The Coniston Case (24 page)

‘Why is he still here? I thought he was going to drive away and leave us.’

‘There’s
another
man,’ Melanie explained. ‘I think he must have been waiting in the van all along. I suppose he’s an accomplice of some sort, although there’s been a lot of shouting. Ben’s gone to find out what it’s all about.’

‘Well, it’s lucky for us, then. We can get him to take us back down to Coniston. Kathy can’t possibly walk all that way. Look after her for a minute, okay.’ And she marched over to make her demands, trying as she went to make sense of Baz’s behaviour.

The new man was dark-haired, quite young and dressed in an odd outfit including waterproof trousers and a tweed cap. The cold wind was buffeting him, gaining in force, so they all had to speak louder to make themselves heard. The elemental contribution did much to raise the sense of drama. Daisy’s fair hair was blowing about and Simmy pulled her jacket more tightly around her.

‘Listen!’ Simmy said with an authority she hadn’t known she possessed. The only basis for it was that she was at least ten years older than anyone else present – not counting Kathy. ‘I need to get my friend to a doctor quickly. She’s cold and dehydrated. Since you’ve obviously changed your mind about driving away, you can damn well take her to a hospital.’ She faced Baz full on, prepared to shout him down if he demurred.

‘Fat chance,’ he said. ‘Look.’ And he pointed at the blue van.

It took Simmy a moment to understand the problem. Then she saw that both the back tyres – which were all she could see – were completely flat, the rubber buckled. ‘Oh!’ she moaned. ‘What happened?’

‘This bastard slashed them. Front ones as well.’ He pointed at the new arrival with a shaking finger. He looked very nearly as deflated as his tyres. Only then did she become aware that Daisy was holding the arm of the second man as if trying to stop him from doing something.

‘Who are you?’ she asked him.

‘At a guess, I would say this is Jasper Braithwaite, son of the murdered Tim,’ said Ben. ‘The logo on his vehicle is the giveaway.’

Simmy looked round and saw a battered Discovery with ‘Ambleside Veterinary Group’ stencilled on the side.

‘Why would he slash these tyres, then?’ She stared at the newcomer. ‘You’re DI Moxon’s godson,’ she accused. ‘What would he think of such behaviour?’

‘He’d be proud of me, I should think. I’ve just prevented the escape of a murderer.’ He looked fondly down at Daisy. ‘Isn’t that right?’

The girl let go of his arm and moved out of reach. She addressed Simmy and Ben. ‘I did wave him down, when I saw the Discovery,’ she explained. ‘And asked him to come and help. He’s been out on the fells doing something with sheep.’

‘The tyres?’ Simmy prompted.

‘It seemed a good way to keep him here, without using force,’ shrugged Jasper. ‘He doesn’t seem to be interested in making a run for it. I imagine because he’s got something important in the van that he’d rather not leave behind.’

They all looked at Baz, who seemed to be quietly weeping. ‘My samples,’ he blurted. ‘None of it’ll be any good without the samples.’

Ben approached him. ‘Samples of what? I thought it was all weather data. Wind speeds, temperatures, rainfall – what
samples
?’

Baz gave him a sneering look. ‘It’s nothing to do with
weather
, you idiot. It’s copper. From the mines. I told all those students to check rainfall and the rest, while I was down there finding a whole new seam of
copper
. If I follow the rules, I can claim a percentage of the proceeds. That’s all I need. But nobody in this country can be trusted to follow up on it. I might have to take everything to Argentina, where they’re serious about this kind of thing.’ There was a schoolboy bravado to him, a detachment from reality that made everybody blink.

Nobody spoke for a long minute, while they adjusted all their various assumptions. Then everyone expressed themselves at once. Kathy and Ben were loudest. ‘But what about Joanna?’ demanded Kathy, who had limped over, assisted by Melanie, in pursuit of Simmy.

And ‘So where does that leave the murder in Coniston?’ wondered Ben.

Daisy’s voice broke in. ‘And who sent those flowers to my dad?’

Confusion reigned, with little sense emerging from anyone, apart from Jasper. He looked down at his one-time fiancée and said easily, ‘Oh, that was me.’

Another silence, before Ben said, ‘Explain.’

‘It was just a joke. I’d been chatting to him in the pub, trying to jolly him along, what with the cancer and everything. He was saying he wished Daisy had stayed with me, because he didn’t much fancy being father-in-law to James Goss. He didn’t think solar panels were a very reliable long-term prospect. Anyway, all I meant was to cheer him up, and make him smile.’

‘You wished him good luck in his new job,’ said Simmy slowly.

‘Right. The job of being father-in-law to Goss. It was a
joke
. Why – didn’t he get it or something?’

‘We’re not even sure he ever saw them,’ said Daisy tearfully. ‘He died the day they arrived. He was out when they were delivered. Your dad took them instead. Would he have understood the message?’

Jasper grimaced. ‘Doubtful. He might have thought Jack was trying to get new work, I suppose. He liked to think the cancer could be cured and everything carry on as it was for a lot longer.’

‘Nobody even unwrapped them or put them in water,’ said Simmy.

‘You know something?’ Ben was evidently thinking hard. ‘I’ve been wondering just what happened to suggest
Jack Hayter was missing.’ He looked at Daisy. ‘He never showed for your dinner party on Tuesday night. But
before
that. Wouldn’t Braithwaite have missed him during the day and wondered where he’d got to?’

‘He said he thought he was away on a driving job,’ said Daisy. ‘He was the first person I spoke to on Tuesday. I phoned to ask where Dad was. He said he had no idea.’

‘They might have had a row or something,’ suggested Jasper.

‘Unless …’ Ben looked round at the circle of faces. ‘Unless Hayter did kill Braithwaite, and then saw no option but to kill himself as well. Hasn’t that been the most likely explanation all along?’

‘No, Ben,’ Melanie corrected. ‘The police are sure Mr Hayter died first.’

Ben adopted a stubborn expression. ‘It’s never easy to establish the exact time of death, you know.’

Before anyone could reply, there was a shout from further up the fell. ‘Hey – it’s Wilf and Scott!’ Ben realised, waving a welcoming arm.

The arrival of two more young men galvanised everyone into action. Ten minutes passed in recriminations and theories while Kathy’s injuries remained untended. The fact that she could walk and talk had removed any great urgency from most minds, but Simmy felt bad for letting other matters override her concern for her friend.

Jasper was instructed to drive Kathy, Melanie and Daisy down to Coniston, where help was to be found, both for Kathy and the undrivable Transit van. Kathy had developed a profound case of the shakes, apparently after learning from Melanie that her daughter was in
hospital. What to do with Baz remained unresolved.

Ben hurriedly tried to explain the situation to his brother and friend, but only succeeded in confusing them utterly. ‘Is this bloke a murderer, then?’ asked Wilf, eventually, looking at the thin-faced lecturer.

Simmy and Ben exchanged a glance, and then fixed on Baz. ‘He might be,’ said Simmy, with a frown. So much information had just poured forth that it was difficult to sift through for this crucial fact. ‘But Ben thinks it could have been his lodger after all.’ She held up a finger. ‘Wasn’t there a reason why it couldn’t have been?’

‘The timing probably doesn’t work,’ Ben acknowledged.

‘I didn’t kill him,’ shouted Baz. ‘What reason would I have to do that? I’ve never even
heard
of the man.’

‘We don’t have to stay here, do we?’ asked Wilf. ‘Can’t we walk down to somewhere a bit warmer?’

‘I’m not leaving my samples,’ insisted Baz. ‘You lot can go if you want.’

The three youths blinked at each other, and then turned to Simmy for guidance. ‘Yes, come on,’ she decided. ‘We can’t stand here all day, can we?’

It took twenty minutes to reach Coniston, at a very brisk downhill trot. Baz mutinously watched them go, shaking a melodramatic fist at them every time one of them looked back. ‘It’ll be up to Kathy to decide what happens to him,’ said Ben. ‘She’ll have to press charges against him, with us as witnesses.’

‘You don’t think he killed Tim Braithwaite, then?’ asked Simmy. ‘Even though he’s got that knife?’

‘What’s the knife like?’ asked Scott, who had said very little until then. He was middle-height and fair-haired. His front teeth were overlarge and his ears likewise.

‘Long and sharp,’ Simmy said.

‘Serrated edge?’

‘I don’t think so. Was it, Ben?’

‘N-o-o,’ he said, not quite certainly. ‘Why?’

‘The murder weapon had serrations. I read the pathologist’s report, and he was definite about that.’

Wilf made a hissing noise. ‘Nasty,’ he muttered.

‘He knows a lot about knives,’ Ben explained. ‘Working in a kitchen, see.’

At the Yewdale, where they automatically headed, there was considerable activity in the car park. Almost everyone seemed to have a mobile phone clasped to the side of their head, including Daisy Hayter and a very unexpected DI Moxon. There was no sign of Kathy or Melanie. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked the detective, ignoring his telephone conversation.

He said ‘Hang on a minute,’ and took the phone from his ear. ‘I’m investigating a murder,’ he told her calmly. ‘What do you think?’ And he returned to his mobile.

She rolled her eyes and went to speak to Jasper Braithwaite. ‘What happened to Kathy?’ she asked him.

‘An ambulance came for her. It left five minutes ago. She’s very dehydrated and cold, they said, but no other damage as far as they can tell. Your assistant went with her. Fine girl,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘You let him go, then? The kidnapper?’

‘He’s still with his van, I think. He doesn’t want to leave it.’

‘Not much chance of a low-loader getting up there. Someone’s going to have to take four new wheels in a jeep. Should be me, I guess. Do the cops know he’s there?’

Simmy shrugged. ‘Only if one of you told them.’ She looked at Daisy, who was still talking urgently into her phone.

‘Calling the boyfriend,’ said Jasper. ‘She’s been on the phone for about twenty minutes now, telling him the whole sorry story. She wants him to come and get her, apparently.’

‘Her mother lives round here somewhere,’ said Simmy vaguely. ‘She’ll be all right. I dare say the hotel people are a bit miffed about all this going on in their car park.’

‘They’ll get over it.’

Daisy finally concluded her phone call. ‘He’s almost here,’ she announced, mainly to Jasper. ‘He didn’t want to come at first. Said he’s got too much to do.’

Simmy noted idly that the fiancé must have been speaking on his phone while driving – something she deplored. And yet there often seemed to be little alternative. Very dimly, she recalled a time when people had fixed phones in their cars, and could speak into them without using their hands. Something that had apparently failed to catch on amongst ordinary citizens. Her mother, of course, could remember a time when there was no such thing as a mobile phone at all.

There was a strong sense of anticlimax. The injured victim had been whisked away. The man responsible was weirdly alone on the slopes of the Old Man, guarding his precious samples. Despite all the bustle and phoning, nothing significant appeared to be happening. Ben evidently felt the same. He came over to Simmy. ‘Wilf can take me home, if that’s okay,’ he said. ‘I’m starving. We never got any lunch.’

‘I suppose I should go as well,’ she said. ‘Unless we pop into the hotel for a quick snack?’

He shook his head. ‘Better get going,’ he said. ‘Although I can’t stop thinking about it all. There’s still about fifty unanswered questions nagging at me.’ He rubbed his forehead, as if to stimulate even more thoughts. ‘Baz said none of this was to do with climate. But when he was down here with us, he ranted about a war. What was that all
about, then? Are they fighting a war about copper? I don’t think so.’

‘It doesn’t matter now, Ben. Stop agonising about it.’

Then a throaty engine was heard, slowing down as it squeezed its way into the car park.

‘That’s Jamey!’ cried Daisy, running to the car as if nothing else mattered. A man quickly unfolded himself from the driver’s seat and put his arms around her. He was at least a foot taller than the girl.

Ben spoke, almost to himself. ‘That must be James Goss, Daisy Hayter’s fiancé. The one who sent the flowers to Selena Drury. The one who sells solar panels for a living, and needs all the theories about man-made climate change to be right, or he’s going to find himself in a right old mess.’

‘For the Lord’s sake, what does that have to do with anything?’ Simmy snapped.

Ben looked at her, eyes wide, brain firing on every cylinder. ‘A lot, actually. Pretty much
everything
in fact. Remember we googled Tim Braithwaite, and came up with some vague stuff about carbon dioxide emissions? Well, I looked into it a bit more when I got home. Mr Braithwaite was under a lot of pressure to reassess his findings. He was coming up with all the wrong answers. And our friend Baz up there was trying to help him with his little team of students providing hard data. Amazing what a difference that was making. But mad Baz thinks there’s a great big government conspiracy, you see. He’s convinced they’re out to get him because he’s on the wrong side, same as poor old Braithers.’

‘I thought Baz was just pretending to do the climate stuff, when really he was mining for copper,’ said Simmy.

‘Both. He was into both. The climate experiments were real enough, but he could hardly fail to notice that they were doing them on top of old copper mines. Most likely he went exploring one day and got lucky. He’s a physics tutor. He’ll understand how to spot signs of copper ore.’

Daisy was dragging Goss over to speak to them. He seemed impatient to get back to his car, Simmy thought, giving him a long scrutiny. She was still stumbling through the foothills of Ben’s monumental accusations, and very slowly grasping their significance. ‘You sent those flowers to Selena,’ she accused the man in front of her. She was remembering the long brown coat and the high balding forehead. ‘Why did you do that?’

Jasper Braithwaite was standing equally ruminatively, at her shoulder. ‘That’s not important now,’ he said. ‘The main thing is the cold-blooded murder of my father.’

As if alerted by a loud buzzer, Moxon’s head swivelled round, and his mobile went into his pocket. ‘Goss?’ he said, striding across the five or six yards to the group. ‘James Goss?’

The man bowed his head in acknowledgement.

‘He’s the murderer,’ said Ben, in little more than a whisper. ‘I’ve got it all worked out.’

‘What?’ screamed Daisy. ‘What are you saying? You’re insane.’

‘No, he’s not, Daze,’ said Jasper kindly. ‘It all makes perfect sense. This boy’s a genius,’ he added admiringly.

Daisy clung to her fiancé’s arm. ‘Tell them, Jamey. Tell them they’ve got it all wrong.’

Goss stood tall and firm, chin held high. ‘I’ve nothing
to say,’ he announced. ‘I have no idea what any of you are talking about.’

‘Solar panels,’ said Ben, holding up his left hand and ticking each item against a finger. ‘Braithwaite a climate scientist. Hayter out of the picture, leaving the way clear. When was it, eh? Early Tuesday, is my guess. I bet you knew Hayter was dead by then. You might even have said something to him that drove him to it, sometime on Monday evening?’

‘That’s enough,’ said Moxon. ‘More than enough, to be honest.’

‘No, but …’ Ben persisted. ‘We need to get the whole picture.’

‘Time for that later. Leave it, son. You’ve done your bit.’

Daisy was weeping, not surprisingly. Simmy quailed at the effect Ben’s words must have had on her. But the girl was not silenced. She stared up at Goss’s face with an appalled expression. ‘It’s all true, isn’t it? My dad kept telling you there’d be trouble. He warned you to get out of the solar panels business before it all went bad.’ She shook her fiancé’s arm roughly. ‘But you wouldn’t listen. Just laughed it all off. Until you met Baz and Joanna and started to think it might be serious, after all.’

‘Shut up,’ he told her, yanking her hand away from his arm. ‘Don’t you understand what they’re accusing me of?’

‘James Goss, you are under arrest on suspicion of unlawfully killing Tim Braithwaite,’ said Moxon loudly.

‘No, Uncle Nolan. No!’ begged Daisy.

‘Is he really your uncle?’ asked Ben.

‘Just a friend of the family,’ Moxon replied for her. ‘She’s always called me Uncle.’ He was beckoning urgently
to a pair of uniformed police officers who had been sitting unobtrusively in a car in a corner of the park.

Before they could respond, Goss had taken something from his pocket, and now flicked it open with a shake of his wrist.

‘A knife!’ breathed Ben, superfluously. Simmy and he both backed away, holding onto each other like small children. ‘That clinches it,’ Ben added.

Jasper Braithwaite had not retreated with them. Instead he closed with Goss, snatching in vain at the hand holding the knife. ‘Be careful!’ Moxon shouted at him. ‘Get away.’

Jasper ignored him and the three men were crowded together with Daisy dancing agitatedly around them. Goss was lunging mindlessly, clearly intent on doing as much damage as possible before he was overcome. ‘Jamey!’ Daisy bleated. ‘Stop it. Oh,
please
stop it.’

Shaking off her paralysis, and with no conscious thought, Simmy plunged recklessly into the fray. Where Jasper had failed, she managed to grip the arm behind the knife, and wrenched it sideways. He jerked and writhed and a man cried out in pain. Then Moxon, from a strangely low level, came to her aid, pushing her quarry to the ground and lying across him, leaving Jasper to stamp hard on his arm. The air was full of noise and the smell of male clothes. Hard bodies clashed together. There was something warm in an odd place in Simmy’s middle.

Agonisingly slowly, the parts separated, the picture resolving into its constituent elements. Daisy was squatting on the ground beside the prone body of her fiancé, a uniformed officer beside her. Moxon was kneeling very
close to Simmy, groaning and holding himself very tightly across the chest with both arms. Ben and another police officer were a few feet away, eyes and mouths wide with shock.

‘Get me to a car,’ Moxon ordered his men, who responded with belated alacrity.

‘Can’t you walk?’ Simmy asked him, shaking her head to clear it.

‘I don’t think so,’ he gasped. ‘I’ve been stabbed.’

‘Oh!’ She knelt up to give him a proper look, her own movements jerky and uncoordinated. ‘That must have been my fault.’ She relived Goss’s flailing arm as she tugged at it, the lethal weapon bucking and flashing towards Moxon’s unguarded chest.

‘You … you …’ Moxon was trying to speak to Simmy, but he was obviously having trouble breathing.

‘Shush,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get you fixed. He’s not going to do it again.’

‘You’ve dislocated his arm,’ said Ben admiringly, before coming closer. ‘Simmy …
Simmy?
’

‘I think … it feels as if …’ She looked at a growing patch of blood on her lower left-hand side. ‘I’m bleeding!’

‘Oh, God!’ howled Daisy, not because of Simmy’s injury, it seemed, but simply because she could endure no more.

‘Shut up!’ grated Goss. ‘Just shut your stupid mouth.’ He looked at Ben intently. ‘You were wrong in just about everything,’ he sneered. ‘All that baloney about the solar panels. Nothing’s going to stop the business now. It’s a gold mine.’

‘Not a copper mine, then?’ Ben quipped weakly. His confidence was ebbing rapidly, Simmy noted.

‘Ben,’ she said. ‘Do you think we might leave this till later?’

Goss was sitting up, cradling an arm that certainly looked dislocated. The two policemen were preparing to carry Moxon to their car, leaving the attempted arrest uncompleted. They muttered as to the best means of achieving this, whilst avoiding any risk of further injury. The knife had been abandoned, kicked carelessly under Simmy’s car. She could see it clearly, with blood on it. Jasper was blinking foolishly, kneeling beside his godfather.

Daisy was the first to see the opening. ‘Jamey!’ she hissed. ‘You can get away now, if you’re quick.’ Apparently his unpleasant snarl at her was already forgiven. ‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘I can drive.’

For a moment, he seemed willing to cooperate. He put his weight on his good arm, and started to gather his tall body together in order to stand up. But the long brown coat impeded him and his knees became entangled. He tried again, and then gave up. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to take what’s coming to me. I’m not going to spend years of my life in hiding.’

Ben was standing helplessly over Simmy, too embarrassed to examine her wound. She found herself oddly disappointed in him. They both looked around for help, and believed they’d found it in the shape of Jasper, despite his dazed appearance.

‘Can you go into the hotel?’ she asked him. ‘Find somebody who’s done first aid.’

‘What?’ He gave himself a shake. ‘No. You’re all right. It’s him we need to worry about.’ He indicated Moxon. ‘I need a syringe. Could you get the metal case from the back of my car?’ he asked Ben.

The boy was there and back in seconds, and Jasper revealed an array of medical equipment.

‘I think it’s a pneumothorax,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to release the pressure. He’s not breathing.’ He took a large syringe out of the case, and attached a needle from a sterile pack. Then he tore at Moxon’s clothes. It took him five seconds to locate a safe spot and plunge the point into the man’s chest. Simmy instantly revised her opinion of him, in two opposite directions. Firstly, he had become amazingly capable. Secondly, he had become an object of an irrational suspicion. He was, after all, an unknown quantity. If he could pierce flesh with such unflinching deftness, then that surely meant he could perhaps have stabbed Tim Braithwaite just as easily?
Don’t be stupid
, she admonished herself. The man was a vet. He plunged needles and knives into flesh every day.