Chapter Eight – More Questions Added

Phil Bellamy was feeling the effects of the inebriation coming over him and he welcomed it. It had been quite some time since he'd been this drunk but he felt relaxed and better. The tension from working the murder case and the tiptoeing around Gina was lost for a while. He chuckled slightly to himself as he realized that his former sergeant was glaring at him from a distance, shaking his head at the inappropriate behavior showed by him as a police officer.

He'd come to the pub at lunch and tried to talk to Gina but she'd politely brushed him off. However, he'd not given in. Instead he'd ordered a meal and had a chat with some locals at a table. Then he'd resumed his duties for another couple of hours until his shift had ended. The constant press from CID, the division HQ in Whitby, the media and even the villagers when it concerned the murder enquiry was only adding to his burden of losing his beloved child and his fiancé all at the same time but in a different form. Gina wasn't dead she was just not interested in him anymore in any way. He simply couldn't stand it any longer. That's how he'd ended up right back at the Aidensfield Arms seeking out Gina again – because, when it came down to it, she was the only one that could understand.

The barmaid had busied herself and only talked to him occasionally and so he had ordered pint after pint, his uniform jacket tucked away as not to offend Oscar too much. He wasn't on duty after all, only he hadn't felt like changing clothes before heading to the pub the second time.

He hastily opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them in the first place, as he heard the familiar siren of the panda car outside. He struggled to get out of the chair he was residing in and clumsily grabbed his jacket on his way outside.

That warranted the barmaid's attention and she came over, placing her hand gently on his shoulder as he was about to stumble out. He froze momentarily just inside the entrance door at her touch, she hadn't done that since the tragedy had taken their child.

"Phil," Gina said softly, sadness displayed in her eyes.

"I have to go, Gina, something has happened," he reasoned softly, drowning in her eyes as the sadness there mirrored the one displayed in his own.

"I don't think Sergeant Merton would approve," she said softly. "Besides, I think it's time you and I had a talk."

He stared at her, not really comprehending what she meant but found himself nodding as he let her steer him clear of the door and toward the snug.

I've been selfish, Phil," she said as they sat down opposite each other and he could see that she was struggling for the right words. "I can manage small talk and everything else but not that topic. I haven't had the guts to talk about it – about everything that happened. And if I chose not to talk about it, then maybe I could pretend it didn't happen."

Something in him snapped, he couldn't stop it as he leaned forward over the table, his eyes dark. "It's not only about you," he said in a low voice yet it was so filled with anger and despair that it hurt Gina to listen.

"I was there too, Gina," Phil continued. "It was our baby. You giving me the cold shoulder like it was my fault it happened hasn't exactly helped things."

The barmaid nodded as tears slowly threatened to spring from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Phil," she whispered.

OOOOOO

Liz's head shot up and she strained her ears to hear the faint sound of approaching sirens. "Ben?!" she said calmly despite the helplessness she was feeling.

"I'm here, Liz," he said as he walked toward her. "I'm sorry it took so long. Are you ok?"

She nodded faintly, her eyes focused on the man on the ground. "I'm not the one who's been injured, Ben," she said.

"How's he doing?" Norton asked carefully as he moved to stand behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Liz shook her head and when she spoke her voice was serious. "Not good, his pulse is rapid, his breathing shallow, his eyes are glazed over and he's been mumbling incoherently for a while. I fear he's got serious internal injuries."

Ben nodded. "The ambulance is here now," he said. "I better show them in."

Within ten minutes they had the man loaded on the stretcher and taken into the back of the ambulance ready to take off. "I can't wait for Dennis, I'm going with them to the hospital," Liz said.

Ben nodded. "I'll explain the situation to the police and, somehow, I'm going to explain it to Lord Ashfordly," he said as he watched the doors closing behind the doctor. "His lordship is going to hit the roof."

OOOOOO

"Mr. Scripps!" David shouted joyfully as he popped his head down in the basement causing the older brother of the Scripps family to jump where he stood bent over Jeremy Watson.

David had the decency to look afoul and took off his hat in the presence of the deceased. "I'm sorry, Mr. Scripps. I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized.

"Would you mind knocking next time," Bernie muttered as he let out a relieved breath.

David looked down at the young man lying in the coffin in a crisp white shirt and a marine blue suit. He looked good, his hair had been washed, the blue tinge and deadly pale face had been smoothened by makeup and he looked peaceful, not like on the picture taken earlier.

"Why did he die?" David asked sadly.

"I don't know, David. I wish he could tell us," Bernie said solemnly. "There are so many questions unanswered to this tragedy. It's Jack Lane's nephew. Like that family hasn't been through enough as it is already."

David was quiet but the look on his face told Bernie he had no idea what had occurred in the past.

"It's a long story David, and I've only heard half of it. But, according to Oscar…"

He trailed off as Vernon stomped down the stairs and walked into the candle lit room. "Here you are. I was wondering where you got to," he said, looking at his half-brother. "Doing business I see. Well, after today I would give a lot to have customers like him that doesn't complain."

Bernie rolled his eyes and sighed. "Why don't you go home, Vernon and take a shower. And please show some respect while you're down here," he admonished.

"I wasn't offending him," Vernon protested. "I was just saying I've had a trying day that's all. Believe it or not brother dear but I don't like seeing him dead any more than you do. Word is that he was a good guy."

"Will his family come to the funeral?" David asked softly.

"His family is scattered, David, but I've managed to get a hold of his father at last. I'm working on the rest," Bernie returned.

OOOOOO

Dennis Merton glanced at his wristwatch and noticed with dismay that it was close to ten pm. He got out of the black Ford Anglia police car at the front of the General Hospital in Ashfordly and headed inside. Moments earlier he'd gotten a report from Steve Crane from the site. DC Lucas was teaming up with him in order to get some more clues as of to what had happened. They had agreed to proceed with caution should the perpetrator still be in the vicinity.

Roadblocks were being organized and the railway master had been notified. DC Travis had been sent to the station to see to it that no one suspicious left on the night train. Unfortunately that was all they could do at the moment since it was dark outside. Search patrols would be on the agenda first thing in the morning. So much for the nice and quiet night he had envisioned with Jenny.

Sgt. Merton closed the distance to the emergency treatment room, or casualty section, in two strides, his coat swirling around his body. The stern look on his face and the authority his uniform carried caused children to run and hide behind their parents as he passed a waiting room.

Liz Merrick walked out of the closed room just as he rounded the corner. She smiled wearily as she recognized him and turned toward him as he strode up to her.

"Dennis," she acknowledged. "Any news?"

"The only thing I have is more questions," he stated, his voice short. "Reporters are already up at the mine. Lord Ashfordly is furious and I don't have the manpower to meet his demands of a policeman on standby at the Hall. However, I expect a call from his friend the Chief Constable any minute."

Liz pursed her lips into a thin line.

"Anyway, the man in there will not be unknown for much longer. When can we speak to him?" He demanded to know.

"Dennis," Liz complained. "He's unconscious and in a very bad way. You can't just barge in there. He will be taken into surgery the minute Doctor Jacobs gets here."

"It can't wait, Liz," he cautioned.

"I'm not allowing it," she returned angrily. "He's a patient and I'm a doctor and I'm telling you to wait."

"Fine," he bit off in a short tone of voice, his gloved hands unconsciously balling into fists at his sides. "But fingerprints and pictures will be taken before the surgery. I'm sure he wouldn't object."

Liz narrowed her eyes at him, clearly angry but she said nothing.

"What do you think happened?" he asked suddenly, the edge in his voice gone.

The doctor frowned at him and then pursed her lips into a thin line of displeasure. "I don't really know, Dennis, I am not sure what to tell you," she let on sincerely. "I can't say how long he's been there or how he sustained his injuries other than that it was caused by another person."

By the look on his face it wasn't what he had wanted to hear.

"No, no one seems to know anything around here," he replied sarcastically as he began to walk away.

Liz raised a questionable eyebrow and glared at him. "What do you…" she began smartly, angered by what he was implying. That he thought she should know more.

The petite doctor began to follow the police sergeant down the corridor. Taking three steps to match his stride it didn't take long before she caught up with him.

"Don't you dare," she began but as she watched him in the sharpness of the light her anger slowly morphed into concern.

He looked tired, exhausted even. The lines on his face more pronounced than usual and there was a tightness around his eyes that indicated a headache.

Dennis held up his hand in a surrendering gesture. "I'm sorry, Liz. I didn't mean…" he began, his voice softer. "Just forget it."

"Are you all right?" She asked kindly.

"Merton!" DI Shiner hollered, causing both the doctor and sergeant to jump, as he rounded the corner and headed their way.

Dennis glanced over his shoulder and then refocused his attention on his wife's colleague. "Everything is just great," he let on with a sarcastic smirk.

OOOOOO

PC Steve Crane sighed as he got up from his crouched position back at the mine. A bit further into the tunnel the glow of DC Lucas's flashlight cast an eerie light against the old walls. Crane shivered involuntarily at the dampness of the place and carefully scraped away the top layer of the sand with the tip of his shoe. Something glimmered in the faint light and he bent down again out of curiosity. He picked up an old silver coin and gently held it between his fingers, wiggling it slowly back and forth as if deep in thought.

The unknown man that Liz and Ben had found had been taken to the hospital, that he knew, but the question was what had happened before that? They had found blood on the dirty floor and on one of the neatly stacked shovels. Also there had been signs of the man being dragged to the location where he'd been found. Steve shook his head as more questions than answers appeared in his mind. Another man, although not a murder case this time, had been found on the Ashfordly Estate. Had they assumed wrong when they dismissed that the Hall had anything to do with it? He mused.

"Crane," Raymond Lucas said as he neared, carrying the shovel in his gloved hand. "I'd say we call it a day here. I can't find anything more in here that would be of importance to the investigation."

Steve nodded and got up, placing the coin safely in his pocket. "It's not much to go on. We only have the footprints, the marks in the sand and hopefully some fingerprints on that shovel," he said.

"I'll bring it to the station. Makes it easier than for you to have it on the motorcycle," the DC reasoned. "Besides, Shiner would probably want to call in the special crime scene team from the MET. They'll fine tune the place should we have missed something."

"Thanks," Steve said with a smile. "I'll head over to the hospital and see to it that we get fingerprints from the injured man for identification and to exclude his prints from any others."

OOOOOO

Alf looked up from the file he was studying as the door opened to reveal his sergeant. With a frown he waited for the DI to follow him in and was surprised to see the sergeant was alone.

"I thought DI Shiner would be with you?" the old, now retired, copper said.

"Why? Do you miss his presence, Ventress?" Merton asked in a sarcastic yet weary voice.

"It's just that he said he was to catch up with you at the hospital," Alf returned.

Merton nodded stoically. "And he did, he let on cryptically before changing subject. "Alf, what are you still doing here? It's late."

"Oh," he said with a van smile and removed the teabag from the freshly boiled water. "I'm in no hurry. You see Mrs. Ventress is having a gathering tonight and I believe it's best to be otherwise occupied."

"I see. While you have been otherwise occupied have you found anything of interest?" The sergeant asked smartly.

"Steve reported in just before you arrived," Alf offered. "He's taken the prints under the protest of the doctors."

Dennis chuckled sarcastically remembering Liz's words from earlier. His next question to Alf was cut short as the door to the station opened to reveal a worried Jenny Merton.

The sergeant frowned at the appearance of his wife, on the police station, close to midnight.

"Thank goodness, there you are," Jenny said as she breathed a sigh of relief.

He had the decency to look sheepish as she walked over to him.

"I thought something had happened," Jenny admonished. "I've tried to phone you for hours. I left a message for you and that was ages ago. Then I tried to phone Liz and the practice but there was no answer there either."

Dennis swallowed as he took her into his arms and held her tight. He was still marveling over the fact that someone cared so much about him and he felt like such a jerk when he was reminded of it in this way. He'd been working - coordinating things, ordering people around, taking orders from CID, arguing with Liz Merrick, gotten reports from various people and tried to come up with something to crack the case with that he hadn't had time to think of his wife for several hours. His most recent thought had been about the press and the publicity this new event would arise in the neighborhood.

"You could at least have called," she whispered softly into his chest as she closed her eyes and let the comfort of being in his presence sooth her frayed nerves.

"Sarge," Alf spoke up softly. "I'm sure whatever it was you were supposed to do back here can wait till tomorrow. I'll close up later. Just go home the two of you."

OOOOOO

To be continued

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