Cold Revenge (Willis/Carter #6)(27)
‘Okay, I have no objection to that,’ said Carter, looking Willis’s way.
‘Why do you want to go there?’ asked Willis.
He shrugged. ‘Even though I studied the Douglas case, I have never been to see it, and it’s really the only solid evidence they ever had against him. I want to understand a little of what it would have been like for Millie and the others, to have known a man like Douglas. Did he dig that grave himself, or did others dig it for him? Were his disciples just as bad as him? Did they take part in the abduction, assault, rape and attempted murder of Rachel? I just want to get a feel for it all.’
‘Okay,’ said Carter. ‘Take a pool car, and you’d better get a move on, it’ll be dark in a few hours.’
After Maxwell had left Carter and Willis stayed where they were to talk.
‘Is he going to be useful in this, do you think?’ asked Willis. ‘He is pretty intense.’
‘I blame the French side of him,’ Carter grinned.
‘He is super-sensitive,’ said Willis. ‘I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around him.’
‘Don’t. Be yourself, blunt as ever. It’s up to him to adjust to us, to fit in, not the other way around. I’m hoping he will be really useful to us in this and I don’t mind the way he’s jumped right in and wants to go the extra mile.’
Willis brought up photos of Millie and the other disciples on her screen.
‘Millie was damaged at the farm and she stayed that way for life. She and Yvonne were warped right at the point when they were as malleable as they were ever going to be in their entire life. Douglas knew that,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Carter. ‘Douglas knew everyone’s weaknesses. Except, I don’t reckon Gavin was moulded by Douglas, he was merely pushed deep into the mould, but he was already a thug.’
‘Agreed,’ said Willis. ‘But Cathy Dwyer? Stephen Perry? They’ve done well since their times at Hawthorn Farm and the bungalow. Have they done well because of it or despite it? Did Douglas’s lessons make them instead of breaking them?’
Chapter 17
Chris Maxwell signed out a detective’s pool car from the desk in Archway station and drove down the M4 and A303 towards Somerset. Two hours down the road and he pulled his car off at the signpost for Hill Farm. He drove for a mile and then stopped to get his bearings.
In the quiet of the early evening, Maxwell got out of the car and stood looking around him. He checked his map, he was in the right place. These were the notes and maps taken from the original investigation. He’d had a look at the farm via Google Earth and it hadn’t changed at all in seventeen years since the day she was brought here to die. Except that was summertime and this was a wet and cold October. The field that he needed was just half a mile from the main road but it was enclosed in a patchwork of small fields and high hedges and it rose steeply to a stand of trees that must have been there for at least a hundred years, tall gnarly oaks. The sky was deep blue tinged with magenta.
Maxwell went around to the boot of the car and reached in to take out his boots.
The gate to the field was open. ‘Hello?’
He jumped. Turning round he found a man walking towards him on the lane.
‘I seen your car lights, what do you want?’
‘Mr Jones?’ asked Chris.
‘Do I know you?’
‘I phoned, my name is Chris Maxwell. I am the crime profiler working for the police. I was hoping to have a look around this field?’
‘Of course, I have no problem with that. I have to keep an eye out for gypsies thinking they can set up camp wherever they like; you go ahead. Is it about Rachel? Lucky for her I was on this road then.’
‘Yes, she was lucky you came along. Have you developed the field since then?’
‘No, the place where he dug the grave is still there. Far side, halfway up on the left of this field where the hedge bulges and there’s an ash tree growing tall from it. You’ll see where it’s marked out. I put a piece of corrugated iron over it. I didn’t like to get rid of it altogether. Thought you might need another look one day. When I first saw your car, looking so clean, I thought maybe you were here about the Euro subsidies, thought you were snooping. It’s all about us leaving the EU now. I don’t know what I’ll do with all my land; it’s not good for planting, there’s no money to be made. I don’t know what will happen to the farms in this country.’
‘Is it all right to park here in the gateway?’ Maxwell wanted to get on before the light went.
‘Yes, you go ahead, do what you’ve got to do. It’s hundreds of acres, mind, are you going to look at all of it, by yourself? You’ll be here for a week.’
‘I’m just here to get an overall view of this field and the few next to it.’
‘I see. Well, you crack on.’ He started to walk away and then turned back. ‘I still find it hard to believe it was Douglas, mind.’ Maxwell carried on putting on his thick socks and boots. ‘When they came here years ago we had police talk to me about a man that used to deliver feed here, they said he might have killed people. I told them at the time, won’t have been Douglas! He was a good chap, you see, nothing was too much trouble for him, he had a nice way about him, do you understand?’ Maxwell nodded and continued pulling out his equipment from the boot of the car. ‘He always helped me out when I needed it,’ continued Jones. ‘Ah, well, she’d never have been found. I was on the way back from the pub when I thought I saw headlights on this lane. By the time I calmed her down and got her in the car, he’d scarpered. When I saw her, I thought, Jesus, Mother of God, how is she still alive?’ He swung his head from side to side. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’