Judas Horse Read online

  Jack wrinkled his brows. Why was Mulhern updating his security?

  Oaks was too focused on reading from his mobile to notice. ‘Post-mortem’s booked for first thing tomorrow morning, but initial observations are crushed skull leading to exsanguination.’ Oaks took a gulp of his cider, then picked a speck of apple from his tongue. ‘It’s a bit on the gritty side. Worth the effort though. Did you see Ronnie’s face when you said he could stay there? He’ll never see the outside of that station! He’ll be glued to a computer screen watching CCTV and doing PNC checks. He’ll bloody hate it!’

  Oaks then excused himself and headed towards the toilets, but not before posing a couple of key questions to think about. ‘I wonder why they tortured him? What did they think he knew?’

  ‘What do you think, Mason?’ Jack’s question was accusatory, and Mason knew it. ‘This is exactly why need-to-know was so important.’ Jack didn’t wait for Mason to deny yet another mistake. ‘Someone at your end told him way too much. He knew “Mr Smart” had more than a passing connection to a couple of old Oxford burglaries. He was scared. That’s why he was taking extra precautions.’ Jack shook his head in disbelief. ‘One look at Mulhern’s face and they’d have known he’d had the cops round asking questions. That’s why they tortured him. To find out how much you knew. And Mulhern would have told them everything before they made the second cut . . . Everything else was sadistic.’

  Mason touched the rim of his pint glass. He just wanted to be able to do something to make his guilt vanish.

  But Jack pushed him further. ‘Carving him up like that. Getting his own horse to trample his bones.’

  Mason squeezed his eyes tight shut. ‘Enough! You’re right, is that what you want me to say?! This is on us. On me, OK? My God, he must have been terrified.’

  Now that Jack had Mason stoked up, he presented the solution. ‘OK. Tomorrow, we target the weakest link. Charlotte Miles. And we make her tell us everything.’

  CHAPTER 15

  Jack had been parked up in his blue Vauxhall Corsa hire car at the end of the driveway to Charlotte and Annie’s smallholding for about an hour. The Corsa had been another one of Oaks’s ‘jokes’ intended to make Jack feel unwelcome, just as the original, dingy B&B had been. But whereas Oaks had been able to change the B&B to his cousin’s pub, he had been unable the change the hire car.

  Mason, slumped low in the passenger seat, looked like he hadn’t slept. He gazed out of the side window, but his eyes couldn’t focus on anything. He was miles away, still thinking about Mr Mulhern.

  The lawnmower that, according to Canteen Barbara, Charlotte had bought from James Somerset for £1,800, was parked underneath the kitchen window. The known finances of this small cottage industry swirled around in Jack’s head: Annie’s father had died, leaving them £200,000 which allowed them to make up their mortgage payments and keep their home – but only just. Charlotte earned, on average, £30,000 a year and Annie’s sporadic wages seemed to come from her one or two shifts per week at The Soho Farmhouse. Was he right about Charlotte? Or was he about to accuse a completely innocent woman of something she knew nothing about?

  Jack felt a small grin forming at the corners of his mouth. He’d underestimated seemingly hard-working, low-income women before. He couldn’t take anything at face value here.

  Jack had parked so that he could see the pigsty. He knew that Annie would by now have sent Alec to slaughter, so he assumed Charlotte would be taking extra care of the others. He was right. Within ten minutes of arriving, Charlotte emerged from the house and wandered, head down and dragging her feet, towards her pigs.

  ‘That her?’ Mason asked eagerly.

  ‘Don’t get out of the car taking it for granted she’s complicit and that she’ll lead us directly to Mulhern’s killer. If she’s our connection between all of the burglaries, I doubt she fully understands how important she is. We’re not here to scare her. OK?’

  As Jack and Mason approached, Charlotte was bent over with her back to them, raking the slurry into a corner, while the remaining pigs constantly got in her way. Charlotte put her hand onto the back of the biggest pig and leant heavily on it. The pig just stood there, as though it knew that she needed support. Charlotte then put the broom into the crook of her elbow, covered her face with her hand and began to sob. Jack and Mason stopped dead in their tracks.

  Jack looked away in an attempt to give her a moment of private grief. Mason, on the other hand, had no clue why she was crying. ‘What’s up with her, Jack?’

  Jack was looking along a dirt path that cut down the side of the smallholding. He walked in that direction, and Mason followed. The dirt path ran the length of the house before disappearing into the back field. What had caught Jack’s attention were the parallel tyre marks; too wide to be a car, and too narrow to be the lawnmower. These were quadbike tracks. As Jack followed the path a little further towards the building, he crossed Charlotte’s eyeline.

  ‘She chose Alec!’ Charlotte was so desperate to talk to someone – anyone – other than the murderous Annie that she didn’t even say ‘hello’. She didn’t seem to be embarrassed by her show of emotion, even though she was still crying quietly. ‘I nursed Alec from the day he was born. He was the runt, so he’s the only one I had to do that with. Pigs are very intelligent animals, DS Warr. And they bond with us. Like dogs.’

  Mason shook his head in disbelief: this seemingly heartbroken woman was crying over a pig! Jack could hear Mason take a long, slow breath to keep himself from smirking.

  ‘This is DI Mason,’ Jack said. ‘From Oxford. His investigation has crossed with ours, so he’s down here for the time being, helping us out.’ Mason tried to redeem himself by smiling sympathetically.

  Before Charlotte could reply, Annie appeared with a farrier come to re-shoe Florrie and Judas before their appearance in the annual equestrian event. If looks could have killed, Annie would have dropped dead right there in the slurry.

  ‘I’ll show you through, James,’ Charlotte barked to the farrier. Clearly she was not going to stay in Annie’s company for a second longer.

  ‘Can I help?’ Annie ventured.

  Jack wasn’t sure what Annie knew, if anything, so he suggested that they all go to the house and wait for Charlotte there. Mason grabbed Jack by the arm. ‘If she won’t talk to us – right now – we should arrest her for obstruction.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘We’re not going to do that, because if she’s the person I think she is, she’s desperate for someone to show her that there’s a way out of the mess she’s in. How the hell does a gardener from Chipping Norton get tangled up with a gang of burglars? She’s not connected emotionally or professionally – so we’re missing something. Once we have that, we have her. Look, Mason, if you want to take the car back to the station, you do that. I’ll make my own way back once I’ve spoken to Charlotte.’

  Every instinct told Mason to go. He’d felt as though he was Jack’s ‘bitch’ ever since finding Mulhern’s dead body and he hated it. He only faltered because the ache in his neck was a constant reminder of Jack’s violent warning: ‘From this second forwards, you’re on my side, sir, or I’ll ruin you without a second thought.’

  Mason followed Annie and Jack to the house.

  In the kitchen, Annie made a pot of tea, then covered it with a woollen cosy in the shape of a hen, and poured a selection of biscuits onto a large plate, telling them to help themselves while she busied herself with tidying.

  Jack was content with the silence while his eyes explored the kitchen, as he intuitively assessed their target’s home for psychological clues that could help them in the questioning.

  Jack’s silent train of thought was broken by his mobile buzzing, and he quickly saw that it was Maggie calling. The fact that Maggie was calling instead of texting when she knew he was at work made him instantly worried. He excused himself and stepped outside.

  Maggie’s first words were, ‘We’re all fine.’ She then fell silent and her nois
y breathing told Jack that she was crying. ‘Take your time,’ he said gently. ‘I’m here.’

  After a long silence, Maggie eventually said, ‘Regina’s been taken into hospital. Her baby’s going to come three months too soon.’ Jack said nothing as there was nothing to say. ‘I’m going to go and be with her and Penny’s going to look after Hannah. I just needed to hear your voice . . . I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too,’ he said. ‘But you’re not crying because you miss me.’

  ‘We’re so lucky, Jack. Yesterday, Hannah was lying on her tummy and pushed herself up on her arms all by herself and I . . . I called her a clever girl and clapped my hands. These milestones . . . the same milestones that, for Regina, may never even be reached and I . . .’

  ‘Mags, Mags, Mags . . . she’ll be thinking about all of the worst-case-scenarios; she needs you to remind her of the best-case stuff.’

  ‘What if I can’t? What if she sees that I know the stats and the problems and the—’

  ‘Go and be with her. You’ve got this, Maggie. You’re not her doctor, you’re her friend. This is the woman you not-so-subtly feed when she hasn’t got the money to feed herself. You love her, so this is easy, Mags. You’re exactly who she needs. And before you ask me how I know, I’ll tell you: because that’s what you are to everyone in your life.’ Maggie came out with a snotty sounding laugh. Jack could then hear the clatter of her mobile being put down and the distant trumpet of her blowing her nose.

  As Jack waited for Maggie to return, he saw Charlotte walking back towards the house, still looking furious. Jack smiled at the thought of Mason having to referee these two feisty women as they tore into each other over the recent murder of Alec the pig.

  There was another clatter in Jack’s ear as Maggie picked up her mobile. ‘Right,’ she spoke with renewed strength. ‘I’m going to be at the hospital for the rest of today, but I’ll text you later to let you know what’s happening.’ Jack said he’d look forward to the update, which Maggie knew was a lie; but she appreciated him saying it.

  As Jack approached the house, he was a expecting a scene of mayhem. In fact, Annie had left the room, Charlotte was washing her hands furiously, and Mason was drinking tea he clearly didn’t want just to avoid saying anything.

  Before Jack could speak, Charlotte turned to him with an angry look. She was clearly up for an argument and if Annie wasn’t going to give it to her, then Jack would do. ‘I’m not speaking to you today, DS Warr. You already know that I work for all of the burglary victims, just as most local produce suppliers do. I don’t know what else you need to ask me. If you do need to speak to me, perhaps call ahead next time. I have two businesses to run and Annie has now left me on my own for the rest of today it seems.’

  Jack listened intently. Not to the words Charlotte said, but to the audible quiver in her voice. She was flustered and he wanted to know why, so today was exactly the right day to talk to her. ‘Charlotte, I’m happy to talk here, if that suits you better, but we will be talking today. Because I know we can help each other.’

  There was a flicker of fear in Charlotte’s eyes. She quickly turned away, but she knew that Jack had seen it. She started talking nineteen to the dozen about needing to ride Judas’s new shoes in once the farrier had gone, and Jack now knew that she was scared and had no idea how to get herself back to a safe place. She was stuck and needed his help, and although she would not see it as help, Jack did the only thing he could under the circumstances: ‘Charlotte Miles, I’m arresting you for obstructing police enquiries.’ By the time Jack had recited her rights, Charlotte was shaking and sobbing.

  *

  Jack didn’t handcuff her. In the car, he sat in the back with her and, at the station, he escorted her towards the purposely scary back cage that led into the processing area. They were met by Bevan, who was given clear instructions that Charlotte wasn’t to be left alone. Jack wanted Charlotte to fully experience the frightening truth of what it was like to be in police custody, and he wanted her to look to himself and Bevan for comfort. Jack wanted Charlotte to need him.

  ‘DC Bevan will stay with you until you’re processed,’ he told her gently. ‘And then she’ll take you to the interview room.’

  As Charlotte was led away, Mason nodded his appreciation of Jack’s psychological tactics. ‘You think you’re good at manipulating people, don’t you, Jack?’

  ‘I know I am,’ Jack said with a straight face, and Mason laughed.

  ‘What’s funny?’ Mason turned to see Gifford standing behind him.

  Mason shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  Gifford grunted, nodding towards the Vauxhall Corsa. ‘You got the keys to that shit-heap? You could come with me and meet Mr Barrowman. He’s a big player round here, so I want to keep him on-side.’

  Mason, to his own surprise and certainly to Gifford’s, declined, saying that he wanted to sit in on Jack’s interview with Charlotte.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, Mason, she’s been interviewed! Twice! He’s going over well-trodden ground, whilst the rest of us are pushing ahead. Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Gifford got into the hire car and slammed the door.

  Annie had stormed out of the house after Charlotte had had yet another go at her for murdering Alec the pig. She’d then stocked her basket with the day’s deliveries and headed off into the village via the riverbank path. At the craft shop, several women had delighted in telling Annie that, not five minutes earlier, they’d seen Charlotte being driven down the main street in the back of an unmarked police car. By the time she arrived at the station, she was in an anxious state.

  Jack put her mind at ease straight away. ‘Charlotte is here to speak with us, Annie. I expect her to be back home with you by this evening . . . as long as she answers our questions, that is.’

  ‘Can I see her?’ Annie asked.

  Jack shook his head. ‘This is official. She refused to speak to me at the house, which is why I had to bring her here.’

  Annie’s mobile rang. She glanced at the screen and sent it to voicemail. ‘I doubt she refused to speak with you because she has anything to hide,’ she explained, trying to help as best she could. ‘It’ll be because I killed Alec. When she feels like she’s losing control, she shuts down, you see. She’s always been like that. Awful at expressing her feelings. She’s a brooder. What I’m saying is . . . she’s not a bad person, she’s just upset.’

  Annie’s mobile rang twice more while she was talking. Her caller was so persistent that she eventually answered it, snapping, ‘Dad, not now! Sorry. Yes, well, I’m in the middle of something and you’re only calling about your honey, I suppose. Well then, wait! Give me five minutes and I’ll call you back.’ Then she hung up.

  Jack explained that he’d be careful when speaking to Charlotte and take into account her emotional state, and when she realised she was not going to be able to speak to her, Annie sighed and said, ‘Tell her that I’m thinking of her then and that I’ll be at home. Waiting.’

  Jack promised and Annie cycled away, with her mobile still beeping away in her pocket.

  Jack headed towards the back cage, where Mason was patiently waiting for him. He slowed, with a frown on his face. ‘I just remembered something . . .’ Jack thought for a moment. ‘Charlotte and Annie told me that when Annie’s dad died he left them £200,000, which they used to pay off the mortgage. But that phone call was from Annie’s dad.’

  Mason grinned. ‘So, where did they get the two hundred grand from?’ He clearly thought the money was Charlotte’s pay-off for being their gang’s insider.

  Mason and Jack stood in the observation room, behind the two-way mirror that allowed them to watch Charlotte and DC Bevan in the interview room. Bevan stood just inside the door, like a sentry, while Charlotte sat at the table, fingers lightly touching the rim of a polystyrene cup of tea.

  Jack entered the interview room and took his seat opposite Charlotte. She sat up straight in her chair, like
a schoolgirl when a teacher walks into the classroom.

  ‘How’s Judas? New shoes OK?’

  Charlotte looked confused. She wasn’t expecting small talk. ‘I’ll try not to keep you from him for too long. I expect you have a lot to prepare before the upcoming equestrian event. So . . .’ Jack turned the tape recorder on and introduced those present in the room. He then reminded Charlotte that she was under caution and that she’d declined legal representation, although she could change that any time she wanted. He then asked her to verbally confirm that she’d understood everything he said. ‘I saw Annie outside.’ Again, Jack’s words threw Charlotte off-balance. ‘She’s gone home to wait for you. I said you’d more than likely be back later today. As soon as we’ve finished talking.’

  In the observation room, Mason grinned and nodded to himself. Jack was promising Charlotte something he knew she wanted: he was promising Annie. The reward of being back home with the woman she loved, dangled in front of her like a carrot on a stick . . . and to get her reward she had to tell Jack what he wanted to know. It was a cleverly veiled threat because the unspoken flipside of heading home ‘as soon as we’ve finished talking’, was that she would stay in custody if she refused to talk. Charlotte was becoming putty in Jack’s hands, whilst Jack, to the untrained eye, still remained very much ‘the good cop’.

  When Jack started the interview in earnest, he was straight to the point. ‘You told me that four years ago Annie’s dad passed away and left you £200,000; is that right?’

  Charlotte nodded.

  Jack looked at her. ‘Only, when Annie was outside the police station earlier, she received a phone call from her dad.’

  Charlotte was quick to answer. ‘That’s Bob. Her stepdad. Annie’s real dad passed away four years ago. Him and her mum split back in, oh I don’t know . . . I’ve never known them be together. He had a poor relationship with everyone in the family but, still, when he died, he left everything to Annie. Her mum has been with Bob for as long as I’ve known them. Lovely man. His memory’s not so good anymore. It would have been Bob who phoned her. I imagine he called a few times times,’ she smiled. ‘He usually does.’