The Valley of Longing 31

‘You’re certain of that?’ Melissa nodded while trying to read the look on her superior’s face. ‘Yes, sir, very certain,’ she said. ‘At the time we received the call in which we heard someone - we still haven’t been able to confirm that it was Amy, though it’s extremely unlikely that it could have been anyone else - being attacked, Mr Wild was on the phone to his daughter. We’ve confirmed that both with his ex-wife and through his phone records, and before that his agent was at the house. If Amy was the one we heard being attacked, there’s no way Mr Wild could have been responsible. Not only that but I’ve been able to prove that the attack we heard must have been committed by the same person who attacked Lynne And Lily.’ ‘How’s that?’ Stevens wanted to know. ‘It took a while, but I was able to find out whose phone the call we heard the attack on came from,’ Melissa said. ‘It was Lynne’s. The Killer must have kept it for some reason, and Amy must have found it. Sergeant Mitchell has been so obsessed with proving that Mr Wild’s the murderer that he hasn’t even considered that someone else might be the killer. He never properly checked whether Kerwin Wright saw Lynne the night she disappeared; he never checked Kerwin’s car or anything, he just took Kerwin’s word for it that he hadn’t seen Lynne. ‘There’s More, Sir,’ Melissa said when she saw that the inspector was about to say something. ‘I think Mitchell may have been involved in two attempts on Mr Wild’s life…’ Steven’s face darkened when he heard that. He had sat back in his armchair while he listened calmly to what his constable had to say, but now he learned forward angrily. ‘Are you really trying to suggest that Mitchell Venter, a man I have known for almost as long aS you have lived, would have had anything to do with attempted murder? I’ll give you one chance to withdraw that claim, Melissa, before it has serious repercussions for your career. I know you are ambitious, as ambitious as anyone, but a claim like this could bring your career to an end.’ ‘I realise that, inspector,’ Melissa said, She went pale at the mention of serious repercussions for her career, but didn’t back down, now that she had made the decision to tell the inspector her suspicions, and what had led her to them, she was not prepared to back away from them just because they might harm her career. ’But I have good reason for what I’ve said, and I believe it can be proved if you want to check it. In fact, there’s worse even than him being involved with the two attempts on Mr Wild’s life…’ She hesitated for a long moment and then plunged on. ’Last night at the hospital, I witnessed Sergeant Mitchell try to kill Mr Wild. After we left the Wrights, we went down to speak to Mr Wild; Sergeant Mitchell got very angry and ended up with his hands around Mr Wild’s throat, trying to strangle him. It took me and a nurse to pull him off, and I needed a security guard to help me get him out of the room. If the nurse hadn’t arrived, I don’t think I would have been able to stop him killing Mr Wild.’ A lengthy silence fell over the living room as Stevens considered what he had been told. Without tears, he could not have looked more unhappy. ’Why are you here, Louise?’ he asked to give himself more time to think. ’This has nothing to do with you,’ he said, his words a harsher than he intended them to be. ‘I’m here to support Melissa,’ Louise answered, ’And to make sure you listen to what she has to say.’ She has no illusions about her lack of authority over Stevens, she could not compel him to do as she wished, but she did have a position of respect in the village that made it more likely that he would listen to Melissa if it was clear that she supported her. ’I think you should read the file Melissa has put together, she makes a good case for all she says.’ With a degree of reluctance, Stevens reached out to take the file. It took him some time to get through the pages, which were more detailed than anything he had been told or shown by Mitchell, and by the time he was finished he was far from happy. He was unhappy with his friend for claiming to have solved the case when it appeared that he had actually made it a whole lot worse, and he was unhappy with Melissa for making him aware of the situation. ‘You heard Cecil Wright threaten to harm Mr Wild if Venter didn’t deal with him and find his daughter, and then, when he was forced to release Mr Wild because of a lack of evidence, you heard Venter on the phone to Cecil Wright, telling him not to do what he was thinking of doing.’ When Melissa nodded, Stevens sighed heavily. ’Yet he hasn’t arrested him.’ ‘No, Sir,’ Melissa said with a shake of her head. “Mr Wild hasn’t filled an official complaint yet, either, but I think that’s probably just a matter of time.’ ‘If the attack was as serious as you say, I’d have to agree.’ Stevens shuffled the papers together. Okay, you’ll get what you want, I’ll call the chief inspector and request a detective to take over the case and look into your allegations. You’d better hope he or she agrees that Venter has a case to answer to, though; if the detective we get disagrees with you, I think you’ll have to give serious thought to finding a new career.’ Melissa was asleep, having been sent home to try and catch up on some of the rest that grief and circumstances had denied her during the night, when her phone rang, vibrating noisily on the bedside cabinet. She woke with a start, her hand groping for the phone before she even really knew what it was that had disturbed her. ‘Hello,’ she croaked once she had the phone to her ear. She remained where she was, with her face half - buried in the pillow, hoping that the phone call would be a quick one so she could go back to sleep - she could not remember when she had ever felt as tired as she did then. ‘Mel, it’s Paul,’ Heath identified himself. ’You’re needed at the station.’ ‘What for?’ Melissa asked, hoping that she sounded more with it than she felt. With the greatest of reluctance, she pushed herself up and into a position on the edge of the bed; looking down at herself, she saw that she was still dressed in her uniform. She must have been really tired, she thought, if she had gone straight to bed without getting undressed. ‘The Case has been handed over to a Detective Inspector, he’s here now, and he wants to see you,’ Heath told her. Blinking, Melissa sought out the radio alarm clock so she could see what the time was. It surprised her to see that it was not quite half past ten; she had thought that it would take longer than four hours for Stevens to explain everything to the chief Inspector and convince him to give them a detective - she hadn’t expected them to get a detective inspector - let alone for one to be found who could be spared, and for that detective to get to the village. The journey to the village from town would have taken an hour, which meant it had taken less than two and a half hours to get things organised, much quicker than she would have expected. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ Melissa hung up before her fellow constable could say anything more. She didn’t really want to go anywhere but back to sleep, for about twelve hours if she could manage it, but she could hardly ignore a summons from a detective inspector, especially when she was the reason for him being there, so she tiredly got to her feet. A little over half an hour after being woken, Melissa walked through the door into the station. ‘Where’s the DI?’ she asked as she screwed up the wrapper from the chocolate bar she had eaten on the way there and threw it in the bin. The chocolate had given her a bit of energy, but she still felt as though she needed about a jug of coffee if she was going to make it through what remained of the morning, let alone the rest of the day. ‘HE’S in Mitchell’s office,’ Heath said, ’He’s been waiting for you.’ ‘Thanks. What’s he like?’ Melissa asked. It was because of her that the inspector was there, but she couldn’t help feeling a significant amount of nerves, which slowed her pace to a crawl as she headed down the passage. Heath shrugged. ’He seems alright. I’ve barely met him, though, he’s been in the office practically since he got here,’ he said. ’He’s spoken to the inspector and to Mitchell, and he’s been reading the case file; mostly, though. I think he’s been waiting for you. Asking for you was just about the first thing he did after speaking to the inspector.’ Melissa nerves didn’t diminish with that news, if anything it made them worse, ’I guess I’d better go see what he wants.’ she said, pleased to note that her voice didn’t betray what she was feeling. ‘Come in,’ an unfamiliar voice called out from behind the closed door to Sergeant Mitchell’s office when she knocked. Melissa stopped the moment she was through the door. ’Constable James, reporting as ordered, sir,’ she told the man seated behind her superior’s desk. He appeared nice enough, as Heath had said, but she was beginning to appreciate just how deceptive that could be; someone she knew was a murderer, and a brutal one, yet there was nothing about any of them that made it easy to pick him out. ‘Good Morning, constable. I’m Detective Inspector Lemark, I’m now in charge of the investigation into the murders you’ve had here in Doring Draad,’ he said, rising to his feet so he could make his way around the desk and shake hands with Melissa, that done he gestured her to the visitor’s chair. Melissa studied the Detective as he first approached her and then returned to the other side of the desk; he was a fair bit taller than her at just about dead on few inches in height and slender, almost skinny, with close - cropped brown hair, Hazel eyes and the remains of a tan, None of what she saw, including the dark, casual - smart suit he wore, told her what she really wanted to know, namely whether he was a good detective who would solve the murders and deal with the question of whether Sergeant Mitchell was in any way connected with or guilty on the attempts on Jack’s life…. ‘I understand from your Inspector Stevens that you’re responsible for this,’ Lemark held up the wad of papers Stevens had given him. ’Is this true?’

THE VALLEY OF LONGING...

"These hills, to hurt me more,

That am hurt already enough,—

Having left the sea behind,

Having turned suddenly and left the shore

That I had loved beyond all words, even a song's words, to

convey,

And built me a house on upland acres,

Sweet with the pinxter, bright and rough

With the rusty blackbird long before the winter's done,

But smelling never of bayberry hot in the sun, Nor ever loud with the pounding of the long white breakers,— These hills, beneath the October moon, Sit in the valley white with mist Like islands in a quiet bay, Jut out from shore into the mist, Wooded with poplar dark as pine, Like points of land into a quiet bay.

(Just in the way The harbour met the bay) Stricken too sore for tears, I stand, remembering the Islands and the sea's lost sound— Life at its best no longer than the sand-peep's cry, And I two years, two years, Tilling an upland ground!