The Frozen Shroud

by Martin Edwards

  At last, the tractor turned off down a muddy farm track. Daniel put his foot down. Optimism surged inside him. At last he was making progress. The truth about the Ravenbank murders wouldn’t stay hidden much longer.

  Hannah savoured the last of her shortbread. The caramel and chocolate gave her a buzz. It wasn’t only outdoors that the fog was lifting. Links between Terri’s death and Shenagh’s were starting to connect in her brain.

  ‘Let’s take Knight first. I hear his wife is very attractive. Yet still he strayed?’

  ‘Leopards don’t change their spots, do they? There are no kids – Melody told Mum that she can’t have them, and presumably they never considered adoption. Oz is a super guy, don’t get me wrong, but he needs to be the centre of attention. An ego that size needs constant feeding.’

  ‘And Quinlan? I thought he was gay?’

  ‘With a civil partnership certificate to prove it. But Quin swings both ways. And he’s not faithful. Not long after he arrived in Ravenbank, he tried flirting with me.’

  ‘But he didn’t get anywhere?’

  He gave her a chilly smile. ‘It’s women who turn me on. Attractive women, like Terri. But I’m sure Quin leads Jeffrey Burgoyne a merry dance.’

  ‘Are you positive that Shenagh had a … dalliance with Quin?’

  ‘Hey, I wasn’t lurking in the undergrowth with a long-lens camera like some paparazzo hoping to catch a celebrity with her top off. Ravenbank is such a tiny place, it’s hard to keep secrets, however much you try.’

  He sighed, as if he had cause to regret it.

  ‘How did that particular secret leak out?’

  ‘Melody Knight overheard a quarrel between Jeffrey and Quin one afternoon when she popped round to their cottage for something.’

  ‘And Melody told you? You’re good friends, I take it?’

  He’d just said how much he liked attractive women. Was it possible that he’d had something going on with Melody? Surely all the residents of Ravenbank couldn’t be shagging each other? The Lakes’ long dark winter nights had a lot to answer for, but there were limits.

  ‘Hey, don’t get the wrong idea. We get on fine, we even indulge in some mild flirting every now and then, but there’s nothing in it. In fact, it was Mum she told. And Mum mentioned it to me.’

  Hannah pictured an elderly crone, outwardly good-natured, inwardly gleeful at any chance to spread a scandal, even if only as far as her own son. Robin seemed to read her mind.

  ‘You mustn’t get the wrong idea about Mum. She’s no blabbermouth. In her book, people should keep themselves to themselves.’

  Hmmmm. Maybe.

  ‘That’s why she agonised over what Melody told her. Much as she liked Shenagh, she was outraged, on Francis’s behalf. I think she even contemplated grassing Shenagh up, but in the end, she decided there was no point. Shenagh would deny everything, and Francis would take her side. It might even have wrecked her relationship with Francis, and she wouldn’t have wanted that. So she just hoped the affair would blow over.’

  ‘Perhaps Quinlan took it more seriously?’

  ‘Not as seriously as his boyfriend, if you ask me.’ Robin grinned nervously. ‘At least it entertained Terri when I told her about all these shenanigans.’

  Leopards don’t change their spots. Hannah remembered wondering if Terri had become romantically entangled with her new boss. ‘I don’t mean to be tactless – but there’s no chance that Terri and Oz Knight might …’

  ‘What are you implying?’ His colour rose. ‘That Oz was shagging her behind my back?’

  ‘He’s a leopard, isn’t he? You said so yourself.’

  ‘You don’t get it, Hannah, do you? Terri and I had something very special. Over the years, we’d both gone down enough blind alleys to recognise the real thing when we saw it. There’s no way she’d have messed about with Oz. Anyway, she worked for him, it would have been unprofessional.’

  Unprofessional working relationships, oh dear. Hannah didn’t want to go there.

  ‘Were you planning to get married?’

  For once, he seemed unsure how to answer. ‘Mum was keen for that to happen. I hear she said something at the party about us getting hitched. But we had no need to jump the gun. She was only just settling herself into the Ravenbank community. Everything in good time.’

  Now for it. Hannah leant forward. ‘In the course of settling into Ravenbank, did Terri stumble onto something which identified Shenagh’s killer?’

  He opened his eyes very wide, and she saw the thought had never crossed his mind until now. He blinked hard, as if calculating odds in his head.

  ‘You think that’s what happened? That she came across some sort of clue, and she was murdered by someone desperate to keep their guilt secret?’

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘I suppose … but Terri never said anything to me.’

  ‘Perhaps she only found out on the day of the party, perhaps after you were taken ill.’ Hannah took a breath. ‘How about you, is there any gossip in Ravenbank about your secrets? Or don’t you have any?’

  ‘Me?’ He sat bolt upright. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You were a young man, roughly the same age as Shenagh Moss. Not bad looking, and unattached. A musician, presumably with a relaxed lifestyle. Didn’t the two of you …?’

  He mustered a grin. ‘Thanks for the kind words. At least – I think I’m flattered. And if that’s a dig about my lifestyle, I can promise I’m no dope fiend. Weed gives me a headache. Though …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Terri smoked the occasional joint. That surprises you? It was one of her darkest secrets, given your job. She said you were a puritan when it came to drugs.’

  Hannah gritted her teeth. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘I liked Shenagh, and she liked me. That’s as far as it went, you’ll have to take my word for it. I’m different from Oz. I was lucky enough to grow up with two parents who were happily married. Mum and Dad were polar opposites in personality, but they were a couple who believed in till death do us part. I don’t believe in breaking up other people’s relationships, and I wasn’t interested in muscling in on Francis Palladino’s territory.’

  Quite a speech. Hannah couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  ‘Very commendable.’

  He didn’t seem offended, even allowing himself a sliver of a grin. ‘Besides, she wasn’t my type.’

  ‘Okay, what is your type? An extrovert like Terri?’

  ‘She was nothing like my previous girlfriends. Apart from anything else, she’d been married three times before. Until now, I’ve steered clear of women who want long-term commitment. Most of her predecessors have been in their early twenties. I guess I was just looking for the right person to settle down with.’

  She wanted to keep pressing him, see if he faltered. ‘And Terri was that person?’

  He hesitated, as if searching for the right form of words. ‘I hoped so. She was easy-going, someone who believed in live and let live. I can’t bear neurotic, frigid women, or predatory types. I don’t wish to be unkind, but women like Melody and Shenagh scare the pants off me. But not literally.’

  In the last few minutes, despite her intrusive questions, he’d seemed calmer, and more candid. No more table-tapping; for whatever reason, he’d relaxed. As if he’d accomplished his purpose in arranging this get together. Had he simply been curious to meet her? He leant back in his chair, curiously pleased with himself. Hannah decided to risk wiping the smile off his face.

  ‘Your mother received a legacy when Francis Palladino died. Such a generous bequest that she could afford to buy you a cottage.’

  Robin’s face darkened. ‘Hannah, please. I’m really disappointed. You are seriously implying that the money gave either my mother or me a motive to get Shenagh out of the way?’

  ‘Only flagging up a question that you’re bound to be asked.’ She gave him a shamelessly disingenuous smile. ‘Giving you advance warning,
if you like.’

  ‘Excuse me for not prostrating myself with gratitude. Better do your research more carefully before you start flinging accusations around. It’s verging on slander. I don’t care about myself, but I won’t have you slagging off my mum. You haven’t the faintest idea about the terms of Francis Palladino’s will, have you?’

  His anger was genuine, no question. A bilious feeling in her guts told her she’d blundered. Risked making an enemy of the man Terri had loved.

  ‘Care to enlighten me?’

  ‘Francis drew up a new will when he fell for Shenagh. Previously, four-fifths of his estate went to charity, and the rest to Mum. In recognition of all she’d done for him, and for Esme. A hell of a lot of money, but he didn’t have any close family. With Shenagh on the scene, he arranged that she’d take half the estate. Mum’s share was unchanged, the legacies to charity were scaled down pro rata. After Shenagh’s death, the original provisions kicked in again. The murder didn’t make a ha’p’orth of difference to Mum financially.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘No, I tell a lie,’ he said fiercely. ‘It made my mother sick with distress, she was so distraught about what had happened. Shenagh was her friend, and Francis she idolised. The poor old boy never recovered from losing the woman he loved. He lost the will to live. Even the poor old family dog died. It was a disaster all round. Satisfied?’

  Ouch. No question about who had seized the moral high ground. Time to beat a hasty retreat. ‘Sorry, but I had to ask.’

  He put his head in his hands. Theatrical, yes, but effective. ‘It’s a mucky job, yours. Terri never understood how you could stomach working for the police.’

  Terri had never said that to her. She knew how much the job meant. And yet his jibe had the ring of truth. It hurt like a poke in the eye, that Terri had confided in a man she’d only known five minutes things that were taboo between two best friends. Hannah dug her nails into her palm. Urging herself not to fall into the biggest trap of all, and succumb to jealousy of Terri’s relationship with this man.

  ‘I don’t like it myself, sometimes.’

  ‘You don’t seem capable of trusting anyone.’

  Twisting the knife, but probably she deserved that. She bit her tongue.

  ‘I trusted Terri. Now she’s gone, I want to find out why she died, and who killed her. If that means asking embarrassing questions, too bad. All I care about is the truth.’

  He looked up, and she saw a teary glistening in his eyes. ‘The truth is that Stefan Deyna killed her. Why can’t we leave it at that?’

  ‘We can’t settle for a solution just because it suits us. Rough on the innocent, but there’s no alternative.’

  ‘There’s no persuading you, is there?’ He shook his head, as if making a decision. ‘That’s it, then. I’d better not waste any more of your afternoon.’

  This time, their handshake lasted a nanosecond. Hannah said, ‘I’m still not clear why you wanted to meet.’

  ‘I only met Terri in August,’ he said. ‘You grew up with her. How I envy you, knowing her since you were both kids. There’s so much I don’t know about her. I hoped we could talk, you could help me fill in the gaps. I was expecting reminiscences, not the Spanish bloody inquisition. Stupid of me, I should have realised a police inspector has different priorities.’

  Hannah glanced outside. The fog was coming down again. Already it was hard to make out the trees on the opposite side of the river. Perched on the beer garden wall of the pub next door, two crows were quarrelling, like an old couple who’d been together too long.

  ‘How well do any of us know anyone else? Another time, when all this is sorted, we can talk about Terri.’

  Almost to himself, he said, ‘I doubt there’ll ever be another time.’

  He moved back onto the piano stool. This time he chose ‘Cry Me a River’, humming softly as he played. Hannah listened to the first verse, before slipping away into the unforgiving cold.

  Daniel’s phone shrilled. He had hands-free, but a lay-by was a hundred yards ahead and he decided to pull up.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Daniel! Thank God you answered!’

  ‘Melody, you sound frantic. What’s the matter?’

  ‘It’s Oz.’ Her voice faltered. ‘I’m so scared.’

  ‘What of?’

  ‘I’m frightened of what he’s going to do.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Hannah rang Fern from her car, and they agreed to meet at Undercrag that evening for a catch up. Hannah offered to cook, but Fern refused to let her go to any trouble.

  ‘You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying what to put on mine. Besides, you’d only make me eat something healthy, and I can’t be bothered to count the sodding calories. Ring for a pizza from that Italian on Rydal Road. Mine’s a Stromboli De Luxe with double pepperoni and garlic bread on the side. Long, long day, got to cater for the inner woman. Must dash, see you later.’

  From her vantage point outside the Sun Inn, Hannah saw Robin Park come out of the Jazz Lounge. The weight of the world seemed to be pushing down on his narrow shoulders as he squeezed into his natty little sports car. Ravenbank was only five or six miles away, and Hannah felt a sudden urge to follow him and see it for herself. She must, she absolutely must, make a pilgrimage to the place where Terri’s body had been found. Not this afternoon, however. The fog would soon return, and she had plenty of work to do before she talked to Fern.

  On the way to Kendal, she replayed the conversation with Robin Park in her mind. If Stefan was innocent, then Robin had to be a prime suspect. If the relationship with Terri had imploded, or if she’d found out something linking him to Shenagh’s death, he might have had a motive for murder. Yet her death seemed to have stunned him, and though he was too self-absorbed for Hannah’s taste, she hadn’t detected a lurking predisposition to the rage and violence necessary for two such brutal killings.

  But, she reminded herself, she’d been surprised once or twice before about what a seemingly decent human being is capable of when pushed beyond endurance.

  She was supposed to progress the Cold Case Review Team’s reorganisation this afternoon, but as soon as she reached the sanctuary of her office, she buried herself in the material Les Bryant had supplied. She wouldn’t have the sanctuary much longer, might as well use it as a bolt-hole whilst she could. She managed twenty minutes’ reading before a bang on the door broke into her concentration.

  Greg Wharf didn’t wait to be invited in, or to take a seat once he’d shut the door.

  ‘Sorry to burst in, but you’ll be receiving an email from HR any minute now, and I wanted to speak to you first.’

  He seemed purposeful yet defiant, as if bracing himself for an onslaught.

  ‘This had better be quick.’

  ‘Fine.’ His jaw was set. ‘In a sentence, I’ve asked to be redeployed.’

  She stared at him. ‘What for?’

  ‘I thought you wanted me to be quick. I’ve said what I came here to say.’

  She groaned. ‘Please, Greg, I’m not in the mood to be messed about.’

  ‘And I don’t want to mess you about, which is why I’m moving on. Lauren was right – hey, I never thought I’d say that. If I go, you’ll be able to keep someone else. Les Bryant is lower cost, there’s no pension to factor in. If I go, there will be no complications.’

  ‘Complications?’

  He gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘You-and-me complications. People are whispering about us already. You’re a detective, you must have picked up on it. My fault, my reputation goes before me. You’ve had enough to contend with, I don’t want you damaged on my account.’

  ‘So this is a noble act of self-sacrifice?’

  ‘Don’t get stroppy, Hannah, I’d rather part on good terms.’

  She counted to ten. ‘You’re a good detective too, Greg. I’d want you in my team any day. What happened the other night doesn’t change anything.’

  ‘It does, actually,’ he said.
‘For me, anyway.’

  ‘What are you talking about? We agreed, we can be mature adults.’

  ‘Yeah, but I thought it over and I realised I’m no good at being a mature adult.’ A glimmer of a smile. ‘That’s the difference between us. Zanny used to complain that I can’t control myself, and for once, she was right. I can’t – but you can, and that’s too much to bear. Okay?’

  Heart sinking, she shook her head. It was very much not okay. But what could she say that wouldn’t send the wrong signal?

  ‘Anyway, HR have put the wheels in motion, so it’s a done deal. Public Protection can’t be that bad, can it?’ He jumped to his feet, pausing as he opened the door. ‘Thanks, Hannah. I mean – thank you, ma’am.’

  Daniel raced along the road to Ravenbank, taking the zigzag bends of the Hause so fast that twice he nearly came off the road as he came over the top and began his descent towards the little church and the valley. No farm vehicles in the way this time, thank God, but the respite from the weather had proved short-lived. Fog was rolling down the slopes of the fells above Martindale, wrapping itself around the scattered farm buildings, fences and huddles of sheep.

  Melody had sounded fuzzy and incoherent on the phone. She’d probably washed down her Rioja with pills to cope with the migraine. All he could make out was that Oz had gone missing, and she feared the worst. Whether she was afraid for her husband or herself, he couldn’t tell.

  The traumas of her youth had left a mark deeper and longer lasting than any of Quin’s bruises. Until now, Daniel had assumed that she and Oz slept together, handily providing each of them with an alibi for murders committed in the middle of the night. But if she wasn’t interested in sex, perhaps they occupied separate bedrooms. In which case …