BURIED CRIMES: a gripping detective thriller full of twists and turns (23 page)

Chapter 34: Whatever Makes You Happy

Saturday morning, week 4

Pauline Stopley was feeling restless. She couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything, and it worried her. She felt a deep sense of betrayal by people she’d trusted two decades ago, people who’d vanished or died during the intervening years. Her self-confidence had received a severe jolt. She was beginning to feel as if she were turning into her sister, with her super-sensitive nerves. It didn’t help that she couldn’t find Dorothy. She was the only person who might be able to explain the sequence of bewildering events that had been happening lately. Dorothy had always lived in Dorchester, so she might be able to shed some light on the key periods when Pauline had been away on tour or living elsewhere. How could she have been kept so utterly in the dark for so long?

She rose from her desk and walked to the window, looking down blankly on the street below. Who was she hoping to see? No one. There was no one left. Jill had called her earlier to say that their affair was off for the time being. News of it had got out and Jill needed to go into damage limitation mode. She might (might? Ha!) get in touch the following week if things settled down quickly. Now she needed time to work out what would be best for her and the family. Not much hope there.

John was dead. Unsophisticated, straightforward John, so convinced he was worldly-wise, but in reality a complete innocent when it came down to the nitty-gritty physicality of sexual liaisons. Dead. Did he deserve that? Pauline sighed. The problem was, she didn’t really know. She didn’t know where she stood with anybody any more. And what was more, she’d seriously antagonised the police. Why? Why had she acted in such an arrogant way? She couldn’t possibly have selected two worse people to come on to. For god’s sake, the husband and daughter of the very detective who was in charge of the case! What had been going on in her head? Now they’d be watching her every move. Was her phone bugged? Had a tracking device been planted on her car? Was she being tailed everywhere she went? She couldn’t tell. Were they allowed to do such things in modern Britain? She just didn’t know and wasn’t in the right mental frame to find out. She needed a friend to talk to who would offer reassurance, but there was nobody. How deeply would the police probe? How far back would they go? Pauline sensed that a lot of hidden truths were about to be exposed, and her life would never be the same again. The whole messy business was out of control. Fuck that stupid, selfish sister of hers! Pauline had rarely needed to call on her for help, and now that she desperately needed to speak to Dorothy the self-obsessed bitch was nowhere to be found. Maybe she’d mentioned something to the church minister before she’d walked out on her cleaning job and disappeared from Dorchester. He might have some idea of where Dorothy had gone.

* * *

Dorothy Kitson couldn’t believe her luck. Larry was a human ramrod. Despite the fact that he was in his early fifties, he could have sex twice a day, every day. He made her gasp, groan. She was delirious with pleasure, and it wasn’t just the sex. He took her to small cafés and restaurants that he knew, relatively cheap but serving the most delicious food. He tipped rum cocktails into her, and he tickled her in the most sensitive parts of her body. Right now they were sitting on a promenade seat looking out to sea, and she could feel his fingers starting to move lightly into her armpit. She turned to him.

‘Don’t, Larry. Please. I’m far too full after all that food. You’ll make me sick.’

He grinned broadly at her. ‘Sure thing. You’re the boss.’

She leant her head on his shoulder, breathing in the faint smell of pineapple that seemed to cling to his skin. Did he use a skin cream? How unusual was that for a man? ‘What day is it today?’ she asked. ‘You’ve left me in such a whirl I can’t remember.’

He laughed. ‘Saturday. The weekend at last, but it’s not a break for me. I’m back on duty this afternoon. It’s our busy time at the hotel.’

‘Oh, no! I’m due to go home tomorrow,’ she wailed. ‘What will I do?’

‘You only live twelve miles away, you know. There’s a bus every hour.’ He tickled her stomach gently. ‘You’re nearly as nutty as my old mum.’

‘So can I come and see you?’

‘Of course, you sexy little mama. I’ll be here the whole summer. And I can come and visit you. I know Dorchester well. Don’t you worry, little darling.’ His face crinkled into a broad smile.

‘Have you been there often then?’

He nodded. The smile left his face. ‘I was there for a year or two, a guest in a certain well-known local hostelry. Caught by the Weymouth cops distributing ganja, among other things. But that was a long time ago and I’ve been a good boy ever since.’ He winked. ‘Well, pretty good, anyway.’

Dorothy looked shocked, and Larry laughed and tickled her again. ‘I was a youngster, Dottie. Life was different then. I’ve steered clear of the stuff ever since just so’s I stay out of trouble. I don’t want that hassle again.’

She nodded. ‘How come they let you stay here? Why didn’t they send you back to Jamaica?’

‘I’m as British as you, cheeky lady. I was born in Brixton. I have dual citizenship though. I go back to Jamaica each winter to see some of my family who stayed put. We have a place near the beach and I can really chill.’

Dorothy remained silent for a while. ‘I’d like you to come and visit me, but . . . you might meet my sister. I’m scared I’d lose you.’

Larry sat back and looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘She’ll pinch anything of mine if it takes her fancy. Boyfriends, clothes, everything. She’d take one look at you and that would be that. You wouldn’t stand a chance. She meets men all the time and just discards them when she’s had enough. They follow her around like puppies. It’s pathetic to watch. She used to be a famous actress. She still puts on a show if she’s trying to impress someone. It makes me sick. How can men be so stupid?’

Larry shook his head, laughing. ‘We’re all shallow creatures. Is that what you mean? Well, you’re probably right. My younger brother’s a professor of biochemistry and he says that we’re all ruled by our hormones. Men and women. I won’t come and visit if you don’t want me to — if you think I’ll be a rabbit to your sister’s foxiness.’

Dorothy giggled. ‘I really don’t want to go tomorrow. Is there any way I can stay?’

‘Not in the hotel, there isn’t. There’s a hen party this weekend and it’s booked solid.’

‘Where do you live?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m just in a room in the staff annexe. There’s a small sitting room and a shared kitchen. It just wouldn’t be any good for you to stay there, Dottie, not for more than a day or two.’

‘So you don’t rent or own a separate place?’

‘I send money back to Jamaica. I have my place there. My cousins live in it and keep it clean for me. That takes most of my spare cash.’

She grasped his hand. ‘I’ll find a way. Maybe I’ll move out of my little flat in Dorchester and look for a place here. What do you think?’

He nodded slowly, a smile on his face. ‘Whatever makes you happy, little Dottie.’ He poked a finger into her ribs, until she started giggling. He lifted his hand to massage her breast. ‘Whatever makes you happy.’ He paused, still smiling. ‘How about going back to the hotel? I give a great body massage. You’ll love it.’

Oh, bliss, Dorothy thought. To have discovered a man like this, and in her middle years!

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she said.

Unfortunately she didn’t get a chance to enjoy the feel of Larry’s firm, soft fingers probing her flesh. Someone was waiting for her in reception.

Her sister, Pauline Stopley.

Chapter 35: Welcome to the Club

Saturday afternoon, week 4

Sophie spotted a parking slot opposite the hotel, pulled up against the kerb and switched the engine off. She looked across the road. A fish and chip shop, an antiquarian book seller. A hotel. All exactly as described by her daughter, Jade. She was about to open the car door when she saw a familiar figure come out of the hotel, pause, glance about as if to gain her bearings and slowly walk away eastwards, unsteadily.

‘Well, would you believe it,’ she said. ‘Did you see her?’

Rae nodded. ‘Our friend Pauline Stopley, ma’am. So was she telling us the truth when she said she didn’t know where her sister was?’

‘Who knows? She’s one of the best liars I’ve ever come across. She’s so smooth and controlled, you really can’t tell whether whatever she says is the truth or not. I gave up trying over a week ago. I decided not to believe anything she told me. Now, with what we found out yesterday? I still don’t know. But let’s leave her be for the moment. She’s not the reason why we’re here. Can you get out of the car and try to see where she’s going? She’ll recognise me if she looks back and I’m not ready to talk to her again at the moment.’

Rae got out of the passenger door and stood at the kerbside. She craned her neck to watch the slender figure as it made its way along the esplanade.

‘She’s just stopped at a parked car. A red VW Golf? Isn’t that hers? She’s just got in. I think she might be crying.’

Sophie nodded. ‘Okay. Let’s forget about her for the time being and concentrate on Dorothy.’

From outside the Lake Guesthouse looked staid, even sombre, but the interior was much brighter. There was a light and airy feel to the reception area, and Sophie and Rae could see the modern furniture in the lounge. The hotel looked well-kept. A middle-aged man with a goatee beard and skin like smooth chocolate came out of a sitting room and walked towards the reception desk.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked. His voice was warm and friendly and he spoke with a pronounced Caribbean accent.

‘We’re police officers. We’re looking for Dorothy Kitson,’ Rae said, and held out her warrant card.

Concern flashed across his face. ‘Just a moment,’ he said. He came out from behind the desk and went into the lounge.

Sophie and Rae heard a murmur of voices. The discussion seemed to last longer than might be expected in such a situation. Finally the man returned.

‘She’s in the lounge. She’s very upset by something another visitor has just said to her. Please treat her gently, won’t you?’ He looked at them, almost pleading, his gaze settling on Sophie. She smiled thinly.

‘That will entirely depend upon the level of co-operation we get, Mr . .?’

‘Waters. Larry Waters. I’m the assistant manager here and I’ve become rather fond of Dorothy since she arrived. She’s a bit fragile.’

She nodded, looking at him closely. ‘Are you in a relationship with her, Mr Waters?’

He nodded. Silently he pointed to the open doorway. The two detectives walked into the sunlit room, whose windows looked across the esplanade to an expanse of blue sea beyond. There was only one occupant. She was sitting in an easy chair at a window table, staring out to sea. Her fingers were nervously clutching at the sleeve of her dress. As they approached they could see red blotches on her face and tears in her eyes. She glanced up at them, and her eyes rested on Sophie. She looked frightened and vulnerable.

‘I know who you are,’ she whispered. ‘I knew you’d find me, ever since I saw you talking to the vicar in the church.’

‘We spotted your sister leaving. It’s just a coincidence that we came at the same time. We hadn’t arranged it.’

Dorothy nodded slowly. ‘I’ve never seen her like that, not ever. I’ve never seen her cry like that. I’ve seen her in every other mood. She’s been livid with anger, upset, disappointed, frustrated, happy, elated. All those, but never so shocked. I couldn’t calm her. She kept hitting me.’

That explains the bright red marks, Sophie thought. ‘What’s your background, Dorothy?’

‘According to my sister I’m a waster who ruins things. I ruin everything, and she’s right. Everything I’m involved with goes wrong and falls apart sooner or later. Jobs, education, marriages, relationships, everything. I couldn’t stick at any jobs I got. For a long time I’ve just done cleaning jobs.’

‘Did you have plans to be an actress too?’

Dorothy shook her head. ‘I wanted to be an English teacher, but I failed my university exams and had to leave.’

Sophie nodded. ‘Why does Pauline think you ruin things?’

‘You know why. You know what I’ve done. Pauline never knew about the twins until you told her. I kept it from her. I was terrified of how she’d react if she found out. Even when you found the bodies I convinced her they were some teenagers. I may not like her very much but she is my sister, and she’s never done anything truly evil. Not like me.’

‘How did it happen?’

There was a long silence. ‘John and I were together then. We were happy. But when the twins came back they changed everything. It was too sudden and I couldn’t cope. When they were naughty I used to lock them in the cellar. Then winter came. The cellar was freezing and I lit an old paraffin heater so they’d stay warm. I found them the next morning.’ She began to sob. ‘I never meant it to happen. I was frantic. I called John and he went berserk. He told me he’d deal with their bodies but it was finished between us.’

‘But why? Why didn’t you just call the police or an ambulance?’

‘What good would an ambulance have done? They were dead from the fumes. John said it must have been carbon monoxide and I should never have used a paraffin heater in such a poor state and I’d been totally negligent. Anyway, no one knew they were here. When they came I just got a phone call at my flat telling me to be at the bus station at a particular time. No explanation. And there they were. No one with them. Someone had brought them back from Hong Kong, brought them to Dorchester and abandoned them in the café. They told me it was their aunt and that she was already on her way back to Hong Kong. So I brought them to Finch Cottage. It was empty at the time and my flat had no spare room. I didn’t know what to do. I was waiting for Pauline to get back from the States because I just couldn’t handle them. I’ve never been any good with children.’

‘So you locked them in the cellar? Often?’

‘No. Only a couple of times. It was what our parents used to do to Pauline and me if we were naughty.’

‘There was a metal ring set into the wall at the far end of the cellar. Did you ever use it? Did you tie the children to it?’

There was a silence that seemed to last for minutes. Dorothy’s voice was a whisper. ‘I couldn’t let them run around down there, could I? There was all kinds of stuff that could have been dangerous. It could have harmed them. It was only a few times. They could have hurt themselves otherwise.’

Sophie closed her eyes, thinking hard. Rae still had her mouth open in shock. Finally Sophie spoke. ‘Dorothy, you’ll need to come back to Dorchester with us. You need a solicitor and I’ll need a signed statement from you. Do you understand that?’

Dorothy nodded. She looked at the detectives through her tears. ‘Maybe it’s time. I’ve hated myself for twenty years. I couldn’t go on any more, not once Pauline found out.’

‘Did you tell her what happened?’

There was a nod. ‘She didn’t say anything after that. She just started crying and she stared at me. I tried to hug her but she just pushed me away and kept hitting me. She hates me. She’ll hate me forever.’ She paused. ‘I deserve it all. I don’t know how I’ve managed to live for twenty years after what I’ve done.’ She sank back into the chair, her head dropping onto her chest.

‘What about John Wethergill, Dorothy? Can you shed any light on his death?’

There was no answer.

* * *

Late in the afternoon Sophie and Rae finally made the drive to Maiden Castle. One of Europe’s largest iron-age hill forts, its brooding presence dominates the land to the south west of Dorchester. And there, parked under the shoulder of this monstrous structure, was a bright red Volkswagen Golf.

‘Thank goodness,’ Sophie muttered. ‘I was starting to worry, wondering where she was and what she was doing. Then I remembered what Jill Freeman told me.’

‘But the place is huge, ma’am. She could be anywhere. Shouldn’t we just wait here? She’s bound to come back, isn’t she?’

Sophie frowned. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m a bit worried about her. I think I may have misjudged her. I want to have a look around just in case, but you stay here.’

Sophie got out her pink wellies from the car’s boot and slipped her feet into a pair of well-worn, bright pink socks. Rae smiled.

‘Chosen by Jade when she was twelve,’ Sophie explained. ‘I need a new pair of socks but I’ll need to plan the changeover like a military strategy. She used to view these socks and wellies as the most important symbol of our mother-daughter relationship. Dare I suggest a new pair for my birthday?’

‘I noticed that Barry tends to be a bit nervous around Jade,’ Rae said.

‘He has every reason to be. She can floor any man with one withering comment, if she chooses. God knows where she got that particular skill from, certainly not from me. Martin has taken her to too many Shakespeare plays, I expect.’ She paused. ‘If Pauline arrives back here before me, don’t let her go. Here’re my car keys. Block her in if necessary. And if any Jobsworth arrives to lock that gate, threaten him or her with a night in the cells for obstructing the police in their duties.’

Sophie pulled her coat more tightly around her and set off in an anticlockwise direction, guessing that most people did the circuit the opposite way. Not that there were many other people. The afternoon had become overcast. It would be raining soon, she thought, and the wind will start to pick up. She chose the top rampart: from there she should be able to see the lower sections and, with luck, would be able to spot Pauline Stopley. The views were spectacular, despite the cloud cover and the gradually dimming light. Sophie promised herself a visit on a sunny day. She walked on, occasionally meeting small groups of people coming around the site in the opposite direction, but even these grew less as time wore on. Where was the woman? Twenty minutes had passed. That meant that she was about a third of the way around the huge site. Assuming Pauline was walking clockwise, and had at least a twenty minute start on her, she should have met her by now. Maybe she was one of those awkward people who always perform circuits in the unexpected direction. In that case she’d already be back with Rae.

Sophie stopped to gather her breath, ready for the next part of the circuit. Then she saw someone sitting on an outcrop below her, half hidden in shadow. The person was wrapped in a dark blue coat, of exactly the same shade that Pauline had been wearing earlier in the afternoon. Sophie stepped down the grassy bank. The actress heard her footsteps and half turned. She moved to one side, making room for Sophie to sit beside her.

‘I saw you earlier,’ Pauline murmured. ‘Back in Weymouth. I was in my car but I couldn’t drive because I was shaking so much. I got out again and that’s when I saw you, just as you entered the hotel. I needed some air, to be alone with my thoughts. So I came here.’

Sophie nodded. The view to the west stretched out in front of them. Miles of undulating countryside under a sky of darkening, scudding clouds.

‘You know, I guess. She told you?’ Pauline’s voice was thin, as if she was having trouble forcing the words out.

‘Yes. She’s in custody. We’ve charged her with murder, but if what she says is found to be true, it might drop to manslaughter. That won’t be up to me. The prosecution service will decide.’

‘I can’t get my head round it. I just can’t comprehend it. For twenty years she’s been holding on to that secret. My lovely twins. I know you and everybody else are going to say that they weren’t mine, I was only their stepmother, but in the years I had them they became mine. Do you know what it’s like to lose children like that? To realise that you’ll never see them again? Do you?’

Sophie slowly nodded. She answered quietly. ‘I lost a baby twelve years ago, halfway through the pregnancy. He would have been my only son because we already had two daughters. When I lost him I howled the place down for hours. One of the student nurses thought I might be in need of a psychiatrist. The older and wiser staff took her aside and told her to leave me alone and I’d get over it. I did get over it, after a fashion. But I still miss him. Every day I miss him. He was my own flesh and blood. My only son. But it’s true. The pain does lessen with time. What was razor sharp and could shred my emotions like tissue paper has changed to a dull ache.’

Pauline looked at Sophie. ‘I checked with the Hong Kong police every three months to see if they’d been traced. Did you know that? For twenty years. And they were here all the time, in a hole in the ground, put there by my own sister.’ She shook her head from side to side as if to clear her brain of its terrible thoughts.

‘I know. We were in contact with the Hong Kong authorities yesterday and they told us. They also told us that you’d visited at least once a year, every year since the twins vanished. I spoke myself to the officer in charge this morning. What can I say?’

Pauline burst into tears so suddenly that Sophie was taken aback. She put her arm round the other woman’s shoulder and felt the great heaving sobs that racked through her body. ‘Life can be a totally fucked up experience for some of us, Pauline, and not due to our own actions. Christ, don’t I know it. All I can say to you is, welcome to the club.’ She sat in silence for a while, her arm still around Pauline’s shoulder. ‘We need to know it all, Pauline. Not just what you know happened all those years ago, but what you suspect happened. You, Dorothy, Richard, John and Li Hua. We need to get to the bottom of it. Do you want to tell me now or come back to the station with me? Either way, it’s time to be honest. Were you having an affair with Richard before Li Hua died?’