When she got home, Hannah opened her laptop and spent half an hour reading the Facebook page for Timmy’s Farm. She couldn’t help being impressed. It was packed with photographs showing the progress to date, a visual diary of just how busy Cassie and Alan Jones had been. What they’d achieved in just a few short months was amazing, and it was apparent that their home was ideally suited to the purpose they were working towards.
Being faced with the photographs of their son was, however, difficult for her. He was a smiling boy, face covered with freckles and a mass of red hair flopping into bright green eyes. He’d had everything to live for and should have had years of happiness ahead of him. Hannah fought back tears and the now familiar, unwelcome feeling of guilt which she still could not shake off. The decision of the coroner and the opinions of her family and friends all emphasized that her guilt was irrational but until she could remember the accident for herself, it would remain firmly lodged at the back of her mind.
But would she ever remember? Seeing Timothy, so vivacious and animated, it was difficult to believe that he was dead, and if she felt that way, then Hannah could only imagine the heartbreak his parents must be battling with each day.
Timothy’s love for animals was patently obvious; there were images of him with his chickens, apparently rescued battery hens, the pygmy goat called George and various other animals and birds. The Jones’s had certainly found a fitting project as a memorial to their son, and their hard work and dedication was evident in every photograph and post.
There were also accounts of others who had helped by donating money or by various practical means. Over ten thousand pounds had been raised by the pupils at Timothy’s school, through a sponsored walk, and they had pledged to hold at least one fundraising event each year to help the continuation of the work.
Hannah found all the accounts humbling and had no hesitation in turning to the ‘Just Giving’ page to make her own generous donation; she too felt the desire to support this amazing project which would be a living tribute to a remarkable young man. Seeing the photographs and reading the accounts not only inspired and humbled her, it gave pause for thought as to her own life since the accident. True, she had lost her leg, but not her life, her husband, but not her children. When dark moods and moments of self-pity crossed her mind, Hannah vowed to think of Timothy and his parents and be grateful for the blessings she still had.
CHAPTER 24
DS Ted Armstrong was a tall, wiry man, about forty years old and almost completely bald. He arrived late morning on the day after his telephone call, alone, which surprised Joe, and with an easy, almost languid manner, he began to prise out the information he wanted.
Joe had asked Phil and Helen to be with him at the interview, as the sergeant would almost certainly want to speak to them and hear of their involvement in recent events, and being Saturday, it was no problem for them both to be there. He appreciated the moral support, too. When he broke the news that David was dead they were understandably shocked, and Joe was concerned that he may somehow have landed his friends in trouble by involving them in his plans.
Helen made coffee and after the detective once again offered his condolences, they sat in the lounge, awkwardly taking the measure of each other.
‘Mr Parker,’ DS Armstrong began, ‘from what you told me on the telephone yesterday, your brother attempted to kill you a few days ago, yet you decided not to report this to the police. Can you tell me why?’
Joe had tried to explain on the phone, but now he supposed he must go over all the details again.
‘Yes, I’ve no doubt that it was an attempt to kill me, but David was still my brother and whatever he’d done, I couldn’t bring myself to report it and possibly see him sent to prison.’
‘And with your neighbours here you hatched a plan to teach him a lesson?’
‘You could say that, but it was entirely my doing. Phil and Helen agreed to go along with it but only after they tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade me to tell the police.’ Joe wondered what charges the police could bring against him; surely there’d be something.
‘And your brother and his wife just left after learning that you were still alive?’
‘Yes, I assumed they were going home, as it appears they did.’
‘When you saw your brother in the car when he drove it into you, was he alone?’ Armstrong asked.
‘Yes, as far as I could see, but it all happened very quickly.’
‘So as far as you know his wife wasn’t with him that day?’
‘That’s right, but I’ve no doubt she was part of his plan, if not the instigator of it.’
DS Armstrong turned his attention to Phil. ‘And you, Mr Roper, did you witness Mr Parker’s brother’s attempt on his life?’
‘Well no, but Liffey came to fetch us, that’s the first we knew about it, when we found Joe in the ditch down by the meadow.’
‘And this Liffey is?’ The sergeant looked puzzled.
‘The dog.’
Armstrong glanced over at Liffey who was snoring gently in the corner of the room. ‘Right, the dog. So when the dog took you to the scene what happened next?’
‘I took Joe to the hospital but he didn’t want to go to the police.’
Joe was becoming a little frustrated with the questions and wanted a few of his own answering. ‘DS Armstrong, unless you intend to charge me with failing to report a crime, I don’t see where your questions are leading. So far you’ve told me very little about what happened and I’d like to know exactly how my brother died.’
The detective shifted his weight in the chair and nodded. ‘Right, of course, but I’m afraid it’s not pleasant.’
‘Death seldom is, my wife died five months ago and now my brother, and I’m feeling as if I’m under suspicion here.’ Joe was feeling bolder; he’d done nothing wrong and wanted to know what was going on.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mr Parker, and I apologise if you feel that way. I assure you that you’re in no way under suspicion. Your brother died from stab wounds, several punctures in what must have been quite a frenzied attack. If it’s any consolation, death would have been very quick; most of the wounds appear to have been inflicted post mortem.’
Helen gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Phil wrapped a comforting arm around her, a frown on his face.
Joe felt sick. His brother might have done some terrible things but he didn’t deserve this. Pam must be completely mad.
‘And it was Pam who killed him?’ Joe asked.
‘We’ve arrested Mrs Parker on suspicion of murder. There was a call from a concerned neighbour about noise from their flat and when our officers arrived they found your brother. Mrs Parker was soon picked up and there is evidence which ties her in to the incident.’
‘So why all the questions about David’s attempt to run me over?’
‘Well, if you wish to press charges, obviously not against your brother, but against Pamela Parker, we can add that charge to the one of murder.’
‘What, conspiracy?’
‘Yes, something like that.’
‘But surely that would be virtually impossible to prove, especially now that David’s dead?’
‘That’s certainly true, but it’s a matter of building up the pressure on our suspect. If she feels there are other charges in the offing, she may come clean about the murder.’
‘What, you mean the woman’s trying to say she didn’t do it?’ Joe was astounded.
‘Exactly.’
‘Bloody hell, she must be insane!’
‘And I think that’s probably going to be her line of defence.’ It was the most forthcoming thing Armstrong had said, and he reluctantly agreed to leave Joe to think about pressing charges. ‘We’ll keep you informed as to how the case is progressing, Mr Parker, and if you’d like to discuss anything with me this is my direct line.’ He handed Joe a card and left, uttering more condolences.