Nobody ever made fun of a murder victim. They were always respected, no matter who they were, but, from time to time, the lightness had to break through the darkness.
‘Rory, give Ellen a call. I want you to find out if Craig has been at the house all day today. If so, has he made any phone calls or has anyone been round to visit?’
‘You think he may have done this?’
‘I don’t know. It seems strange that a girl is killed and then the brother of her teacher, who happens to be a child rapist, is found dead within twenty-four hours. Also, bring Sebastian Page back in for questioning too.’
‘Tonight?’
‘No. First thing in the morning. I’ve had my head bitten off about overtime spending lately. If the Chief Constable only wants to pay us for office hours, he can only expect us to work office hours too.’ She began peeling off the forensic suit. ‘Go home, Rory. Have an early night.’
‘I was planning on seeing Natasha, actually.’
Matilda turned back and saw the smirk on his face. ‘Oh. Well, I’m sure you’ll still be having an early night.’
Once behind the wheel of her Range Rover, Matilda took her phone out of her pocket. She had two missed calls from her mother, a missed call and a voicemail from Pat, a text from her sister and two texts from Daniel. She paused, not knowing who to respond to first. Her mother could definitely wait until last.
She decided she didn’t want to see Daniel tonight. She liked Daniel a great deal and wanted him in her life, yet she didn’t want a second husband. She didn’t want a replacement for James. She enjoyed being by herself. Yes, she did get lonely occasionally, but didn’t everyone? Matilda decided that she and Daniel needed to have a succinct chat about where they were going. She wanted to be more than friends but didn’t want him moving in or leaving a toothbrush in her bathroom. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in the mood for such a conversation tonight and ran off a quick text telling him a body had been found and she’d be at the crime scene until the small hours. A little white lie was harmless.
***
Ellen Devonport couldn’t wait to leave the Armitage house. She’d received a long text from Christian bringing her up to speed on the finding of Calvin Page’s body and the possibility of Craig Armitage sexually abusing his youngest daughter. She knew she should question the family more, but she had stayed well past her time and wanted to go home, sink into a hot, deep bath with a bottle of wine and fall asleep watching Fleabag on iPlayer.
The problem, and the cause of her headache, was that her feelings towards the family were conflicted. She admired Craig and Linda for everything they did for their kids, especially Craig. He worked all hours every day for his kids, to give them the best they could afford. They had been dealt a rotten hand with Riley’s illness, now Keeley’s murder, and facing questions about sexual abuse had the potential to destroy the family completely. However, she couldn’t hide away from the fact that the majority of children murdered were killed by a parent or family member. She really wanted Craig to be innocent.
As she was leaving, she gave Craig a hug which had lasted longer than she intended. When she stepped back, she noticed Jodie was watching them from the kitchen. She said her goodbyes and quickly left, telling them to call her anytime. She was on call twenty-four hours but hoped she wouldn’t be needed. She felt physically drained after spending a whole day in that house among the grief and despair.
Outside the house, bunches of flowers had been arriving all day. By now, most of the front garden was awash with colour. Ellen glanced at them; the waft of various scents tickled her nostrils. The local florists would be having a bumper month.
She pulled the collar up on her coat and put her head down. She tried not to make eye contact with any of the journalists parked up on the pavement.
After the storm last night, there was a distinct coolness to the air. A stiff breeze was blowing, and the sky was darkening with a swirl of angry clouds over Sheffield. She lifted the collar on her thin jacket and headed for her car.
‘Excuse me? Hello? Can I have a word?’
Ellen looked up and saw a woman trotting towards her. She was in her late fifties and wearing black trousers, a white jumper and a cream coloured cardigan which she held in place with her arms firmly crossed over her chest.
‘Are you with the police?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you.’
‘Of course.’
‘The thing is,’ she said, looking around her. ‘I want to do this anonymously. It’s been weighing on my mind for a long time, and, well, since Keeley went missing, I suppose it’s brought it back.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t—’
‘No. I’m waffling, aren’t I?’ the woman interrupted. She was shorter than Ellen. Her dull blue eyes were starry and flittered from side to side. ‘It’s just … I really don’t know how to say this.’
‘If you think you have information about this case, or any case, you have a duty to report it, no matter how difficult it may seem.’
‘I’m aware of all that. Oh God, this is hard,’ she licked her lips and swallowed hard a few times. ‘If I tell you something, will you promise that my name won’t come up?’
‘Well, as you haven’t told me your name, it won’t be able to come up.’ Ellen smiled. She looked over the woman’s shoulder and saw the front door of a house three doors down from the Armitage family was open. It wouldn’t be difficult to find out her name.
‘That’s true. Good. Well, I think you need to be looking closer at the family. I’ve read the story in the local paper tonight about how loving and caring they are. The thing is, people are always made out to be saints when they’re involved in a tragedy, aren’t they? The Armitages, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.’
‘In what way?’
‘Look into Riley’s illness. Find out how he came to be brain damaged.’
‘We know about his seizures.’
‘But what caused his seizures?’
‘He has epilepsy.’
‘Does he?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘You can get access to medical records. Talk to his GP. Who witnessed his seizures? I’m not telling you how I know this as I’ll get them into trouble and I swore I’d never repeat what I heard, but with Keeley dying, I can’t keep quiet, and this isn’t me being a gossip, this is me being concerned for the people in that house. Find out who witnessed Riley’s seizures.’ She turned and walked away.
‘Wait,’ Ellen called out.
The woman didn’t wait. She took long strides back to her home and slammed the front door behind her.
Ellen remained standing in the middle of Acorn Drive with the wind whipping up around her. She looked to the Armitage house. What the hell was happening with this family?
Chapter 36
With another murder and the prospect of interviewing Linda and Craig tomorrow about their daughter being sexually abused, Matilda had hoped for a night to herself. She was going to open a bottle of wine, read the transcript of the interview with the supposed Carl Meagan in France, and then have an early night with a good thriller.