by Jo Allen
‘He did. Chris confirmed the times. He’d have had to go hell for leather on the motorway and gamble that he didn’t get caught.’ Doddsy shook his head at the unfurling of the story. ‘There are two things, though. Two that we need to sort out. How did he dispose of the car, and why did he do it? Because if you’re suggesting he murdered his son to punish his wife, then we’re dealing with a madman.’
*
‘Come on, Sophie!’
‘Don’t hassle me, Auntie Nic. It’s only half past nine. There’s no rush.’ Sophie, tousled and surly at being hauled out of bed before she was ready, dragged her feet and hunched her shoulders. Her petted lip gave away her hidden misery. When she was ready to open up, Nicole would be there.
Hurry up. Making allowances for the circumstances, Nicole did her best to appear calm and unruffled. ‘I thought we could go out for breakfast, as a special treat. There’s a place in Ambleside that does pancakes and maple syrup. How about that?’
‘Mum used to make pancakes on my birthday.’ The child’s face crinkled into tears.
‘Oh, sweetie.’ Nicole crushed her in a hug, much shorter than she wanted it to be. When she got Sophie away from the vengeful remnant of what had been her happy family, she’d give her all the love, all the time, all the patience she needed. Right now, she had one thing on her mind and one thing only, and that was getting the little girl out of the house. ‘Come on.’
‘I need to charge my phone.’
‘Bring your charger. We’ll see if we can charge it in the cafe.’ A quick glimpse in the mirror showed Nicole that she looked even worse than she might expect for a woman picking up the pieces after her sister’s murder. That was because she’d spent the night lying awake waiting for Max’s step at the door, in case he’d guessed what she knew and come to silence her.
Common sense reasserted itself. She knew her brother-in-law well, and he used time to his advantage. He wouldn’t be rushed into doing something that would incriminate him, or be panicked into abandoning a plan unless he had no options left, and Nicole’s death would achieve nothing.
Sophie, she now believed, was a different matter. If there was one thing she wished she’d done it was tell Ashleigh what she knew, but she hadn’t dared. Max might be out, but, with the security men reappearing at the front and back of the house, who knew what other measures he might have taken? She wouldn’t be at all surprised to find the property was bugged and that poor Dawn had had no secrets.
Max was out, though she hadn’t heard him go and didn’t know when he might be back. Though she believed time was on her side, she didn’t want to take any chances. Ashleigh, with her instinctive sympathy and police training, would understand her dilemma and know how to deal with it. ‘At last. Come on. Let’s go.’
Ambleside was busy. She parked in the main street – a lucky spot of a parking space that was too tight for a larger car and only just big enough to squeeze her Mini into – and hurried Sophie up to the cafe. ‘In we go. Ashleigh will be along in a minute.’
‘Why couldn’t she come up to the house?’
‘I thought it would be nice for you to get out.’ Nicole flopped into a seat with relief, staring out down the street to see if she could spot the blonde head coming towards her. They were early. She ordered coffee for herself and the pancakes and maple syrup for Sophie and sat back, fanning herself with her hand. ‘Darling, I’ve had an idea. Would you like to come and stay with me and Uncle Phil for a few days? Pippa’s back from university for a couple more weeks, and she could take you pony riding. It would be a treat for you.’ And it would buy them all some breathing space once she’d passed on her warning and the police had decided what action to take.
Sophie nodded. ‘There’s Ashleigh now. Look.’
Thank God. Nicole felt relief flood through her. ‘Oh, lovely. Do you think we should order her some coffee? Or a cold drink?’
‘I don’t know.’ Sophie, truth be told, didn’t seem that interested in Ashleigh. ‘Look. She’s with Daddy.’
Max was barely twenty yards away, stepping back from a shop window he’d been staring into. Turning, as if it was quite a casual encounter, he saw Ashleigh and engaged her in conversation. For a second they stood together on the pavement and then, dashing Nicole’s hopes, the two of them walked up the street and into the cafe.
‘Look who I just bumped into!’ Max beamed at them. ‘And now I’ve stumbled on the two of you, as well, sneaking out for a treat without telling me. You won’t get away with putting one over your old dad like that, Soph. I could murder a cake.’
I’m paranoid, Nicole chided herself, shivering at the loaded imagery as her chance of private conversation with Ashleigh evaporated. But it was fine. He didn’t know what she knew and there would be plenty of opportunity to explain it to Ashleigh later.
*
‘Mr Sumner isn’t here. You’ll have to come back later.’ Laurie stepped into the middle of the path, folding his brawny arms as he blocked Jude and Doddsy’s progress.
‘Where is he and when will he be back?’
Laurie, both bad tempered and fearful as two marked police cars pulled up outside, spat on the ground at Doddsy’s feet. ‘I’m just the hired help. He doesn’t tell me his business and it isn’t my place to ask.’
‘And Ms Underwood and Sophie? I take it they’re also out?’
‘Yeah.’ Laurie’s bravado faded.
‘With Mr Sumner?’
‘No. They went out later.’
‘Good. I’ve a warrant to search Mr Sumner’s property.’ Jude felt inside the pocket of his jacket for the comfort of officialdom. Laurie had no right to see it, but it was good to know it was there. If he’d got this wrong there would be hell to pay. ‘Do you have a key? If not we’ll have to force entry.’
The man looked at him for a moment, then felt in his pocket for a bunch of keys. ‘If you’re going to arrest my boss, then I reckon I’m out of a job. I’ll take myself off.’ He sidled down the path to find it blocked by two policemen.
‘I don’t think so. I’d like to ask you a few questions yourself, later on,’ Jude said to him, with the politest smile. ‘And your friend. About how the two of you acquired and disposed of a white Ford Fiesta for Mr Sumner, as part of your duties.’ An uncharitable sense of satisfaction rose within him as he watched the anchor tattoo darken on Laurie’s thick neck as the blood ebbed from beneath it.
‘I never hurt anyone.’
‘I never suggested it. But you’ve played your part in protecting someone who did.’ Jude didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him before. No wonder Sumner had been so reluctant to accept police protection, so keen to employ his own security. He’d said it himself, more than once. He could trust them.
Now he knew what he’d trusted them to do – keep tabs on his wife, and then drive in convoy to Haweswater, run Randolph’s car into the lake and return together, while Max Sumner was at home. There was every chance that the two of them had acquired the car in the same way and that Sumner was provably somewhere else at the time. One of them must have taken Max’s car and driven it around while he was taking Greg to his death, establishing his false alibi.
All that remained was to produce the incontrovertible evidence. He led the way up the path to the house, took the key that Laurie had given him and turned it in the lock. The door grated open and he stepped into silence, turning to allow the team of uniformed officers in behind him.
‘I don’t imagine this will take very long. We’ll start with the study. I’ll begin with his desk. There’s every chance that I’ll find what I’m looking for there. DI Dodd, take a couple of officers upstairs and see if you can find anything among Mrs Sumner’s belongings that relates to her relationship with Randolph Flett. We’re looking for personal documentation, or any other kind of information relating to Flett. And I’m looking for an old style pay-as-you-go phone.’
Max Sumner’s study was a pleasant place, with picture windows giving onto a breathtaking view leading
down to the water of Lake Windermere and the green heights of Latterbarrow beyond it. In the garden, Chris Marshall was supervising the arrest of the second of Max Sumner’s security men.
At the desk, Jude paused. Would he find what he was looking for? If he didn’t, there was no proof of Max’s motive. That would bring his boss down on his back and if there was any way Max Sumner got off, you could be sure there’d be another grievance and another long wait for revenge.
But Max had done it. He knew it. He opened the desk drawer.
30
Nicole gave nothing away, kept up an admirable front, laughing and joking, teased Sophie gently and treated her brother-in-law with distant respect, but Ashleigh, who hadn’t dropped everything and responded to what had sounded like a cry for help just to sit in a cafe making polite conversation for the sake of convincing a bereaved ten year old that life could go on, was assailed by the powerful sense that Nicole had something to tell her. Intrigued, she was ready to play the long game. A public place was a safe place. If Nicole didn’t want to speak in front of Max, that was fine. Ashleigh would wait as long as it took for him to leave and then make as much time as necessary for Nicole to share her secrets.
Nicole, it was clear, was equally determined to see him off. ‘I’m going to have another coffee. Would you like one, Ashleigh? Max?’ She even beamed at him, as if she took delight in his company.
He checked his watch. ‘I can’t stop. I need to get back.’ A message pinged onto his phone and he looked down at it with some irritation.
‘I wouldn’t mind another one.’ Too much coffee gave Ashleigh a headache, but this was the opportunity she’d been looking for.
‘I’ll run up and order it.’ Grateful for the chance, Nicole jumped up. ‘And I’ll take the opportunity to powder my nose. I won’t be a moment. I’ll see you back at the ranch, shall I, Max?’
‘Of course. I’ll pop into the deli and pick us up a quiche for lunch.’
‘Grand. I’ll see you.’ She headed off towards the ladies.
‘Auntie Nic says I can go and stay with her.’ Sophie unglued herself from her phone and turned to her father. ‘Pippa’s going to take me horse riding.’
He turned to her. An indulgent smile, a gentle touch on her forearm signalled his affection. ‘What a lovely idea. Why don’t you come back to the house with me, sweet pea? You can tell me all about it on the way and we can leave Auntie Nic and Ashleigh to have a chat in peace.’
‘Yep.’ Sophie jumped to her feet. ‘That would be good. I’ll see you later, Ashleigh.’ She slipped her hand into her father’s and they left the cafe, side by side.
Poor little kid. Ashleigh stared after her. Max’s actions always rang false, as if he was trying too hard.
‘Ashleigh? Where’s Sophie gone?’ Nicole, erupting from the ladies’ cloakroom, crashed across the cafe, tangling a foot in someone’s handbag and not stopping to offer an apology. As she grabbed the table from one side to stop herself falling, Ashleigh seized it from the other to prevent coffee dregs, cake crumbs and crockery from landing in her lap.
‘It’s okay. She’s gone back to the house with Max. He offered to take her so that you and I can have a chat. Nicole? Are you all right?’ Jumping to her feet, she held out a steadying arm to the older woman. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘He might not have taken her back to the house.’
‘Where else would he take her?’
Nicole still leaned on the table, struggling to get the words out. ‘I don’t know. Oh, God. This is what I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t tell you while he was here and I didn’t dare tell you on the phone. I found something in his desk and it dawned on me. I don’t think he’s her father. Or Greg’s. And I think he knows that.’
‘What did you find?’
‘It was a photo. He keeps a photo of Dawn and Randolph in his desk and I couldn’t understand it, but last night it came to me. In the picture, Randolph looks just like Sophie. And I suddenly thought – what if they aren’t Max’s children? What if it was him who killed Greg? And now he’s gone away with Sophie. I’m so scared for that poor child! He always adored her, but surely… she couldn’t…’
But by all accounts Max had adored Greg, too, and Dawn. Some people killed the ones they loved when they realised the love was baseless and, corrupted, turned to a desire for revenge. Ashleigh pushed the table aside, staring out of the window. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. It’s what I wanted to tell you. It gives him a motive to kill poor little Greg. It was to punish Dawn for having an affair.’ Nicole sniffed.
Greg’s death punished Randolph as well as Dawn, whose own killing heaped further suffering on her lover. If it was about Randolph, then Sophie might be the last weapon Max had, the last piece to sacrifice in a bid to make his rival pay a final price for his triumph in love.
Ashleigh reached for her phone.
*
In the house in Windermere, Jude stood staring at the ancient mobile handset in Max’s desk drawer. This proof of his theory gave him no pleasure, but he still couldn’t grasp how a man could kill his own child, even though the photograph of Dawn and Randolph bore witness to the power of his jealousy. ‘We’ll take the contents of the desk,’ he said to the constable accompanying him, and was about to move on when his phone rang.
He answered it without looking at the number. ‘Jude Satterthwaite.’
‘Jude. Bro. Am I glad to catch you.’
He stepped out of the office and onto the landing. ‘Mikey. I can’t talk just now.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I know you’re always busy.’ Mikey’s voice crackled out of focus and back in again. ‘… if it wasn’t urgent.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in Ibiza. At the airport.’
‘Can’t it wait until you get home?’
‘I can’t get home. That’s the thing. I’ve lost my ticket and my passport. We were out last night and came straight to the airport from the club and now I can’t find…’ The line dropped off again. ‘… cost me hundreds to get…’
‘Mikey.’ Jude raised his voice, as much to drown out a sudden surge of guilt as to allow his brother to hear him. ‘There’s nothing I can do right now. You’ll have to ask Mum.’
‘I can’t get hold of her.’
Increasingly angry, Jude sensed a lie. Their mother would help Mikey, but she’d tear a strip off him before she did it and make him pay for it in a host of ways when he got back. Clearly, Mikey viewed him as the softer touch. ‘I told you. I can’t deal with it right now.’
‘I’ve already missed my flight. I need money for a ticket and a passport. You’re always so big on helping me out. Talking’s easy. I’m asking you to walk the walk.’
The phone rang again. This time the number was Ashleigh’s. ‘I’ll call you back in a minute.’ He snapped off the phone and turned to business. ‘Ashleigh. Where are you? Where are Nicole and Sophie?’
‘I’m with Nicole in Ambleside.’ She sounded breathless, gabbling out information as quickly as she could. ‘Max has taken Sophie, and Nicole says she isn’t his daughter. She found a picture in Max’s desk and she thinks Sophie looks like Randolph.’
Jude had raised an eyebrow at the picture, but he hadn’t seen a connection. Nicole would know, would recognise the watermarks that Nature put through the generations when those who’d never met the child would not. But it was still speculation. ‘Does she have any evidence?’
‘Jude.’ In the background, the clashing of cutlery in the cafe gave way to the sound of traffic, and Ashleigh’s voice rang with anxiety. ‘I’m 100 per cent sure Max Sumner killed his son. He’s just walked out of the cafe with his daughter, and they’re getting into his car. I don’t know where he’s going with her, but I’d bet the house he isn’t taking her home. I’m going after them.’
‘Take care.’ Another time, Jude would have warned her off, ordered her to wait until he could get some support, but time was against them. If they lost sight of Max, they�
�d be hunting for a triple murderer and the body of another innocent child. ‘I’ll bring one of the uniformed guys and come and find you. Keep me in touch.’
‘I’ll put you on hands-free.’ A pause, the sound of a car door slamming, a car engine. ‘I’m keeping behind him. He’s heading up North Road, toward the Kirkstone Pass.’
Jude reviewed the route in his head, let out a long sigh. ‘Then we’ve got him. If he goes up there he can only get out through Troutbeck or Patterdale. I’ll get someone down from each end and we’ll cut him off. But keep your distance and stay safe. I’m on my way.’
*
‘Okay, Soph. I thought we could maybe take a drive. It’s too nice a day to go back home.’
That bastard Satterthwaite had run him into a corner after all. Max shook his head, ruefully, as if his football team had leaked a last minute goal rather than as if he was a man with his back against the wall, a man who had to decide whether he’d be hanged for a sheep or a lamb, whether it would make any material difference to spend his life in prison for two murders or three.
The choice was irrelevant to him, but to Randolph Flett, the man he’d always hated, always competed with, and who had bettered him in the end by winning the love of his wife and fathering her children, it was everything. Nobody made a fool of Max. If Sophie lived, then Flett would have some succour. The irritatingly saintly Nicole and her husband would bring her up, but he knew his sister-in-law. She’d let the girl’s natural father see her out of sheer spite, and she’d make sure Max knew all about it.
‘Okay, Dad.’
Sorry, Sophie, he thought, looking sidelong at his rival’s daughter as he turned up the road towards the Kirkstone Pass. She was the one who’d given it away. Greg was the living image of his mother, but something about Sophie had never seemed quite right. It had taken him a few years to build the courage to do it but finally everything had come right. First the business, and then Randolph’s ludicrous leap into spirituality had cost those lives. If he’d suffered and fought back, been defeated and suffered again, then it would have been enough. But Randolph’s embracing of karma – alongside that of Dawn – had been too much. Max had had to find some way to make his rival suffer.