The Valley of Longing 25

Mitchell didn’t answer straight away, he didn’t want either Kerwin or Tara to hear what he had to say, instead he grabbed the younger man by the front of his T-shirt and pulled him out of the house. Heedless of the fact that his friend was bare - footed, Mitchell dragged him across the yard and into the shadows on the far side of it. When they were out of the moonlight, and far enough from the house to avoid drawing the attention of Cecil’s children, Mitchell spun him around and shoved him up against the side of the chicken coop. HE did so with enough force to rattle the coop and disturb the occupants, who squawked their protests noisily for about half a minute before settling down again. ‘Why’d you do it?’ Mitchell demanded over the noise from the chickens. ‘I told you not to do anything, why didn’t you listen to me?’ ‘What’re you talking about?’ Cecil wanted to know, his voice as sleep - filled as his eyes. ‘Don’t play games, Cecil, I’m not in the mood.’ Filled with anger over the situation he had been put in by someone who was supposed to be a friend, Mitchell shoved Cecil up against the chicken coop again, re-awakening the occupants. ‘I know you went down to Wild’s place after I told you I had to release him. I told you not to do anything, to leave him alone, but you went down there, and shot at him through the bloody living room window.’ ‘You’re damned right I did,’ Cecil said, matching the sergeant’s anger with his own. ‘I told you what I’d do if you let that sick sonofabitch go. You let him go; I had no CHOICE. That bastard took my Amy, and he’s almost certainly killed her - I can’t let him get away with that. Being shot’s nothing compared to what he deserves; he deserves a much more painful death than that, he deserves to be tortured, slowly, like the Spanish Inquisition used to do to people, or something.’ ‘Except he’s not dead,’ Mitchell snapped. ‘You come closer to killing the Lawyer than you did to killing him - she’s been taken to hospital in the Air Ambulance, that RED and WHITE helicopter, it’s just as well you didn’t manage to kill either one of them, just as well also that Louise is old and can’t move too quickly. She didn’t make it to the window in time to see you, so she’s got no clue who tried to kill Wild, which is good news for you and for me. If she had seen you, or had any clue whatsoever it was you, I’d have to arrest you.’ He looked far from happy at that thought. ‘As it is, I might still have to arrest you. If Wild or his lawyer saw anything that points to you. You’d better hope that when they wake up, they either saw nothing or they remember nothing, otherwise you’re looking at a lot of time in jail for attempted murder.’ ‘I don’t care, if you wanna arrest me, go ahead,’ Cecil told his friend. ‘I’ll tell the world what I did, I’m not ashamed; I’m glad I did it - I just wish I’d made sure I killed the sonofabitch; the world would be a better place without people like him in it.’ ‘Don’t be such an idiot.’ Mitchell had to bite his tongue to avoid snapping at his friend as he sought to get his temper under control. ‘Do you really think what you’ve done only affects you, that if you go to jail declaring yourself a martyr for justice, or whatever bollocks you choose to claim, that it will only make a difference to you. What about Kerwin? What about Amy - she might not be dead; I know you’re sure she is, but she might not be, and if she is still alive, she’s gonna need you when she’s found. Even if she is dead - Mitchell hated having to speak so bluntly, but knew it was necessary if he was going to get through to his friend - Kerwin and Tara still need you; Kerwin can’t manage the farm on his own, if you go to jail, you’ll lose the farm, and even if he could keep the farm going, he couldn’t manage it and Tara,. I doubt he’d be allowed to try, given he’s only seventeen. ‘Going to jail would cost you the farm and Tara, she’d either have to go and live with relatives or, more likely, be taken into care, is that what you want?’ ‘Not only that but I’d probably lose my job, since you told me what you were going to do, and I didn’t stop it,’ Mitchell thought, but didn’t add. Cecil seemed to deflate at the mention of his two, still definitely alive, children. ‘What do I do?’ he wanted to know. ‘Nothing, for now,’ Mitchell told him. ‘Just go about your life as if you did nothing, and pray that when they wake up, Wild and his lawyer either saw nothing or remember nothing.’ HE let go of the younger man’s T- shirt and was about to walk away when he thought of something. ‘There is one positive to be had from you shooting Wild - with him in hospital, there’s no way he can hurt any other girls, and by the time he’s ready to be released, we’ll have the evidence to put him away.’ ‘FAT LOT OF GOOD THAT DOES AMY.’ Cecil said. Melissa was oblivious to her grandmother’s presence, she had no idea her grandmother was there, despite her name being called repeatedly, until a hand landed on her shoulder. The touch shocked her out of her reverie so violently that she jumped visibly. ‘I’m sorry, Melissa,’ Louise apologised as she sank onto the pew next to her granddaughter. ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump. You didn’t seem to know I was here.’ ‘I didn’t,’ Melissa said with an apologetic smile. ‘I was lost in my little world. I started off in the café, and the next thing I knew, I was in here.’ ‘It must be serious, whatever it is that’s got you thinking so hard, I don’t normally see you in here.’ Louise meant it only as a general comment, but couldn’t help sounding faintly accusatory as she looked around the nearly empty church. ‘I don’t see many people in here during the week, and especially on a Monday morning; most folk seem to think they get enough church on a Sunday to last them through the week.’ As though sensing how embarrassed she was making Melissa, she switched subjects and asked, ‘So, what is it that has you so troubled that you’ve come to church to try and figure it out?’ Melissa’s eyes strayed from her grandmother to Pastor Wozniak, who was pottering around, doing his daily housekeeping chores. Louise grasped her granddaughter’s concern without Melissa needing to say anything; the Pastor was about twenty feet away, but the acoustics were such that when the church was as empty as it was then, a whisper could be heard from anywhere. If that wasn’t bad enough, Pastor Wozniak was a man who loved to gossip, and one who considered anything said outside of the confessional to be fair game for passing on to anyone who might have an interest in it. He dispensed good advice, but no-one went to him unless they were okay with everyone in the village to know within a few hours of them seeking advice. ‘Why don’t you come back to my place for a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake; you don’t have to go to work, do you?’ Melissa shook her head. ‘No, I don’t have to be at the station until later, I’m down for the afternoon shift; though I suppose that could change, with everything that’s happened. Still, nobody’s called to say they need me in this morning.’ She got to her feet and took her grandmother’s hand to help her up. It didn’t take long to get from the church to Louise’s house, and once there Melissa took a seat at the table in the kitchen, while her grandmother bustled about, making tea and setting out a plate of biscuits and cake. Melissa would have helped, even made the tea herself, but she knew better than to offer; despite being almost eighty, her grandmother was a proud and vigorous woman, who insisted on doing everything possible for herself, claiming that it was good for her to keep busy. Nothing much was said by either woman until the pot had been filled and set in the middle of the table; the cups were ready in front of each of them, and where was nothing else that needed doing right then, other than to let the tea stew for a short while. ‘So, what is it that has you so troubled that you’re lost in thought in the church first thing on a Monday morning?’ Louise asked of her granddaughter. ‘Something to do with recent events, I take it.’ ‘Yeah.’ Melissa nodded. ‘The murders, and the shooting next door last night, and - and everything; at first I didn’t think Mr Wild was the killer, he seems too nice, but now I’m not sure, and I think Sergeant Mitchell had something to do with the attack on Jack last night. Oh, I don’t mean he was the one doing the shooting or anything like that,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just that I think he knows who did it, and he knew it was going to happen before it did, and I think he knew Ollie was going to attack Mr Wild on Saturday.’ The words tumbled from her mouth with little coherency. ‘It’s all so complicated, and I don’t know what to think or do.’ Louise allowed Melissa to ramble on, getting her thoughts out in whatever order they occurred to her. Only when her granddaughter had finished did she speak. ‘ I can see why you’re so confused,’ she said as she took the cosy off the pot so she could pour them both a cup. ‘Why Don’t you start at the beginning, maybe if you talk it out one step at a time, things will start to make some sense, and you won’t feel so overwhelmed.’ ‘I don’t know where to begin; Mr Wild, or with Sergeant Mitchell, or with the murders, or something else. It’s all such a jumble up here.’ Melissa banged herself on the side of the head, as though doing so would knock her thoughts into some semblance of order and allow her to see things more clearly. When that didn’t work, she wrapped her hands around the mug her grandmother had filled with tea and sipped at in miserably. Louise patted her granddaughter’s arm sympathetically for a moment. ‘You’re thinking too much,’ she said. ‘Close your eyes. Don’t think, just speak - what’s the first thing that comes to mind?’ Melissa did as her grandmother said, though she felt more than a little stupid sitting at the table with her eyes closed. ‘Jack, Mr Wild,’ she said. ‘What is it about Mr Wild you have a problem with?’ Louise asked. ‘I don’t know really,’ Melissa admitted. ‘When I first met him, God, was it only a couple of days ago?’ She couldn’t quite believe that it was Monday, and just two days before, Lynne’s body had been found - so much had happened since then that she was convinced a week or more must have passed. ‘He seemed so charming, nice and funny, and normal; not at all the sort of guy who’d hurt anyone, let alone kill them. The more I find out about him, though, the more I wonder what to believe.’ No mater how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep the distress she was feeling from her voice, ‘I’ve read his personal file from when he was a detective, and I’ve spoken to him about things, but it’s just left me more confused. He’s been involved in violent incidents, and he’s been accused of attacking girls - he explained them, and the file I read explains them as well, and their either false or understandable, but last night he admitted that he kissed Amy. ‘She’s only sixteen and he kissed her!!’ she exploded. ‘How the hell could he do that? It’s sick and it’s wrong, and if he’s willing to do that, how much more is he willing to do. What if he is the one who Killed Lynne and Lily, and now Amy as well? I know you’ve heard what’s supposed to have been done to the girls before they were killed. What if he kissed them, or tried to, and wouldn’t stop once he got started.’ Louise had a few things to say on that subject - she was a little surprised and disappointed to find that Melissa was so closed - minded - but she chose not to voice them just then, instead she said, ‘Put all of that from your mind for the moment, don’t let it bother you. What’s the next thing that comes to mind?’ ‘Sergeant Mitchell,’ Melissa said, and before her grandmother could ask another question she went on. ‘He seems to be obsessed with Mr Wild, he’s absolutely certain Mr Wild is the one responsible for the murders, even though we don’t have a scrap of proof against him. We’ve got a pretty good idea of when yesterday evening Amy was kidnapped, and at the time Mr Wild was on the phone with his daughter, he couldn’t possibly have taken her, and if he didn’t kidnap Amy, the chances are he didn’t kill Lynne or Lily. Mitchell isn’t willing to accept that, though; he thinks we must be wrong about when Amy was kidnapped. I don’t think we can be, though,’ She shook her head. ‘From the moment he heard that Mr Wild was probably the last person to see Lily before she was killed, Mitchell’s been convinced that he’s the killer, and he’s not willing to consider the possibility that he’s wrong. ‘I was told' - even when talking with her grandmother she knew to be discreet, and didn’t say who had told her what she was about to say - that Kerwin Wright could be the killer, he’s apparently attacked Lily in the past. Mitchell didn’t want to know when I told him, though. He won’t even consider the possibility that someone else could be responsible for the murders. From the start, he’s only been interested in proving that it’s Mr Wild. And he’s gotten really angry both times he’s had to release him; the first time he immediately went and let Ollie out and told him that as far as he was concerned, Mr Wild was the killer, not Kerwin, and we both know what happened after that.’ Louise might have been getting on in years, but she was still in full possession of her faculties, and she quickly realised that it must have been Ollie who told Melissa about Kerwin Wright’s supposed attack on Lily. Briefly, she wondered what could have made Ollie say such a thing; like everyone else in the village who paid attention to what happened in and around Doring Draad, she was aware of the bad feeling that existed between Ollie and Kerwin. It took Melissa some time to finish unburdening herself of the things that were troubling her, and by the time she was done the pot was empty, the cake was gone, and there were only a few biscuits left on the plate. ‘Do you feel any better after getting all of that off your chest?’ Louise asked. Melissa nodded. She couldn’t speak just then because she was nibbling her way through another of her gran’s home - made cinnamon buns. ‘A little better,; she said once she could speak without being in danger of spraying crumbs all over the table. ‘But it hasn’t really changed anything, all of my problems are still there.’ ‘I realise that,’ Louise said, ‘But sometimes just telling someone a problem makes it easier to deal with. Now that you’ve told me what’s wrong. I want you to get a pad an pen and write everything down. I want you to write down everything that’s happened since the start of all this; put it all down, even if you don’t think it’s relevant, in the order it happened. By the time you’re done, you might just realise that you’ve got what you need to make a decision about what to do. ‘Before you do that, though. I want you to answer one question for me.’ Melissa looked at her grandmother curiously. ‘What’s that?’ she asked….