The Red Dahlia (49 page)

‘Get on with it!’ Langton snapped.

Anna walked into the drawing room. ‘I am Wickenham. I get the opportunity to knock out the officer, so where do I go from here? Up the chimney? No, there’s no access, so I’m desperate to get to the door where you are standing.’

‘Jesus Christ, we’ve done all this, Anna!’

She pushed past them into the hall. ‘To the right is the kitchen full of officers, to the left the front door, with even more police outside. The cellar’s crawling with forensics, so, the only route he could have taken is the stairs. If he makes it to the stairs, he could maybe get to Mrs Hedges’s room; it’d take no more than a couple of seconds.’

‘But she was in there, and she swears…’

‘Whatever she swore could be a lie. What if he did make it there and she was able to hide him?’

Langton sighed. ‘Her room was searched minutes later, she was alone. This has all been checked out, Travis.’

‘I know, but it’s the only route he could have taken.’

‘He wasn’t in her bedroom: it was searched within seconds.’

‘So that leaves this area.’

Anna walked to the narrow servants’ stairwell. They all stood looking at the narrow staircase.

‘This is also the oldest part of the original house.’

Langton looked at Lewis.

‘Have these stair rods been moved?’

‘I don’t fucking know’

‘The carpet looks as if it has been.’

Anna went down on her hands and knees, she crawled up four stairs and then hurled aside a mound of sheets and towels. She sat back on her heels and pulled at the stair rod; it came away in her hand. Bending closer, she could see an opening no more than an inch in width.

‘I need some kind of jemmy to pull this open. Can you see the gap?’

‘Yeah I can see it, but it’s a sixteenth-century bloody staircase! Of course there’s gonna be gaps!’

‘This isn’t just a gap. Get the entire carpet pulled back.’

Lewis and Langton peeled back the old stair carpet. Anna worked her fingers inside the gap, and the stair board opened a fraction.

‘Jesus Christ, what is it?’

Anna reeled back as the stench hit her. Langton stepped in to help. The wooden slat slid sideways. She could see downward into a space no bigger than a coffin. ‘It’s possibly another priest hole that’s been covered by the stair carpet.’ Anna took out a handkerchief and covered her face.

Langton peered into the dark recess but could see nothing. He slipped his hand into the opening and recoiled. ‘Get a torch: there’s something wedged down there.’

Anna and Langton sat side by side on the lower stair as Lewis ran out to the car and returned with a torch.

Langton shone it into the recess. The beam of light lit up the face of Charles Wickenham, his mouth drawn back in a silent scream. His body was wedged inside the small space; his hands, still cuffed, had clawed at the stair to try and open it. The space was so small that his body pressed against the sides. Rigor mortis had made his body stiff, his fingers like claws.

Langton sat back in shock. Anna looked at the stack of sheet and towels. ‘These covered the air vent.’

In the kitchen, Justine moved away from the door. ‘They’ve found him,’ she whispered.

Neither Mrs Hedges nor Emily could say a word. Justine gave a soft laugh.

‘Saved us burying him. We didn’t know he was there, did we?’ She looked pointedly at Mrs Hedges. ‘No we didn’t! So just carry on as if we don’t know what is happening, nobody can prove anything. We just look out for each other.’

‘What if they find out what I did?’

‘They won’t, believe me; you didn’t know about it, full stop!’

Mrs Hedges started to cry. ‘But I did, I did; I knew.’

Justine gripped her tightly. ‘No you did not; you just put the things there because the laundry room couldn’t be used, right?’

Mrs Hedges wiped her eyes, and Justine gripped her tightly. ‘We’re here and nobody can do anything about it, just do as I told you, and you, Em. Emily!’

Emily was pouring milk onto her cornflakes, but the bowl was already full and the milk spilled over, dripping onto the table and onto the floor.

‘Emily! Look what you are doing!’

Justine snatched the bottle away from her sister and placed it back in the fridge. ‘Get a cloth and clear the mess up! Do it now!’

Emily just sat with her head bowed. ‘You said he was gone.’

Justine was finding it hard to contend with the weeping Mrs Hedges and now the anxious Emily She took a deep breath and put her arms around her sister. ‘Shush and look at me, Em. He is never coming back, I give you my word. I cross my heart.’

The wailing of an ambulance siren made even Justine physically jump.

Emily sprang up and ran to the door. ‘They’re coming for me!’

‘No, no! Just stay here with Mrs Hedges. For God’s sake, Mrs H, pull yourself together and look after Em. Let me go and see what’s going on.’

Justine went out of the kitchen and into the hall.

Langton intercepted her. ‘Please stay in the kitchen, Miss Wickenham.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘You’ll know soon enough; just go back into the kitchen.’

He signalled for Anna to take Justine back into the kitchen. Mrs Hedges was scrambling some eggs, allowing Emily to help her. They both turned as Justine gestured to Anna.

‘She’s going to sit here with us. Do you want some scrambled eggs? We like them runny with a lot of butter.’

‘No thank you, maybe a coffee.’

‘I’ll get it, black or white?’

‘White, no sugar.’

Anna sat at the big table; milk still dripped over one end. Justine busied herself wiping down the table. ‘What’s going on out there?’

‘We’re just checking something out.’

‘Was that an ambulance we just heard?’

Anna didn’t answer; voices were audible in the hallway. Justine banged down a cup of coffee and went to the door. Anna asked that she remain in the kitchen.

‘Why?’

‘Because I am asking you to.’

‘I’ve got to go and see to the horses; they need feeding and exercise.’

‘They can wait. I’ll let you know when you can go to them.’

‘You don’t understand, they don’t wait. They get their nosebags on, they have a morning walk, then they go back into the stables; after we’ve mucked out, we take them out for some exercise.’

‘There’re still two stable boys working there, aren’t there?’

‘Yes, but I have to oversee what they are doing.’

‘I’m sure they will do whatever is necessary.’

The two paramedics were kneeling down, trying to fathom out how they could lift the body out. Charles Wickenham’s head was tilted back, his mouth gaped open. In a few hours the rigor would slacken, which might make it easier to lift the body out. They had ropes to loop beneath his armpits, but the sides of the chamber were too tight.

Langton suggested they grab him by the head and pull him up. He said if the body got in, it had to be able to come out. The stench of decomposition was overpowering. Lewis stood well back. They had tried loosening the steps above and below, but they were made of concrete.

Lewis went into the kitchen to relieve Anna, who was sitting watching Emily and Mrs Hedges finish their eggs. He took Anna aside and they whispered. After a moment, she nodded and went to Justine.

‘Can I talk to you a second, in private?’

Justine shrugged. They stepped through the kitchen door and into the garden.

‘We think we may possibly have discovered the body of your father.’

‘No!’

‘Yes, I’m afraid so. Would you be prepared to identify him?’

‘Christ, why me?’

‘Well, surely it would be better to ask you than your sister.’

‘Well, where is he?’

‘If you agree?’

‘Yes, yes I’ll do it, but for Chrissakes, don’t let my sister know, or Mrs Hedges; she’s taking care of her. She’s still not right in the head, you know; she poured milk all over the table this morning.’

Anna suggested that they walk round the house and go back in via the front door to avoid questions from the kitchen.

By the time Anna and Justine entered the hall, the paramedics had managed to draw the body halfway out of the chamber. It had been quite a procedure: they had gripped hold of his hair and eased his head up, then slid a noose beneath his arms. They had managed only to get his body out up to his waist: his legs were stuck firmly. For decency’s sake, a sheet had been draped over him. As Justine entered the hall with Anna, she shrieked.

Langton held out his hand and drew her closer. ‘Can you please look at his face and identify him? I’m sorry to ask you to do this.’

Justine held onto Langton’s hand as he slowly removed the sheet. Justine stared for what seemed a very long time. ‘Why is his mouth open like that?’

‘We believe he suffocated; he was probably gasping for air.’

‘What was he doing down there?’

‘Hiding.’

‘Gosh, I didn’t even know this place was there. Is it another priest’s hidey-hole, do you think?’

‘Possibly. Is this Charles Wickenham?’

Justine stood up and cocked her head to the right and then to the left. It was so fast and so unexpected: she tried to kick her father’s head. ‘Yes, yes that’s him. The bastard.’

Anna and Langton had to drag her back into the kitchen while the paramedics hauled the body out and put it in a body bag.

Anna stood beside Justine as she said she had something to tell them.

‘They’ve just found Father; he was stuck in this hole by the stairs.’

Emily started to scream. Justine held her tightly. ‘He’s dead, Em, he’s dead; he can’t hurt you. It’s over, it’s all over now.’

Anna and Langton examined the chamber. It was hideously small, no larger than a stone coffin. The air vent, a wide strip at the top of the chamber where the wooded stair board covered it, was the exact place where all the sheets had been stacked.

‘Do you think it was just an accident someone covered the air vent, or was it done on purpose?’ she asked Langton.

‘I don’t know. If they knew it was there, maybe, but why didn’t he call out?’

‘If he knew the place was teeming with officers, he would have had to keep silent, then by the time we’d left, he maybe couldn’t. There’s hardly enough room in there even to move, and with no food or water…’

Langton shone his torch down into the chamber. They could see the scratches like claw marks on the wooded slat. ‘He tried to get out; maybe the mechanism had blocked. It slides back on a spring, and it’s pretty rusted.’

Anna shook her head. ‘I just can’t believe they didn’t even hear him scratching to get out. Especially Mrs Hedges: her room is directly above the stairs.’

‘Right now I don’t give a shit: we’ve got him and it’s a bloody relief to me, I don’t know about you.’

Mrs Hedges swore she had no idea there was anything beneath the stairs. She was very distressed, and when asked if she had heard any sound as the staircase was directly below her bedroom, she shook her head. ‘Even if I had, I wouldn’t have done anything about it. All the men working here were knocking and moving things. I didn’t hear anything. I had my TV on.’

She broke down in sobs. Langton went into her bedroom.

‘He was almost directly below this area,’ he said and moved the old rocking chair aside and tapped the floor with his foot. ‘If she did know that place existed, then if she had heard anything, she’d have surely gone to check it out. But if she didn’t, and no one else knew about it, not even the historical mob…’

Anna nodded and wondered if the girls knew about it.

‘They weren’t even here; they didn’t move in until days after he was missing. By that time, he’d have suffocated.’

Anna kept on looking around the room: she knew something was different, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. ‘Yeah, you’re right; let’s go and leave the forensic guys to do their job.’

Langton had already called McDonald. At first, he was irritated that he had been contacted and then very interested.

‘Shit, you mean they found another priest hole?’

‘Yeah, and our suspect was rammed into it!’

McDonald agreed he would come straight away with a couple of his team. In the meantime, they cordoned off the area as a crime scene.

The news spread like wildfire round the Incident Room. It lifted everyone’s spirits. Langton issued a press release saying they were not looking for any other suspects in the Red Dahlia case or for the murder of Sharon Bilkin: Charles Wickenham’s body had been discovered and foul play was not at this time being considered.

Should any evidence be discovered that more bodies had been mutilated and perhaps buried at Mayerling Hall, further enquiries would be launched. As it was, they now had enough evidence to announce that Charles Wickenham was their killer.

Closing the case was complicated and would take days: the thousands of statements and files were all to be boxed and listed. The trial of Edward Wickenham was still to come, but that would be many months down the line. He was still in custody at Brixton prison; his solicitors had applied for bail since the discovery of his father’s body.

Anna returned home at eight that evening. They had the next day off, the first for weeks on end it seemed. She showered and changed into clean clothes; she wanted to get her hair cut and styled; she wanted to feel cleansed. The Red Dahlia case had clung to her, but it was at long last over.

Chapter Twenty-One

DAY THIRTY-FOUR

Anna had an early appointment with her hairdresser, followed by a pedicure and manicure. She then hit Oxford Street; she bought four new outfits and two pairs of shoes. At home she had laid them all out on her bed, trying to choose which one she would wear to work.

It was strange, having a whole weekend off. She kept herself busy, washing, ironing and vacuuming; she even bought some fresh flowers for her flat. As she carried the vase into the lounge, she hovered, wondering where would be the best place; she decided to move an armchair and place them on a side table. She was moving the chair when she stopped in her tracks: that was what had been different about the bedroom. Mrs Hedges’s rocking chair had been moved so that it was directly above the chamber.