A Body in the Lakes by Graham Smith (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

‘We think Felicia Evans was killed to set up the mayor. The sexual assault was done post-mortem to make it appear as if she was killed by the same person as killed the other three women.’

‘Hang on, how did he link the three other murders when the investigating officers didn’t?’

‘He didn’t have to link them. One of them was from Carlisle. Harriet Quantrell’s murder would be on the news and in the papers. I know we have no proof, but if he’d heard about her murder, there’s no saying he didn’t take inspiration from it when trying to frame the mayor. That’s why the mayor’s credit card was left by her body; to incriminate him.’

‘And your point is?’

‘Felicia was murdered a few weeks before cancer would have killed her. The odds of someone being murdered in Cumbria are very low, that’s a given. But, it happened to her. I told you earlier that I think she was deliberately chosen as a victim because she had terminal cancer, because she lived alone, because she wasn’t a social person. The person trying to get the mayor into trouble probably rationalised to him or herself that killing someone who was dying was less of a crime. They may even have told themselves they were doing Felicia a favour euthanising her the way a vet puts animals to sleep.’

O’Dowd nodded and flicked ash from her cigarette.

‘Felicia Evans wasn’t a friendly woman; she’d didn’t engage in any of the gossip that’s a normal part of rural life. None of her neighbours knew anything about her. They didn’t know about her family, her interests or her likes. None of the people I spoke to knew of anyone who’d exchanged a more personal comment than “good morning” or “nice day” with her.’

O’Dowd dropped her cigarette butt down a road drain. ‘What are you getting at, Beth?’

‘Not many people would know she was close to death. But if we work on the theory her killer selected her because they knew she was dying, we should be looking at the people who knew about her cancer.’ Beth pointed at Forster’s house. ‘Look at the progression, ma’am. First the chief constable received an anonymous letter, but when that wasn’t opened for almost a fortnight, then someone killed a dying woman and tried to frame the mayor again, by somehow stealing his credit card and leaving it beside Felicia’s body.’

‘Then when we arrested Forster and found all that child abuse on his computer, it didn’t stack up because the guys at Digital Forensics worked out it had been planted, but someone had put it there for a reason. When that didn’t work, he tossed a brick and then a petrol bomb through the mayor’s window to kill him.’

Beth was pleased O’Dowd had taken control of the conversation as it meant they were passengers on the same train.

Beth had a thought and she wasn’t pleased with it. ‘You know what? I think that now the mayor is dead, whoever is behind it will go back to their normal life. They’ve achieved their aims. Maybe they wanted to ruin the mayor rather than kill him, but they were swept up by events and ended up killing him. Whichever it is, they’ve no reason to continue now that Forster’s dead. I think that if we trace everyone who knew about Felicia having cancer we’ll be able to find the person who killed her and the mayor.’

‘I’d like to think you’re right. However, we don’t know the killer’s motive. Forster may have just been the first person on his shit list. Find out everyone who might have known about her cancer and check them out.’

Seventy-Five

Beth was in the Oncology ward of Cumberland Infirmary waiting for Felicia’s doctor and the head of the Administration department. As it was only a mile or so away from the mayor’s house, it was the logical place to start.

In the absence of friends and family who’d know about Felicia’s cancer, she’d come to the hospital. While patient files were confidential, there would always be some leakage of information and it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that the killer was someone who worked at the hospital.

Beth recognised the doctor when he came into the room. He was a genial enough fellow for someone who dealt with death on a regular basis. The same could not be said for the head of administration.

She was mid-fifties and wore her job title as if it was a crown. Her spectacles rested on the tip of her nose and she had her head tilted back to see through them. Everything about the woman told Beth that she’d have a tough job getting any kind of help from her.

‘Hello again.’ The doctor offered a hand which Beth shook. ‘This is Ms Chisholm.’

Ms Chisholm folded her arms when Beth put out her hand.

‘I’m sorry to trouble you again.’ Beth was doing her best to be placatory, but Ms Chisholm’s attitude was making her want to threaten the woman with an Obstruction of Justice charge. ‘I’m afraid that I need to talk to you about Felicia Evans again.’ She looked around the ward. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk in private?’

When they’d each taken a seat in the small chapel at the end of the Oncology ward, Beth explained why she was there.

‘That is a ridiculous accusation.’ Ms Chisholm’s mouth puckered into a tight knot that reminded Beth of a cat’s backside. ‘I can assure you that not one of my staff would ever do such a thing. To even suggest it is deplorable.’

Beth took care to keep her anger out of her voice. She’d been expecting that kind of response from the older woman. ‘I hear what you’re saying, Ms Chisholm. But I have to ask you a few questions. How many staff do you have on the Oncology team? Are they all permanent, or are some of them temps? How many of them have