SOLACE HOUSE a gripping crime thriller full of stunning twists (JACKMAN & EVANS Book 9), page 1
SOLACE
HOUSE
A gripping crime thriller full of stunning twists
JOY ELLIS
DI Jackman and DS Evans Book 9
Joffe Books, London
www.joffebooks.com
First published in Great Britain in 2022
© Joy Ellis 2022
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of Joy Ellis to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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ISBN: 978-1-80405-556-4
CONTENTS
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CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
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Also By Joy Ellis
The DI Nikki Galena Books
A Selection Of Books You May Enjoy
Glossary Of English Usage For US Readers
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This is to say thank you to Laura Hurt, Penny Attwood and the incredible team of volunteers who run the charity ‘Save Our Spaniels’. The fantastic work that they do to rescue and find loving homes for terribly treated, abandoned and homeless spaniels is above and beyond. It’s people like this, who pick up little lost and damaged souls and give them a new life, who rarely get acknowledged, but to you, and to all the fosterers and lovely people who have opened their homes to rescue dogs, thank you — you are amazing!
CHAPTER ONE
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DI Rowan Jackman dismounted and stroked his horse’s neck affectionately. He wished he had more time to spend here at his mother’s stables. It was the one place he could be free of the darker side of life — the world of crime and the people who committed it.
Talking gently to the beast, Jackman walked it over to where his mother was speaking to one of her stable staff. ‘This boy is really coming along, Mum. We had a great ride today.’
Harriet Jackman nodded in satisfaction, watching the groom lead the chestnut gelding away. ‘Just proves it doesn’t do to give up on a horse. Bart Cummings didn’t have the time or the patience to spend on him. The old rogue knew I was a soft touch, so he sold him to me.’ She smiled. ‘I always thought he’d suit you, son. He still needs an experienced rider, but he has all the makings of a lovely all-rounder.’
‘And I like a challenge, as you well know,’ Jackman said. He put an affectionate arm around his mother. ‘Before I forget, Laura told me to ask you and Dad to dinner on Friday night, if you’re free?’
‘That would be lovely, darling! I’d better just check your father’s overflowing social engagement diary before I commit us. I’ll ring you tonight to confirm.’
She walked with him to his car. ‘Oh, I must tell you the latest gossip. That old house called Solace is back on the market. The present owners only lasted six months.’
Jackman wasn’t surprised. ‘They should demolish the place. Fell all those old overgrown leylandii conifers and start again.’ He’d always thought that would be the only way to dispel the bad memories the old house held.
‘I’m sure it will come to that one day,’ said Harriet, ‘but everyone who takes it thinks they’ll be the ones to make it home sweet home.’ She gave a cheerless laugh. ‘Fat chance of that!’
With a kiss for his mother, Jackman got into his car. It had been a great start to the morning. Now it was home to Mill Corner for a shower and a change of clothes and then he had the rest of the day to himself for once. Laura, who was the force psychologist, was working over at Greenborough all day and he and his team were catching up on some long overdue days off, something that had been impossible during their last major investigation.
As he drove towards Amberley Fen, a village about a mile from his parents’ home, he was suddenly taken with the idea of having another look at the house called Solace. He hung a swift left and turned into a narrow farm drove. After about a quarter of a mile of twists and turns along a single-track lane, he saw a thick, dark cluster of unkempt trees looming up. He slowed down and pulled up about 100 metres short of the drive.
All he could see of the house itself was a single chimney stack rising up through the trees. Even from this distance, he could feel the melancholy atmosphere that hung over the place.
‘You lost?’
He hadn’t noticed the woman and her dog emerge from a field path just behind the car until she was level with his window. He wound it down. ‘No, I’m fine, but thanks anyway.’ He smiled and looked down at the young black Labrador standing at the woman’s side. ‘Oh my! Is that a Sandringham Sydney?’
The woman drew the dog closer and backed away from the car.
‘It’s okay, honestly. I’m a police officer.’ He pulled his warrant card from his pocket and held it up so she could see it. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you.’
She visibly relaxed. ‘So many dogs are getting stolen these days, you can’t be too careful.’ She pulled a small can of hairspray from her pocket. ‘It’s not exactly pepper spray, but it would sting like hell if you got an eyeful.’
‘And I can’t arrest you for carrying it.’ He smiled again. ‘Unlike pepper spray. That has the same legal penalties as carrying a gun.’
‘To protect my dog, I’d chance it, but maybe I shouldn’t be telling you that.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘And you’re right about the breed. You are the first person I’ve met to have even heard of it, let alone recognise one. You a dog breeder?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but I had a beautiful lad like yours when I was a kid. I thought I’d never get over losing him and I was right, I never did. My Ozzie was a very special boy.’
‘Like Rory here.’ She looked down fondly at her dog and tickled his ear.
‘Great name,’ Jackman said, thinking of their Home Office pathologist, Professor Rory Wilkinson. Was there maybe the slightest resemblance?
‘My husband has a Scottish mother and an Irish father, and he wanted a good strong Gaelic name for the puppy.’ She looked at him inquisitively. ‘So, why are you out here? And if I might say, you don’t look exactly dressed for work, or is that what you’d call plain clothes?’
‘Oh no! It’s my day off. My mother owns the livery stable about a mile or so back down the drove. I’ve been riding.’ He looked towards the old house. ‘I was involved in an enquiry out here many years ago and just wondered what had happened to the place. I guess I hoped it had been completely restored, or maybe—’
‘Bulldozed and razed to the ground?’ Her tone was harsh.
‘So you live around here?’ he asked.
‘For my sins, I’m the idiot who lives in Solace. But only for as long as it takes to sell it, believe me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jackman. ‘It does have a pretty grim history, doesn’t it?’
The woman snorted. ‘Hah! That I could cope with. We knew all about the murder when we bought it. We’re not superstitious people, Officer. It’s just a house. It’s people that do terrible things, not bricks and mortar.’
You’re not wrong there, thought Jackman. ‘So what’s the problem?’
She didn’t answer, just heaved a sigh and stared at the dog.
He filled in the silence with, ‘My name is Jackman. I’m a DI at Saltern-le-Fen. Can I ask, are you having problems with anyone out here? Because if you are, I’d be happy to get one of our people to come and chat with you.’
‘No, no, it’s nothing like that.’ She looked thoroughly miserable. ‘It’s just no place to bring up children. M
‘Sure. Love to. If you’ll forgive the riding breeches and rather ancient horse-smelling gilet?’
‘This is the country, DI Jackman, not Mayfair. Park anywhere in the driveway. I’ll go and unlock.’
As he drove between the straggling bushes and tall uncared-for conifers, he felt exactly as he had when he first saw Solace — a heaviness of heart and a sense of foreboding.
Without a doubt, it was the most austere house he had ever come across on the Fens. It rose up from the end of the drive like a prison block. There were no windows on this side of the property, just dark red brickwork. It was quite unusual, three storeys high, and nothing like the conventional Fenland farmhouse. The fact that it was facing sideways onto the road made it look as if it was turning away, hoping to be ignored by anyone passing. And anyone with any sense would do just that, drive on past. He had never come across a more inappropriately named house in all his time on the force. There was no solace of any kind to be found here.
He parked and walked around to the left-hand side of the house, where he found the front door open. He experienced an odd feeling of déjà vu. It had been open like this the first time he had come here. But on that occasion, he had found a distraught man sitting next to the body of his dead wife and saying that he had had to kill her, he had had no choice.
Jackman mentally gathered himself, tapped on the open door, and hearing Holly call for him to go in, made his way to the kitchen.
‘How do you like your coffee?’ she asked, switching the kettle on.
‘White, no sugar, thank you.’
She took mugs from a decorative mug tree on the counter, and a cannister of coffee from a cupboard.
Jackman looked around. They had clearly made an effort to cheer up the old place, and it had been freshly painted in a light lemony colour. Some of the work surfaces and cupboards had been replaced, there was a new stainless-steel sink instead of the worn and stained old Belfast sink that he remembered. Children’s attempts at artwork and colourful photos were stuck with magnets to the doors of the big fridge-freezer. But still it felt dark and rather depressing.
After having given Jackman a welcoming sniff and a tail wag, Rory had taken himself off to his bed and immediately closed his eyes. Even the dog seemed to be in low spirits now he was indoors again.
‘Where are you from,’ asked Jackman, ‘if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Out of the area, DI Jackman. We came here so that the kids wouldn’t be brought up on a rough estate on the outskirts of a big town.’ There was a resentful edge to her words. ‘We had all these hopes for a peaceful rural way of life, but now . . .’ She shrugged and gave a rueful smile. ‘I wish to God we’d stayed put and chanced our luck with poor schools and maybe a drug dealer for a next-door neighbour.’
‘It’s really that bad here?’ He knew the answer already, but not the reason for it.
She nodded mutely and finished making the drinks. She handed him a mug and sat down opposite him at the kitchen table. ‘To say we didn’t think this through properly is an understatement, but we really believed it was the best thing that had happened to us.’ She leaned forward, her elbows on the table. ‘We didn’t start out in a rough area, we both come from decent homes and families, but you know how it is sometimes, a run of bad luck, an unwise investment, a business venture folding under us, poor health and so on, and we found ourselves sliding down the ladder.’
Jackman could almost see the exasperation rising from her like steam. But he knew that sometimes events conspired against you and there was little you could do to stop the downward spiral.
‘Then Hugh’s mother died, and we inherited some money. Not a fortune, but enough for a very small place of our own. Then we wondered if we’d get more for our money if we moved right away from town and into a different area. A friend suggested Lincolnshire, and he was right, the prices are much lower here. Hugh spoke to an estate agent in Saltern, and he sent us a whole load of information on some pretty nice small properties in this area.’ Holly gave a little groan. ‘Then he told Hugh about this place, almost as a joke. He said, “Mind you, if you are prepared to live in a property with a very dark history, we could offer you a five-bedroom detached house in an acre of ground for the price of a two-bed semi-detached new build on an estate.”’
‘Ah,’ said Jackman, wondering if the estate agent had seen them as a couple of gullible incomers, and had deliberately thrown them a carrot. ‘And you simply had to view it.’
‘Of course! Wouldn’t you? As I said, we’re townies, but we’re down to earth. We just wanted fresh air, a bit of space so the kids could play in safety. We wanted a garden to grow our own vegetables and I wanted to see flowers when I looked out of the window, not overflowing rubbish sacks and car tyres.’
‘And when you visited? What was your impression?’ Jackman was recalling his own first take on the place, one of gloom and despondency.
‘We saw one whole lot of house for very little money, and what we could do with it as the years went by. We never saw it as it was, only what it could become in the future. It was just too good to let go. Or so we thought.’ Holly stared into her coffee. ‘We didn’t bother with proper searches, and worst of all, we might not be superstitious, but we never took into consideration what other people thought about a murder having taken place here and the impact that could have on us.’
A murder? thought Jackman. But it wasn’t just one. Or perhaps she didn’t know that. He decided not to take it further right now. ‘How does that affect you, Holly?’
‘How long have you got? Oh, I won’t bore you with the list of ways, but the one that really hurts is how the children are treated at school. They’re both bullied and called the Creepy Kids from the House of Horrors. Even their journey on the school bus to Cadring Eaudyke is a nightmare for them. Children can be so spiteful.’
‘I’m sorry things have gone so wrong for you. I have to say most Fenlanders are really kind and welcoming, it’s not like them to be inhospitable.’
Holly looked thoroughly miserable. ‘It’s not everyone, of course, we have met a few nice people. Bottom line, it’s the house that’s the problem. Everything’s gone wrong since we moved in. My Hugh had the promise of a really well-paid job in Saltern — he’s a skilled welder and a good one — but it fell through at the last minute and he’s still not found permanent work yet, so money is tight. Hence, we’ve been living on the money we’d put aside for the house, so we can’t move forward at all.’
Holly looked anxiously at Jackman. ‘I’m so sorry. I have no idea why I’m pouring all this out to you. I’m usually a really private person and goodness, I don’t even know you!’
‘You do now.’ Jackman gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It sounds like you’ve bottled this up for too long. Tell me, what has made you abandon your dreams and sell up?’
She sighed. ‘There’s something about this house, DI Jackman. It’s so depressing to live here. It’s always dark and it seems to leach all the joy from your life. Sounds stupid, I know, but the children aren’t thriving, they sleep badly and have terrible dreams. Hugh and I have started arguing and we never did that before. We love each other dearly, but it’s as if all the sunshine has left our lives.’ She stood up and walked to the window. ‘See all these horrid, overgrown, half-dead conifers?’ She gave a sweeping gesture. ‘Our first job was to clear them, take them down and get the roots out, let the light in and plan a proper garden.’ She pulled a face. ‘Then we got the quotes. It was out of the question, especially with Hugh struggling to find work.’
‘It would make a huge difference to the light,’ said Jackman. ‘Maybe doing them in bite-size sections would be cheaper? One small area at a time?’
‘Hugh started to do it himself, but it was too dangerous on his own and hiring the right equipment was really costly.’ She gave Jackman a sad smile. ‘He gave up, and nothing grows in the area that he did clear. I think the tree roots took all the goodness from the soil. It’s like everything we do is a failure. Now we’re in limbo — every penny we have is tied up in this property. If we can’t sell it, we can’t move on, or even look at anything else.’
