Chapter 8
Ah here we go; DI Peters thought to himself as the man came into view and seemed to walk casually right up to the front door of Mrs. Baxter’s house. What are you up to? DI Peters then thought as the man looked around sheepishly as if trying to see whether the coast was clear or not. Breaking and entering in broad daylight? He then asked rhetorically as the subject of his request could neither hear him nor reply, and it wasn’t as if there was anyone else in the car who could answer the question anyway.
The man then seemed to fumble around in his pockets for a couple of minutes as if he were looking for something, then his pulled something out of his pocket and raised his arm to where the lock would have been. Oh so you have a key do you? DI Peters asked as the man turned his hand a little to one side. He then pushed the door inwards and soon disappeared into the house, closing the door behind him.
So you’ve finally had the courage to burgle the place then? DI Peters only wished that he were able ask these questions of the man in person instead of musing to himself. He then wondered whether he could legitimately go up there, knock on the door and question the man about the whereabouts of Mrs. Baxter. And while DI Peters that he probably could he also considered that it might be better to sit back for a while and keep the house under surveillance for a while. After it wasn’t as if Mrs. Baxter was still there and going in ‘two footed’ may either make things worse or blow the whole thing.
No in this case patience would be the order of the day and DI Peters had learned to be as patient as the next man, even more so at times. He would sit there all day if need be and wait for the perfect moment to make his move. That would give him the opportunity to see where things were going and the chance to gather as much evidence as possible before acting.
DI Peters didn’t have to wait long as no more than half an hour later a car pulled up outside the house. It was the same car that had pulled up there a few hours before and that he had learned had belonged to a man called Bryce Howard. What looked like the same man as before, who he presumed to be this Bryce Howard, got out of the car and rang the doorbell of the house. Now we’ll see what's going on, DI Peters thought as the door opened slowly inwards.
Hang on, what's this? DI Peters thought to himself as a woman’s head popped around the now open door. She was, as far as he could tell from this distance, the same height and build as Mrs. Baxter. The woman who had opened the door also had shoulder length straight hair that was a dark as obsidian and DI Peters wondered whether she had brown eyes as well, but he couldn’t quite see from this distance. Her ruby red lips were in stark contrast to her dark hair and white skin, but there was also a familiar look to her.
So you’ve turned up then? DI Peters asked to no one in particular as he looked at a photo of Mrs. Baxter that he had taken from the file and was surprised at the remarkable similarity between the woman at the door and the woman in the photo. At this distance it looked to DI Peters as the two women could either be the same person or very identical twin sisters. He would have to get a closer look at the woman to be sure, but he was almost convinced that it had to be Mrs. Baxter at the door.
However, that wouldn’t really have made sense since as far as DI Peters was concerned she hadn't been seen for just over two years and as far as he could tell the house was empty when he had arrived. Since he had been here he had seen no one else enter or leave the house other than the man who had let himself in a good half an hour ago. By the time DI Peters had considered all of this the woman had let the man, who he was all bit convinced had to be this Bryce Howard, and had now closed the door behind them.
The blinds on the downstairs front window were still drawn and he would have given almost anything to have been able to see what was going on behind them. Was there some kind of suburban ménage à trois going on between, what he presumed to be, the three current occupants of the house? Or was there some other arrangement or conspiracy between them? Or even was Mrs. Baxter now being held against her will in her own home and forced to do things that weren’t in her best interests?
These and other even darker and more sinister possibilities swam through DI Peters mind like shoals of piranha eating away at the control that prevented him from charging in there now and breaking the door down. While DI Peters felt that he would be justified in going confronting the three of them now, he also realized that he didn’t have anything even remotely solid to base his suspicions on. In fact this could be a perfectly innocent meeting of three consenting adults taking part in nothing more minacious than good old fashioned afternoon tea.
Not much more than ten minutes later the front door opened and Bryce Howard exited the house. He and the woman who DI Peters suspected was Mrs. Baxter calmly exchanged a few words and then shook hands. As far as DI Peters could tell from this distance they seemed to be on good terms and Mrs. Baxter certainly didn’t seem to have obvious physical injuries. Bryce Howard then got in his car and departed, looking to be in no particular hurry whatsoever. Mrs. Baxter, as calm as you like, looked around a couple of times and then went back into the house closing the door behind her.
Right I’ll give it five minutes then I'm going to see what's going on here, DI Peters said to himself as he looked at his watch and saw that it was almost 4pm. That way he thought that it would give Mrs. Baxter and this mystery man a chance to relax just enough after whatever it was that had occurred between the three of them, including Bryce Howard who had just left, but enough time to hide incriminate evidence or to get their stories straight.
At almost exactly five minutes past four, DI Peters got out of his car and strode confidently towards the house, minding the traffic as he crossed the road. When he reached the door DI Peters took a couple of minutes to compose himself and to get his warrant card out of his jacket pocket. He then rang the doorbell and waited a minute or two, and when then there was no answer he rang it again. This time he waited a little bit longer before trying the doorbell again and as he did so he tried to peer around to the front downstairs window.
The blinds were still drawn and there was no sign of movement. He then arched his back so he could at least try to see if there was sign of life from the upstairs window, but he couldn’t really see anything from where he was standing. He then tried the doorbell again and peered through the letterbox. “Open up, it's the police,” he called through it when he couldn’t see any sign of movement and his patience was now starting to wear a little thin. Moreover he was starting to think that just maybe something had happened to Mrs. Baxter between the time she had gone back into the house and now.
“Hang on, hang on,” came a soft voice that DI Peters couldn’t quite pin down as the gender or age of its owner. “I'm coming, I'm coming,” it then said again a form, roughly the same height and build as Mrs. Barter appeared behind the glass door, but it was so obscured that DI Peters couldn’t tell anything else by it.
“Sorry I was just,” the voice said when the door opened and what appeared to be a young man was revealed to DI Peters. The man stopped shirt in his sentence when he saw the policeman’s warrant card and to DI Peters he appeared to be anywhere between late teens or mid-twenties in age, but definitely looked like the man who had entered the house earlier. “What do you want?” He then asked nervously when he’d had a chance to take in the warrant card.
“Sorry to disturb you sir,” DI Peters said in his best polite but authoritative voice that he always used in these circumstances, “but I’d like to speak to Mrs. Baxter.” DI Peters then smiled graciously at the man as if he were doing him a service.
“I'm sorry but who are you?” The man’s eyes flicked nervously between the warrant card and DI Peters’ face as if he were trying to work out what the policeman wanted with him and how he could talk his way out of it. DI Peters definitely thought that the man was hiding something and that he was trying to buy time so that he could think of plausible yarn to spin the officer.
“Oh I'
m sorry sir, my name is DI Peters of CID I’d like to speak with Mrs. Baxter,” he then said introducing himself and repeating his request in the same tone of voice.
“Can I help at all?” The man asked, seemingly avoiding the issue.
“Well I need to speak to owner sir,” he then added trying not to let growing impatience show. “I believe that’s a Mrs. Emily Baxter and that she is in, sir,” DI Peters then added and there was definite shadiness about the man who was standing in front of him.
“Well she’s not here,” he said in what seemed like a furtive tone to DI Peters, who was growing in confidence that he was on to something here.
“Are you sure sir?” He then asked not wanting to give away the fact that he had been watching the house for most of the afternoon. “Maybe if I could come in sir,” he then added and started to move forward.
“Yes I'm sure,” the added backing away from DI Peters and trying to close the door. “I’d rather you didn’t as the place is a bit messy,” he then added making up the excuse on the spot.
“Oh I'm sure I've seen worse sir,” DI Peters said inching his way closer to the man. “And besides sir it would put my mind at ease, you see Mrs. Baxter hasn’t been seen for two years,” he said now with his foot virtually in the door.
“Oh, oh ok then,” the man said nervously as he eyes darted down to the ground in a distinctively guilty fashion, but he relented and showed the policeman in to the hall.
“And you are sir?” DI Peters asked in a politely enquiring tone.
“Harry, Harry Wright,“ Harry lied, but he had been telling people that was his name now for so long now that he virtually believed it be true as well.
“And you live here sir?” DI Peters asked as a matter of course as he practically knew that the man couldn’t have been living there.
“Oh no,” Harry said as he didn’t think there was any point in trying to lie about his accommodation. “I'm in Manchester at the moment,” he then added trying it stave off DI Peters’ next obvious question.
“Oh I see,” DI Peters said, feeling more and more certain in his suspicions with every passing moment. “May I ask what you're doing here today?” He then asked and had apparently taken Harry by surprise with the question.
“Oh I'm,” Harry then paused wondering whether he should in fact tell the truth. “Oh I'm getting the place ready to be rented out,” he then added deciding that honesty was the best policy.
“And you have the owner’s permission to do so?” DI Peters asked suspiciously. Now we’re getting somewhere, DI Peters thought as he maneuvered Harry into a corner he wouldn’t be able to wriggle out of.
“Mrs. Baxter?” Harry asked before pausing while he wondered whether this policeman would go for it or not. “Oh yes of course I do,” the then added truthfully.
“In the absence of Mrs. Baxter do you have proof of this?” The DI then asked not giving Harry any breathing space. “When did you last speak to her?” He then added remembering why he was here in the first place. By how Harry had led DI Peters into the living room and while the furniture still seemed to be where it should there was something obviously missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
“We haven’t spoken in a while,” Harry said with a wry smile. If only you knew the truth, he then added to himself as he tried to think of what he could offer DI Peters as way of proof.
“But you don’t know when?” DI Peters said as he gazed around the room, still not able to work out what was the problem was, but he was certain it would eventually come to him.
Things often happened that, that odd bit of information or detail that sticks in the back of your mind like a bit of food stuck between your teeth. No matter how much you try and dislodge it with your tongue, you just can’t seem to move it. Then late one night it just moves by itself and the niggling piece of information or that detail you can’t quite place suddenly comes into sharp focus.
“What's upstairs?” DI Peters then asked.
“A couple of bedrooms and an attic,” Harry said innocently.
“Can I see them?” DI Peters asked and Harry shrugged his shoulders as he led the DI upstairs. He then showed the policeman the master bedroom and the spare room, neither of which seemed to be particularly out of the ordinary. They both had a bare bed, and when DI Peters looked through the draws and the wardrobes that were found there, they were all empty. There was no sign of any kind of a struggle or even a droplet of blood that someone had forgotten to clean up. Just very ordinary rooms all ready and waiting for someone to rent them out, but DI Peters was now starting to get an inkling of what it was that was bothering him.
“What about the attic? DI Peters then asked as he came out of the spare room and Harry had started to head back downstairs.
“Oh I don’t have a key for that room,” he said jiggling the keys in his pocket nervously. “Emily, I mean Mrs. Baxter asked not to touch that room,” he then added avoiding eye contact with the DI.
“Hmmm,” was that DI Peters could manage as he sniffed the air and detecting a very feminine perfume. The smell seemed to be mixed in with something, but it was there nonetheless. “Are you sure that Mrs. Baxter isn’t here?” He asked and couldn’t help but notice Harry shuffling a bit on the spot and he had the feeling the other man was avoiding eye contact. Yes he’s definitely hiding something, DI Peters thought to himself.
“No, no she’s been on holiday and then travelling with friends,” Harry said hoping that DI Peters would buy the same lie that he had told his landlord.
“Where? Who are these friends?” DI Peters then asked moving in closer to Harry in order to intimidate him. At the same time Harry moved backwards until his back was literally up against the wall and he could move no further.
“I don’t know,” Harry said, knowing that he had taken that lie as it would go and that he hadn't been prepared to be challenged about it. “All I know is that Mrs. Baxter some time ago asked me to rent her house out as she would be away longer than she had planned,” he then added feigning any knowledge of Mrs. Baxter’s whereabouts.
“Are you sure you don’t know anything more?” DI Peters asked backing away a little from Harry to make him feel more at ease.
“Yes, that’s all I know,” he said, but couldn’t see his eyes twitch to the left as if he were still hiding something. Well that’s all I'm prepared to tell you, Harry said to himself more confident that than he had managed in saying to DI Peters.
“You know,” DI Peters started to say as he remembered the scent of perfume in the air, “my wife is huge fan of French perfume and she has the exact same fragrance I can smell now.” As he said this in a very accusatory tone of voice his piercing eyes bore right into Harry’s forehead. Harry then sniffed the air himself and was he too could now sell the distinctly feminine fragrance and had to think fast on his feet in order to come up with a plausible explanation.
“Look I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I stayed here last night,” Harry said relived that an idea came to him just in time. “I met a woman in a bar last night and, well you know,” he said winking at the DI as if he should know what Harry was talking about.
“Oh well, does Mrs. Baxter know?” DI Peters asked maintaining the implication that Harry had been caught out in some wrong doing.
“No,” he said smiling guiltily for a brief moment.
“I don’t think any harm is done,” DI Peters said, “if it was just the once and won't happen again.” As DI Peters said this Harry breathed a sigh of relief as if that was what he had been hiding all along and was relieved that it was now out in the open.
“No, no, it won't happen again,” Harry said and the relief in his was obvious to DI Peters, but he still thought that Harry was hiding something and that it would be better that he believed he had gotten away with it. DI Peters could then work away in the background with this new information he had just gotten and would find out all he could abou
t Harry Wright.