Page 95 of Worse Than Murder
‘Then why didn’t he turn the gun on you?’ Gill asks. ‘You said it was you holding the gun, that the intruder snatched it from you and pushed you to the ground. Why didn’t he try to shoot you then? He had the perfect opportunity.’
I think about that. I go through the incident in my head. Gill’s right. Philip didn’t shout out or anything. The intruder wasn’t aware Philip was even there until he turned around and saw him blocking his escape. He could easily have shot me. So, why didn’t he?
Gill takes a sip of her tea. ‘Matilda, is it possible this could be about the Meagan family? Those who kidnapped Carl in 2015, could they be back to silence him?’
‘I don’t know. Carl wasn’t able to give us a definite description of them when they took him. Years had passed from when he was kidnapped to when he returned. He’d been through a lot. It’s understandable he couldn’t describe them. The couple in Sweden bought Carl from a man and a woman. The woman has since been arrested. She turned out to be part of a huge illegal adoption scheme based in Germany. She refused to say anything and accepted the life sentence. She hasn’t helped the police at all.’
‘Let’s say itisthe kidnappers, coming back to silence Carl, why would they do that?’ Gill asks. ‘They’ve no way of knowing if Carl would even remember them.’
‘Maybe their paths have crossed, somehow. One of the kidnappers could have seen Carl here in the Lake District, or elsewhere, and followed him home. When Carl first disappeared, it was a huge news story.’
‘I remember.’
‘If the kidnappers were ever found, they’d be arrested for not only kidnapping, but for murder, too. They killed Annabel, Carl’s grandmother. They’d do anything they could to avoid being caught.’
‘Including killing him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jesus. It could be anyone, couldn’t it?’
‘All we know is that two men kidnapped Carl. We don’t know anything about age, height, skin colour, accent, nothing. He could live in High Chapel, or the surrounding area, or maybe he was passing through and saw Carl from a distance. Or maybe he saw an advertisement for Nature’s Diner and put two and two together.’ I close my eyes as a wave of pain shoots through my head.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. I think the pain relief might be starting to wear off.’
‘Do you want me to get you anything?’
‘No. I’ve got some Ibuprofen in my room.’
‘You shouldn’t be here on your own, not after a head injury. Would you like me to stay?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Why do I get the feeling that’s your answer to every question?’
I look over to her and snort a laugh. ‘Because it is.’
‘No woman is an island, Matilda.’
There’s a knock on the door. Gill looks up. ‘Yes, Stokes, what is it?’
‘This envelope was on the mat. It’s addressed to Matilda Darke.’
I take the plain white envelope from him. All it has on the front is my name. Nothing else. ‘It’s been hand-delivered.’ I tear it open and pull out a single sheet of A4 paper. It’s old, yellowed with age. I cast my eyes left to right, from top to bottom, my mouth wide as I take in the contents.
‘What is it?’ Gill asks.
‘I don’t believe this.’
‘What?’
‘This is Travis Montgomery’s statement from 1992 when he reported his car missing.’
‘What?’ Gill asks, incredulously. ‘But it wasn’t reported missing.’
‘It clearly was. This is a typed statement taken by Inspector Lionel Bell and signed by Travis Montgomery in which he claims the car was stolen from outside the farmhouse.’
