Body in the Woods (Carlos Jacobi Book 1) Read online

  ‘Yes, that’s Lady. I’m not deliberately getting in the way, but yes, I guess I am now. Do you work for CID?’

  ‘Yeah. DS Fiona Cook at your service. I’ve been assigned to work with DCI Masters on this one.’

  Carlos couldn’t help frowning. ‘What about that McDonald chap I met last night?’

  ‘This morning was his last shift. He’s on holiday over the Christmas season, on his way to Scotland. Lucky beggar.’

  ‘Wonderful news! I’m really pleased to see you. Come on through, I’ve got the percolator on. I remember you like it black and strong.’

  Fiona followed him through to the kitchen and sat on a barstool with difficulty.

  ‘These things aren’t made for people my size.’

  Carlos loved the way she could laugh at herself and didn’t take life too seriously. Her attitude was the thing that had drawn him to her when they met while he was working a case in London.

  ‘Here, bring your coffee. Let’s go through to the lounge where we can both sit comfortably.’

  ‘Working?’ Fiona nodded towards the open laptop on the breakfast bar before they moved.

  ‘Just finishing up a case and combining it with a visit to my sister. Rachel’s working nights over Christmas.’

  ‘Me too – not nights, but covering the whole festive season. Someone’s got to do it. I met your sister Sophie this morning. I like her.’

  Carlos smiled, proudly. ‘I haven’t seen her since I got back so don’t have an update. I take it the dead man’s the neighbour’s husband?’

  ‘Yeah. We have confirmation now. I’m going next door in a bit, I was hoping to take your sister with me. And catch you, of course, once I heard you were here. Be careful. I don’t know the history, but the DCI doesn’t like you at all.’

  ‘Feeling’s mutual.’ Carlos glared into his coffee mug. Fiona clearly accepted he didn’t want to talk on the topic.

  ‘I have to be loyal; you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect anything else. Are you happy to tell me where you’re at?’

  ‘As far as the boss’s concerned, it’s an open and shut case of a mugging gone wrong. There was no wallet on the body—’

  Carlos laughed. ‘What did I say, Lady? Robbery or some such thing.’ He stroked Lady’s head.

  ‘I assume it was this wonderful Lady who found the body?’

  ‘Yes, she’s an ex-police dog.’

  Lady walked over to Fiona and lay on her feet. ‘Clever girl,’ said Fiona, stroking her.

  ‘She likes you.’

  ‘Good with animals, hopeless with men, that’s me. Anyway, back to next door. Harold Sissons was killed by a blow to the head with a blunt instrument. The pathologist believes it may have been a spade; he found mud in the wound that he thinks came from the blow, not just the fact he’d been buried. Something to do with the depth.’

  Carlos raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I know. How can they tell? The mud in the wound was fertilised topsoil whereas the burial site is, I guess, just mud! Occasionally, according to a PC who lives in these parts, people go metal detecting in the woods and dig up their finds. I need to check whether next door’s spade is missing. The boss believes the old boy stumbled across someone in the woods and was hit with his own spade, then robbed. It’s plausible.’

  ‘Does your crack DCI have any suspects?’

  ‘Oh yeah. He’s on his way to arrest one of the local yobs now while I tell the wife the case is just about solved.’ Fiona couldn’t hide the disdain in her voice. ‘I’m not sure the poor thing has even grasped her husband has been murdered yet.’

  ‘She does appear frail. I take it you don’t think the case is quite so simple?’

  ‘I don’t know yet, but I do like to investigate and cover every avenue before leaping to an arrest. It makes us look foolish when it turns out to be a false one. His theory is plausible, but by no means proven.’

  ‘Do you have any suspects yourself, Fiona?’

  ‘No, but I’d like to rule a few people out and check alibis. There are half a dozen people who could know something, maybe more.’

  She had Carlos’s attention. ‘Such as?’

  ‘Well clearly we have to look at family. That’s just his wife, from what I can gather. As you know, more often than not, the victim is known to the killer. The wife seems muddled and frail, so she doesn’t go to the top of my list, but there’s an estranged daughter I’d like to talk to. Presumably there’s also a son-in-law. We don’t know if there’s any financial motive yet – other than the fact he had no wallet on him, so that’s missing. Then I want to speak to people who saw him in the local community centre before he disappeared. From what I’ve managed to find out so far, he was a bit of a mystery. Known but not known, if you understand the meaning. Then there’s the spade. Was it his or someone else’s? If our local yobbo was involved, he’s hardly likely to be walking round the woods carrying a spade.’

  ‘I see. Why the community centre? Where is it?’

  ‘It’s on the side of the green where you cross to go into the woods. Harold Sissons had been to the weekly lecture there, so he could have gone to the woods afterwards, either alone or with someone.’

  ‘He couldn’t have been metal detecting, then, unless he went home first. His wife told Sophie he didn’t go home that afternoon. Have you managed to speak to anyone from the centre yet?’

  Fiona sighed. ‘I’ve been told not to, but I will. I’m loyal in that I’m not going to talk about my boss, but I’ve still been assigned, so will do my job.’

  ‘Why doesn’t he want you to interview people there?’

  ‘He says they were interviewed after Harold Sissons went missing and we shouldn’t waste time repeating work that’s already been done.’

  Carlos rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. ‘Are forensics still working in the woods?’

  ‘They’ve left the area cordoned off but have finished. Why?’

  Carlos gulped his coffee. ‘Fiona, I need to tell you something.’

  ‘Why does that fill me with dread?’

  Carlos grimaced. ‘About the dead man’s wallet…’

  Fiona listened as Carlos explained his find from this morning’s outing and how he had hoped the wallet would be discovered when forensics or the police returned to the crime scene.

  ‘I do hope you’ve got an alibi for last Thursday, Carlos, or you might find yourself under arrest.’

  Carlos pulled out his notebook and traced back to the date. He looked over to Fiona. ‘To be honest, I don’t, apart from Lady here. We were on a stakeout. Surely, Masters wouldn’t think I had anything to do with it. I didn’t even know the man.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but something he said in the car after we left next door this morning made me fear for you. I think you’d better tell me where this wallet is, and I’ll go and find it after I finish up next door. He won’t be happy, but I can come up with some excuse as to why I decided to return to the scene of the crime. It will save him embarrassment later, so I should get away with it.’

  ‘Please don’t get into trouble on my account. I’m a big boy.’

  ‘Think of it as a favour to Rachel. We can’t have her boyfriend locked away for Christmas, can we?’

  Carlos had introduced Rachel to Fiona shortly after he first met her, and the two women had become inseparable when Fiona later moved to Leeds, where Rachel was based. Complete opposites in that Rachel’s a fitness fanatic and health food guru while Fiona’s a junk food addict and would swear she’s allergic to exercise. Their humour brought them together. That and the fact they both go to church – a rarity in the police force.

  The women had bonded and Rachel was gutted when Fiona moved to take up a DS promotion. Carlos had forgotten it had been Derbyshire Fiona had moved to and wondered why Rachel hadn’t reminded him so he could look her up. Surely it wouldn’t be jealousy, although Rachel still bore the scars of a broken engagement. Her loss was his good fortune, but the scars ran deep and
their relationship, though solid, sometimes felt like walking on broken glass. Convincing her of his love was all he wanted to do, but the man before him had done that, and then betrayed her with another woman.

  He sighed. ‘Thanks, Fiona. I appreciate it.’

  ‘She does love you. You know that?’

  ‘I hope so. Love isn’t something we talk about yet. I need to give her space and time to trust me.’

  ‘She’s the most stable woman I know. This hiccup over that pathetic ex of hers will pass. It’s all about trust. Hey, listen to me – the one who can’t hold a relationship together for longer than a month – giving advice.’ The infectious laugh rang out, causing Lady to jump up and wag her tail frantically.

  ‘Thanks again, Fiona. You’re a good friend, and your turn will come.’

  Fiona turned serious. ‘Maybe, but what if I don’t really want it to?’

  Carlos couldn’t tell whether she was joking or not. He liked this woman and had a feeling he might be getting to know her a whole lot more over the Christmas break.

  ‘You’re a wonderful person. There’s a Mister Right out there looking for you.’

  ‘How do you know it’s not a Miss Right?’

  Carlos flushed, hoping he hadn’t made a dreadful mistake. She thumped him on the arm, laughing.

  ‘No, I’m straight. Shame, really, because I think I’d have much more luck with women.’

  They laughed again as he walked her to the door.

  ‘Sorry about the wallet.’

  ‘You’re going to owe me. That’s enough reward for now. Hey, while the boss isn’t here, do you want to join me next door? I know you’re gonna stick your oar in, so you might as well.’

  Carlos grinned. ‘Love to, but do you want to check with the old lady first? I might have offended her this morning when she asked me to join Sophie for her meeting with Masters. I didn’t think he’d welcome my presence.’

  ‘Goodness, that would have been a disaster. The right decision, whether she was offended or not. I’ll ask and text if she says yes.’

  Carlos hurriedly shut down his computer and gave Lady fresh water. Moments later, he got the text message with a thumbs-up sign. He scribbled a note to Sophie letting her know where he would be should she arrive home early and opened the front door, stopping in his tracks when he saw another car approaching the house next door. He recognised the man at the wheel with a face so hot it could melt snow. Closing the door quickly, he fired a text back to Fiona, warning her of Masters’s imminent arrival, and let out a huge sigh of relief their paths hadn’t crossed again so soon.

  ‘That was close, Lady.’ He wondered why Masters looked so angry. Surely it couldn’t be anything related to him? Masters couldn’t know that Fiona had been to see him, although a few minutes earlier and he would have caught them talking. They would have to be more careful in future. Fiona might have been able to fob her boss off with an excuse that she had come to see if Sophie would join her to deliver the bad news to Mrs Sissons on this occasion, but not if it became a habit.

  He put the mugs in the dishwasher, changed the note to Sophie and grabbed Lady’s lead.

  ‘Come on, Lady. Let’s go visit that community centre.’

  8

  Carlos arrived at the community centre in the village just as a meeting was ending. He tied Lady up outside.

  ‘Stay, girl.’

  From the notice on the door, he gleaned it had been a historical society lecture. A general hubbub echoed around the large main hall with groups of people chatting while drinking tea or coffee. Carlos wandered in with no-one challenging him as to why he was there. He noticed a few people engaging in conversation with a man packing away a slide projector, presumably the speaker. Spying a crowd around a kitchenette serving bar, he made his way over. People mingling close by were being served hot drinks and biscuits.

  A vicar stopped him in his tracks.

  ‘Hello there. I’m afraid the talk is over, but we are still serving tea and coffee. You’re welcome to join us. I’m Barney, Barney Milnthorpe.’

  ‘Carlos Jacobi.’ Carlos shook the proffered hand.

  ‘We haven’t seen you here before. Are you visiting the area? We have so many delightful villages in the Peaks. In fact, we’ve just had a talk on the plague of Eyam. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.’

  Carlos didn’t know which question to answer first, but realised the vicar wasn’t expecting one at all as he waxed lyrical on the afternoon’s topic of interest. Carlos had to confess he’d not heard of the Eyam plague.

  ‘Eyam’s just up the road from here,’ the friendly vicar continued. ‘You may have visited it already. The astonishing thing was that while the bubonic plague was running rampant throughout the country, the residents of Eyam, under instruction from the rector, William Mompesson – now famous in these parts – locked themselves in and cut themselves off from the outside world to contain the infection. A selfless act if ever there was one.’

  Carlos found himself fascinated by the story despite himself, and momentarily lost the focus of why he was visiting the community centre.

  ‘They showed incredible bravery,’ Barney continued. ‘Well over half the population died and are buried around here. The village has been a source of local and national interest to historians ever since.’

  ‘My girlfriend studied history at university. She would love the story if she doesn’t already know about it. She and her father share the passion. Actually, her father’s a vicar in Hertfordshire.’

  ‘How interesting. Perhaps I’ve met him. We do leave our cloisters every so often and gather for national and international meetings. What’s his name? Forgive me for asking, but Jacobi is a Jewish name, isn’t it? I’m interested in names; etymology is one of my hobbies.’

  Again, Carlos was stumped to know whether an answer was required to either question, but as the ebullient vicar had paused for breath, he decided to answer the first one.

  ‘Brendan Prince is my girlfriend’s father.’

  Barney shook his head. ‘No, not familiar, but I might know his face if I saw him. Prince, now that is an interesting surname—’

  ‘Barney, darling, do let this young man find a drink.’

  Carlos was rescued by a tall, slim woman with permed ash-blonde hair. She was around the same age as the vicar, mid-fifties, and presumably his wife. She took Carlos by the arm and directed him to where tea was being served.

  ‘My husband loves to talk to people he hasn’t met before,’ she apologised.

  ‘He was telling me about today’s talk, it sounded fascinating.’

  ‘Oh, it was, although when you live so close, you’ve heard it so many times, but it is an old favourite among our historical society, particularly when Reggie delivers it.’ She turned and waved to the speaker who was leaving the hall. ‘Are you visiting the area?’

  ‘Yes, I’m staying with my sister and brother-in-law. Sophie and Gary Cole.

  ‘We’ve met Gary, but I don’t think your sister comes to church, does she?’

  ‘They’ve not long moved to the area and she’s been busy decorating the house. She works long hours, too.’

  ‘I see. What does she do? I know Gary works for Rolls Royce.’

  ‘She’s a paralegal for a law firm.’ Carlos didn’t mention the firm specialised in medical negligence, as he didn’t want his sister inundated with questions about potential claims.

  ‘Interesting. Perhaps we’ll see both of them at the carol service in church Sunday night. And you, I hope, if you’re staying over the Christmas season. I’m Doreen, by the way. Barney’s my husband.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Doreen. I’m Carlos. I’ll mention the carol service when I get back, and I’d love to come, thank you.’ Carlos knew from Rachel’s home village how the community often congregated around the church in one way or another, if not for religious services, then for other meetings. The community centre was next door to the church, he’d noticed on his way in. ‘You probably know their
next-door neighbour, Meg Sissons.’

  ‘Yes, we do. Poor love. I try to visit her most weeks. She hasn’t been seen much since her husband went missing. Not that she ever came out without Harold. I expect you’ve heard about his disappearance. The police told her he’d run away, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. Now we’ve had sad news on that front. A body’s been found in the local woods. It’s sent shock waves through the community, I can tell you.’

  Barney appeared behind his wife, clearly not wanting to miss out on what could be the village gossip for some time.

  ‘We don’t know for certain it was Harold, Doreen.’ Looking back at Carlos, ‘I overheard you saying you’re staying next door to Meg, Carlos. Perhaps you’ve heard something.’

  ‘Yes, a body has been found, sadly. My brother-in-law and I stumbled across it last night. Well, it was my dog who found the poor man, really.’ Carlos had now drawn a crowd of half a dozen people keen to glean what they could. A woman serving tea craned her neck as she handed him a cup and saucer.

  ‘And was the body that of Harold Sissons?’ asked an elderly man with piercing blue eyes and an air of military authority. Others stood aside to let him in closer.

  ‘I believe it was Mr Sissons, yes. Earlier, I met a detective who was about to give Mrs Sissons the tragic news.’

  Quiet gasps and a murmuring filled the air, with some people saying, ‘I told you so. No way he would have left Peaks Hollow.’

  ‘Heart attack, I suppose?’ said Barney.

  ‘Well, death comes to us all eventually. He did tend to be a stress head, I’m not surprised he’s snuffed it. Can’t say he was popular around here, either.’ The military man sniffed.

  ‘Martin, you shouldn’t say things like that,’ admonished Doreen. ‘They were a very solid couple. He donated hundreds to the church restoration fund.’

  Martin sniffed again, loudly. ‘Only so he could get lead mention in the parish magazine. He never did anything without an ulterior motive.’

  Carlos paid attention. The general nods Martin’s comment attracted confirmed the late man’s lack of popularity. It appeared Harold may not have been the innocuous elderly gentleman Sophie thought he was. Certainly not according to some members of the historical society.