Butterfly Grave (Murder Notebooks) (23 page)

Susie looked more closely at Rose.

‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’

‘I’m Joshua’s . . . I was at Joshua Johnson’s house when you called last Friday.’

‘Oh.’

‘Is there somewhere we could talk?’

‘I’m at work now.’

‘Later. Tea break or something?’

‘I’m sorry but I don’t know you . . .’

‘I wanted to ask you why you went up to Cullercoats on the night that Stuart Johnson fell.’

‘What?’

‘Someone saw you. About eleven thirty?’

Rose stared at her. Susie looked as if she didn’t know whether to get angry or upset.

‘How is Stuart?’

‘Ok, I think.’

‘Maybe I could slip out, get my friend to cover for me. Fifteen minutes? There are some benches in the car park.’

‘OK.’

Rose found the benches. She sat down and got her phone out and saw that she had a message.
We’re at the hostel in Gateshead. George Dudek is out!!!! We’re going to wait for him for an hour then give up. See you about two-ish?

Would the homeless man have any information for them or would it be another dead end? Could it just be as Bob was hinting at the other night, a random robbery and murder?

Greg Tyler appeared with Susie.

She must have called him the moment Rose left the pharmacy. They were walking across the car park towards her. When they got to her Rose didn’t speak. She just looked from one to the other. Susie sat down on the bench but Greg stayed standing.

‘You don’t have to say a word to this girl,’ Greg said to his wife.

Susie shrugged. ‘We haven’t done anything wrong.’

Rose noticed that she’d taken her badge off.

‘Are you pregnant?’

Susie nodded. Rose waited. A question hung in the air between them.

‘It’s Stuart’s baby.’

‘For God’s sake!’ Greg hissed, looking round. ‘Don’t tell all our business out here in the car park! Come and sit in the car at least.’

Rose followed them until they got to a black car.

‘You get in the back,’ Greg said, hooking his thumb at Rose.

Rose got in, stifling a response. It was as if she was the one being questioned, not the other way round. Susie turned her face to Rose between the two front seats. Greg stared straight ahead.

‘Greg and me can’t have kids. I told you that last week. That’s why things went bad between us and I ended up having the affair with Stuart. But that’s in the past . . .’

Greg’s hand reached across to Susie.

‘I found out I was pregnant and I ended it with Stuart and I stupidly told him about the baby. He was adamant that we should stay together. He became really angry. That’s why Greg and him had a fight here in the car park. I told him I was going to have the baby and that Greg and me would bring it up as our own but he didn’t want that. He said he would take me to court and try to get joint custody. It was a mess!’

Susie was agitated. Her voice was cracking.

‘Don’t, Suse . . .’

‘You tell her then! You know more about it than me!’

Greg turned round. He didn’t make eye contact with Rose but looked down at the side of his seat, rubbing the fabric.

‘I told him to keep away from Susie. I told him he could go to court if he liked – the baby would still be with us. Then, on the Wednesday, he rang me at work and said he wanted to meet up Cullercoats. He said he wanted to sort it all once and for all. I got there early and I waited in the car and then, like I said to you before, I got angry. I got out and walked around trying to calm down. Then I see him arguing with this guy further up the cliff path. The guy walks off and then Johnson follows him. I wait. I’m about to give up, go back to my car, when he comes back. I can tell he’s riled up by the row he’s already had and he’s drunk. His dog’s running around like it’s some game. He comes straight at me and he says,
The world would be a better place if you were out of it!
And he grabs hold of my arm and starts to pull me towards the cliff edge. All the while he’s mumbling about
Some people don’t deserve to live!
It was ridiculous. I shook him off and he looked at me like he’d actually been serious about throwing me off the cliff. I just laughed at him and he made this dismissive gesture. He threw one hand up to wave me off as if I was nothing. It must have unbalanced him and he stumbled backwards and I walked away. I didn’t think it was enough for him to fall over. I had no idea how close to the cliff edge he was. No idea.’

‘You weren’t even sure he’d fallen off,’ Susie said.

‘At first I thought he’d just stumbled and I walked off but then I remembered he was drunk and I didn’t want him to lie out in the cold all night so I went back and looked for him. His dog was still there but he wasn’t. Anywhere. That was when I realised that he must have gone over. I called out, two, three times. Honestly, I called out but there was no answer and I just panicked.’

‘I was all for ringing the police, the ambulance, the coastguard but . . .’

‘I told her not to. I said I was sure he was dead. I don’t know those cliffs that well, especially not in the dark, but I thought the fall would have killed him.’

‘But you went back there later,’ Rose said to Susie.

‘I wanted to be sure that there was nothing we could do. I found Poppy. She was just sitting a few metres away from the cliff path so I went and looked over. I called out again and again but there was no answer. I didn’t see him.’

‘You could have rung the emergency services.’

‘Who would have believed me?’ Greg said. ‘I’d had a fight with the guy just over a week before. She’s carrying his baby. Who would have believed me? I thought he was dead.’

It was hot in the car. Rose got out and stood by the side of it. Susie got out. Greg stayed in the driver’s seat.

‘I wanted to call an ambulance. That’s why I went back. If there’d been any sign of life I’d have called the emergency services.’

‘You didn’t, though.’

‘And I regret it. What are you going to do?’

Rose stretched her arms out. She was stiff and uncomfortable. Why should it be up to her to
do
anything? Why couldn’t people clear up their own mess?

‘You left the dog there. All night in the bitter cold.’

‘I did think of taking the dog back with me but . . .’

‘It would have mucked up your story. So you waited till the morning, until your neighbour told you about it then you went and picked up the dog.’

‘Are you going to tell the police?’

‘I’m not going to do anything. You and your husband are going to go to the police and make a new statement and tell the truth. This way you both look like decent people who made bad decisions.’

‘We’ll be prosecuted.’

‘Maybe. Stuart’s coming out of the hospital on New Year’s Eve. So far he says he doesn’t remember anything. That might be true. I don’t know. The other possibility is that he knows and he’s just not saying anything, he’s keeping the information back to use in the future. If you go to the police you get it all out in the open now. You’ve got a baby on the way. It’s up to you.’

Rose walked off. She didn’t look behind. In her head she heard Stuart’s words to Greg Tyler –
The world would be a better place if you were out of it.
She remembered the letter he’d written to his solicitor, part of his Last Will and Testament.
I alone am guilty of the murder of Simon Lister.
Joshua’s uncle had a dark side.

But then so did his father.

And her mother.

TWENTY-FIVE

Rose took a long slow walk back to the house.

She was trying to take in what Greg and Susie Tyler had told her.

It was an odd thing to do, to run away when someone was hurt. Human nature was to try and help. How could Greg simply turn his back? He could have at least phoned for an ambulance or the coastguard. If Stuart was dead the difficult situation was suddenly resolved for him. Susie and he would be able to bring up the new baby without any interference if Stuart wasn’t around. Had that gone through Greg’s mind?

Susie had gone back to the cliff later, though.

Had she been overcome with guilt?

Rose realised she had taken a different route. She was at a crossroads which she didn’t recognise. Had she unconsciously avoided retracing her steps through Primrose Crescent?

She saw a sign for the
Seafront
and followed it.

Later she stood at the kitchen table and looked at what was in front of her. The grey steel box was empty and all of Stuart Johnson’s papers relating to the Butterfly Murder were laid out on the surface. The notebook was at one end with Stuart’s narrative of the abduction and murder of Judy Greaves. Also in the books were articles about the murder spaced over a year from June 2002 until September 2003 when Simon Lister was acquitted of the murder. Beside it was the pile of loose newspaper clippings that referred to the murder of Simon Lister on 23
rd
August 2004. Next to that was the letter from Brendan telling him that he wouldn’t be able to help him but that he could come up for a visit on the weekend of 23
rd
and 24
th
August 2004. Stuart’s confessional letter to his solicitor had been put back into the envelope containing his Last Will and Testament.

This was everything they had about the Butterfly Murder.

In the remaining space was Rose’s laptop. Skeggsie’s was on the work surface behind her.

Now she had found out that the house in which Judy Greaves’s body had been discovered was called Beaufort House – the same name as the company that owned the silver SUV, the car that was driven by the woman with the white-blonde hair. The car that Rose had thought was following them. The driver’s name was Margaret Spicer and she was one of the company directors – and
she
was currently staying at the Royal Hotel.

Stuart Johnson had been deeply involved in this case and had tried to persuade his brother to help. Rose sat down at the table and clicked on the saved file for Beaufort Holdings. She looked through the pages again and saw the name
Margaret Spicer, Company Director.

Rose opened up a fresh Google search. She typed in
Margaret Spicer
. Some irrelevant articles came up about an actress called Margaret Spicer and a writer of historical fiction. Rose scrolled down. There were some mentions of Beaufort Holdings, mainly the pages she had already looked at. She opened a new search. She put the words
Margaret Spicer
and
Butterfly Murder
in together.

Pages of articles came up about the Butterfly Murder but none appeared to be linked with the name Margaret Spicer. She typed in
Margaret Spicer Simon Lister
. More pages came up with the words
Simon Lister
highlighted.

She sat back. Was there any point to this? Wasn’t it just coincidental that the company was called Beaufort Holdings?

She opened up another search. She put
Primrose Crescent Margaret Spicer.
At the top of the list was an article from the local paper, the
Whitley Chronicle
. She sat up, excited. The words
Margaret Spicer
and
Primrose
were in bold. She double-clicked on the link. The newspaper article came up. She looked at the date – 15
th
June 2006. It was exactly four years after Judy Greaves’s body was found. The headline was muted, none of the splash of the Butterfly Murder press that there had been earlier. There was also a photograph of a group of three women holding small posies of flowers rather like plain clothes bridesmaids.

Memorial Park Opens for Judy

Primrose Crescent was the setting for the opening of a pretty park for local children to play in. The park, funded by the local authority, was built to commemorate ten-year-old Judy Greaves whose body was found in a nearby house in 2002. Judy’s family asked for this to be a quiet and dignified affair. Local people attended and the park was officially opened by Judy’s mother, Joanne Greaves, her sister Barbara Greaves and Margaret Spicer, the first police officer to discover Judy’s body.

The article ended there. Rose stopped reading. She sat back. Margaret Spicer had been the first police officer to attend the body in the room full of butterflies. Rose looked at the photograph. It was tiny. Underneath it the caption read
Joanne Greaves (centre) stands with her daughter, Barbara, and WPC Spicer
. Rose could just about make out the likeness of Barbara Greaves, the girl who had visited her the day before. The other two faces were blurred. The woman on the right was Margaret Spicer.

Was it the
same
Margaret Spicer? The woman with the white-blonde hair?

Why hadn’t her name been in any of the general press stories about the death? But Rose knew the answer to this. She was a WPC, a uniformed officer, anonymous, someone who just did their job. These people were never named in the papers. She’s named here because she’s been part of the healing process, the construction and opening of the children’s park.