Separated at Death (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  Hall and Mann followed at a respectful distance, and sat at the back of the chapel. Robinson arrived a few minutes later, and joined them. The chapel was filling up, and many of the teenagers were wearing their school uniforms. Hall found this almost unbearable, and made him think about his own daughters.

  When the coffin passed them Hall tried not to look, and the brief service passed by in a blur. The Police officers waited until everyone had left, and then filed out. John Hamilton shook each of their hands, then took Hall aside.

  ‘Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to. We’re grateful that you found out what happened to Amy.’

  ‘We got lucky.’ Hall regretted using the word as soon as he said it. ‘How are you all? How is your mother?’

  Hamilton shook his head. ‘She’s in a shocking state. To try to come to terms with the fact that her own son killed her grand-daughter, well it’s not really possible, is it?’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘Carry on with work, try to do the best for Lucy, the usual. I’m not sure that there’s anything else I can do that won’t make things worse. It’s funny, but you go through life thinking that you can influence things, control them, and then something happens that proves that you can’t control anything that matters. It’s just about trying to make the best of everything for your family, isn’t it?’

  Hall nodded.

  ‘Are you able to come back to the house? You are very welcome you know.’

  ‘I think my boss is going to look in. But I have to get back to the station. Work, you know.’

  Hall didn’t feel embarrassed about his lie. He knew that he couldn’t face the family, and he was never all that comfortable in social situations anyway, even in infinitely happier circumstances.

  ‘There was one thing I wanted to ask you actually’ said Hall, ‘would you mind? I know this isn’t really the time or the place.’

  ‘That’s OK, we have a minute or two.’ John Hamilton nodded in the direction of the stragglers, still coming out of the chapel and looking at the huge piles of flowers for Amy. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I just wanted to ask something, off the record. If you’d known about your brother’s involvement with the drugs trade, and the fact that he was trying to blackmail your ex-wife, would you have come to us about it? If not, what would you have done?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’d have to think about it. But I certainly wouldn’t have gone to the Police, not until all other avenues were exhausted. I’d have done my best to get Simon out of whatever trouble he was in.’

  Hall nodded. He wasn’t surprised, and knowing for sure didn’t make him feel any better. He doubted that it would help John Hamilton much to know why he’d asked either, so he didn’t tell him. Hall shook hands with Hamilton, offered his condolences once again, and met Mann back by their cars.

  ‘Drink, boss?’

  ‘No thanks Ian. Let’s organise a proper session for everyone next week, they deserve it. I’m going to go home and put the Christmas tree up finally. The kids are too big to bother with that sort of thing now.’

  ‘Isn’t that one of your wife’s duties?’ laughed Mann. ‘That’s woman’s work, surely.’

  ‘You’ll go far in the twenty-first century police force Ian. They love that kind of attitude now. Actually, Carol has moved out. She went this morning.’

  Mann was surprised. Nothing in Hall’s manner had given him the slightest indication. ‘I’m really sorry to hear that mate. Is she taking the kids?’

  ‘Thankfully not. They’re staying with me.’

  ‘That’s great. Is this something you want to keep between us, or is it best to get it out there? Let the ladies know that Mr Andy Hall is back on the market.’

  Hall desperately wanted to say that he didn’t want anyone to know, and that his wife might change her mind. But he knew that she wouldn’t.

  ‘Hardly on the market, on the scrap-heap more like. But it’s not a secret, people will have to know eventually anyway.’

  ‘And are you sure that I can’t tempt you to that drink? Pie and a pint somewhere might be just the job.’

  ‘No, honestly, I need to get back home. Like I said, let’s do something next week.’

  The two men shook hands, as if coming to an agreement on something, and got into their cars. Both had backed into their parking spaces, and they watched as the funeral cars pulled away. As the first car drove past Hall saw Hamilton looking towards him, but if he noticed Hall he didn’t show it. Hall couldn’t be sure, but he thought he could see the tears running down his face. But it might just have been rain on the window.

  Hall sat for a minute with the engine running, and looked for a CD. When he found it he slid it in to the player and listened as Ian Dury started to singSweet Gene Vincent. Hall turned it up when the rock ‘n roll piano came in, and drove to the place where, every year, he bought the family Christmas tree. And, just like every year, he drove home with the top sticking out of the side window and needles falling into the rear footwells. He made a promise to himself that this year he’d clean the carpets before Easter.

  The resinous smell reminded Hall of all those Christmases when the children were small, and when he reached home he was glad to be faced with the problem of finding the box of decorations and lights in the garage. He carried everything into the house, and got changed. Then he made himself a coffee, and he set to work.