Written In Blood

25-1

25

Melissa couldn’t help wishing she was somewhere else as she waited nervously with Sergeant Mitchell. It was not that she didn’t want to see her grandmother, she was always happy to see her, it was the reason they were there she had a problem with.

“Hello, Lewis, Melissa, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Constance Hawkins asked when she saw who was on her doorstep.

“Hello, Constance, sorry to disturb you on a Sunday,” Mitchell said. “But we need to ask you some questions, I hope that’s alright.”

Constance smiled. “Of course it is, I’m always happy to have visitors, no matter what the reason. You’ve timed your visit well, I’ve just put the kettle on for a cup of tea, would either of you like one?”

Mitchell and Melissa nodded in unison.

“I didn’t see you in church this morning, Melissa,” Constance said disapprovingly as she shut the door.

Melissa flushed. “I was busy, nan, I had to work.” It sounded like an excuse, even to her. “I’ll go as soon as I’ve got a chance.” Thankfully, nothing more was said about her absence from church.,

“So, how can I help you, Lewis?” Constance asked once she had made the tea and the three of them were seated in the living with their drinks. “You said you have some questions for me.”

“That’s right. I want to ask you about Friday afternoon; I know I spoke to you about it yesterday, but I need to confirm a few things,” Mitchell said, putting his cup back on its saucer and then setting it down on the coffee table. “I hope that’s okay.” When Constance nodded, he got down to business. “Can you remember what time it was when you saw Lucy Goulding leave Mr Wild’s place on Friday afternoon?”

Constance made a sincere effort to remember, but was forced to shake her head. “I’m sorry, I know it was sometime between three o’clock and half past, but I don’t know the exact time.”

“That’s okay, Mr Wild wasn’t able to give us an exact time either,” Mitchell said. “Can you tell us what happened after you saw Lucy leave Mr Wild’s?” He saw the unhappy look on Constance’s face and anticipated what she was going to say. “Mr Wild has said he didn’t leave the house after Lucy left, and his lawyer has suggested that because of your age you might have been mistaken about what you saw; that’s why I had to let him go.

“Because of that, I need to check that you’re sure of what you saw, so I can add it to whatever other evidence we’re able to find and make an airtight case against him.”

“His lawyer doesn’t know you like we do, gran,” Melissa said, almost choking on a large mouthful of fruitcake as she tried to swallow it quickly so she could speak. “She thinks because you’re a bit older, you must have problems with your eyes; we know you don’t. Even if you did, it’s not like you can’t recognise an Aston Martin when you see one; you might not be able to say what model it is, but when it’s been parked next door for months, you know it when it goes past.”

Constance nodded, but then said, “It wasn’t that fancy car of Mr Wild’s I saw on Friday, it was his Land Rover.”

Mitchell felt his heart sink. “You are certain it was Mr Wild you saw driving down the road after Lucy, though, aren’t you?” His heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he heard Constance’s answer.

“Of course I’m sure. Even with the sun in my eyes I know my neighbour.”

“The sun was in your eyes?” It was several long moments before Mitchell could bring himself to say anything more than that.

Constance nodded. “It was that sort of day,” she said. “It didn’t seem to matter where I stood, or which way I turned, the sun was constantly in my eyes, fair blinded me it did. I’m not likely to make a mistake about seeing my neighbour drive down the road, though, even when I couldn’t see him all that well. I mean, who else could it have been in that Land Rover.”

It took every ounce of self-control he could muster to keep Mitchell from swearing, loudly and repeatedly. The situation was going from bad to worse, and he could only wonder what his witness was going to say next to scupper the case he was trying to put together. “To my knowledge,” he began, picking his words carefully. “There are three Land Rovers in the village, and probably more in the local area, that look almost identical to Mr Wild’s, it could have been any one of them if you couldn’t see who was behind the wheel properly.

“Did you see the license number, or anything about the vehicle that would enable you to pick it out as Mr Wild’s ahead of any of the others in the village?”

A shake of Constance’s head answered the question. “I’m sorry, I wish I could say I had but I didn’t. Who else could it have been, though?” she asked. “Neil Stuart has no business being over this way; I would never have thought it was Mr Wild if it was Chris Peake – even with the sun in my eyes, I can tell the difference between a man and a woman, and I saw Glen Wright head down the road in his other Land Rover earlier, before two that was.”

“Could you perhaps describe any of the clothes worn by the driver?” Mitchell asked hopefully. “Maybe we can identify Mr Wild that way.”

**