Nothing but Trouble (10 page)

Paige Fielding’s stall was at the far end of the market. As they jostled their way through the densely packed crowds, Jess
revealed what Maggie had told her about Stella Towney and her daughter Clare. When she came to the end of her story she looked
up at Harry. ‘Quite a coincidence, don’t you think, Clare coming back to Kellston just as all this bad stuff starts happening
to Sam.’

‘So now you’ve got her down as your number-one suspect.’

She could hear the cynicism in his voice and frowned. ‘As
a
suspect,’ she corrected him. ‘I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? She works in the same place as Becky Hibbert, which is
how she could have found out about the article. And after what happened to her mum post-trial, she could be worried about
history repeating itself.’

‘But why pick on Sam Kendall to warn off? Why not Becky or Paige?’

Jess thought about it for a moment. ‘Maybe Becky told her that Sam was my main contact. After all, Sam was the one who put
me in touch with the other two, so perhaps Clare thought
if she could scare her into keeping quiet the others might follow suit.’

‘Sounds pretty thin to me.’

Jess, disappointed by his negative reaction, gave a light shrug. ‘I still think it’s worth pursuing.’

‘You should be careful. You can’t start hassling her without any evidence.’

‘No one said anything about
bassling,’
she replied indignantly. ‘What do you take me for?’ She didn’t wait for an answer before adding, ‘But you’ve got to admit
that she does have a motive.’

Harry gave a small lift of his eyebrows as if to imply that he didn’t have to admit anything of the sort. ‘All I’m suggesting
is that you tread carefully. From the sound of it she’s had a rough ride. You don’t want to go making matters worse.’

‘I don’t intend to,’ she said. Although disappointed by Harry’s lack of enthusiasm, she wasn’t deterred. She was still convinced
that she was on the right track. Once she’d worked out the best approach, she’d go round to Palmer Street and put some questions
directly to Clare Towney. Jess had a nose for the truth, and if the girl
was
guilty it wouldn’t take her long to discover it.

Eventually they fought their way through to Paige Fielding’s pitch. Her stall was on a corner and was covered with a blue-and-white-striped
awning. From it she flogged a multitude of cheap kitchen goods: pots and pans, cutlery, crockery, colanders, sieves and plastic
food containers.

‘That’s her,’ Jess said to Harry, pulling him aside for a moment. ‘The one in the turquoise vest.’

She couldn’t see his eyes – they were still hidden behind the dark lenses – but she was pretty certain that he was making
a rapid assessment of the woman she had pointed out. Paige was a tall, big-breasted girl with sharp features and long brown
hair.
There was a heavy gold chain around her neck, a jangle of gold bracelets encircling her wrist and several gold rings on her
fingers. She was sporting a deep, artificial-looking tan that had probably come out of a spray can.

‘Okay,’ Harry said. ‘Let’s do it.’

Paige was serving an elderly lady as they walked up to the stall, packing a selection of items into a carrier bag and totting
up the price as she went along. When payment had been made and the customer had left, she turned her head to smile at Jess.
As recognition dawned, the smile instantly vanished.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ Paige said coldly. ‘What the hell do you want?’

‘A word,’ Jess said.

‘I’m busy.’

Jess made a show of looking around. There was no one waiting to be served, no one even browsing. ‘It won’t take long.’

‘I’ve already told you. I ain’t interested. Just leave me alone.’

‘Five minutes,’ Jess said. ‘That’s all I’m asking. I only want to know why you changed your mind about the article.’

Paige put her hands on her hips and glared at her. ‘Got a right to do what I like, ain’t I? It’s a free country.’

‘Sure,’ Jess agreed. ‘But a few weeks ago you were well up for it, couldn’t wait to get started, and now … Come on, Paige,
you could at least tell me why. It’s not too much to ask, is it?’

For a few seconds Paige appeared to be thinking about it, but then she leaned across the stall towards Jess, her eyes hard,
her lips tight and grim. She barely opened her mouth as she hissed out the words. ‘Look, you bitch, what don’t you understand
about
leave me alone
?
Get the fuck out of my face or you’ll be sorry you ever met me!’

‘Hey,’ Harry said. ‘Cool it, yeah? There’s no need for that kind of talk.’

As if only just realising that he was with Jess, Paige’s eyes flicked warily in Harry’s direction. ‘And who the hell are you?’

‘My name’s Harry Lind.’

Paige looked him up and down before saying sneeringly, ‘You the filth? You look like the filth.’

Jess wondered what it was that so readily identified him to Paige as a policeman – albeit an ex-one. If she herself hadn’t
already known about his former career, it would never have occurred to her. Maybe it was some sort of aura that was only obvious
to those who made it their business to be able to spot a copper at a hundred paces.

‘Actually,’ Harry said, ‘I’m a private investigator.’

As if this was barely one step removed from the law, Paige gave a contemptuous grunt. ‘Stay out of it. This is none of your
business.’

‘Someone’s made it my business.’

‘Oh yeah? And who would that be, then?’

Harry gave her a thin smile. ‘Look, you don’t want us here. We don’t want to be here. So why don’t you do us all a favour
and tell us why you’ve decided to pull out. That way we can all get on with our lives.’

‘I changed my mind,’ Paige said stubbornly.

‘Did you?’ Harry said. ‘Or did someone change it for you?’

‘I dunno what you’re talking about.’

Jess had noticed the tiniest of hesitations before Paige’s response. It wasn’t marked, but it was enough for her to be sure
that the girl was lying. ‘Do you really want to be an accessory to death threats, to criminal damage?’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Paige snarled. ‘I ain’t done nothin’. Whatever you’re trying to pin on me …’ She shook
her head. ‘I’m not having it, right?’

‘If you’re covering something up, it’s going to come out eventually. You can count on it.’

Paige’s expression grew even darker. ‘Just fuck off,’ she said. ‘Fuck off and leave me alone.’

Jess might have stayed and tried to push her further, but she felt the pressure of Harry’s hand on her arm.

‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘We’re wasting our time here.’

Reluctantly, Jess allowed him to pull her away. As they moved back into the crowd, she gave one last glance over her shoulder.
Paige already had her phone pressed to her ear. The girl’s left hand was bunched into a fist and she had a face like thunder.

‘Well,’ Harry said, ‘that went well.’

‘She’s lying.’

‘Of course she is, but the question is why.’

‘Because she’s up to her neck in it. She’s either been threatened or bribed and my money’s on the latter. Did you notice all
the bling she was wearing? You don’t get that from flogging pots and pans twice a week on Kellston market.’

‘Maybe she’s got a rich boyfriend.’

Jess gave a snort. ‘She hasn’t. She’s shacked up with a lowlife called Micky Higgs. He’s a small-time dealer who works at
the Lincoln Pool Hall. No, I reckon she’s been paid off.’

‘So what are you thinking? That Clare Towney has been flashing the cash, making sure that no one opens their mouths about
what happened in the past?’

She looked at him. ‘Who mentioned Clare Towney?’

Harry gave her a sidelong glance. ‘That’s who you’re thinking, though, isn’t it? Except it doesn’t quite add up. From the
tone of the notes sent to Sam, the perp sounds more like someone who’s angry about what happened to Minnie, someone who’s
got a personal interest.’

‘Clare’s got a personal interest.’

‘You know what I mean,’ Harry said. ‘Someone closer to Minnie. Towney may be less than happy to have the subject raised again,
but why would she accuse Sam of being responsible for Minnie’s death?’

Jess let the question roll around in her mind for a while
before she came up with a suitable answer. ‘Maybe it’s because she’s trying to shift some of the blame from her uncle. I mean,
the girls were the ones who encouraged Minnie to go into the house in the first place. If they hadn’t done that, then …’ She
gave a shrug. ‘I suppose it would never have happened.’

They were silent for a while as they negotiated the rest of the market. The stallholders were packing up, the noise subsiding
and the crowd thinning out. Trade was coming to a close for the day. Jess was the first to speak again.

‘Becky Hibbert may be a better bet. She’s not as tough as Paige. A bit of pressure and she might cave in.’

‘If she knows anything.’

‘She must do,’ Jess insisted. ‘Both of them are involved in this – one way or another. They have to be. Why else would they
suddenly decide not to talk?’ In frustration she slapped the palm of her hand against her thigh. ‘Someone’s got to them, and
I’m going to find out who it is.’

Harry gave her another glance and grinned. ‘You journalists don’t give up without a fight, do you?’

Jess shook her head. ‘It’s not just about the article. It’s more than that. Sam’s a friend, a decent person, and she doesn’t
deserve any of this. Who’s going to help her if I don’t? The police, no offence, are doing sod all about it. She’s out there
on her own and worried sick about what’s going to happen next.’

‘Yeah, I understand.’

Jess wasn’t sure if he really did, but she gave him a nod all the same. She wasn’t sure either if her vehement response was
quite as truthful as she’d been trying to make it sound. Since her major scoop with the Grace Harper story – a child who everyone
thought had been murdered, but who had later reappeared under the name of Ellen Shaw – her reputation had soared, slipped
down a few notches and then gradually plateaued out. Now, all these years later, she was aware that she
needed something good, something better than good, to boost her name and get her back in the game.

They turned into the high street and strolled slowly back to the car park of the Fox.

‘So what next?’ Harry said when they were standing beside the Mini.

She opened the passenger door, bent down and pulled the folder from under the seat. ‘Here,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘This
is a copy of everything I’ve gathered to date. Have a read through and let me know what you think.’

Harry took the file and put it under his arm. ‘You’re going to see her, aren’t you?’

‘Who?’

‘Clare Towney,’ he said.

‘Probably,’ she replied. ‘At some point.’

‘Well, when you reach that point, give me a call and I’ll come along with you.’

‘What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me on my own?’

‘I thought we were in this together,’ he said.

‘We are.’

‘Well then.’

Jess gave in gracefully. She’d have preferred to go solo, but was prepared to compromise if it meant Harry committing to the
cause. ‘Okay, you’ve got a deal. But in the meantime, why don’t you have a word with Kirsten Cope?’

‘I thought she’d refused to see you.’

‘She has. But that doesn’t stop you having a go. She may be more inclined to talk to a private investigator than a member
of the press. Her address and phone number are in the file.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. You fancy a coffee, or do you need to get off?’

‘No, I’d better go,’ she said. ‘But thanks for the offer, and thanks for coming along today.’

‘No problem.’ He waved the file in a gesture of goodbye, then turned and strolled towards the road.

Jess walked around the car but didn’t immediately get in. For a while she leaned her elbows on the warm metal of the roof
and watched as Harry Lind headed towards his new flat. She had a feeling about this case, a gut instinct. There was a can
of worms waiting to be opened, and she was about to start prising off the lid.

Ray Stagg slammed the skinny youth against the wall, hearing the satisfying thud as his body made contact with the brickwork.
‘What have I told you, asshole? You don’t peddle your shit here!’

The boy’s nose was bleeding profusely – it was probably broken – and one of his eyes was almost closed. He stared wildly out
through the other one, a desperate pleading look that only increased Stagg’s determination to finish the job. He put his right
hand tightly around the young man’s throat and squeezed. Leaning into his face, he spat out a warning. ‘No one, d’ya hear
me,
no one
deals in my club. Do you get that? And in case you forget—’

Unexpectedly, the door to the storeroom opened and James Harley-Cunningham walked in. At the sight that met him, his face
paled and his lips parted in shock. He looked from Stagg to the kid and back at Stagg again. Then he quickly closed the door
behind him. ‘For God’s sake, Ray. What’s going on?’

Stagg retained his grip on the youth’s throat as he glanced
over his shoulder. ‘I caught this toerag here trying to deal smack to the punters.’

‘Let him go. That’s enough!’

‘Enough?’ Stagg said. ‘Christ, I’ve barely started.’ He could have carried on, but he preferred to do his dirty work in private.
Regretfully, he released his victim, and the youth slid down to the floor, the breath hissing out of his lungs like a deflating
tyre.

With his arms hanging limply by his sides, James gazed down at the dealer, his hands slowly clenching and unclenching. His
voice, when he spoke again, was hoarse with fear. ‘Jesus, what have you done?’

‘Nothing more than he deserved.’

‘Is he okay?’

‘Let’s hope not,’ Stagg said. ‘Otherwise I’ve just wasted the last ten minutes.’

A low groan came from the floor. At this point Stagg would usually have put the boot in. Instead, he leaned down, yanked the
beaten youth up by his lapels, dragged him over to the back door and hurled him out into the yard. ‘No second chances,’ he
called after him. ‘Next time you’ll be leaving in a fuckin’ box.’