Death by Dark Waters

by Jo Allen

  ‘I think Dawn would tell me anything, if she got the chance.’

  ‘Then let’s give her the chance. We can’t do anything until the guys in Manchester come up with something on Flett, preferably the man himself. And we might as well show willing. Be seen to be working hard on a Saturday afternoon.’ And it would give him something to do, rather than sitting around waiting for news and thinking that he might, after all, have been able to sneak out for a couple of hours to see if he could sustain that fragile relationship with his father. ‘I’d even encourage you to let her tell your fortune if you think it would help.’

  ‘She doesn’t tell fortunes. But yes. I’ll come.’

  ‘Okay, then. Let’s go.’

  *

  Something had changed about the Sumners’ house. It took Ashleigh a few moments of polite conversation before she realised that the difference wasn’t psychological, but physical. Silence. There was no thrumming vibration through the old walls, the sound of older-than-her-years Sophie in her natural habitat.

  ‘Has Sophie gone out?’ she asked Dawn as she poured coffee for them in the cool of the living room.

  ‘Yes. But it’s okay. She’s gone out with my sister. She adores Nicole. She’s such fun. And so glamorous.’

  ‘Not as glamorous as my gorgeous wife.’ Max curled strong fingers around his mug of coffee and reached out a hand for a cookie, still warm from the oven. Dawn had, she’d confided, found some consolation in baking.

  Ashleigh took a cookie, too. Max might be protesting too much, and Dawn’s look of surprised gratification certainly suggested that she wasn’t used to such public protests of adoration, yet she sensed that he was a man who truly loved his wife. ‘These are wonderful.’ The cookie crumbled in her mouth. ‘You must feel better for having your sister here.’

  ‘She can be rather overwhelming, can’t she, Max?’ There was a warm smile, but that, too, seemed over-obvious. ‘But it’ll help.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I have to go south tonight to sort out some business and I probably won’t be back until the morning, so it’ll be a weight off my mind knowing she’s here at least until we know that Flett’s in custody and we can all relax. Or have you arrested him already?’ Max moved the conversation on to business.

  ‘Not yet.’ As before, Jude had left the talking to Ashleigh, but Max turned to the senior person present. ‘Our colleagues in Manchester are trying to locate him.’

  ‘Trying to locate him? Has he done a runner?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’d say that. He appears to be away from home, and has been since last Thursday.’

  ‘What, somebody actually noticed that insignificant individual is missing? That business he runs is pretty small and there can’t be much for him to do. I think he’s living off his family’s money.’

  Jude, too clearly suppressing his irritation, managed a smile. ‘Is there any more you can tell us about him?’

  ‘I can give you chapter and verse on the man. I’ve been waiting for some time for him to mount some kind of attack on my business to get back at me, and I was ready to bankrupt him again if I had to. I’ve got my own interests to look out for. It was a clean fight, between Flett and myself, and I’d enjoyed it. Up to this point.’

  ‘That’s quite harsh.’ But Dawn whispered it into her coffee, and a quick look told Ashleigh that neither Max nor Jude had heard.

  ‘When I took over Three of the Best, I fully expected Flett to go to ground for a while and come back at me when he’d regrouped. To start with, it went the way I thought. He set up a company – a paper company, with himself as the sole director and sole employee. That was two years ago. But nothing happened. I keep monitoring it. Every now and again, I check him out. But he’s done nothing.’

  ‘He lives very quietly,’ Dawn supplemented.

  ‘Quietly? Is that what you call it? Skulking in a hole without even the courage to come out fighting because he knows he’ll be beaten? I don’t call that quiet. I call it cowardice.’

  ‘I think that’s harsh.’ She said it again, this time more loudly so that he must have heard her, but he ignored it. ‘You said he doesn’t go out much. That’s living quietly.’

  ‘As far as I know, he does nothing. He certainly doesn’t do what I’d call work.’

  ‘He volunteers with charities,’ said Dawn.

  ‘What sort of charities? And how do you know?’

  ‘I don’t know. And I think I heard it somewhere.’

  ‘It’s no charitable soul that does a boy in.’

  ‘If he did.’

  Max ignored her. ‘And if you want my opinion, Satterthwaite? He’s a man so weak that we’ll never find him. When he murdered my son, he’ll have realised what I’d do to him if I caught him and he’ll have made sure I didn’t get the chance. He’ll have done himself in. I don’t think we’ll ever see him again.’

  ‘That’s what he was like.’ Dawn plucked at the necklace around her neck. In fascination, Ashleigh watched as the Wheel of Fortune turned freely on the heavy gold chain. Where would it stop for Dawn, for Max, for the fugitive Randolph? Where would it stop for any of them? ‘Yes. So true. He could do terrible things when he was angry. But he always regretted them.’

  ‘And he learned you have to pay the price.’

  ‘But he did pay the price. He’s been under a lot of pressure recently. His depression came back.’

  Jude, Max, Ashleigh. They all turned to look at her. As if trapped, Dawn tightened her finger on the necklace. The wheel stopped spinning.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Max’s tone chilled. ‘Have you been seeing him?’

  ‘No. No, of course not.’

  ‘But you keep in touch. You must do. Why didn’t I know?’

  ‘No. Of course I don’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I bumped into him once, in Liverpool. He was there for a funeral. I was sorry for him. I bought him a coffee.’ She turned to Ashleigh, imploringly.

  ‘It was a good thing to do.’ Dawn was like a child, terrified that she’d done the wrong thing, desperate for forgiveness.

  ‘When was that?’ Max jerked his wife back into the debate.

  Jude had sat back now, nodding as he did when the team were hammering out something between them that he’d already thought of. Ashleigh could see what he was doing – letting Max Sumner ask the questions he would have asked, observing the response. ‘It was three weeks ago, maybe?’

  ‘Whose funeral?’

  ‘He didn’t say. I didn’t think to ask. I was in town, with Greg. You can ask—’ She pulled herself up. No one would ask Greg anything again. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘He was on his way back to the station. We had coffee. For old times’ sake. Because I like him and once upon a time I loved him.’

  ‘Ah.’ Max relaxed. ‘You’re too sweet for your own good. I see exactly what he was doing. Sounding you out about our domestic arrangements.’

  ‘Do you think so? He did ask about the house. I told him we were staying up here over the summer. But that was hardly a secret.’

  ‘Did he ask about anything else?’

  ‘He asked a lot. I thought it was nice that he was interested.’ She caught her breath. ‘You don’t think—?’

  ‘You fell for it. Yes.’

  Max Sumner was a cruel man. It was extraordinary. As Dawn’s pale face grew paler, he watched her like a hawk waiting to pounce on its prey. Unable to bear it, Ashleigh pre-empted him. ‘Dawn, of course it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t possibly know.’

  ‘I didn’t. You shouldn’t not do good in case someone does bad to you. Otherwise there would be no good in the world, would there? And we need goodness. Don’t we?’

  ‘Yes.’ Max smiled at her again. ‘You’re quite right. Heap coals of fire upon your enemy’s head. Isn’t that what they say?’

  ‘Listen,’ she said with relief. ‘That’s the door. That must be Sophie and Nicole.’ And Ashleigh saw Jude glance at his watch before he nodded to her, and it was time to leave.

  *
r />   Ashleigh and her boss departed as soon as Nicole arrived. Sophie had fled at the first sight of strangers, disappearing up the stairs to take refuge in the deep beats of her music, and Max headed off shortly afterwards. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. This is something I need to sort out in person. I should have done it earlier, but now that Nicole’s here, I’m a bit happier about leaving you on your own.’

  She clung to him. Max had his faults but she was always happier when he was there than when he wasn’t. ‘Look after yourself. It would be awful if anything happened to you.’

  ‘Nothing will. Trust me. And as soon as the boys in blue pick up that bastard, Flett, it’ll be fine.’

  ‘He isn’t really a bastard.’

  ‘It does you credit that you feel guilty about what happened, but you don’t need to. You know you were right to leave him. The man’s unhinged.’ He kissed her. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’

  When he’d gone down the path, she called up to Nicole. ‘I’m nipping out. I really need some fresh air. I can’t abide the place. Those men on the door and the police around all the time. I’m popping over to a friend in Windermere.’

  Nicole knew her too well, fingered the lie. ‘A friend?’ She grinned.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Anyone I know?’

  ‘No.’ And then a smile. ‘Nic. Promise you won’t tell Max. Ever.’

  Hands on hips, Nicole kept her face severe, but her tone belied her. ‘Dawn Sumner. Are you being a naughty girl?’

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘A fancy man?’

  ‘Shh!’ Dawn put her fingers to her lips. The secret was out, but at least it was held by the one person she could trust to protect it.

  Nicole lowered her voice. ‘It’s okay, sweetie. As long as he’s worth it.’ Her all knowing grin grew wide. ‘Will you be late back?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe. But don’t worry – I’ll stay safe.’

  ‘I bet you will. Good luck, honey.’

  When she’d popped upstairs to say goodbye to Sophie, Dawn slipped out and into her car and checked her phone as she sat in the driver’s seat. Her palms were clammy with sweat. He hadn’t left a message.

  Just leaving,

  she texted, and clipped her seat belt on.

  Laurie gave her a cheery wave as she passed him, the windows wound down to let in the fresh air. ‘I’m off for a drive, Laurie. I won’t be late back.’ Turning out of the gate she drove sedately through Ambleside, over the Kirkstone Pass and down the hill. Parking the car by the Forestry Commission plantation at Brothers Water, she got out and sniffed the air. The rain had cleared and the black mirror of the lake reflected the steep cone of Hartsop Dodd, its edges razor sharp in the warm stillness. A fly hovered too close to the surface of the shallow beck that struggled its summer way through the car park, and a minnow rose and snapped it up.

  At seven o’clock on a Saturday evening there was no one about. Leaving the car, she turned up through the trees, flapping away at a cloud of gnats. On the damp path in front of her, fresh footprints went on ahead in the shade where the sun hadn’t yet baked them as dry as the rest of the ground. She smiled and followed them, stepping into them. When you loved someone, you loved them. You took risks for them. You walked in their footprints and followed them wherever they led you.

  Scrambling over the wall, she almost ran along the path and lost herself in the thick overgrowth. At the turn in the path, in the trees, a flash of movement surprised her. Heart bursting with joy, she moved forward. ‘Randolph!’ she cried, and broke into a run.

  22

  ‘Okay, it’s been a bit of a waste of a day and we probably didn’t all need to give up most of our Saturday afternoons for it. So I’m sorry about that.’ Jude set the drinks out on the table in the pub, and doled them out. Pints for Chris and himself. Orange and lemonade for Doddsy. Cider for Ashleigh. A ladylike gin and tonic for Tammy. ‘But cheers, all. Thanks anyway.’

  ‘It wasn’t wasted.’ Tammy, at least, was cheerful about it. These evenings always followed the same pattern – they’d chew over the bones of the case and then they’d gradually remember that it was an evening off and they were in the pub, and the chat would move on to other things. ‘We know who did it. We just need to prove it.’

  ‘It certainly looks like it.’ And Max Sumner thought so, too, though it was curious that Dawn, the one to experience physical violence at Randolph Flett’s hands, should remain so sure of his innocence.

  ‘Tell you what.’ Ashleigh sipped at her cider, flicked at that curl again. Now he’d noticed it, Jude couldn’t unsee it. Aware of Doddsy’s cool gaze upon him, he tried not to stare. ‘Max Sumner is the toughest man I’ve ever met.’

  ‘That’s a strong statement.’ To avoid looking at her, he picked up his pint and stared into its depths. Chris and Tammy had already got into a conversation about the afternoon’s football results, and Doddsy had turned his attention to ripping open a packet of peanuts which he spilled out on the table between them.

  ‘It’s what I think. I think I almost love Dawn. She’s such a warm person. A really good person, too, trying so hard to please everyone. She’s done bad things – or things that she thinks are bad – and she regrets them. She’s open and honest about it, which is what she should be. And her husband is punishing her all the time for not holding out for revenge the way he does. He’s got no other reason to behave like that. You can tell she loves him.’

  That was astute. It had occurred to Jude, too, that Max Sumner was not only incapable of forgiveness but didn’t understand the restorative effects of it in others. To men like him it was worse than weakness – it was betrayal. ‘I think that, too. And yet all the signs are there that he loves her, too.’

  ‘Yes. I don’t see what’s wrong in admitting that you loved somebody before it all went wrong. That’s a noble and an honest approach.’

  Inevitably, he thought of Becca. That put him on the wrong foot, because wasn’t he the one who couldn’t let go? If it weren’t for his inability to accept that the relationship had run its course, he’d be doing something a bit bolder than fantasising about the way Ashleigh O’Halloran twined a strand of hair around her finger, or staring in fascination at her lips as she sipped her drink. That made him, in a way, as bad as Max Sumner, unable to let someone move on and be at peace with themselves. ‘I can’t argue with that. You love someone, the love dies, you move on and you wish them well as you go.’

  But if he had to put money on it, then he’d say that Becca wasn’t at peace with it, either. That was the problem. It didn’t necessarily mean you turned to murder, but that you ended by living life in misery. He would be over Becca, in the end, and his conscience would allow him to test out Ashleigh’s feelings and see if they went any deeper than the superficial attraction he could see she felt for him. One day it would be a relief to go back to Wasby with another woman on his arm and not care whether Becca saw him, not be on constant watch for her to come over and give him a piece of her mind over something that was no longer any of her business. Maybe it wouldn’t be Ashleigh but one day, from the security of a new relationship, he’d feel towards Becca the way Dawn felt towards Randolph.

  ‘Then again.’ Ashleigh picked up a few peanuts, popped them in her mouth and licked her fingers. Jude, turning away with an effort, caught Chris looking at her, his face showing exactly the same fascination. ‘I don’t think he’s a bad man at heart. That’s what I don’t understand.’

  ‘Good people do bad things, especially when they love someone. Haven’t you learned that from your career in the force yet?’

  Doddsy, by now, had edged himself into Chris and Tammy’s conversation and they were arguing about which manager should be first for the sack. Jude moved closer to Ashleigh, inhaling her scent over the stale beer air of the pub. If you were going to suffocate in some airless room, you might as well do it under the illusion of pleasure.

  ‘I have. But I’ve n
ever come across something like this before. Because he’s a cold man, and yet you’d say he adores her and she adores him. But at heart, it’s as if they just don’t understand one another.’

  ‘If we were all perfect, we’d all be happy, wouldn’t we?’

  ‘Who says we aren’t?’

  He looked at her for a moment. She was never shy of challenging anyone, and something about her compelled him to pick up the gauntlet. ‘Well, are you? With an estranged husband in the background?’

  She paused a moment. ‘Did I tell you that?’

  ‘You must have mentioned it.’ She hadn’t. He’d seen a mention of it in the reference from her previous employers.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t remember doing that. Not that it’s a secret. And since you ask, I’m not unhappy. I’m happy with where my life is going and I’m happy that I’m in control of it. I don’t think you can ask for more. But you?’

  ‘Yes. I’m perfectly happy.’ He sat back a little, avoiding her gaze so he couldn’t see her recognise the lie. ‘Look around you. These guys are my tribe. This is where I’m happy. With the people who trust me. Not out where people don’t understand what I’m trying to do for them.’

  Ashleigh swept a cursory glance around the pub, a magnet for thirty-somethings spoiling themselves with the gastro pub menu, already checking their phones for messages from the babysitter. ‘You mean your kid brother?’

  ‘Yes.’ Though it wasn’t just Mikey, still punishing him with his silence and a refusal to respond to his texts, but his father, professing disappointment in him though he’d been the one to walk away, and Becca, who’d let him down.

  ‘But you wouldn’t change what you did. It was the right thing to do. If anyone did wrong it was the senior officer who thought it was easier to punish the people at the bottom of the heap, rather than go after the ones at the top.’

  ‘Possibly. But if I’d thought about it, I might have worked out that that would happen. And maybe then I’d have tried a bit harder to find another way to resolve it. It was a mistake.’