Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders) (28 page)

‘That’s something to look forward to, then.’

‘Didn’t you say that we all revert to type in the end?’

Hall laughed. ‘Something like that. This one sounds like fun anyway.’

‘It’s not the one about the blokes driving around Turkey in the dark, then doing a grisly autopsy, is it? That just sounded like an especially bad day at work.’

‘You mean
Once upon a Time in Anatolia
? Not a barrel of laughs I agree, but still a fantastic film, honestly.’

‘I’ll take your word for it. So what’s this one about, Mongolian yak herders who’ve experienced a difficult cheese-making season, with all the drama and/or hilarity that entails?’

‘You’ve seen it then, have you?’ said Hall, laughing.

Terry Walker was feeling better. He knew because he was starting to feel really angry about how he’d been treated. It wasn’t his fault if that mad bitch had decided to kill herself, he was absolutely sure of that now. He even asked Kylie what she thought, and she agreed. ‘Might be best to keep your head down though, Terry love, until it all blows over.’

But Walker’s world wasn’t a very big one, and apart from two weeks in the sun each August he rarely went further than town, to the bookies, the pub, and occasionally a club with Kylie. He lay on the sofa and read the paper, starting at the back page. There was a horse running later in the day that he’d backed a couple of times before, and which had almost won both times. And the longer he looked at it the more convinced he became that today would be different. He shouted to Kylie to ask if she had any cash. She said she thought she might have a tenner, but that they needed milk, bread and a couple of other things.

‘I’ll get them’ he said. ‘Just write them down so I don’t forget.’

She came in to the living room, holding the note in front of her.

‘You will remember to get milk and bread’ she said, looking doubtful. ‘Just those two things, love.’ He nodded, but Kylie knew that she had no chance of getting either.

Half an hour later Walker pulled the front door closed behind him, and felt the hot sun on his face. How long had this weather lasted? He couldn’t remember exactly, two weeks, maybe three? What he did know was that he needed to take advantage of it, and with Eleanor and her kid gone they’d be able to enjoy a barbecue in peace out the back. The neighbours on the other side were an older couple and they were as good as gold. Walker never heard a peep out of them.

He enjoyed the stroll in to town, and his good feeling about that horse was getting stronger with every step. He decided to bet the whole tenner, and then see if he could cadge a pint after. The betting shop was dark after the sunlit street, and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust. When they did he saw that he knew both men who were in there, an older man who his dad had worked with years before, and a younger one who his lads had been to school with. A little, weasel-faced lad who worked part-time in the off licence on the estate.  Terry was still searching for his name and thinking what a cushy number he had when the lad walked past him, and even thought there was plenty of space he dipped his shoulder hard into Terry as he passed. Terry was so surprised that he didn’t react, and he just watched the kid walk out through the open door.

Jean, the woman behind the counter, had been taking Terry’s bets since he was a teenager, and she’d seen what happened. Terry couldn’t read her expression, but perhaps that was because of the scratched bandit glass between them.

‘Bad loser’ he said, as he shrugged and smiled at her.

‘That must be it, love.’

When he got to the pub he was glad he’d only put on a fiver, because no-one called out and asked what he wanted. But he saw a couple of lads he knew, so he bought a pint and went over to them. Neither had ever given him any trouble, so he was feeling pretty relaxed.

‘All right lads.’

One of them mumbled something, and whatever conversation they’d been having was obviously finished. Terry took a sip of his drink, and wondered how to play it. Normally he’d have been aggressive, he could take either of them easy, even with his stitches. But he didn’t say anything. So the three of them sat there, sipping in silence.

Eventually the younger man, a fat lad called Duncan, spoke. ‘I don’t want to drink with you Terry. Sorry, but what you did was dead wrong.’

‘What did I do, then?’ said Walker, trying to sound friendly, like they were discussing a football match involving teams that neither of them supported.

‘Eleanor Barrow.’

‘She topped herself, Duncan mate. Nothing to do with me.’

Walker saw Duncan’s eyes move, and sensed that there was someone behind him.

‘This bastard bothering you, lads?’ Walker didn’t turn. He knew it was Frostick.

‘Aye’ said Duncan. ‘We didn’t invite him to join us.’

‘Of course you didn’t, Duncan.’ Walker felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

‘I thought I told you, Walker? Which bit of fuck and off didn’t you understand, eh? Now what you’re going to do is get up nice and quiet, and go home, and start packing. You understand me? Don’t think that posh copper trying to mark my card makes any difference. We all want you out of here, and out of here you will go, one way or the other.’

Walker could feel the anger building, but he felt powerless.

‘But I haven’t finished my drink.’ He could hear his wheedling tone, and he didn’t like it.

‘You haven’t got time for that. And don’t worry lads, I’ll make sure that glass goes straight in the bin after. We don’t want any right decent lads like you drinking from it, do we?’

Walker felt the pressure on his shoulder reduce, and he started to get up. He wondered if he could get his glass smashed and the ragged edges into the side of Frostick’s big bald head before Frostick could do anything, but he doubted it. He still enjoyed the idea though.

Thirty seconds later Walker was back on the street. Two of Frostick’s mates walked along behind him as he set off for home. One of those bastards in the bookies must have called Frostick and told him where he was. On the edge of town Walker stopped, and turned to face the two lads who were following him.

‘I can find my own way home, lads.’

‘Alan told us to see you home safe’ one of them said, smiling. ‘He said that he wanted to be the one to put you in the ground for what you done, personal like. He says he doesn’t want anyone else taking their chance first. Of course if you did try to have a go at us then we’d have to deal with you, right here and now.’

‘You can’t threaten me like this.’

‘No, I’ll think you’ll find we can, Walker. And we are.’

When Terry Walker got in to the house he went straight upstairs. Kylie could tell from his tread that he was sober, and angry. She gave him twenty minutes before she went up to their bedroom.

‘No I didn’t get the bloody milk or the bread’ he said, when she opened the door.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll send one of the kids to the shop in a bit. Is everything all right, Terry love?’

‘It’s Frostick. He wants us out of here.’

‘He’s not the Housing Association though is he, Terry?’

‘It’s not just him. It’s all of them. Not a single one of my so-called fucking mates has been round since I got out of hospital, you noticed that?’

‘I expect they’re busy.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Some of them have jobs, don’t they? And look at you. You’re not working, but you’re still too busy to come to the kids’ sports days and that.’

‘I could talk to Nobby. He could sort it for me.’

It was a long time since Kylie had been surprised by anything that Terry said.

‘Nobby? About what?’

‘I’m being intimidated here, Kylie. That’s not right, is it? I’ve done nowt to anyone.’

‘You’re thinking about grassing on Alan Frostick?’ Kylie sounded anxious, and she was.

‘Not grass, no, never. Not me. I was just thinking about having a chat, see if Nobby can help at all.’

‘Do you think he’d want to?’

Terry thought about it for a while. ‘Got to, hasn’t he? I could probably put in a complaint if he doesn’t do owt.’

Kylie didn’t look convinced. ‘You know best, love, but why not sleep on it? This is our home too, remember that.’

Terry sat up on the bed.

‘So you think this is all my fault too, do you?’

‘Of course not, love.’ Kylie tried to come up with someone or something else to blame, but she couldn’t. So she closed the door and went back downstairs.

Tony Sheridan took Hall and Jane out for lunch.

‘This is nice’ said Hall, thinking that the place was actually a bit noisy and sterile looking.

‘The Super wanted me to say how grateful we are for everything you’ve done to help.’

‘But we haven’t laid a finger on Cafferty or any of his people. He’d have been more inconvenienced by a parking ticket.’

‘So you don’t think we’ll find Alison?’

‘Before he does? That depends on whether or not she wants to be found. And that’s why we want to understand her properly. Are you sure she wasn’t having a fling with Murphy?’

‘Pretty sure. They were being super, super discrete if they were.’

‘And nothing else in her private life?’

‘No. She was the most organised person I’ve ever come across. If she died tomorrow her affairs would be in perfect order, honestly.’

‘So blackmail then? Or possibly some other kind of threat?’

‘Both possible, and you’re welcome to go through everything we have on her, because we’re none the wiser. It just couldn’t be more out of character, getting involved in all this. She must have known how heavy-duty it was, right from the off.’

‘So our Super was doubly unlucky’ said Hall, ‘because it sounds like his judgement of her was essentially correct. She was as straight as a die, until whatever happened to change the habits of a lifetime. But tell me this, Tony, do you think she had an escape planned out? In case she was tumbled, I mean. If she’s that organised then she must have had, and that might tell us where she’s gone.’

‘I’d say she would have as well’ said Jane. ‘But if that’s right, then why did she end up doing that strange loop back into Cumbria on the day she bolted? Grange isn’t exactly the best place for a fugitive to vanish, is it? So did she meet someone, either there or maybe afterwards, before she put her plan in to practice?’

‘We’ve got no evidence of that’ said Tony Sheridan. ‘I’d lay odds that she was acting completely alone, and still is.’

‘Tell you what’ said Hall, ‘let’s just enjoy our lunch for now, and then me and Jane will take another look through everything you’ve got on Alison. By the way, had she been on holiday recently?’

‘I don’t know’ said Sheridan. ‘That’s a good idea. Maybe she has a regular haunt. We can check when we get back.’

But when they got back to the office they all forgot to ask, and even if they had it wouldn’t have helped them find Alison Thornton, or even to understand her motive. Because the small Italian villa that she now owned wasn’t in her name, and no money had passed through her bank account. And on that particular afternoon it was actually warmer in Liverpool than it was in Sienna, and a cold wind was blowing ripples on the surface of the empty swimming pool.

Monday, May 20th

Ian Mann had to force himself not to arrive too early at work, but he needn’t have worried about looking too much like the new boy. It took him twenty minutes to get through the car park and past the front desk, because everyone wanted a word, and to say how pleased they were to see him back. In Mann’s experience good coppers make bad bullshitters, so he reckoned that the best wishes were sincere. But he didn’t expect the Super to be anything like as pleased to see him back.

In fact, Robinson was fine, although he seemed rather distracted. He returned Mann’s Warrant Card without ceremony, went through the various points that HR had asked him to make, including the date of his psychological evaluation, and then he asked what Mann would be working on.

‘I think the DI wants me to take a fresh look at the Alison Thornton thing, see if I notice anything.’

Robinson nodded sadly. ‘I’m afraid that particular bird has flown, worse luck.’

Despite being suspended Mann knew all about Robinson’s involvement in Alison’s recruitment as a Special, but he knew better than to say as much.

‘Well I mustn’t keep you, Ian, and welcome back. I must be honest and tell you that your chances of any further promotion have undoubtedly been damaged by what happened at the Abbey, and the death of those two men will remain on your conscience, I’m sure.’

Mann was tempted to say something, but he didn’t. Some of his officers in the Marines had been right toffee-nosed tossers, and he’d soon learned when to keep his mouth shut. He could feel his Warrant Card back in his pocket, where it should be, and he’d have forgotten anything that the Super said before he was out of the door anyway. So he nodded non-commitally, and made for the door.