HIDDEN SECRETS (14 page)

“Are you sure?” she asked incredulously, as the colour drained from her face.

“Let’s go and find out,” he gently squeezed her hand, and smiled.

“Is there something wrong Alex?” Charles asked glancing at Kate.

“I’m needed in reception; help yourself to another scotch, I won’t be long,” he muttered and hurried away with Kate following closely behind.

Ben looked up as Alex approached him.

“Alex, thank god,” he leapt to his feet and shook his hand vigorously.

“It’s good to see you Ben,” he nodded, and glanced over his shoulder at Kate whose face was stern and cold.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Ben pleaded with his wife.

“You look awful; but I’m glad you’re alive. Oh, and I know all about Emma Lewis by-the-way so don’t insult me with any more lies,” she stared at him then turned and walked away.

“Kate please, don’t walk away from me. I’m sorry love, please listen to me,” Ben pleaded with her.

“Let her go Ben,” Alex intervened. “She’s had a lot to contend with over the last few days. Why don’t you take a shower and speak to her in the morning.”

“I don’t really have much choice, do I?” he replied solemnly.

Alex ushered Ben towards the lift and away from Charles Lewis. The last thing he wanted now was a confrontation between the two men.

*****************************

A confrontation of a different kind was occurring at the local Accident and Emergency Department where Anne Parish had discharged herself from the hospital, despite being warned of the consequences.

“We need to keep you in over night for observations, Mrs. Johnson” Anne had given an assumed name.

“And I keep telling you I’m alright,” she insisted pulling on her coat.

“You could have concussion.”

“Where’s my bag?” she demanded ignoring the triage nurses advice.

“In the locker; please listen to me Mrs. Johnson,” she pleaded.

Anne walked away from the nurse in mid conversation. Her head was sore she had to admit, but she would not spend the night in hospital wasting time and letting more and more suffering go by unpunished.

CHAPTER 11

TUESDAY OCTOBER 4TH

Patrick Hinds opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His mind was clear and alert and his conscience clear. Four days had now passed since he had had a drink; still early days but he was prepared to fight the overwhelming urge to reach for a bottle and drain its contents. It did help being away from his home environment and Benny’s bar, but there was always a Benny’s bar in every town and city in the country. If he really wanted to, he could find it, but for now Mrs. Dooley’s fat-drenched breakfast was calling for his attention.

        Locking his door, Pat made his way to the dining room, took a seat at table number twenty five, and was promptly presented with his breakfast. Just as the last mouthful had left his fork, his mobile phone began to ring much to the disgust of his fellow diners.

“I don’t allow those things in my dining room,” Mrs. Dooley informed him as he was about to take the call.

“Sorry, but it’s an important call from work,” he apologised and left the room.

“Hi Pat, its Danny I’ve got some interesting information for you have you got a pen handy?”
Pat fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a pen-which was encrusted with bits of tobacco and fluff- and wiped it on his jacket lapel.

“Just a sec mate, right fire away.”

“Shirley’s managed to trace Ben Preston and listen to this, he died thirty years ago. A freak accident with a crane on a building site quite gruesome so I believe, but even more interesting,” he paused. “Gerry Parrish and Ben Preston are the same person. Parish took on Preston’s identity and obtained a birth certificate and passport. He’s been living with this alias for ten years at least. He was married to a woman name, just a minute; here it is-Anne Austin- whom he never divorced before he married his present wife. So our Mr. Preston is a bigamist no less.”

“That’s very interesting Pat; I don’t suppose you have an address for Mrs. Parrish.”

“Not really; but the family used to live in Lincolnshire you could start there. The last address is in Stow, twenty one Burnham Crescent, write it down.”

“It’s a bloody long drive from here Pat.”

“Had you got something else planned?”

“I don’t suppose so, but there’s been a murder at the hotel. Preston was knocking off this young woman, and now she’s been found strangled.”

“This could be a good story Pat stay with it, and off the booze, O.K?”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that,” he reminded him.

“I’ll speak to you when I get to Stow, thanks Danny.”

*********************************

In an extremely agitated state, Anne Parish glared intently at her young co-conspirator, who now cowered in fear. Lacking in intelligence and unable to comprehend the gravity of his actions, he attempted to defend himself.

“I only did what you told me to do,” he pleaded.

“When did I tell you to rape her?” she lurched forward.

“I just got carried away; I tried to kiss her and she started screaming,” he backed away.

“Have you got any idea how pathetic that sounds?” she raised her voice.

Joseph stared at her hardly recognising the woman he had met two years previously in a  Brixham Hotel- owned by Alex Lawton- where she was a guest. Employed as a waiter, Joseph soon realised they both shared the same loathing of what they perceived as animal cruelty, and it hadn’t taken much persuading to convince Joseph to join the cause. He hadn’t known at the time however, how extreme her views were. All he had anticipated were peaceful protests and marches in the name of humanity, but that was not what Anne epitomised, and now he deeply regretted the day he met her.

“I told you to make it look like an accident,” she yelled at him.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he yelled back.

“Why did you try to kiss her?” she spoke slowly and deliberately as she inched forward.

“Leave me alone,” Joseph turned his back on her, but she grabbed him firmly by the shoulder and spun him round.

“Have you seen the morning papers? It says the killer painted the victims’ face with cosmetics, and left a note in her hand. You may as well have signed your name you bloody idiot.”

“I could go away for a bit until it calms down,” he suggested.

“If you’ve jeopardised the cause you’re on your own. We’ll cut you off Joseph, we don’t carry passengers,” her eyes blazed with rage.

“I’ll give you one last chance, but if you mess this up you’re finished,” she warned.

“I won’t I promise,” he mumbled.

“Get your coat we’re going for a walk.”

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Wait and see, come on hurry up and don’t speak to me again,” she strode ahead of him.

Joseph struggled to keep pace with Anne as she turned off the main High street and into St. Margaret’s Court, a smart residential area of Ashburton. Taking care that not one was in the immediate vicinity, she glanced around. Outside a large Victorian town house she stopped and turned to Joseph.

“Wait here and keep a look out. Just whistle if you see someone, can you manage to do that?”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Then keep your bloody eyes open,” she warned.

Anne ran down a short flight of stairs and kicked in the door of the basement where Ben had been imprisoned. His briefcase was still there in the corner, and after making a quick check of the room for any incriminating evidence, she picked it up. An old sink unit lay rusting in a corner of the dank basement and she took a bottle of methylated spirit from the back of the cupboard. The lid was tightly screwed in place and she struggled to remove it. When it eventually yielded, she sprinkled a liberal covering of the flammable liquid onto the few items of furniture. Picking up the briefcase, she struck a match, tossed it onto the shabby sofa, and hurried towards the door.

Outside, Joseph tentatively scanned the street until Anne reappeared.

“Come on let’s go we need to get rid of this case; my car’s around the corner.”

As she drove towards Exeter, Joseph turned on the radio to listen to the news.

The usual local issues were reported, followed by the national news. Emma Lewis’s identity had not been released; the newsreader merely repeated the same information from the previous broadcast. Joseph switched off the radio and drummed his fingers on the side of the door in boredom.

“Will you stop that doing that, it’s very irritating,” she snapped.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asked.

“To the canal.”

“The canal; why?”

Ignoring his question, she turned off the main road and drove along a rough path beside Exeter canal, where she brought the car to a halt.

“Get out, and take the case with you.”

Ignoring her brusque demand, Joseph picked up the case and opened the car door. The unusually warm October sun attracted a host of visitors to the canal side, and Anne now regretted her choice of venue. A sustained period of heavy rain had reduced the footpath to thick mud which hindered their progress. Wearing inadequate footwear which were now encrusted with mud, Anne decided to take an alternative route. In the distance she spotted a bridge and turned in that direction.

“Let’s head towards the bridge, it seems quieter that way,” she suggested.

The couple walked for about half a mile and then crossed over onto a gravel path. When she was certain they were alone, Anne stopped and turned to Joseph.

“Give me the case and go and find some heavy bricks.”

“What for?”

“Why do you always have to question everything I say? Just do it, get some bricks or stones now.”

Joseph walked towards the hedge and fumbled around in the soil beneath, before he managed to unearth three reasonably large stones.

“Will these do?” he asked.

“Get some more they’re not heavy enough.”

After another search, Joseph discovered a house brick, and laid it on the canal bank.

“That’ll do,” she snapped. Noticing a couple approaching she ordered him to sit down beside her. Taking a carton of cigarettes from her pocket, Anne offered it to Joseph. Lighting his cigarette, Joseph lay back on the grass to enjoy the late sunshine. The couple walked past them hand in hand and barely noticed their presence as they chatted to each other. Joseph blew smoke into the air and gazed at the cloudless sky. A kestrel hovered above his head, and he smiled at the sight.

“Did you know that kestrels can hover on the same spot as they search for food? Look up there, see, it’s not moved from the same spot it just keeps flapping its wings; they’re amazing birds.”

“How interesting, now if you’ve finished your ornithology lesson could we get on with this, pass me those bricks?”

“I was only telling you, that’s all.”

“You’re at it again; you just can’t shut up can you.”

Joseph didn’t answer he didn’t like the woman; she had no time for anything but the unpleasant things in life. She never took the time to look at the colours of a setting summer sun or admire the beauty of nature. He’d made a big mistake in joining her organisation, and he now deeply regretted his rash actions. Lately, he had found her behaviour too radical. She was a dangerous woman, and he wanted no more to do with her and the extreme organisation she represented.  

“Did you hear me Joseph? Put the bricks into the briefcase.”

Disregarding her remark, he obeyed her order.

“Now throw it into the water as far as you can.”

Without hesitation, Joseph swung the briefcase into the air at the same time that Anne snatched a fallen branch from the canal bank and sent it crashing down onto the back of his skull. Joseph sank to his knees as his blood gushed from an open wound and splashed into the water forming circles that turned pink, before they dispersed. He turned round and looked into her cold eyes, her expression emotionless and evil.

“Why have you done this?”

No words left her lips as she stared directly at him and kicked him with all the force she could summon, into the dark murky waters of the Exeter canal. He fought desperately to stay afloat, but in his weakened state his body sank beneath the water within a few minutes. A stream of bubbles rose to the surface and then dissipated, as his young life faded away.