‘All right, but get a move on.’
Joni did so. Her driving skills had improved since she’d moved north and her long-instilled London driver’s aggression meant that she encountered few delays. As she went along the narrow country roads, she thought about Moonbeam. What on earth could Michael Etherington have been doing there? She immediately thought of sex. Her mother was shameless about getting men into bed, even in her late fifties, although the last Joni had heard she was working her way through the local male population. She hoped they had joy of her. She suspected Moonbeam took more than she gave between the sheets. Why wouldn’t she as that was her philosophy of life, no matter how much she dressed it up in New Age flummery?
She went along the track, the Land Rover crashing up and down, and stopped behind a squad car at the start of the track that led to her mother’s cottage. Heck and the general were standing by the latter’s Jaguar, talking animatedly.
‘Sir,’ Joni said to her boss.
Heck looked at her guiltily. ‘Ah, Joni. We were minding the times about … er, Corham Rugby Club.’
‘Uh-huh. This is a bit of a surprise.’
Heck nodded. ‘I’m told your mother’s using her powers to help the general find his son’s killer.’
‘Her powers?’
‘That’s right,’ Michael Etherington said. ‘She has quite a reputation.’
‘You can say that again. You don’t seriously believe in that mumbo-jumbo?’
The general gave her a stern glance. ‘I’m prepared to use any means to locate the bastard who killed Nick.’
‘We’re the only effective means,’ Heck said. ‘Right now, something has come to light that DI Pax needs to ask you about. We can do this informally or back at Force HQ.’
‘Here is perfectly suitable,’ the general said, with no sign of concern. ‘What is it you want from me?’
‘The following,’ Joni said, her eyes on his. ‘Where were you on Sunday evening?’
‘You know that. At home with Rosie.’
Joni felt the words raise goose pimples. That was a recent development. Before the disastrous Met operation, she hadn’t been physically affected by blatant lies.
‘General, your daughter-in-law told me that you left home after you’d eaten with her and that you needed half an hour to come back to pick her up later.’ She was glad to see that her words had an effect on Michael Etherington, making him jerk back as if she’d spat in his face.
He stood looking at her, his jaws working. Then he turned to Heck. ‘It’s a private matter.’
‘There’s no privacy in a murder case,’ Joni said, ‘especially not for close relatives of the victim.’
‘What are you suggesting?’ he said, eyes wide. ‘That I killed Nick?’
Joni held her nerve. ‘Your daughter-in-law gave you an alibi for that evening too.’ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Heck step closer. For a few moments, she thought the general was going to hit her, then the tension went out of his body and his shoulders slumped.
‘I … I did ask Rosie to cover for me on Sunday.’ He looked at Heck, cutting Joni out of his confession. ‘You see … I … there’s part of my life that I … that I don’t … didn’t want anyone to know about.’
‘What is it, Michael?’ Heck said, in a low voice. ‘We need to know.’
‘Oh for God’s sake, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. When I … when I was in Bosnia, I came to understand that my men were precious to me. I mourned every loss, every serious injury, I wanted to wipe the blood away myself…’ He shook his head and tears flew into the air. ‘I wanted … I wanted to kiss them.’
Joni kept quiet, aware that any intervention from her would make him clam up.
‘You’re saying you’re gay?’ Heck asked, incredulity breaking through.
Michael Etherington nodded slowly. ‘I didn’t do anything about it until Christine died, but then I needed more than Rosie could give me in terms of emotional support. She was grieving for my fool of a son. So I … I used an internet dating site and I met a man in Newcastle.’ He smiled weakly. ‘He’s a lovely fellow, in his late thirties, calm and considerate. I was there on Sunday evening.’
‘All right,’ Heck said. ‘I’m afraid I’ll need his name and phone number. Address, too.’
The general opened his mouth, but then took out a notepad and wrote on it, tearing off the page and handing it to Heck. He didn’t look at Joni at all.
She didn’t care. She was going to have a serious conversation with her mother.
101
Pete Rokeby went back up to the moors to see if the SOCOs had found anything else. He knew it wasn’t on his list of actions for the day, but he was disturbed by the farmer’s disappearance and thought it wasn’t being taken seriously enough. When he got out of the car, he was buffetted by the wind that was turning the turbine rotors rapidly.
‘How’s it going?’ he asked Yates, the chief technician.
The middle-aged man was on his knees. He pointed to a tyre track. ‘That wasn’t made by the quad bike. I’d say it’s from a pickup, the kind farming types use. The tread’s heavy-duty, but the tyre isn’t particularly wide. We should be able to get a decent cast.’
Pete Rokeby nodded and went over to the edge of a steep and rocky chasm. It fell a couple of hundred feet and, at the bottom, trees and bushes were thickly clustered around a burn. ‘Think the Albanian woman or the farmer went down there?’
‘Only if they were interested in suicide.’
‘How else can you get off the moor?’
Yates pointed to the east. ‘There’s a track along the fence on this side, then the ground drops. Oliver Forrest’s place is about a mile further on, but before it there are three roads running north.’ Pete followed his arm. ‘The first goes into the National Park, the second leads to the south end of the Favon estate and the third winds down to join the Rothbury road.’
‘So we look for more tracks like this one and see where Forrest’s attacker turned.’
Yates nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. ‘It’s been pretty dry. The roads off the moor are all asphalt. We may not be able to follow him.’
‘Or her. Maybe the Albanian woman laid into them both and took the vehicle.’
‘Could be, DS Rokeby.’ Yates grinned. ‘I’m glad I don’t have to work it out.’
Thanks a lot, Pete said, under his breath. He called Heck Rutherford, but his number was engaged.
102
‘Right, Mother, what the hell have you been up to?’
‘Good day to you, Joni.’ Moonbeam smiled at her daughter across the festooned living room. ‘It’s lovely to see you.’
‘What was he really doing here?’
‘Who, the policeman? Don’t you know? You work with him.’
‘Not the policeman!’ Joni yelled. ‘Michael Etherington!’
‘Sit down,’ Moonbeam said, the smile still on her lips. ‘You’re disturbing the spirits.’
‘The spirits.’ Joni shook her head. ‘Do you know what that man’s going through?’
‘Of course. He told me.’ Moonbeam pointed to the papers on the table. ‘I’m working on a spell to help him find the killer of his grandson. Murder always creates a black cloud and it follows the perpetrator around.’
‘Really? That would explain why Hitler’s executioners were all so effortlessly tracked down.’
Her mother ignored that. She had a limited knowledge of history. ‘You’re so set in your ways, Joni. Didn’t that wonderful education teach you to open your mind? Of course, opening your mind isn’t enough. You must also open your soul.’
Joni stepped closer to Moonbeam. ‘You know how open-minded I am. For a start, I turned vegetarian decades before you did.’
‘Ah, that was a terrible mistake on my part. I blame living in the big city. As soon as I came here, I realised how wrong I’d been.’ Moonbeam gave a crooked smile. ‘Then again, the men I was seeing all demanded meat, though not necessarily with two veg.
’
Joni glared at her. ‘I don’t suppose you were extending your favours to Nick Etherington?’
‘The dead boy? No, but I wish I had been. Michael gave me a photo of him for my work. He was beautiful indeed.’
‘What about the general? Any hanky-panky with him?’
Moonbeam’s laugh filled the room. ‘Hanky-panky? Honestly, Joni, you sound like your grandmother. Do you mean Michael? I don’t understand titles. Was he in the army?’
Joni had believed her mother concerning Nick, but she was less convinced about Michael Etherington, even after his confession. He’d been married for years. Maybe he was bisexual.
‘Handsome man, though,’ Moonbeam continued. ‘Apart from the awful sadness in his eyes. He told me his son and then his wife died.’
‘And now his grandson.’
‘Life can be very hard for those who disregard the essential equilibria.’
Joni swallowed a laugh. ‘The what?’
‘There you go again, mocking forces you don’t understand.’ Her mother looked severe. ‘Besides, I don’t get involved with paying customers.’
‘Very ethical. Who are you involved with then?’
‘You’ve no business asking that, Joni.’
‘You aren’t usually so reticent. I spent my childhood being regaled with the virtues of numerous men, most of whom disappeared after a week or two.’
‘Yes, well, things are different now. I’ve got a serious lover.’
‘Really? What’s his name? What does he do? Is he married?’
Her mother turned and walked into the kitchen. Joni followed, gagging at the smell from a large pot on the ancient stove.
‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing that concerns you. This is turning into an interrogation. Take your nasty police attitude somewhere else.’
Joni removed a bunch of herbs from one of the two chairs and sat at the rickety table. ‘Sorry. If you don’t want to tell me about your new man, fine.’
‘No, darling,’ Moonbeam said, coming over and taking her daughter’s hand. ‘I do. I will. But not now. These interruptions have caused a disjunction between my being and the…’
‘Essential equilibria?’
Her mother smiled, missing – or ignoring – the irony. ‘If you’d only open yourself to the forces of the cosmos. Joni, I understand you. You’re still hurting from what happened in London. I can help you get over it.’
Joni pushed the chair back hard. ‘I have to go.’
‘Don’t be like that. Come over on Sunday. We’ll have lunch and I’ll introduce you to my man.’
‘Sorry, I’ve got a prior engagement.’ Joni was glad Ag’s invitation meant she would avoid the nut rissoles and over-cooked greenery – some of it bizarre – that her mother would serve. ‘I’ll drop by in the late afternoon. In the meantime, keep an eye out for any strange young women and lock your doors.’
‘Your colleague – Heck, was it? – told me about the Albanian. I’ll sense her long before she comes close, don’t worry.’
Joni raised her eyes to the ceiling and promptly wished she hadn’t. What looked like a fisherman’s net had been strung from the corners and was weighed down by decaying creatures. There were rats, crabs, a squirrel, even a bat.
‘Lovely.’
‘The physical envelopes of creatures who have passed on have a certain value to my craft,’ Moonbeam said. ‘If you’re wondering, they were dead when I acquired them. I told your colleague. You know, he has a great sadness in his eyes too and his body has been broken. I can help hi—’
‘I know, Mother. You can help everyone. Unfortunately, when I was a kid, you forgot to help me.’
For once Moonbeam was silenced.
Outside, Joni looked around. She was tempted to go over to the outhouses – the nearer one had definitely been renovated since she’d last been there – but she didn’t want another encounter with her mother. The sound of Joni Mitchell’s plangent voice from the open window confirmed that decision.
103
Heck was up on the moor with Pete Rokeby and the SOCOs. He’d spoken to the DS and decided that what he was doing warranted support. Clouds had come out of nowhere and it was drizzling.
‘Great,’ he groaned. ‘How are those moulds?’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Yates said. ‘This stuff’s waterproof.’ They had located another tyre print a few yards beyond the first.
‘Aye, but anything else’ll be obliterated if this gets worse.’
‘Something wrong, sir?’ Rokeby asked.
‘Well, I’m not exactly jumping for joy about the way things are going, Pancake.’ Heck pulled the cord of his rain-jacket hood tighter. ‘There’s no sign of Suzana what’s her name, Michael Etherington claims he’s using a witch – Joni Pax’s mother, no less – to find his grandson’s killer and a chap I was at school with has disappeared.’
‘This Forrest fella,’ Pete said. ‘I hear he has an eye for the ladies.’
Heck gave him a suspicious glance. ‘Who told you that?’
The DS grinned. ‘I need to protect my sources, sir.’
That got him a glare, but it was short-lived. ‘Aye, well it’s not exactly a state secret.’ He shook his head. ‘I was at prep and senior school with him. He was never one to pass up an opportunity to play with other boys’ cocks. He moved on to girls as soon as he could and he’s been playing away ever since. I don’t know how Lizzie stands it. Then again, maybe he’s changed. I haven’t seen much of him since I hooked up with Ag. She took one look at him and knew exactly what he was. Won’t have him in the house.’
‘I was thinking,’ Pete said, turning his back to the rain. ‘Maybe he was chasing the Albanian woman. There wasn’t a sheep anywhere near here yesterday.’
‘You might be right, Pancake, but it doesn’t get us anywhere. There’s no sign of her and I don’t fancy asking Lord Nose in the Air for leave to search his estate on the off chance. He’s got friends in high places – including the chief constable.’
‘Yes, but maybe one of the estate workers kidnapped your pal Forrest.’
‘We can have a go at checking his people’s vehicles when the prints are ready, though I doubt it’ll be worth it. With the kind of legal firepower he can afford, we need much more evidence. It would be easy enough for an expert witness to cast doubt on how recent the tracks are. This is the first soak we’ve had in – what? – ten days.’
‘Besides, according to Yates, two of the three roads lead elsewhere.’
‘Exactly. I doubt Mrs Normal will want to go into battle with Favon unless we provide her with several pairs of armoured knickers.’
Rokeby laughed. ‘Not a pleasant image.’
‘Sod this. Let’s get into the car.’ Heck led him to the Traffic Division Volvo he’d commandeered. ‘Listen, Pancake, I need to ask you something. You’ve met Michael Etherington, haven’t you?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve seen him a few times. I’ve got a mate who served with him.’
‘Oh aye? What does he say about the general?’
‘Nothing but good things. The best officer he ever worked for, tough but fair, always thinking about the men, cool under fire. I remember he was really pissed off when he heard General Michael had been taken off operational service. Said it was a disgrace and a terrible waste.’
Heck watched as the SOCOs collected up their gear and carried it back to the van. ‘Speaking of disgrace, did your pal ever mention anything about the general’s sexual um … proclivities?’
‘No.’ Rokeby stared at him. ‘You’re not saying he’s gay?’
‘What makes you think that?’ Heck said, looking away. ‘He could be a serial shagger like Ollie Forrest or an S&M type.’
‘I’ll tell you exactly why I think that, sir,’ Pete said combatively. ‘Because you’re asking me.’
‘Right enough. Don’t get uppity, lad. I just wondered if you’d heard anything. Or noticed anything.’
‘What, you think we
have antennae that pick up signals from other poofters?’
‘Er, not exactly.’
‘Not exactly, but sort of?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’
Pete was shaking his head. ‘No, my mate never said anything. No, I never clocked anything. And no, we don’t have antennae – at least, no more than you heteros have when you zero in on women.’
‘It’s been a long time since I did that.’
‘You’re not getting away so easily, sir. Has someone told you that Michael Etherington’s gay?’
Heck nodded. ‘He did, actually. Gave us the contact details of his lover in Newcastle too. DC Andrews is checking him out as we speak.’
Rokeby sat back. ‘Does this have any connection with the death of his grandson?’
‘It’s how he explains what he was up to on Sunday night. Joni broke his alibi this morning. His daughter-in-law covered up for him.’
‘Do you think he might be being blackmailed?’
‘I don’t know, Pancake. He didn’t admit to that. Anyway, why would he care? His wife’s dead and he’s out of the army.’
‘Maybe he was worried what Nick would think.’
Heck took that in. ‘Good point. But I still don’t buy that he was using Joni’s mother to track the killer down.’
‘That does sound weird.’
‘You should see what she looks like.’
104
Joni spent the afternoon going through the statements made by Nick Etherington’s friends. She was still puzzled about the walk they had taken to Burwell Street, apparently led by him. Maybe she was reading too much into it: youthful high spirits, drink (although his friends said Nick had only had three halves of bitter and she herself hadn’t got the impression he was drunk), the desire to slum it, score dope and/ or listen to a covers band in a downmarket pub? Or could he and his grandfather have been up to something more sinister? Eileen Andrews had visited Michael’s lover – a Julian Dorries – who confirmed that the major general was there until after ten on Sunday and that he’d left in a hurry after receiving a call from his daughter-in-law.
Carnal Acts Page 28