Wishing a very Happy Birthday to Joodiff. I hope your day is fabulous and filled with fun. :) xxx

Unpleasant Inklings

~ PB ~

Julianne Ferne is interesting. That, after just the initial five minutes, is Boyd's considered opinion. Interesting enough to justify this entire two-day, inordinately long trek all the way up to the bitingly cold north that's so bloody north it might as well be Scotland. In her seventies she may very well be, but she's spry, shrewd, and very direct. She also, it seems, has a very clear memory, even close to fifty years after the quintuple series of brutal murders.

The disgracefully early start to the day, and the good-natured teasing that eventually turned into an hours-long squabble at the sleepy, grumpy way Grace slithered into his car and promptly closed her eyes for at least the first couple of hours once her seatbelt was fastened, is fast fading as he listens to this eloquent woman recount what she witnessed, and what she knew of the five Harvey brothers who so spectacularly fell out with the Wallis family.

"Patrick, Sidney, Walter, Graham, and Harold," she recounts steadily. "Nice lads, good neighbours. Hardworking, honest. Took good care of their parents, especially their mother after the father died young. It was a factory accident, one of the steel foundries, I think…"

Grace is sitting quietly on the sofa opposite Julianne's comfortable armchair, her expression inscrutable as she listens intently. Not for the first time, Boyd finds himself wondering what goes through her mind at meetings such as this one. Still, when she glances his way, somehow seeming to know he is gazing her way, they share a look of mutual understanding that it appears their interminably long drive was worth it.

"Their mother Eileen was wonderful, very active in the church, and she took in boarders after Walter – that was her husband's name, too – died. There was never any trouble until the Wallis's moved to town. But then…"

For a moment there is silence, Julianne clearly lost in memory, and Boyd finds himself questioning why five such apparently decent young men ended up in so much trouble.

"We know very little about the Wallis family," Grace offers, after a few moments pause.

Julianne purses her lips. "They were… rough around the edges," she explains. "Vera and Stanley were the parents, then there was Bill, the brother-in-law. He was a nasty piece of work, as was his son, Bill Junior. Hard men, worked on the docks, drank too much, got in plenty of fights. Complete opposite of Stanley. I think he had a lot of morals, but he was overpowered."

Julianne lapses into thoughtful silence again, before offering more of an explanation. "Vera was… strong-willed. Incredibly so. Anyone who knew them, more than in passing, could see how it was. She ruled that house and she got what she wanted. And if she didn't, she took it. Or she got someone to take it for her. Stanley was a nice man, but he couldn't stand up to her. There were whisperings that she beat him, but they were only whisperings, you understand? In those days it was never talked of if a woman hit a man. It barely is now, so back then…"

"We understand," Grace assures her. "There are still some taboos waiting to be broken. What about the children?"

"Rick, Jonny and Gary were the boys, and then they had Sally and another girl, but she died just before the family moved in opposite my parent's house. I can't recall her name. I think some of the neighbours turned a blind eye to the goings on at first because it was obvious that the grief for her went deep. But then, well, then things got worse. There were more fights, and things went missing. A house at the end of the road was broken into and everyone knew it was Jonny and Bill Junior, but there was no proof. It was… an atmosphere of suspicion."

"What did the police say at the time?" asks Boyd, trying to recall the official reports.

"There were a few arrests; all the sons, Bill Senior and Bill Junior, even Sally. She was a hard girl, vicious if you got in her way. She dragged my good friend halfway down the street once, pulled a thick clump of her hair clean out of her scalp and gave her such a black eye. There was talk that Vera was organising stolen property being moved around the country, but I don't know if that was true or not. She certainly had the… ambition… to do such things."

There's more, much more that Julianne can tell them, and she does as Grace gently probes, encouraging her to divulge information that might not seem significant to her, but is to them. Boyd sits quietly and lets her do it. He is by no means a poor interviewer, but Grace has a quiet, unassuming way with people that makes them want to talk, and with her asking the questions he can both make notes and think about what they are missing. It's a classic interview technique, and they have elevated it to something of an artform throughout the years.

"How did the Wallis boys fall out with Harvey's?" Boyd eventually asks, redirecting the train of conversation when Grace subtly taps her fingers against her knee. She's finished, and no matter how interesting the back story, what he really wants is to get to the nitty gritty.

Julianne turns her gaze from Grace, and Boyd suddenly feels as though he is being deeply considered. "Dorothy," she finally says, her tone shifting to the quieter, sadder realms.

"Dorothy?" asks Grace, perplexed. "Who was she?"

Julianne studies both of them in turn, a hint of a frown appearing in her brow. "She was the Harvey boy's younger sister. She was adopted by Eileen and Walter about three or four years after the youngest son was born. They wanted more, but Eileen couldn't… Anyway, they adopted Dorothy and then a couple of years later another girl called Elise. Dot and I were the best of friends. There was only a year between us, you see. She was beautiful, and vivacious. Always full of life. All the boys wanted to win her over. Elise was much quieter, she stayed indoors and read a lot. Maybe because she was so much younger, I don't know. There was about five years between her and Dot, and she wasn't ever so old when Walter died, I think. Anyway, she was adamant that she wanted to go to university, and she did. She's a professor of behavioural sciences now, or something like that, if she's not retired."

"What happened to Dot?" asks Boyd, sure he doesn't want to know.

Julianne sighs, and sinks back into her chair. She tilts her head to gaze out into the garden and for a while says nothing. "It was the youngest Wallis boy," she finally tells them. "Gary. He took a shine to her, as all the local lads had, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He followed her when she left the house, turned up at the shop where she worked on Saturday's, then when she left the nursing college where we trained together. It got so bad that she couldn't go out alone. Patrick and Walter had words with Stanley, the father, and with Gary; told them Dot wasn't interested and to leave her alone. Stanley ordered Gary away from her, but it did no good. And Gary got bolder; he tried grabbing her in the street, he kissed her a couple of times. I gave him a black eye the second time, whacking him with my handbag. I got a broken wrist and two fingers for my efforts, and Dot had the most tremendous bruising on her arms where he grabbed her, and on her face where he punched her when she wouldn't get on the back of his motorbike."

"Did you tell the police?"

Julianne sighs again, a look of deep sadness filling her face. "We did. He was arrested, and he confessed to breaking my arm and to attacking Dot. He had to. It was broad daylight and there were a dozen witnesses or more. He went to prison for two years. When he was let out, we'd finished our training and we were working together in York for six months. We wanted to go abroad, you see. There were opportunities for nurses to work in Africa then, and we both fancied it. And then Dot went home to visit her mother one weekend, and she never came back."

"He killed her?" asks Boyd, but Grace is shaking her head. They share another glance, and Boyd can instantly see that something is troubling her, that she knows where this ends.

"No," Julianne tells him. "He grabbed her as she went to the shop for her mother, and he dragged her into the outhouse of the Wallis house. He kept her there for three days, raping her repeatedly and beating her. She escaped, eventually, and she hid away at her mother's until her bruises were gone. But then…"

Grace finishes the story for them. "She found out she was pregnant."

Julianne nods. "She did. And then she went to the woods and hung herself."

Slowly, Boyd runs a hand through his beard, eyes falling to the soft, gently patterned carpet beneath his shoes. What a waste of young life. "Why is there no mention of Dot in the original investigation?" he muses out loud. "Did the police ever speak to you about her?"

Julianne shakes her head. "No. She didn't… do what she did until three months after Gary abducted her. And Eileen managed to keep it all to herself for another six months after that. When the first murder happened, I was still in York – I'd stayed, you see. I didn't want to go abroad without her, not after all the plans we'd made. It seemed… well, anyway, then I met my husband and a year later we moved up here. But I know from my parents that the Harvey boys never talked about what happened, so I think perhaps they never said anything to the police either. They were like that. Wanted to protect their sisters, I imagine. Especially Elise after everything that happened. Honourable, I suppose you could call them."

It's a lot of information, and scanning through the pages of notes he's made, Boyd realises he and Grace need time to discuss it all between them. "Would you be willing to give us a statement about all of this?"

"What's the point, after all these years?"

"Five men died, and we still don't know who killed who, or why," Boyd points out.

"Yes, but why dig into it all now?"

"Because that's what we do," explains Grace, gently. "We look into cold cases, unsolved murders."

"Hmm. Well, I don't see why not, but you'll have to come back another day. I have choir practice soon."

"That's fine," agrees Boyd.

Grace gets to her feet, lifts her ridiculous bag to her shoulder. "May I use," she begins, and Julianne nods immediately, gestures to her left.

"Of course. Down the hall, second door to the left."

Boyd automatically watches Grace leave, a habit ingrained from years of working with her. When he turns his attention back to Julianne, he finds her studying him with that clear, direct gaze, and a not quite hidden hint of a smile. As if she knows something he doesn't.

He tilts his head, asks a silent question. Julianne merely shakes hers and says nothing.

For a moment there is a strange silence, one that leaves him feeling mildly uncomfortable. "So," he asks, "when are you available again?"

They are finalising arrangements to meet in two days' time when Grace returns, pausing to look at photographs on the wall.

"Those are my three," Julianne explains, getting to her feet and moving to stand by Grace. She points to one of the photographs which shows her, young, tanned and blond, with her equally tanned and flaxen-haired husband. Two boys, one older, sturdy and dark-haired in a Scouts uniform, one younger and white blonde in his first pair of proper shoes, are stood beside their parents, and sitting in Julianne's lap is a tiny doll-like little girl, the perfect miniature of her mother.

Boyd stands behind them both, studying the picture, and the ones surrounding it in which the children age and grandchildren appear, seven in all. Happy faces, plenty of smiles. Lots of sunshine.

"I've even got a great-grandchild on the way now," Julianne tells them proudly. "Due in a few weeks' time."

Conversation persists for another couple of minutes, and then Boyd leads the way out into the darkness. The car is cold, and from the corner of his eye he sees Grace shiver and press the button to activate the heated seat. Quietly, unobtrusively, he winds the heater up a couple of notches and then starts to drive.

They sit in near silence, both digesting what they've learned. It's far from uncomfortable though, and briefly Boyd allows his mind to wander into how it's always been this way. With Grace, he doesn't need to explain himself, doesn't need to question to see if she's on the same page. She's makes for an easy friendship, and a – usually – easy working relationship, too.

There's a lot more to this case than he expected, he realises, and suddenly, despite his earlier reservations about this trip, he's inordinately grateful he left Spencer back in the capital temporarily heading both the Mayfair armed robbery and the Epping Forest double abduction investigations they were already running as active cases when he decided he wanted to look at the Harvey-Wallis murders as well.

So deep in thought about cases and information is he, that Boyd doesn't spare a thought for his surroundings as he turns onto the narrow road that will lead them back towards the main road, and the town they bypassed that morning on their way to visit Julianne. It's only when his eyes pick out something highly unusual ahead of them in the gloom that he automatically brings the Audi to a quick but smooth halt.

For a split-second he really can't believe what he is seeing. And then reality hits hard, along with a healthy dose of embarrassment and fury.

He swears, of course he does.

Loudly, too.

But only once.

And then he's out of the car and slamming the door behind him.