When You're Sleeping, page 7
Finn's eyes lit up. The oldest whiskey he had ever drank was less than 30, and that cost a fortune. He looked at Amelia hopefully. She shook her head with a raised eyebrow like chastising a child.'
"No, thank you," Amelia said. "We're on duty."
Finn sighed. "Another time, perhaps."
Edward Keatings then sat down in an armchair across from them, nursing his glass.
"What do you know about Dolores Mayfield?" Finn asked gently.
Edward sighed and took a sip of his drink before regaining his composure. "I have known her since childhood," he said. "We were very close in our teenage years." His gaze lingered on the painting above the mantelpiece as he spoke.
He then fell silent for a moment before continuing. "I believe she may have come here recently as a guest of my sister, but I cannot be certain," he said finally. "It has been some time since I last saw her."
Finn could sense the sadness in Edward's voice as he spoke of Dolores' death.
"Was there a falling out?" Finn asked.
"Two young lovers," Edward smiled for the first time. "We had an intense love affair when we were 18 and then... Well... My attentions were drawn elsewhere."
"Why would she be visiting your sister if you split up years ago?" Amelia inquired.
"My sister Joseline was always close with Dolores," Edward said. "She didn't feel she should end their friendship on account of my wanderings."
Edward took a long, hard sip of his drink. He looked at his glass and said "poor Dolores" mournfully.
Then, he stood up, agitated. "Who in the hell would want to kill Dolores?"
"We were hoping you could help us with that," Finn explained.
Edward shook his head. "It's been over a decade since Dolores and I spoke with any real connection. I have no idea of her life and what might have gone wrong in it."
"Do you know anything about recent events or people that may be connected to both your distant cousin Helen Baxter or Dolores Mayfield?"
Edward shook his head sadly and put his glass down on the side table with a clink.
"I'm afraid not," he said softly. "I wish there was more I could tell you."
Finn nodded understandingly. "Could we speak with your sister?"
Edward nodded. "I'll show you the way." He stood up and motioned for them to follow him out of the sitting room and down another hallway, this one decorated with intricate floral wallpaper.
As they walked, Finn couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something about Edward's demeanor that seemed off, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Finally, they arrived at a set of heavy wooden doors, which Edward pushed open to reveal a grand library. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, and a fireplace crackled merrily in one corner of the room.
A woman with long black hair was seated at a desk, engrossed in a thick tome. When she heard the door open, she glanced up and smiled warmly at Edward.
"Edward, my dear," she said as she rose from the desk. "How lovely to see you. Back from business?"
"Joseline," Edward said, greeting his sister with a kiss on the cheek. "These two are detectives
investigating the death of Dolores Mayfield. Inspector Amelia Winters and...
"Finn Wright," Finn added. "I'm a consultant detective with the Home Office."
"Of course..." Edward said. "They were hoping to ask you a few questions, Joseline."
Joseline's expression immediately turned serious. "Of course," she said, motioning for Finn and Amelia to take a seat in front of her desk. "What can I assist you with?"
"I'm very sorry," Amelia said softly. "But three bodies were found on the river near the castle after the flood."
"Oh, no," Joseline said, her voice starting to tremble as if knowing the implications.
"Two of the victims were known to your family," Amelia continued. "Helen Baxter, your distant cousin, and Dolores Mayweather."
Joseline let out a shrieking cry. Edward rushed to her side to comfort her, but she pushed him away and stood up from her desk. "What? That can't be right," she said, her voice shaking with disbelief. "I just saw Dolores last week, she was fine. And Helen not long before that. What an awful accident!"
"I'm sorry to say, but we believe both were murdered and then either left on the riverbank or swept there from somewhere else," Amelia revealed.
"No..." Joseline gasped.
Finn leaned forward, searching her expression. "Do you know if there was anyone who had a grudge against Dolores or Helen?"
Joseline shook her head frantically. "No, no, they were both lovely women. Why would anyone want to harm them?"
"We don't know," Finn said. "But due to their proximity to the castle..."
"What Finn is getting at is that we need to rule out those in the vicinity," Amelia said.
"You don't think that we would ever be involved in such a thing!?" Edward said, his voice raising.
"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about," Finn said, not wanting to commit either way. "But would you be willing to give us a list of your servants and everyone who lives here?"
“Joseline and I are the only two regular residents here,” Edward said. “Some other family members come and go from time to time, but I believe we two are the only ones who have been here during this nasty business.”
Finn wasn't sure about that. He had a feeling that Edward was answering like a politician, that he was telling the truth from one perspective, but from another, a falsehood could be revealed.
“Who are these other family members?” Finn pressed.
Edward waved his hand nonchalantly. “Uncles, Aunts, cousins, that sort of thing. But it's been very quiet of late. We tend to enjoy the peace.”
“And the servants?” Amelia asked.
"There are only three," Joseline said with a look towards Edward. "Edward thinks having a large number of servants is a waste of money."
"My sister disagrees, of course," Edward interjected. "But if we are to entertain, we will simply hire in an outside company. And there has been no real entertaining here for some time."
"I just can't believe it," Joseline said, almost to herself. "Both murdered...
"We're still investigating, Joseline," Finn said gently. "But there was a third unidentified victim. You wouldn't know of anyone else missing, would you? Someone who was either staying at the castle or who you were expecting?"
"No," Joseline said. "I haven't had any guests over for a couple of weeks. Not with all of this work going on."
"Work?" Finn asked. "On the castle?"
"A subsidence on the south side," Edward explained. "We've been having repairs done over that time. The workers aren't here today because of the flooding."
Finn nodded. "Would you mind if we spoke with them, just to cross-check their schedules and alibis?"
"Of course not," Joseline said, wiping away a tear. "I just want to know who could have done this to
Dolores and Helen."
Edward pulled out a business card and handed it to Finn. "That's the construction company. Ask for a man named Kilbraid. He's overseeing the work here."
"How many people have been on site?" Finn asked.
"Oh, I don't know," Edward said. "I'd say around 30 or so."
Finn looked at Amelia. That was a lot of potential suspects. If someone nearby had murdered the three victims, one of among those thirty could have been the killer.
Finn pocketed the card and nodded towards Amelia. It was time to go through the list and see if any of them had a criminal record.
CHAPTER NINE
The killer knew he was taking a risk with so many police around, but he had to observe their operation to protect his own. He had to know how close they were to uncovering the truth. Returning to a crime scene was foolish, being a professional, this he knew. And so he tried his best to keep his distance, but close enough to evaluate how to move forward.
Through the lenses of his binoculars, the killer's view of the river was clear and unobstructed. Standing atop a secluded hill, he watched with a cold detachment as police and forensics teams scoured the scene where the bodies had been found. The tumultuous waters on the river ebbing and flowing like the chaos he had unleashed.
Despite his elevated position, he felt an unsettling sensation of vulnerability, and fragility was not something he liked to admit in himself. He usually felt strong, and he disposed of the weak when they got in his way. The binoculars brought him closer to the scene, a silent observer to the aftermath of his actions. He watched as the investigators moved meticulously, examining every inch of the riverbank, every piece of evidence that could possibly lead them to him.
As he observed, his thoughts drifted to the meticulous planning that he had always taken as a point of pride. He had to admit that he had always enjoyed killing, but that had been tempered with strategy. But something had changed inside of him recently. Something had snapped.
Had everything he'd worked on been thrown away in a rash moment of blood lust?
Suddenly, something caught his eye. Near the castle, a car emerged from its black gates. The car was moving slowly on the water-logged road.
He adjusted the focus on his binoculars, zeroing in on the driver and his passenger. The passenger was the woman detective he had seen earlier that morning while observing from afar, her red hair distinct even from this distance. Next to her was her partner, the man who had recently arrived in Cornwall. Blond hair and muscular, there was no doubt that they were Finn Wright and Amelia Winters, the two detectives who had set the upper class aflame with gossip of murder mysteries and deranged killers put behind bars. It had been all over the papers, but the killer had already heard about them through rubbing shoulders with people far richer, far more powerful, and far more dangerous.
They were chatting as they drove, it looked like Finn was cracking jokes to Amelia. They seemed more relaxed than they should have been.
The killer felt a surge of adrenaline at the sight of them. They were the embodiment of the challenge he now faced, the obstacle to his continued freedom. Were they relaxed because they knew something, or because they had no idea about how deep the conspiracy went?
He had heard of their reputation, their knack for solving even the most complex cases. A part of him relished the thought of outwitting them, of being the one case they couldn't crack.
But another part of him, the part that had kept him safe and undetected for so long, urged caution. He couldn't afford to underestimate them, to get caught up in a game of cat and mouse. He had to stay ahead, to remain invisible.
He lowered the binoculars, taking a moment to scan the horizon. The Cornish countryside stretched out before him, a landscape of rolling hills and dense forests that had always been his sanctuary. It was a place where he could hide, where he could plan his next move without fear of prying eyes.
But now, with the police closing in, even this haven felt compromised. He knew he couldn't stay here forever, that he would have to move soon. But where? And how?
He tucked the binoculars into his coat and turned away from the scene, his mind racing with possibilities and plans. He had to be smart, to be patient. The game had changed, and he needed to adapt if he was going to survive.
As he walked away from the hill, blending into the shadows of the trees, he felt a sense of resolve settle over him. He had come too far to be caught now, there was too much at stake, and if he didn't protect it, they would make sure he slept in a shallow grave.
He would watch, wait, and if there were more loose ends or obstacles in his way, he would strike again. And this time, he would leave no trace.
CHAPTER TEN
Finn and Amelia returned to Helford police station, the deteriorating exterior of which was in stark contrast with their investigation’s urgency. Constable Mulberry awaited them, displaying his typical high spirits. The room they were given as a temporary office still struck Finn as antiquated. It was stark and barren; its walls decorated with an evidence board that was slowly being filled. Two laptops sat atop the aged desk, drawing attention for their modernity.
Mulberry stood up from his computer and walked over to Finn and Amelia.
Finn rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he glanced around the space. "Any luck finding out who our third victim is?" he questioned, facing Constable Mulberry.
Mulberry shook his head sadly in response. "No luck yet, unfortunately," he said with visible disappointment on his face. "It's like she just showed up one day."
"I wonder if she's different from the other two victims," Amelia said.
"Just what I was thinking," Finn agreed. "No one has flagged us for a missing daughter from a rich family estate or anything like that. It could be that she has a different background."
"Did you find anything out at the Keatings Estate?" Mulberry asked.
Finn exhaled, feeling the burden of their unanswered queries grow heavier. "We found something," he muttered, handing over his notes. "Wilson and Sons; a construction company that's currently working on fixing the castle. There's about 30 of them working the site, and if the woman were murdered nearby, one of them could be our guy. We have to find out if any of their employees have sketchy backgrounds, and I'd rather do that before speaking to the company. I don't know about in the UK, but back home, some construction companies have links to organized crime, and they might not cooperate with our inquiries"
"I'll take a look," Mulberry said, sitting back down.
He quickly typed away on one of the laptops, accessing the police database. They waited in silence as his search ran its course.
Eventually, Mulberry looked up with an expression of surprise. "I have something," he declared. "Terrance Feldman, a foreman at Wilson and Sons, has a criminal record. He spent five years in jail for attempted murder. He's on parole, so we have record of his current employment, which is with Wilson and Sons."
Amelia nodded. "Was the victim female?" she questioned assertively.
Mulberry scanned the details before responding affirmatively. "Yes, it happened about twenty years ago--a young woman he had been involved with. Quite a violent situation, by the looks of it. There was a knife..."
Finn exchanged a glance with Amelia, a shared recognition of the potential significance of this information. "We need to talk to this Feldman," he said decisively. "See if he can account for his movements last night."
Amelia nodded in agreement. "And we need to find out more about his past. If he's reverted to old habits, we could be looking at a pattern here, he might go on the run and hurt someone else."
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Finn cautioned. "But this is a lead we can't ignore."
Finn's phoned buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and looked at it.
"It's Rob," Finn said to Amelia.
"He must want an update," Amelia said.
"Finn," Rob said.
"Hey man," Finn replied. He could sense something in Rob's tone. "Is everything okay?"
"Not really," Rob said. "I received a phone call from a neighbor saying that someone had tried to break into the cottage at Great Amwell."
Finn felt worry building up inside. "Was Demi there yet?"
"No, thankfully," Rob said. "And the intruder ran off, but from what the neighbor described, it sounds like a professional break-in. The man was picking the locks."
Finn sighed, worried. "Where's Demi, now?"
"She's heading to the city center where she'll be staying with one of my officer friends," Rob responded, a note of relief in his tone. "He owns a small apartment and Demi will be safe there. I know it's not ideal, but it's the best we can do for now."
Finn knew that Rob was right. "Well, at least she's safe now," he said. "I'll need to call her later and make sure she's doing okay."
Rob shook his head. "She's pretty upset and just wants to get some sleep," he said. "We both know someone must have seen us leave or had knowledge about our plans for the weekend. Either way, it seems Demi's fears of someone interfering in your and her lives are real."
Finn felt a chill run through him as he processed Rob's words. He could tell that the other man was just as worried and unsettled.
"We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise," Rob said, seemingly trying to reassure both himself and Finn. "I want you to stay vigilant, but I'll make sure Demi is safe."
"Thank you, Rob. I really appreciate you looking out for her," Finn said with true gratitude in his voice.
Rob was never one that was great taking compliments. He quickly changed the topic. "So who are we looking at for the three deaths at St Martins Castle?"
"There's one guy working with a construction crew who is a possible suspect," Finn replied. "But we still haven't found out who the third victim was. We're going to track down the construction worker right now."
"Great," Rob said. "Keep me posted."
"Will do, thanks Rob."
The call ended. Amelia looked concerned.
"Is everything okay?" She asked.
"Yes," Finn said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Everything's fine."
Finn avoided the question of Demi, deciding it was best to take their investigation back into the field. "Let's go and question Terrance Feldman," he declared firmly, "we can get a better read on the situation if we visit that construction business in person. I want to look this guy in the eyes when we ask him where he was during the murders."
Amelia and Finn left the office, while above the November skies were darkening moment by moment into early evening.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Finn gripped the wheel, the rain pouring down the windscreen like a biblical flood.
"Where the hell did this come from?" he groaned.
"British weather," Amelia said, looking out of the window.
Finn glanced at her for a moment. She seemed in a daze again. Much like she had on the train into Cornwall. He was starting to suspect that something was eating away at her.
“There's something about Cornwall, isn't there? It's a special place,” Finn offered.
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