“No, we were still legally married when he died, yes I’m his widow, not that tart who got her claws into him. But I don’t like the idea of disturbing his grave. Do you really think he could be alive? No he can’t be, I saw his body.”
“Only tests such as dental records would prove this one way or another. I don’t want to cause you distress Angela. Why don’t you think about it? You can always contact me if you wanted to do this for peace of mind.”
She waved them goodbye and Martha said, “The earring?”
“Well, it bothers me Martha, we can’t see it on the still, and she says it wasn’t on the body, but Derek Wallace swears the attacker wore an earring.”
“Yeah, I was just asking, that’s bothered me as well.”
*
Olivia seemed to have been successful in persuading Tom to spend at least a few days in London, or to put it another way, get out of her face. She looked around the empty house and contemplated when all this doom and gloom was going to end. The doorbell rang. A cheerful courier driver asked her to sign for a small parcel. She shuddered at the prospect of another blow to her prayers that her son would be found unharmed. She debated whether opening it was the right thing to do, or if she should hand it straight to the police. She couldn’t resist this time. Unlike the package addressed to her in the hospital, this was to her address. It was also worryingly lightweight. She closed her eyes and recklessly tore the damned thing open. Sinking to her knees, she welled up and shrieked loudly, with mixed emotions of relief and horror.
There was nothing in the parcel but padding and a photograph. The good news was that the date and time of the snap appeared in the corner, it was taken the previous day. The harrowing aspect was Kieron’s dress, and his facial expression of joy. He wasn’t capable of faking it. She thought he was actually radiating pleasure. Could he have forgotten her? There was no legend or message amongst the contents. She rushed out of the house and went in search of Prentice.
Chapter 25
Jones was trying to ferret out information which could narrow down the number of people who could have the knowledge and access to the internal mail system for the hospital, whether they were staff or outside service personnel. When he heard from Prentice that Angela Mitchell may consider giving permission for an exhumation he felt his rigid approach to the use of evidence might yet be vindicated. “Can you get back to the station Jonesy? Olivia has had another parcel, this one was delivered to her house. It’s a photo of Kieron, taken yesterday. The obvious reaction is to jump to the conclusion that it has to be from the same person, the stun gun delivery man. Forensics will tell us that, but we checked with the courier company, and it was picked up from the London office. It’s a new slant, and there’s nothing else in the parcel, still no demand.”
“I’ll be right there boss.” As he got into his car, he allowed his mind to accept the sender was likely to be the same one, and whether it might actually help in finding the hospital parcel delivery man. That, if it could be established, would shake the tree quite vigorously. Perhaps even dislodge an entire branch. He speeded up and used his blue flashing light.
*
They were on their way back to Newcastle and Kieron surprisingly asked about his mother. “Can Mummy see Mickey?”
“That could be difficult, as you know, she’s always at work. I thought you told me that Mummy and Daddy didn’t like the idea of you having a puppy.”
“Yes. Not in the house.”
“Well, we can’t take a dog into the hospital Kieron. So, how will we do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if you send her a photo of Mickey, and ask her if she wants to meet you and him somewhere. You know, not the house and not the hospital. Would you like that?”
“Yes, groovy, ha-ha. I want a drink.”
“Ok, we can stop in a few minutes. Put on your funny hat and sunshades, we don’t want anybody to know who we are. I’ll put on my stupid wig.”
*
A breathless Jones entered the office, joining his boss and Olivia. He was given the chance to look at the photograph of Kieron outside the Tower. “And there was nothing else in the parcel, I understand?”
“That’s right,” said Olivia, “just crumpled padding.”
“Do you still have this padding?”
“No, well yes, I mean I put it in the trash can, so it should still be at the house. Why?”
“It may have prints or other stuff. I wouldn’t send something in a box if an envelope would do the job, unless there was a good reason. I think we should bring it to forensics, in an evidence pouch.”
“He’s right Olivia,” added Prentice, “now then, I’ll get our London people on to the courier depot to see if anyone can remember the person who dropped this off or if they have their signature. In the meantime, we have to consider what the photo is intended to achieve. Kieron looks ‘as happy as Larry’ and obviously hasn’t been harmed physically. I don’t know exactly how to say this. He may have been subject to other kinds of unpleasantness, and I’m only saying it because we can’t rule it out.”
“Oh God. No, I don’t even want to think about that.”
Jones chimed in again. “We need that padding Olivia, like pronto. Can you go with Martha and let her bag it. We’ll do the rest.”
“Yes, of course, where is she?”
“One thing before Martha comes in Olivia,” said Prentice, wanting Jones to observe the body language, being the only person other than Cartwright to know of the illegal DNA test, “I wanted to ask if you had spoken to your mother again about Gladstone. I can imagine you don’t want to talk about it, but we have to find a connection to this parcel man, and it could be someone close at hand. It’s Gladstone that needs to be eliminated, and that this filial surprise is nothing more than that, a surprise.”
“She’s pushing all of my questions away, but I know my Mum very well, we’ve always been close. And I’ve done some homework. I’d never had reason to do the maths before, but Peter was away on tour with the Royal Navy for thirteen months during which I was conceived and born. He can’t be my father, and Mum’s a poor liar. I intend to confront Gladstone when I get the chance, did you hear that his house burned down?”
Prentice and Jones looked at one another as if they’d missed the boat. Martha arrived and said she’d drive Olivia to Hamsterley Mill.
*
Out of the blue, Prentice had an important visitor. He invited Angela Mitchell to sit and beckoned Jones. He asked what he could do for her. “I’ve thought about what you said, and I have a question.”
“Is it about exhumation? If that is the case, I can perfectly understand…”
“It is, but indirectly. When you mentioned that other people had said that picture was indeed Edward, I didn’t think about it then, but now I realise that they might not have known he was already dead when it was taken. I think it was that, and me having touched him in his coffin which confused me. It seemed like one of these tricks magicians perform. You know it’s a trick, but your eyes tell you it can’t be. I tried several times to convince Edward he should move on, long before he killed himself, and now it’s me that needs closure. I want everybody to know he wasn’t involved in any wrongdoing, his name shouldn’t be blemished posthumously. Then I began to reflect on our little boy again, and Edward’s dedication to get justice for him. I pleaded with him to withdraw the case to prove malpractice, and now he’s being investigated after he took his own life, I realise it wasn’t justice solely for James, but to prevent anything like that happening again. I want to clear my conscience, you have my agreement for the exhumation.”
“Thank you Mrs Mitchell. I’ll resurrect the request and get back to you. Thank you again.”
When they were alone, Jones said, “I want to look into Mitchell’s suicide.”
“Hold on Jonesy, I don’t want to screw up this gift horse, and it was your insistence that we should dig up Mitchell. Wait until we have approval for that before you rock
the boat. By the way, you never said what you thought about Olivia’s admission that Gladstone was stiffing her mother while Peter was doing the hornpipe. I think we were both blown off course by hearing that Count Dracula’s house went up in smoke, and was possibly even torched.”
“Mmm, I think she had anticipated your question about her mother, and prepared her answer for whenever you did ask. Who knows? I still believe that until we have a valid connection, the black secret of her parentage is nothing more than a distraction. The same may be true of Gladstone’s house going up in flames, however I do wonder if the contents of his computer, and any files which weren’t at the hospital would have been a fascinating read.”
“Yeah, I think we should speak to him, you can ask him to come to the station to help us. We haven’t given him a chance to deny the alleged cover up of the James Mitchell blunder. I don’t mean right now, let’s give him a bit more rope.”
*
Tom had taken the train, he’d suddenly realised that without Olivia’s financial support he’d have to be more frugal, especially as he had promised Michael that he would pay for the funeral. True to character, he began to wonder if he had burned his bridges too soon. A text came through from his wife. ‘Just to keep you in the loop. I received a parcel which contained a photograph of Kieron, dated yesterday. He looks happy, no demand. The police have it now. Call me when you can. They now think there might be a reason as to why there hasn’t been any ransom demand. I’m really worried.’
His mind raced over and over about any possible new reason the police could have with respect to the lack of any demand for the return of Kieron. Then it hit him like a thunderbolt. He didn’t call Olivia, he went straight back to the station and headed north again. He was raging inside, unable to think of anyone who would groom his son, or for that matter, how it could have happened.
Chapter 26
Back in his technology room, Kieron was giggling again, Mickey was jumping on and off the bed whenever he pointed to it. The nice man was shouting at someone. The boy was disturbed by this and lifted Mickey on to his knee, hugging him tightly. He heard footsteps approaching his room, more than one person. He looked up at the tiny window, there was no escape. He cowered in the corner below the window, whispering into Mickey’s ear. The door opened and it wasn’t the nice man. Kieron couldn’t make sense of this. He’d been promised that the nasty man wouldn’t come back. Suddenly the nice man appeared behind the nasty man. But why was the nasty man wearing a skirt? They were still shouting at each other, and Kieron began to cry, his chest heaving with fear.
“What the hell were you thinking George? A puppy, a stupid puppy. We have to get rid of it.”
“No way, he likes the dog, we have to keep on plan, he needs to feel safe, and they have to know he’s happy and well. Just tell me if he fell for it, the puppy isn’t up for discussion anymore.”
“We’re either doing this together or not at all, going off half-cocked isn’t in the plan.”
“Ok, sorry. But let’s just forget the puppy for now. How did he react?”
“I’m not sure, not too bad I suppose, I don’t think we’ll have long to wait.”
Everything became calm once more, as the voices trailed back up the stairs. Kieron kept his eyes on the window and caught sight of the skirt passing by. The nice man came back with some jelly babies. “I’m sorry Kieron, I tried not to let the nasty man come down here. It won’t happen again. Should we let Mickey have a jelly baby?”
“Mickey is scared.”
“Well in that case we should give him two jelly babies.”
The cheeky smile returned and Kieron jumped down from the bed to choose which colour sweets he wanted for Mickey.
*
Olivia spotted the padding amongst the refuse. Using gloves, Martha lifted it carefully on to the kitchen bench. It appeared to be nothing more than crumpled heavyweight paper, about five times the thickness of writing paper. She unfurled it delicately and it was blank, until she turned it over. In bold capitals the message read – ‘KIERON SENDS HIS LOVE TO MUMMY. HE FEELS LET DOWN BY HIS FATHER.’
The two women stared at the neat legend and then one another. They were baffled by the second sentence. Why would the boy be upset with his dad? Was this just a lie, part of the sender’s sick game? Martha shrugged her shoulders, but Olivia couldn’t help linking this to the last thing DCI Prentice said to her, an inference that there could be an alternative reason for the absence of any demand from the abductor. Martha suggested that they get the padding to forensics immediately. Although she was plainly deeply troubled, Olivia agreed.
*
Prentice entered the throne room for the second time in a matter of days. Previously, he’d not been there twice in two years. “Please hear me out sir. Since I asked for the exhumation of Edward Mitchell, things have moved on. We now have seven individuals who’ve identified the man in this still as Mitchell. One of these was the man who described the assailant of Peter Radford, and subsequently picked out Mitchell from a gallery of men with roughly similar appearance. Another one of the seven is the wife or widow of Mitchell, and she wants to clear his name of any involvement in the attack on Radford. She has requested that this be settled once and for all. There was no coercion of any kind. She is waiting outside, if you’d like to speak with her.”
“I still don’t like it Prentice, but bring her in, let me speak to her alone.”
Prentice sat in the ‘antechamber’ for more than thirty minutes while Angela was given the full ramifications which could result from disturbing her ex-husband’s grave, whichever way the ‘cookie’ crumbled. She hesitated, mulling this over for the umpteenth time. “If I don’t do this I’ll always wonder. That’s not fair to Edward. Thank you for bringing all of the potential repercussions to my attention, some of them I hadn’t even been aware of, nevertheless I’d like to get this horrible business out of my mind. Can we proceed please?”
“I’ll make the call, and then DCI Prentice will inform you of what happens next.”
She was unsteady on her feet as she left the inner sanctum and Prentice feared that his boss had talked her out of it. “Everything considered, Mrs Mitchell, I do believe you’re doing the right thing. We’ll speak again soon. I need to have a quick word with his lordship then we can go.”
They discussed the timescale while Angela paced the floor of the antechamber. Prentice appeared again and merely said, “Let’s get you home. Thanks for your patience.”
*
When he got back to the station Prentice was immediately informed that Jones was speaking to Ian Gladstone in his office. He grabbed a quick coffee and joined them. As might be expected Gladstone was first to speak. “I’ve just made it clear to DI Jones that this isn’t exactly the most convenient time for me to exchange pleasantries with you people, especially as the fire service believe my house was the target of an arsonist. Presumably a different branch of the police have been charged with investigating this possibility, but so far seem to be running around in circles. I’m without a roof over my head and I need the insurance company to get off their posterior and decide what to do. They of course are blaming your cousins for indecisiveness, and so are the fire service. If this hadn’t been the situation I’d have declined to this chinwag. Are you able to influence this lock-jam?”
Prentice looked at Jones, trying to read what might have been said already and was relieved to hear that Jones had advised waiting until he arrived.
“If there is no doubt that arson can be proven then we may actually be called into your situation. I suppose it would depend on whether there was a credible motive for someone starting the fire, and one which connects to this business at the hospital. If it did we would certainly get on to it. Anyway, first things first, if you remember we weren’t sure whether or not you had ever told Olivia of her true parentage. You suggested that we ask her. So we did, and she was quite shocked, disbelieving that it could be true at first, but being a medical person, she accepted
that we had DNA to prove it. Now, I’d like you to answer this truthfully please, have you talked with her about it since I made you aware of our evidence?”
“No, certainly not. I’ve been expecting her to challenge me about it since you first hit me with it, and I think she will, but not so far. Why on earth would I want to lay this bare after I’ve spent a lifetime suppressing it? I took a back seat on someone else’s behalf. It hasn’t been easy. I could never have imagined she would end up being a surgeon. Oh, I see where we’re going with this. She earned her first chance at our hospital on her own. I wasn’t involved in the selection process, in fact at the time, I didn’t want her to get the job. I could see problems ahead but they didn’t materialise, until now. I take some comfort that you’ve told me that she knows, because she immediately offered me a bed after the fire, but her chameleon of a husband wouldn’t let me in, ergo I’m a hotel dweller.”
“What about your succession?”
“Ah, that. For precisely the same reason that I didn’t interfere with her appointment, I won’t have more than one vote on that. I’m supposed to make some recommendation on whether we need to recruit externally as well as assessing internal candidates. I have recommended that we do. This doesn’t mean that she won’t get the post, but if she does, it’ll be because she beat the best out there. It won’t be because of a biological bias.”
Prentice had primed Jones to bring up his meeting with the anaesthetist, Philip Morrison, after hitting him with the Pauline Radford situation.
“Thank you for being so candid. I should reciprocate, we believe that Olivia was conceived and born during Peter Radford’s absence, she is convinced that Pauline is her biological mother. As police we have to look at motive as one strand of an investigation. Did Peter know of this arrangement?”
“It really is none of your business but I suspect you will find out anyway. Yes, Peter Radford knows, and did from the birth. He accepted that it was a mistake on the part of his wife, and he also realised that I was ambitious, in fact not ready for family life. He insisted that he would adopt her and that’s what happened. Actually, as unlikely as it may seem, we have become friends, not really close, but friends nonetheless.”