Page 68 of Worse Than Murder
‘I’ll see you later,’ Claire mouths as she dashes out of the station.
Alison listens and fakes interest for the caller asking why the tree lying across her front garden has yet to be removed.
* * *
High Chapel Police Station has never been a hustle-and-bustle station. There were never harassed-looking detectives with their sleeves rolled up bounding up and down corridors with a sense of urgency, screaming for an arrest warrant or an ETA on an armed response unit, but it has never been as quiet as it is right now with Alison Pemberton sitting on her own, feeling lost and useless. Even the phone has stopped ringing.
She stands up, goes over to one of the large windows, and looks out at the village through the slats of the Venetian blinds. Life is continuing as normal. The clean-up operation is well underway, and police officers are surplus to requirements at the moment. Returning to her desk, she takes a detour and passes that of Inspector Gillian Forsyth. She pauses and looks down at the neatly laid out paperwork. She reads the brief report of the operation yesterday detailing the location of a car at the bottom of the lake, the registration plate and the last known address of the owner, Travis Montgomery.
She looks around her, makes sure she’s still alone, pulls out Gill’s chair and sits down. She opens the folder and begins reading the contents. Travis’s last known address was her grandfather’s farm, now lived in by her mother and stepfather. There’s no forwarding address for him. Where has he been living since 1992? Where has his post been going? Alison frowns as she flicks through yellowing paper from thirty years ago, statements given by Travis, her father, her mother, and Uncle Iain, giving details of where they were around the time the twins disappeared. At the back of the file, she finds another statement given by her mother. Why had she given two? She goes back to the first.
Then she goes back to the second.
Both were signed by her mother. Alison recognises the signature.
She sits back, stunned by what she’s read. Her mother lied in her original statement, given on August 11, 1992, the day her sisters went missing. Five days later, she amended her statement, admitting she was having an affair, cheating on her husband, on Alison’s father, therefore giving Travis an alibi.
Alison feels sick. She knew her parents had problems. Her dad was depressed. He struggled to cope with day-to-day life. Sometimes it was an effort for him to get out of bed in the morning. She always imagined her mother as being strong and there for him whenever he needed her, but it turns out she had turned her back on him and was sleeping with a man ten years younger than her. How could she? How could she do that to her husband, to the family as a whole? She wonders if Iain knows.
Alison looks out into the reception area. The door’s closed and there’s nobody waiting to report anything. She acts quickly, just in case someone comes back unexpectedly, like Claire did to change her shoes. She runs to the photocopier to make copies and places the originals back in the file, hoping she’s put them back in the same place, then returns to her desk.
She sits in silence, her mind going over the past thirty years, trying to understand her own mother. Why had she had an affair? She knew the relationship between her parents would have been strained because of her dad’s mental illness, but imagine if he’d found out. Imagine how he would have reacted…
‘Oh my God!’ Alison says to herself. ‘He did. He found out. That’s why… Oh no, Dad, no, please don’t say… you didn’t kill them for revenge? No!’
She slumps onto her desk and cries.
Former Detective Sergeant Aaron Connolly left his role at South Yorkshire Police in 2019 following the shooting which killed so many of his colleagues. At the time, he was going through difficulties in his personal life. Married to Katrina, Aaron had had a brief affair with a woman connected to a murder investigation. Katrina agreed to give the marriage another go on the proviso Aaron left the force. He resigned straight away and they sold up and left Sheffield.
Unfortunately, the damage to their relationship had been done and Katrina could not get over the betrayal. They had been living in Birmingham for only three weeks before she told him the marriage was over. There was no going back. She moved out of their rented house that evening, returning temporarily to her parents’ home in Bradford. They only saw each other one more time and that was before a solicitor when the finer details of their divorce were finalised. Outside, on the pavement, they shook hands, said goodbye, and went in opposite directions.
Aaron took a job with SRUK and travelled the country whenever they were called out. He volunteered for all the unpopular shifts and worked weekends, bank holidays, Christmas and New Year. He was happy to give up the time people usually spent with loved ones to save him from being lonely. He soon rose up the ranks and was now director of the Birmingham branch of SRUK. There were two other sites in Glasgow and Devon with a fourth opening next year in Norfolk.
* * *
When I shout out Aaron’s name, he turns around, and his serious face lights up upon seeing an old friend. As he approaches, the smile falls. No words are spoken, but it’s obvious he’s heard about what happened. He takes me in his arms and his embrace feels good. Surprisingly, I feel as if I could stay with my head against his chest for the rest of the day. It’s comforting. When we eventually pull apart, I look up at him. He’s a clear head taller than me. My vision is blurred with tears, but I can see he also has tears in his eyes.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he says.
‘Thank you.’
He shakes his head. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I heard. Have you caught him?’
‘Not yet. It appears he’s gone to ground.’
‘What are you doing out here in the Lake District?’
I shrug and swallow my emotion. ‘Running away.’
His name is called. He turns back to see his team awaiting instructions.
‘Can you give me five minutes?’ he asks.
‘Sure.’
I watch as he runs back to his team who are suiting up in diving gear. He seems to be in his element as he takes control and issues orders. He’s put on weight since I last saw him, but on closer inspection I see that it’s muscle. There’s an air of freedom about him. He still has a demanding job. Now I think about it, searching underwater or in difficult to reach places could be stressful and challenging, even demoralising if they don’t get the outcome they want, but Aaron seems happy in his work. It’s evident in the camaraderie he has with his team, and the bounce in his walk.
‘Don’t you dive with them?’ I ask when he returns.
