The Kat and Mouse Murder Mysteries One to Four: Murder Undeniable, Murder Unexpected, Murder Unearthed, and Murder Untimely
By Anita Waller
4.5/5
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About this ebook
Murder Undeniable
Katerina Rowe, a Deacon at the church in the sleepy village of Eyam, is happily married and her work is rewarding. But everything changes when she discovers the body of a man and a badly beaten woman, Beth, in the alleyway behind her husband’s pharmacy. With help from both Beth and her feisty grandmother, Doris, Kat finds herself trying to solve a baffling mystery.
Murder Unexpected
Kat and Beth, known as Mouse, have started a private investigation business in the sleepy village of Eyam. When a widow asks the sleuths for help, they find themselves searching for the birth mother of the widow’s husband—and are drawn into a deadly chase where nothing is what it seems.
Murder Unearthed
The local police have a double murder to contend with; two dead girls from the same village. Realising the murders aren’t linked, they summon the help of the Connection Investigation Agency, run by Kat, Mouse, and Doris. When it is discovered that one of the murdered girls was pregnant, the case takes an unexpected turn . . .
Murder Untimely
Early one morning, a body is discovered on the grounds of a local estate. The police soon learn that the victim is Nicola Armstrong, the mother of a child who disappeared ten years prior to her murder. The Connection investigators are brought in to help, but when a second body is found at Chatsworth, they must race against time to stop a killer.
Anita Waller
Anita Waller has written and taught creative writing for most of her life, and at the age of sixty-nine she sent a manuscript to her publisher and it was immediately accepting. In total, she has written several psychological thrillers and one supernatural novel. She married her husband Dave in 1967 and they have three adult children.
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Reviews for The Kat and Mouse Murder Mysteries One to Four
22 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5It is a very good series although I think it should be Hannah and Tessa as they really solve most of the murder mystery. Still there are good plots and a couple of the books had twists at the end.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Chick lit posing as a crime novel. At least I got an introduction to this new genre. So many implausibles I lost count.
1 person found this helpful
Book preview
The Kat and Mouse Murder Mysteries One to Four - Anita Waller
The Kat and Mouse Murder Mysteries
Books 1 to 4
Anita Waller
Bloodhound BooksCopyright © 2018 and 2019 Anita Waller
The right of Anita Waller to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2018 and 2019by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
Praise for Anita Waller
A masterclass in suspense. This is Waller at her best.
- Betsy Reavley, bestselling author of Murder at the Book Club and The Optician's Wife
A whirlwind of a read and a poignant one.
- Nicki's Book Blog
If you are after a book that deals with family, relationships and friendship that takes dark turns and twists that will hook you from the very beginning then you really do need to read this.
- Yvonne Me and My Books
Thanks for a great read Anita Waller! When is the next one out??
- Rebecca Burton, If Only I Could Read Faster
This book has lots of gasp out loud moments and plenty that will make you a little weepy too (it did for me anyway).
- Lorna Cassidy, On The Shelf Reviews
This is an engrossing read that I pretty much inhaled.
- Philomena Callan, Cheekypee Reads And Reviews
Waller has an amazing skill to grab you and keep you interested until the very last page.
- Eclectic Ramblings of Author Heather Osborne
WOW! ANITA HAS DONE IT AGAIN. What a bloody brilliant, outstanding, captivating story.
- Gemma Myers, Between The Pages Book Club
This is a very gritty read...Add into the mix, the ruthlessness of the gangsters and you’ve got a cracking crime thriller.
- Claire Knight, A Knight's Reads
It has twists and turns, shocks and honestly at times I had no idea what the end would be!
- Donna Maguire, Donna’s Book Blog
The author really keeps you on the edge of your seat – the twists made me gasp and she sets the atmosphere absolutely perfectly.
- Melisa Broadbent, Broadbean's Books
If you are looking for a crime thriller that is somewhat unnerving as it is every mothers worst nightmare, a fast paced page turner that keeps you guessing. Then I definitely recommend Captor!
- Dash Fan Book Reviews
Also By Anita Waller
The Kat and Mouse Series
Murder Undeniable (Book 1)
Murder Unexpected (Book 2)
Murder Unearthed (Book 3)
Murder Untimely (Book 4)
Murder Unjoyful (Book 5)
Psychological thrillers
Beautiful
Angel
34 Days
Strategy
Captor
Game Players
Malignant
Supernatural
Winterscroft
Contents
Murder Undeniable
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Murder Unexpected
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Murder Unearthed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Murder Untimely
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Acknowledgements
A note from the publisher
Love crime, thriller and mystery books?
You will also enjoy:
Murder UndeniableDedicated with love to my husband, Dave,
with gratitude for his patience and tea-making skills.
No teapots were hurt during the writing
of this book.
I would like to be there, were it but
to see how the cat jumps.
In WEK Anderson (ed), Journals of Sir Walter Scott
11 December 1826
Mountains will go into labour,
and a silly little mouse will be born.
Ars Poetica 1.139
Sweet is revenge – especially to women.
Don Juan (1819-24)
Canto1, st.117
1
8 May 2002
Caroline Phillips and Isla Norman sat on the ground behind the riverside wall; Caroline took out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. ‘Let’s have one now before the lads get here,’ she said, ‘and then they can smoke their own instead of ours.’
Isla giggled. She was a giggly person by default, and at that moment her fascination for Oliver Merchant, with his blonde hair, slim body and piercing blue eyes, was making her even more giggly than usual.
‘They said they’d come after football practice had finished, so they’ll not be here yet.’
‘I heard from Sarah last night. She said to wish Michael happy birthday, and she’s sorry she’s not here to take part.’
‘She like her new school?’ Caroline asked, dragging on the cigarette, and tucking her long brown hair behind her ears. Sarah Hodgson had been a close friend of both of them, and had suffered an enforced move to Essex following her father’s promotion.
‘She just said it was okay, sounded a bit quiet to me.’
Caroline laughed. ‘Quiet? Sarah? What have they done to her?’
‘Dunno. Maybe it’s because it’s another birthday here. We set this up between us, and she enjoyed four birthdays, including her own, then went to sunny Essex. Is Essex sunny?’
‘No more than Derbyshire,’ was Caroline’s considered opinion.
Half an hour later, there was a crack of a football being hit against a wall, and the five lads they had been expecting came around the corner together. Peter Swift picked up the ball and they all crossed to join the girls. Each one took off their backpacks and removed two cans of lager.
The previous year, Anthony Jackson had been the first one of the group to become fifteen, and they had decided to meet by the river, take a can of lager each, and chill out together after school. It had been an excellent couple of hours, and that first birthday had led on to a promise to treat each birthday within the group of eight in the same way.
By the time the second birthday had arrived, Keith Lancaster’s, the lager intake had doubled, and the girls had also brought snacks.
Each birthday had been a celebration of friends, and the only time all eight hadn’t been there was when Sarah had moved away. Now they were seven, and Michael Damms was their honoured guest on this warm early May evening.
During the cold months, they had met twice in Oliver’s garden, using the summer house, but the proximity to his parents tended to put a dampener on their conversations, and their drinking and smoking. It was much nicer down by the river; Michael’s birthday was the 8th of May, and they would soon be meeting up again for Caroline’s benefit on the 23rd of May.
Isla and Caroline produced crisps, peanuts and sausage rolls, and a general discussion was held that if they all chipped in one pound each for every birthday, the girls could get the food without having to dip into their own pockets.
They finished eating, and once again the cigarettes came out.
Only Peter refused to smoke. ‘I’ve had some good news, so there’ll be no more smoke going inside me.’
‘What’s that?’ Anthony asked.
‘It’s top secret, I’ve said nothing at school in case I don’t get accepted, but I’m going for a trial at Stoke City.’
There was silence for a moment, then everybody clapped.
‘That’s brilliant,’ Oliver said. ‘You’ll go to their academy if you’re accepted?’
Peter nodded. ‘Yep, and I’m not jeopardising that for the sake of a fag.’
They all toasted him with what remained in the bottom of their cans, and he blushed. He was the quiet one of the group, unused to the limelight.
Anthony took out a small plastic bag from the front pocket of his backpack. ‘I didn’t know whether to bring these or not,’ he said, ‘but this is a double celebration with Michael’s birthday and Peter’s news.’ He offered the roll-up cigarettes around.
‘What are they?’ Caroline raised her eyebrows; her nervous reaction wasn’t lost on the others.
‘Joints,’ Anthony laughed. ‘They’ll make you feel good. My treat to us for Michael’s birthday.’
‘Drugs?’ Oliver said, reaching across and taking one. He lit it, and took a drag.
There was a slight pause, and then he said, ‘Wow, happy sixteenth, Michael!’
The others, with the exception of Peter, all took one, and quietly sat with their backs to the stone wall, lost in the moment, not speaking, enjoying the new experience.
Darkness had fallen; Peter gathered up all the rubbish and filled two carrier bags. He left the others in their soporific marijuana induced haze and took the bags around to the wheelie bins at the back of the Co-op.
He smiled as he walked back to them; none of them looked capable, or even willing, to walk home. He could hear voices approaching where they were, although clearly on the other side of the stone wall, by the riverside itself. Peter dropped to his knees and held a finger to his lips. He didn’t want anyone seeing his friends like this; if it were the police they could be in heaps of bother.
They all understood immediately; they too could hear the voices.
One man seemed to be crying, to be pleading for something. They heard ‘please don’t do this,’ several times, and ‘I’ll get your money’, followed by a small scream.
As the voices passed within three feet of their positions, they could tell that someone was being dragged, rather than walking unaided.
‘Let’s get him up the deeper stretch,’ they heard the first man say, and Oliver turned around to Keith, mouthing ‘Leon Rowe’. Keith dipped his head in agreement.
They remained behind the wall, not moving, until the voices faded slightly.
Keith spoke quietly. ‘We say nothing of this. That was Leon Rowe and Brian King. Brian lives next door to us, and trust me I know his voice, and Leon’s. Let’s just pretend we never heard this. I feel sorry for that poor bugger, whoever he is.’
They felt suddenly sober.
‘Can we go home?’ Caroline’s voice was quivery.
They picked up their bags, and Oliver carefully lifted his head above the wall. He could see the three men in the distance and, without speaking, waved the others to begin the walk home.
‘Stick to the roads,’ Anthony whispered. ‘We don’t want to be seen by anybody on the river path.’
It was as they were moving quietly away they heard the scream. It was dramatically cut short by a popping sound, almost immediately followed by a splash.
‘We’ll talk tomorrow,’ Anthony said. He swung off to the right, accompanied by Oliver Merchant and Caroline Phillips. The others headed in the opposite direction.
Anthony and Oliver walked Caroline home first, and as she closed the garden gate she leaned over it. ‘Those cigarettes, Anthony… can you get more of them?’
‘As many as you want.’
She nodded. ‘I want.’
‘Me too,’ Oliver joined in.
‘Talk to me tomorrow in school,’ Anthony said, and Caroline disappeared down the path.
Anthony Jackson’s career began that night.
2
April 2017
Katerina Rowe’s first impression of her husband had been he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen; his dark brown, almost-black, skin radiated health, laughter, and, let’s face it, lusty sex appeal.
And she had pursued him just as ferociously as he had pursued her; she knew he loved the way her long blonde hair spread out on the pillow or hung into his eyes as they made love, her blue eyes not visible as she gave in to the pleasure of the moment. And he especially liked the time after when they simply lay in each other’s arms, quietly satiated and content.
He had initially been shocked by her admission that she was still a virgin at thirty, but as he grew to know and love her, he also understood. God had come first in her life.
Deacon at the Parish Church of St Lawrence in the tiny village of Eyam, Derbyshire, had been her aim, and Leon Rowe had come into her life at the precise moment she had achieved that. One year later, they had married in the same church that had celebrated her christening.
And now it was fourth wedding anniversary time, with Leon Rowe still dealing drugs, still arranging
do-it-yourself funerals, and still hiding it from his wife. His legitimate business, owning and running a string of pharmacies, was a cover for the darker business in his world; even his love for the ethereal beauty he had married couldn’t make him give up the income he coveted and received.
Katerina stood in front of the mirror and twirled. It was strange to see herself without a clerical collar, and the red silk dress made her appear almost devilish. Leon stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. They both looked in the mirror.
‘Perfect,’ he breathed, and leaned to kiss the neck that was unusually exposed. ‘But it needs something else.’ His hand went into his pocket, and produced, with a flourish, a small square black box. ‘Happy anniversary, my love.’
She took the box and opened it. Inside was a glowing ruby pendant on a gold chain. ‘Wow.’ She didn’t know what else to say. It took her breath away. Nestling in the box, it resembled a nugget of fire.
He took it from her and removed the jewellery. Fastening it around her neck, he smiled at the expression on her face.
She touched it lightly and shivered. ‘Thank you… I’m a bit stuck for words. It’s exquisite. And it goes perfectly with my dress.’
He laughed. ‘And if you had settled on a blue dress for tonight, it would have been a sapphire.’
She leaned her back into his chest and looked into the mirror once more. ‘And here’s me thinking you’re so clever. You spoil me, you know. I really don’t need material things…’
‘Maybe not, but I need to give you material things, occasionally. I love you, Katerina Rowe, so stop moaning. You taking a jacket? It’s still really warm out.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s lovely to be able to go out without one, for a change. And we’ll be in the taxi anyway.’
She picked up her bag, gold to match her shoes, and walked out of the room.
‘Come on then, lazybones, let’s get on our way. I’m ready for this steak.’
Enid Silvers was quiet. Victor, her husband, felt this was so unusual that it merited a comment.
‘You okay?’
She looked up, startled out of her day-dreaming. ‘I’m fine. Just… contemplating.’
‘Contemplating what? The universe? The gas bill? Your belly button?’
‘It’s funny you should mention a belly button. I was sitting here imagining the patter of tiny feet from grandchildren. Do you think Katerina will ever give us one? She’s thirty-five, her clock’s ticking.’
‘Does she want a baby?’
‘I don’t know. I daren’t ask. I mean, who would have thought five years ago she would meet someone? I always thought she was married to the church, so her falling for Leon was a shock and a half. Should I ask her?’
Victor laughed. ‘I wouldn’t advise being blunt. Don’t just say, Are you planning on having kids?
She’ll freak out. You’ll have to be subtle, and you don’t do subtle.’
‘Victor!’
‘Don’t Victor
me. You know exactly what I mean. Tread softly, take the wellie boots off. She’s a gentle soul, is our Katerina, and I reckon she’ll let us know soon enough. Your suggesting she might want a baby might just make her dig in her heels for another couple of years.’
Enid said nothing. What if there were a problem? Maybe they’d been trying, and it hadn’t happened. Maybe that hunk of a man was infertile, or maybe Katerina had a problem. She was only a slip of a thing…
Enid would ask her, she could do subtle. Maybe.
The restaurant was busy, but Leon had specified the corner table and so they got it. The waiter held the chair out and Katerina sat down, grateful she didn’t have to walk any further. Her everyday flat shoes that she wore during the week hadn’t prepared her for the discomfort of strappy gold high heels, and she eased her feet so that the shoes were half on and half off.
‘I’ve only walked fifty yards,’ she whispered, ‘and my feet don’t like it.’
Leon grinned. ‘I’ll carry you back.’
‘I might hold you to that.’
He picked up the menu and looked at his wife. ‘You’re beautiful.’
‘Why thank you, kind sir. I might say the same about you.’
‘Shall we just go home and go to bed?’
‘What? When I’ve worn these shoes? Not likely.’ And she looked down at her own menu.
The waiter watched them carefully; giving them his full attention, as if his job depended on it.
As soon as Leon Rowe laid down his menu and glanced across to him, the waiter moved.
‘Are you ready to order, sir?’
‘We are.’
He took copious notes as the couple explained how they wanted their steaks, then disappeared, genie-like, into the kitchen.
He reappeared seconds later with their champagne in a cooler and poured it for them.
The evening went perfectly. They laughed, held hands, behaved exactly as two people deeply in love should do, apart from the incessant business Leon needed to sort, via his mobile phone.
Leon had a problem; a trusted colleague had vanished, and he suspected another trusted colleague of causing the vanishing act. And the issue had arisen on his wedding anniversary, when he was out with his stunning wife, phone tucked securely into his pocket to stay there for two or three hours.
Katerina believed his explanation that some drugs had disappeared from one of the pharmacies, and it was the police keeping in touch with him. After all, he was an important man in the community, and it was his business.
They left the restaurant just before ten. The shoes were still a problem, and she kicked them off as they entered their front door.
‘Hallelujah!’ she yelled. ‘Remind me never to wear them again. I’ll stick them in the charity shop bag.’
‘Wear your trainers next time.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
He pulled her into his arms. ‘Thank you. It’s been such a lovely evening. Nightcap?’
‘For a non-drinker, I seem to have drunk a lot,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I’ll just have a small amaretto, on ice.’
Leon moved to the drinks cabinet, took out two different bottles, then collected some ice. ‘Lots of ice?’
Katerina nodded. ‘You know me so well.’ She closed her eyes, and let her head fall back on the sofa. She felt fat, full, and happy, a perfect evening.
Leon handed her the drink. ‘Thank you for four wonderful years, my love.’ They clinked glasses and she smiled.
‘Been good, haven’t they?’
‘They have. They’ve been amazing.’
Katerina sipped at her drink, wondering how on earth she was going to manage the stairs. Her wobbly legs were nothing to do with the dodgy gold sandals, they were all to do with champagne, brandy and now amaretto. She hoped Tibby, their ginger tomcat, had already headed off out for the night; she wanted no disasters caused by falling over him as he twined himself around her legs.
Her lounge seemed to be full of flowers – Leon had presented her with two dozen glorious red roses, there had been a huge bunch from her parents, and an equally large bunch from Leon’s parents in Canada. It had been a struggle finding enough containers for them all, and a large drinks jug had had to be utilised, Katerina thought, with pronounced effect.
When the delivery ordered in Canada had arrived, Leon had sat for a few minutes, just reading and stroking the accompanying card. She knew he missed his parents; she had met them for the first time at the wedding, but now, following a stroke, Alan was unable to travel. His face, once so like Leon’s, was now twisted, making speech difficult, and one side of his body was paralysed. Sue never left his side.
Katerina vowed they would go to Canada and see them during the summer – surely Leon could take a couple of weeks off.
Leon sat by her side and swung her legs up onto his knees. He massaged her feet. ‘Better?’
‘Getting there. Can you clear a couple of weeks in August for us to go visit your mum and dad?’
‘I’ll try.’
‘You’ll do it.’
He smiled. Nobody argued with a drunken deacon.
‘Leon, tell me about the phone calls.’
‘What phone calls?’
‘More the texts. You only had one phone call, and that certainly wasn’t from the police, because you told whoever it was to keep it strictly to texts. What’s going on?’
‘I’d spoken to the police earlier. The texts were from my staff who were doing a complete stock check following a police request. It seems there’s more missing than we had at first realised. Empty boxes that look like full ones, so they’re counted as being sixteen tablets. It has to be one of my staff, but I’ve no clue as to who it is. The one who was texting me is a manager from one of the other shops. He’s doing the stock check. I’m so sorry, did it spoil your night?’
She shook her head. ‘No – sorry, I didn’t realise it was this serious.’
‘You want to see my phone?’ He held his breath. Say no. Say no.
She laughed. ‘Of course I don’t. For a start, it’s your business phone, and I wouldn’t understand anything, but I wouldn’t check your phone anyway. I’m not that paranoid, drunk or sober.’
‘There was another issue that cropped up that I really couldn’t deal with. Remember Gill, the assistant in the Eyam shop? She texted to say she won’t be in tomorrow, she’s had a fall and she can’t put any weight on her ankle. I can’t expect Neil to run the place on his own, so I’m going to have to spend ten minutes now trying to get a stand in.’
‘I’ll do it. How hard can it be?’ She giggled. ‘I’ll go in with you in the morning. If there’s any awkward customers, I can ask Neil.’
‘You sure? That would give me tomorrow to sort it out properly.’
‘I’m sure. It’s only for a day, and won’t affect anything at church. What time do we need to get up?’
‘About seven. Sorry.’
She struggled to sit up. ‘I think I’d better go to bed. You coming?’
Leon laughed. ‘You think you can make it up those stairs on your own? I’ll take you up, then come down and make sure everything’s secure.’
He helped her to stand, and she giggled again as she fell against him. ‘I think I was about eighteen last time I felt like this.’
After helping her up to the bedroom, Leon seated her on the stool at the dressing table. He left her to remove any remaining make-up, had a quick two-minute shower in the en-suite, then returned to the bedroom. She scooped up the cleansing wipes and dropped them in the waste bin, before just looking at herself in the mirror. She could see Leon reflected just over her left shoulder, wearing only a white towel and carrying a glass of water. He took her breath away; the water droplets glistening on his dark skin were like diamonds against black velvet.
‘I thought you might need some water in the night,’ he said, and kissed the top of her head.
The ruby around her neck glittered with amazing fire, deep deep red, even though the stone was a pink-red. She raised her right hand to touch it. It felt warm. She unfastened it and laid it on her dressing table. Such a beautiful stone.
She placed the water on her bedside table and snuggled down. ‘I’m fine. It’s probably that I’ve had more to drink than normal but my legs are very wobbly.’ She giggled for a third time.
He kissed her lips. ‘Okay, you sleep. I’m going downstairs for a bit, listen to some music and finish my nightcap. I love you, Kat.’ He kissed her again.
‘Love you too,’ she said, and closed her eyes.
Kat waited until she could hear soft music from downstairs, then crept out of bed and across to the ruby pendant, glistening in its box. She tentatively lifted it out and stroked it, such an amazing gift, then placed it back in the box, before leaving it on her bedside table. It would join the diamond pendant, the diamond bracelet and the emerald earrings, all previous anniversary gifts, in her safe in the morning.
Sleep claimed her quickly, as she listened to the music of Beethoven flowing quietly up the stairs.
Leon nursed the glass of whisky, savouring both the smell and the taste of it. He had enjoyed the evening so much with his woman, the absolute love of his life.
He sipped at the whisky and felt his phone vibrate.
The text from Terry Vincent was simple. Found PH. Says he buried GR in Ecclesall Woods. What do you want me to do?
His response was equally simple. Bury him too. Text when he’s dead.
He continued to sip at his drink, thinking about George Reynolds, the late George Reynolds it seemed. He’d have to do something about George’s wife and kids; perhaps pop in one day to ask her where George was, and leave her some cash when she said she didn’t know.
It was a bit of a relief that Paddy Halloran was about to be exterminated. And he didn’t have a wife he needed to compensate. He’d been a loose cannon for a while, and killing George, one of his more reliable workers, had to be punished. It briefly gave Leon food for thought as he wondered how they had found out from Paddy that he had buried George in the woods…
He wondered where in Ecclesall Woods the two men resided; he hoped it was in one of the denser parts, maybe they wouldn’t be found at all then. He made a mental note to ask Terry Vincent for the location, he wanted no surprises.
His glass was empty, and he considered topping it up again, killing a little more time before going to bed. He wanted Kat to be soundly asleep, getting fully rested. She had a long and unusual day ahead of her, in the shop. The music was soporific, and he knew if he did give her more time, he would be in danger of falling asleep downstairs; he didn’t want that.
Leon carried the glass through to the kitchen and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher. He switched off the music, checked all the doors and windows, set the alarm, and climbed the stairs.
Pausing in the doorway of the bedroom, Leon looked at his sleeping wife. Taking off the white towel and putting it in the laundry bin, he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. He’d loved her from the first time he met her and wanted her by his side for always.
But how long would she stay if she knew what his other life was like? He reckoned just long enough to grab the cat, pick up her fully loaded suitcase and throw her house keys at him, before running to her car.
3
Beth Walters looked at herself in the long mirror. He’d requested that she look good, and she didn’t think he’d be disappointed. She had piled her long curly dark-brown hair on top of her head, adding six inches of extra height to her already impressive sixty-eight inches; her high heels added a further three inches. The yellow silk dress swirled around her knees as she walked, and she knew he would be knocked out.
She smiled into the mirror, practising how she would appear to him the first time he saw her. She hadn’t been out with this one before; she knew him as Anthony Parkson but guessed that wasn’t the truth. Her clients rarely gave genuine names. The agency had vetted him before advising her of the name he wished to use.
Her clients never said the names weren’t real, but she was no dummy. It didn’t take a genius to work it out, and she thought it was quite funny when she called them by the name she had been given, and they didn’t answer because they didn’t realise she was speaking to them.
One more year. She had to get through her final year at Sheffield University and she could pack in what she laughingly termed the escort business
. It wasn’t about escorting someone to an engagement, it was about the sex she occasionally had to perform afterwards.
That was the real earner. She had learned to distance her mind from what was happening to her body, and the agency always paired her with someone of at least equal height, and reasonable good looks. For two years, she had saved most of her earnings, living on the very minimum that she could.
After graduation she intended taking a year out and seeing the world. But that night, it was Anthony Parkson’s turn to use her. Her phone pinged, telling her he had arrived and was waiting outside. She switched off her lamp, called to Jo and Millie, her housemates, and headed out the door, locking it behind her.
He was standing by his car, a long sleek black Jaguar. She felt a small frisson of excitement as she saw how good looking he was. This was, indeed, a bonus.
‘You have the password?’ she asked with a smile, as she walked up to him.
‘Wensleydale.’
She held out her hand. ‘Hi, Anthony. My name is Beth.’
He shook her hand and opened the car door. ‘Let me help you in. It’s a low-slung seat.’
She lowered herself carefully into the car and locked her seatbelt into place.
‘Ready?’
She nodded. ‘We’re going to the Alhambra?’
‘We are. I’m hosting a gathering of clients, potential new ones, and senior staff. They’ll be a fair amount of mingling to do, but you’re there primarily to look good on my arm. And you do,’ he added. ‘Look good, I mean.’
‘Thank you. I received your instructions.’
He grinned. ‘Sorry about that, but it would have been awkward if you’d turned up in denim or something.’
‘I don’t think I’ll let you down. I have to check your receipt from the agency for my fees before we go in, and then we can enjoy the evening.’
‘Of course. If you look in the glove compartment, you’ll see it.’
She leaned forward, took out the piece of paper and quickly scanned it. It seemed an awful lot of money. She received half of it, the agency kept the other half. She quickly took a photograph of it with her phone and put it back in the glove compartment. ‘I photo it so that I can check my monthly fee payment from the agency. They’ve never been wrong, but there’s always a first time, and it will be the time when I forget to take the photograph.’
He nodded. ‘Good business head as well as remarkably beautiful. What do you do in the real world, Beth?’
‘I’m a student.’
Anthony smiled. She obviously didn’t want to give away too much.
They chatted of inconsequential things and fifteen minutes later they pulled up outside the venue; a doorman stepped forward to take the keys and park the Jaguar. She almost envied the man; she wouldn’t have minded driving that car. It put her little red Mini to shame.
They walked up the steps to the entrance which led into a magnificent hall. People were going up and down the glamorous stairway, all dressed immaculately. Beth didn’t feel out of place. She knew she looked good, and she was pleased to take the arm he held out for her. One day, she promised herself, she would meet a man like him for real.
There was a heady smell of perfume in the air, expensive perfume. She excused herself to go to the bathroom before the meal started, and Anthony watched her walk up the stairs, along with at least ten other men all watching her.
His own eyes never left the stairs; smiling as she returned to him.
Shortly after, they went into the huge dining room, and the meal was served. She estimated there were around seventy people there, and it was clear that everyone knew Anthony. There was much laughter, drinking of wine and general good-natured banter, then Anthony rose to make a speech. He promised no business, told everybody they were there to enjoy the evening, and tomorrow was soon enough to get back to the serious undertaking of making money. His speech was received with a round of applause, and he sat down and took her hand.
‘Glad that’s over,’ he whispered. ‘I hate making speeches.’
‘Nobody would have known that.’ She smiled. ‘You did fine, very professional, and it was just long enough.’
They were ushered to a side room after the meal while the room was cleared, and then everyone drifted back into the dining room, where a small jazz band had been hired to play for the evening. Beth loved it; the music was good, the ambience perfect.
He referred to her as my friend
every time he introduced her to someone new, although in a couple of instances she recognised the men she was being acquainted with; they were men who, while screwing her, had explained they used escorts because they had no wife. These men were standing by the side of their wives, looking as if they were wondering where they had seen the beautiful woman before.
It was a good evening. By eleven, many had gone home, leaving a nucleus of about twenty who clearly wanted to party the night away, including Anthony.
Someone suggested they go clubbing, and taxis were ordered. Anthony took it upon himself to advise the receptionist that there would be half a dozen cars in their car park overnight, as they were heading into town. They would be collected when his friends were sober enough to drive.
The taxis arrived, and they were soon at Steel, the nightclub of choice for most of them.
Beth had been several times. It always made her feel uneasy. The drugs were dealt openly, the music certainly wasn’t the wonderful jazz that had captivated her during the earlier part of the evening, and the lighting was so low it made seeing anything almost impossible.
She sat on a bar stool and looked around her. Anthony remained by her side.
He held up a hand and immediately the barman moved across to them. ‘Beth?’
‘I’ll just have a Coke, thanks, Anthony.’
‘One Coke, and I’ll have one of my usual please.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The barman quickly dealt with their order, handing Beth her drink, and sliding what looked like a double malt to Anthony.
‘Will I be taking you home later, or can I look forward to the whole evening together?’
‘As long as you pay me direct and don’t divulge anything to the agency, I can be available until tomorrow morning,’ she said with a smile. ‘And I do expect breakfast.’
He felt a stirring in his groin at her words, and he returned her smile. ‘I can be very discreet. And I’m sure I can produce scrambled eggs.’
He sipped at the malt whisky and casually surveyed the room. The music was loud, bouncing off the walls in time to the strobe lighting whirling around the entire room. Bodies were packed like sardines on the small dance area. It was dark, difficult to see faces, and the rapid flickering movements of the strobe effect made it even harder. He didn’t want to be there.
‘Shall we go?’
‘You can’t,’ Beth answered. ‘You’re here with your friends and business colleagues. You can’t really abandon them.’
‘They’ll not even notice.’ He grinned at her, an infectious smile.
She picked up her bag. ‘Come on then. I’ll go out first, you follow in a minute, and they won’t think we’re going.’
He nodded. ‘You want a job as my secretary?’
‘No, thanks.’ She laughed. ‘You couldn’t afford me.’
Beth went out through the door they had entered just a few minutes earlier and waited on the steps until Anthony joined her. The bouncer stood to attention as he realised who she was waiting for, and he stepped to the pavement edge to get them a taxi, after speaking into a walkie-talkie.
A cab pulled up within seconds and Anthony held the door, helping her climb inside. She was glad it was a black cab; with her heels it wouldn’t have been easy getting out of a car.
Beth leaned across towards Anthony, trying to get a look at the driver. As she had bent her head to climb into the back, she thought she had recognised him, but no amount of peering through the dividing window helped her remember why she thought she knew him.
She settled back, and Anthony took her hand.
‘You’ve been amazing tonight,’ he said, and raised her hand to his lips.
‘Thank you. I enjoy functions like this evening’s party. I’ve never seen so many designer dresses in one room. And I need to tell you that jazz combo was perfect for the occasion.’
‘Thank you. I’ve known them years, usually book them because my friends expect them now, and would be annoyed if they didn’t play. I have to tell you, none of the other women could hold a candle to you. You looked wonderful. Yellow suits you, and I was proud to have you by my side. In future, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to book you direct for any business requirements I may have. I am quite happy to pay the agency rates, but you might as well have all of it instead of half.’
She smiled, not really sure how to respond. Nobody had suggested this to her before. ‘Thank you,’ was all she could manage to say.
Anthony pulled her a little closer, and she leaned against him.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I live in a village called Eyam. Do you know it?’
‘I know of it, of course, our local famous plague village; the villagers do a well-dressing annually. My nan and I do a drive round of all the wells every year, and the residents are always keen to explain how it’s done, and how much they love doing it.’
‘Indeed they do. The church takes a very active interest in everything that goes on, and the well-dressing is a massive part of the church year.’
‘Do you go to church?’ Beth was curious to know more about this man.
He laughed. ‘No, I don’t. It’s not that I don’t believe, it’s more that I don’t believe enough.’
She smiled. Exactly her feelings on the matter.
‘Your nan? Do you live with her?’
‘I don’t, no. I couldn’t do this job and live with her; she wouldn’t understand. When I started at uni I bought a small house with the money my parents left me. They both died within a year of each other, so I sold their house and moved in with my nan. I was only sixteen. The money was put into trust until I was eighteen, and so I invested it in my little house as soon as I found out I’d got in at uni. I live with a couple of other girls, and it works okay. I see Nan every weekend, couldn’t manage without her. She feeds me.’ Beth laughed. ‘And I always have cakes and scones to take back with me, so she feeds my housemates as well. She’s wonderful, I love her to bits. The well-dressing trip has been something we’ve always done. She used to take me until I passed my driving test, now I take her.’
Beth watched the streetlights flashing by, and then darkness as they went on Derbyshire roads that were, in the main, unlit. Talking about her nan had reinforced how much she loved her, and Beth vowed to go and see her within the next couple of days.
‘We go through the village,’ Anthony said, pointing at the sign that proclaimed Eyam, ‘and my place is as you leave at the far end of the main road. Another five minutes, and we’ll be there.’
There was a sudden lurch, followed by a bang as the tyre hit the kerb, and Beth started to slide off the leather seat. Anthony tried to hold on to her, but he too was sliding, and they ultimately ended up on the floor, a tangled heap of arms and legs.
The taxi completed the ninety-degree left turn, travelled at speed down a side road before taking another left turn and careering down an alleyway. It stopped with a screech of brakes, and Anthony, who was almost back onto his seat, shot forward once more and landed on Beth.
‘What the fuck?’ he yelled and watched as the window slid open a couple of inches. The driver pointed a gun at him.
‘Get out, Jackson. You too, slag,’ he said, and waved the gun at Beth.
Anthony climbed out, then helped Beth to get out. There was a trace of blood on her face; having been injured as she fell. He pulled her close to him and she hid her face in his shoulder.
The taxi driver had joined them, standing six feet behind them. He waved the gun in the direction of the dead end of the alleyway. There were a couple of large waste bins, some pallets and black bags full of rubbish, and Anthony and Beth walked towards them.
‘My real name’s Anthony Jackson,’ he whispered to her.
She clung on to him and nodded. ‘Beth Walters.’
He squeezed her hand. She looked so scared and he could do nothing to comfort her. She looked as frightened as he felt.
‘You, slag,’ the driver said. ‘Walk down to the end.’
Fear was written all over her face. She turned to Anthony, but he knew he couldn’t do anything with a gun trained on them. ‘Do as he says, and trust me,’ he said. He needed to get a dialogue going with the guy, find out what the fuck he wanted, and why he’d done this.
He watched Beth stagger as she stumbled against something, and then turn around as she reached the end. She could go no further.
She saw the driver raise the gun, wait for a moment as if deciding whether to go for it or not, and then she saw Anthony’s head explode. She screamed and tried to run back towards him, but the gun turned in her direction. Beth knew she was so close to death, and she dropped to her knees, her legs unable to support her. ‘Please… no,’ she heard herself shriek, her throat tightening with fear.
Once more the gunman hesitated and then he seemed to shake his head before pulling the trigger.
The bullet hit her in the shoulder and she went down. Her yellow silk dress on the black bags of rubbish caused her to slide, but finally she stopped. The driver walked towards her and she stayed unmoving, sprawled on her back amidst the rubbish, her eyes tightly closed, her dress almost up to her breasts. If this was the end, she didn’t want to see it coming.
She heard his footsteps getting nearer and terror enveloped her. He kicked her head, and still she made no sound. He lifted the gun by the barrel and brought it down on her forehead.
Blackness.
4
‘I t’s time to get up.’
‘No.’ Katerina pulled a pillow over her head.
‘Yes.’ Leon removed the pillow, and she tried unsuccessfully to hold on to it.
‘This is grounds for divorce,’ she said to him, looking at him through the only eye she would allow to open. The other one was still asleep.
Leon pulled the duvet from her.
‘What time is it anyway?’
‘Seven.’
‘The morning seven? Why would you do that to me?’
‘You’re going into the pharmacy with me. Have you forgotten our little chat from last night? You’re a wimp, Katerina Rowe. Neil will be there from about eight, he’s doing a stock check of sorts, making sure nothing went missing since yesterday, so he can take you through one or two things before we open at nine.’
‘I’ll drive down later.’
‘No, you’ll go with me. You’ll not bother if I leave you to do it on your own. Come on, wench, get up.’ He rolled her onto her side and smacked her bum.
‘You’re a brute.’ She swung her feet towards the floor, leaving her head still in bed.
‘All of you,’ he said with a smile. He was used to her non-compliance with morning discussions. He was lucky she was speaking anything out loud. It took at least two coffees to motivate his beautiful woman.
One coffee already imbibed, and one in her hand, she settled into the passenger seat, still feeling grumpy.
‘What on earth made you think I would want to get up at this ungodly hour? Do you know how much I had to drink last night?’
Leon smiled. She’d get over it, given time. About three weeks, he reckoned. He drove slowly down into the village, through the centre until he reached the shop.
‘Neil hasn’t arrived yet,’ he said. ‘His car’s not here, but he won’t be long.’
‘He’s probably still in bed,’ was the sarcastic retort he received.
He parked outside the shop and helped Kat from the car.
‘Come on, Grumpy. We’ll walk round to the back door. If I raise the shutters and put a key anywhere near the front door, people will think we’re open.’
Kat followed Leon around to the alleyway. At first she thought it was a bundle of rags. Then she felt Leon grab her arm and push her behind him.
‘Don’t take another step,’ he said. ‘There’s blood…’
‘Oh my Lord, it’s a body.’ She felt goosebumps move up her arms. ‘We need to check if…’
‘He’s dead, Kat. He has very little left of his head.’
And then she saw the yellow dress. She dodged past Leon who was just taking out his phone and she ran towards the woman.
Leon shouted to her to stop, but she ignored him. This one still had a head. A very bloody head, but it was still on her shoulders and not splattered all over the floor.
The woman was lying on the black bags, her skirt still hiked up. Katerina reached towards her. ‘Lord, help her, let her be alive,’ she breathed, and placed a finger on the girl’s neck.
There was a pulse; faint but a slight flicker still there.
‘She’s alive,’ Katerina screamed to Leon. ‘Get an ambulance!’
Leon hesitated, panicking slightly in case it had some connection to him. He couldn’t tell who the man was, and he couldn’t see the woman because his wife was in the way.
‘Leon,’ Katerina yelled again. ‘Ambulance!’
999.
He quickly explained the circumstances, then passed the phone to Kat, who listened to what the operator was telling her to do. She carefully pulled the woman down from the piles of rubbish until she was lying flat, then got Leon to help turn her on her side. The beautiful silk dress was covered in blood, and the woman was clearly unconscious; she made no sounds. The operator continued to instruct Kat, reassuring her that the ambulance was on its way. Leon went to the beginning of the alleyway to meet it.
He guided it as it reversed down the narrow cul-de-sac, stopping it as it reached the body of the man.
They very quickly confirmed the man was dead, and assessed the woman as needing urgent treatment.
Within ten minutes of their arrival, she had been taken to a waiting air-ambulance, the pilot unable to land in the tiny village; they transferred her by taking her to the helicopter.
As a result her life was saved.
Kat’s day in the shop was cancelled; the pharmacy had become a crime scene. Neil, Leon’s pharmacist, had offered to stay at the shop although it was closed, in case the police needed anything, and Leon drove Kat back home. By then, she had definitely woken up.
The ambulance crew had told Kat the woman would be taken to the Northern General Hospital in Sheffield, so after Leon had returned her to their home she rang the hospital, explained her connection to the woman who she still had no name for, and asked if she had survived.
They wouldn’t tell her anything.
Katerina couldn’t get the woman’s face out of her mind; she was beautiful, her dark hair turned an ugly shade of red.
Katerina saw the police car pull up outside and went to meet the two officers. After checking their credentials, she showed them through to the kitchen. Kat made drinks while they got out the paperwork necessary for her statement, and then she answered their questions.
The primary one was: did she know either of the victims.
‘The man didn’t have much of a head left,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you know who he is?’
‘We do. We’ve identified him by his fingerprints. He’s a business man by the name of Anthony Jackson. Have you heard of him?’ PC Hannah Granger kept her eyes firmly fixed on Kat’s face.
She searched through her memory and came up with nothing. ‘I don’t think so. What sort of business?’
‘Pharmaceuticals.’
‘Oh.’
‘You know him?’ PC Dave Irwin joined in the conversation.
‘I don’t even know of him, let alone know him. My husband is in the pharmaceutical industry; it just seemed strange that this poor dead man is in it too. Or was in it.’
‘Is your husband here?’
‘He’s on his way.’ As she spoke she heard the front door open. ‘Leon? Is that you? We’re in the kitchen.’
Leon walked through the house and bent to kiss his wife before acknowledging the police presence.
He switched on the kettle. ‘Are you all okay for a drink?’
They held up their mugs, indicating they had drinks, but they suspended questions until he was also sitting at the table.
‘Leon, that poor man was called Anthony Jackson. Did you know him?’ Kat asked.
As curveballs go, it was a good one. Leon swallowed, thought about lying, then decided against it. ‘Of Jackson Pharmaceuticals?’
‘Yes, sir. Did you recognise him at the time?’
‘He didn’t have a face,’ Leon said, unable to hide the sarcasm.
‘No, of course he didn’t. I do apologise. Did you know the lady?’
‘I don’t think so. Does she have a name?’
‘According to her driving licence, she’s called Bethan Walters.’
‘And has she survived?’ Kat interrupted, trying to stop an obvious shiver. ‘I’d like to go and see her if that’s okay.’
Hannah Granger went to answer. ‘I don’t think–’
‘In my official capacity, of course,’ Kat said firmly.
‘Official capacity?’
‘I’m Deacon at St Lawrence’s, here in Eyam. I found her, she was in my parish, and I’d like to go and visit her.’
‘We’ll see that you are able to do that, Mrs… Ms… Rowe.’
‘Reverend.’ Kat smiled sweetly. ‘It’s Reverend Katerina Rowe when I’m on official business.’
Hannah made a note in her book. ‘As soon as I find out where she is, I’ll ring you. I know she was taken to the Northern General, but it depends on her injuries where she is now.’
Kat nodded. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll make sure I wear my clerical collar when I visit her, so that it’s clear who I am, to your officers.’
Kat sat out in the garden and let her mind roam. They lived in a particularly quiet part of the village; no traffic noise, no close neighbours, and no sounds of children’s voices raised as they played.
She knew beyond any doubt that she had to see Bethan Walters. She didn’t know her, but she felt she was meant to have some sort of connection with her.
She smiled, inwardly laughing at herself. She had no beliefs when it came to anything a bit odd, she generally put everything down to coincidence. Maybe there would be answers if she talked to Ms Walters.
Kat lifted the arms on the sun lounger and let it go to a more comfortable position. The little stream that ran along the bottom of the garden was soporific, and she could feel her eyes closing.
She slept.
Leon watched her from the bedroom window, musing on just how lucky he had been to find her, at exactly the right point in his life. He had met her on a Tuesday, and by Thursday had been in love.
His life had revolved even then around drugs, money laundering, control of his men. And his women. He knew he would lose Kat if she ever discovered even the slightest thing about his illegal activities; he had told her he had a string of pharmacies, his legitimate life, but nothing of his imperfect world. And now something felt threatening.
He hadn’t known Anthony Jackson well; there had been talk of him stepping up a league, but their paths rarely crossed. As if by mutual consent, they knew their own boundaries, although there had been a couple of incursions by Jackson onto Rowe territory, a couple of conversations in which development plans had been mentioned.
So why had Jackson died in the back alley leading to the rear of a Rowe Pharmacy? What had brought him there? Maybe the question should be who had brought him there? Leon had given no instructions, so it was somebody outside of his own circle of colleagues.
He and Kat had both made their statements, she denying any knowledge of either of the victims, he admitting to knowing Jackson, but only because he was in the same line of business. The police seemed to have been happy with that, but if Kat persisted in this ridiculous notion of checking on the woman, would she open some can of worms he didn’t want opening?
He showered, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, then went downstairs to join his wife. She was awake.
‘Isn’t it lovely,’ she said. ‘The sound of that water, just perfect.’
‘It’s beautiful. Are you going out tonight, or do I get you all to myself?’
She laughed. ‘Young Wives group, but I’ll be back for half past eight. Then I’m all yours.’
‘Good. It’s been a rotten day. And how are you? Fully sober now?’
‘I’m fine. A murder tends to do that, wipes out the alcohol.’
‘I have a meeting tomorrow in London.’ He broached the subject with caution. ‘Would you like to go with me?’
‘I can’t. I have a meeting tomorrow as well. Nothing as glamorous as London, mine’s in Nottingham. Are you staying overnight?’
‘I think so. If it finishes early I’ll head home, but if it’s late I’ll stay. I’ll let you know when I ring you.’
She nodded. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ve to be in Nottingham for about half past nine, ready for a ten o’clock meeting, but hopefully it will all be over for midday. Ring any time after that.’
He kissed her. ‘Okay. Now, are we eating before you go to Young Wives, or after?’
‘I’m not hungry. Seeing Mr Jackson…’
‘I know. I don’t know what to say to help you. It was bad.’
‘I’ll maybe have a sandwich when I come back in.’
‘Then I’ll wait for you, do something for us. Then bed.’
‘Oh, yes please.’ She smiled.
‘Hussy,’ he responded. ‘I meant we’ve both got an early start tomorrow, so needed an early bedtime. Mind you, your idea was better than mine…’
‘Kiss me.’ She held out her arms.
He willingly obliged.
Kat left home an hour later than her husband. She rang the hospital first to see how Bethan Walters was, and this time got a grudging, ‘She had a comfortable night.’ She wondered if Beth herself would have echoed that.
Driving to Nottingham gave her time to reflect on the happenings of the previous day and she wondered what on earth had been so bad that one person had died, and the other one was critically injured.
She switched off the windscreen wipers as the rain seemed to have stopped, although she hoped her action wasn’t temporary. Sunshine had been promised, and she was damned if she was going to settle for a murky grey day.
By the time she reached the hotel where the meeting was to take place, the sun had come out, and she was deeply regretting not bringing her sunglasses.
Throughout the entirety of the meeting, she struggled to follow what the speakers were saying. Sometimes her own small church seemed far distant from the bigger churches and cathedrals in the area, and she found many discussions to be irrelevant. Half way in, she decided she wasn’t going straight home, she was going to the Northern General. She would brave the intricacies of Sheffield city centre, its ring road, and multiple incomprehensible roundabouts, and go find Bethan Walters.
The journey was as bad as she had feared, and when she finally reached the hospital, she had to drive around for half an hour trying to find a parking spot. By the time she reached the critical care ward, she was ready to deck anyone who said one word wrong to her.
There was a young officer sitting on a chair outside the room. He stood as she approached. ‘Can I have your name please?’
‘Reverend Katerina Rowe.’ She touched her