey digesting this.

“Thought so,” Lacey said. “Perhaps we should talk soon.”

“Yes, maybe we should.”

Lacey rang off. Carter stared at his dead phone, then slipped it back in his pocket and started the car. When he finally did run into Detective Inspector Ian Lacey again, he suspected it was going to be an interesting conversation.

When he got back to Annie’s he found both Annie and Holly sitting in the kitchen. It was obvious Holly had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy and there was a pile of soggy tissues on the table in front of her.

“Any news?” he said.

“No change,” Annie said. “I’ve told Holly she’s welcome to stay here for a few days, if you’ve no objections. I don’t think she should be alone at the moment.”

“I agree,” Carter said. “And I really don’t think it’s my place to raise objections. After all, it’s your house, Annie.”

“Yes, I know. I just thought I should run it by you.”

Carter sat down with the two women and reached for the coffee pot. “I spoke to Lacey and put him in the picture regarding the computer. He’s willing to wait.”

“He seems very amenable,” Annie said.

“Yes, he does, doesn’t he? There’s something else going on there. He wants to talk to me, and I don’t think it’s just about Henry.”

“Did he give you any clues what he wants to talk about?”

“Not really, but he seems more open minded than most of the policemen I’ve come into contact with. He could be a useful ally.”

Holly dropped another sodden tissue on the table, stared at it for a few moments, then scooped up the pile and took them across to the bin. “No more tears,” she said decisively. “I’m really not the crying kind. It’s just that this has come as such a shock. It’s really knocked me for six.” She sat down again and poured herself a coffee. “Do you think the police will find who did that to Henry?”

“They will, or I will,” Carter said.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Holly said.

Carter smiled. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he said. “But I wouldn’t say I don’t like him. Besides, I think the attack last night is a small part of something much larger.”

“Meaning?” Annie said.

“Meaning, Annie, I want you to tell me everything you know about the deaths here. All your theories, all your suspicions. I want to hear them.”

Annie got to her feet. “In that case I’ll put the kettle on again. It’s going to be a long evening.”

Chapter Eleven

It was ten thirty before Annie turned in for the night. Holly had bailed out earlier. At about nine o’clock she pleaded a headache and Annie showed her up to her room. Carter suspected it was less to do with an aching head but more to do with the subject matter of the conversation and the fact that, for Holly, it had been a very stressful day. Once Annie returned she continued listing the circumstances of the deaths in the town and why the nature of them aroused suspicion.
 

“The Gillespies were the last,” she said. “Sophie and Mark. Horrible, horrible deaths. She was skinned alive and he committed suicide by electrocuting himself with a table lamp. The police found him on the floor of their bedroom, draped in Sophie’s skin. The police believe that he flayed her and then, overcome with remorse, killed himself.” She shuddered.

“I remember it,” Carter said.

“You remember it?”

“Vaguely. It made the national press and the TV news. Quite a sensation, I seem to remember.”

“Oh Christ, we had reporters camped all around town. It blew over eventually, but while it was still high profile it was pretty grisly living here.” She thought for a moment. “But if you read about it or saw it on TV then I’m surprised you didn’t make the connection to me. You knew I lived in Ravensbridge.”

“To be quite honest, Annie, at that particular time I was distracted by something nasty that was happening on a rather remote and hostile Scottish island. I had too much on my mind to take much notice of yet another three-ring media circus. What was the outcome of the inquest?”

“Murder and suicide.”

“And those were the last deaths?”

“Yes…but something else has happened since then.” She paused. “Look, I don’t know if this is related to the deaths…but Penny and I think it is.” She was avoiding his eyes.

“Tell me. Let me be the judge.”

“Laura Sallis. She’s disappeared.”

“Who’s Laura Sallis?”

“She worked with Penny and me at the school. Supply teacher. She moved to Ravensbridge two years ago. Bought a house in Trent Street with her mother, Edith. Edith has a form of Alzheimer’s, early stages, but bad enough to make her fairly dependent on Laura.
 

“Anyway, one Monday morning Laura didn’t turn up at school. We didn’t think much about it at first. We knew things at home were difficult for her—Edith can be very demanding. After three days we started to get concerned. Penny got a phone call at the school from one of her neighbors, trying to track Laura down. Penny went round to the house in Trent Street to find Edith living there on her own. The place was a state. Edith had been trying to cook for herself. How she didn’t burn the house down is anybody’s guess. She didn’t know where Laura was and claimed she hadn’t seen her for days.”

“So no explanation about where she’d gone?” Carter said.

“Penny tried, I tried, but we couldn’t get any sense out of Edith. She said that the previous Friday Laura simply packed a bag and walked out of the door without saying goodbye, and she hadn’t seen her since.”

Carter ran a hand through his hair and lit a cigarette. “And that’s it? Perhaps the strain of living with an invalid mother proved too much for her.”

Annie shook her head. “Not Laura. She’s very…capable. Plus, she was devoted to Edith. For her to simply walk out, leaving her to look after herself, is unthinkable.”

“But that would appear to be the case.”

“That’s what the police said.”

“So you reported it to the police.”

“Penny did, and we called in Social Services. We couldn’t leave Edith there to fend for herself.”

Carter took a long pull on his cigarette and stubbed it out. “I’m sorry, Annie, I can’t see a connection with everything else you’ve told me. It’s a sad story, sure, but I can’t see anything sinister there.”

Annie took a breath. “For a couple of weeks before she vanished Laura had been acting oddly.”

“In what way?”

“Leaving early, coming in late, sometimes not coming to work at all.”

“Which again ties in with what you’ve told me about the mother. If she was sick…”

Annie shook her head. “No, there was more to it than that. Laura became secretive, furtive almost. It was as if her whole personality changed. Both Penny and I challenged her about it.”

“And how did she react?”

“Angrily. She told us to keep our noses out of her business.”

“Quite justified, I would have said.”

“No, Rob. You don’t understand. Laura and I were close. We had no secrets from each other.”

“When you say close…” he said and let the question hang.

Annie frowned. “We were close…like sisters. She gave me this.” She reached behind her neck and unclipped the opal pendant, laying it on the table between them. “She wore it all the time. When I admired it she gave it to me.”

Carter stared down at the pendant. “Annie, what are you trying to tell me here?”

“I’m trying to tell you that if there was something troubling her, and if she was planning to leave Ravensbridge, she would have told me. I know she would.” There were tears in Annie’s eyes.

Carter sat back in his seat, not sure where to take the conversation next. Eventually he decided to jump in with both feet. “Were you and Laura lovers?”

Annie bit her lip pensively. “Not lovers, no. I love Laura with all my heart…but no, not lovers.”

“Is it possible then that she met someone and decided to run away with them?”

“It’s possible but unlikely.”

Carter sighed. This part of the conversation was going around in circles. He didn’t think for one moment he was getting the full story from Annie, but was reluctant to delve any further. “Okay. So we’ve got Susan Grant, drowned by her garden hose, Amy Clarke, dead in a house fire, suspected arson, Sylvia Allyn, killed in suspicious circumstances, Helen Brown, suicide, and Mark and Sophie Gillespie, apparent murder and suicide. That’s the six deaths, right? And now we have Laura Sallis, missing. We’ll leave her on the table for the moment and concentrate on the others.”

“Before we do, I was hoping you might try something.”

“Yes?”

“The pendant. As I said, Laura used to wear it all the time. Do you think you could connect to her?”

“Through the pendant, you mean. No, Annie. If you remember our time in Kansas you’ll remember that I was always crap at psychometry.”