Graeme was sitting with a young woman when Johnny walked into the pub.
‘This is Tilly Knight – Tilly, this is my pal Johnny Frietze. He works for the mountain rescue round here. Tilly’s on holiday from London and I’m showing her around.’
Johnny shook Tilly’s hand and went to order a pint. He was off duty for the rest of the day. He was a little disappointed; he had been looking forward to catching up with Graeme alone: they usually talked about the army, ex-wives, their love of the outdoors, and their advancing age. They both turned fifty next year.
He went back to the table and sat down.
‘You know the Allerdale place on Derwent Water?’ Graeme asked him.
‘Of course. Didn’t old Lord Allerdale die recently?’
‘He did. The place has now been taken over by his grandson, who wants to turn it into some posh hotel, and he’s asked me to manage the project.’
‘Congratulations, mate! That’s fantastic news.’ The marina was a precarious venture, and Johnny knew that Graeme was never sure where his next mortgage payment was coming from, never mind the maintenance for his two daughters. He didn’t know what sort of a man the new owner was, but he had no doubt that Graeme would deliver for him. Once the landowner realised his worth, perhaps it would lead to bigger things, like managing the whole estate. Johnny raised his glass and clinked it against Graeme’s.
They fell into comfortable conversation, with Johnny asking Tilly polite questions about her holiday. Something about the way she paused before answering stuck in his mind; he found her charming, but a little out of place. He told them about the incident on Scafell this morning. Graeme agreed that the classification should be changed from a Grade 1 scramble to an official climb with ropes. It wasn’t that the people who became stuck there were incompetent; simply that one trip could lead to serious injury because of the terrain. It was the same on Helvellyn’s Striding Edge. Most of the fatalities there were as a result of losing one’s footing, but it was a bit like a Great White taking a test bite: it never ended well. Any fall onto sheer rock could kill, and trips and accidents happened even to professionals, but they just couldn’t get it across that inexperienced walkers shouldn’t attempt certain routes.
‘How’s Kelly getting on down south?’ Graeme asked.
‘She’s doing all right. I’m not sure she was too keen, but the case has turned into something national, I think.’
‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Kelly?’
‘No. Her case. Is she still looking into the Allerdale House burglary?’
Johnny nodded. ‘It’s all part of it.’ He watched Tilly, uncomfortable about saying too much in front of a total stranger.
‘Well, I saw some workmen hanging about one day when I’d pulled up to the beach to see what was going on. I’ve had my eye on the place for a while, wondering what was going to happen to it since old Lord Allerdale died. I had no idea that someone was staying there.’
Johnny took a sip of beer and paused. ‘Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve only just met your friend, and you know I’m in a difficult position here.’
‘Oh, of course, you’re right. I should have explained. I was giving Tilly a paddle board lesson this morning and thought it wouldn’t do any harm if I took her up to show her the house.’
‘Mate, it’s a crime scene.’
‘I know, but while we were there, she said I should tell the police what I’d seen.’
‘So why are you telling me?’
‘Because you’re Kelly’s boyfriend.’
‘Thanks, but Kelly’s job is none of my business.’ Johnny glanced at Tilly, who stiffened slightly.
‘Gosh, I don’t want to cause any problems between you two. Would you like me to leave?’
‘Yes,’ Johnny said.
‘No.’ Graeme spoke at the same time. They looked at one another. Johnny put his hands up.
‘All right, sorry. Look, can you just give us a minute?’ he asked Tilly.
‘Of course. Graeme, honestly, I don’t mind. I need the loo anyway.’ She picked up her bag and walked away.
‘When did you meet her?’ Johnny asked.
‘Why?’
‘I could get into so much shit for discussing this with you.’
‘Who from? Kelly?’
‘Yes, Kelly. What have you told her? The complete stranger.’
‘Oh come on, Johnny, she’s not special forces. She’s a fucking tourist.’
‘She’s a honey trap.’
Graeme burst out laughing. ‘Mate, you’re paranoid.’
‘Tell me what you saw, and I’ll pass it on to Kelly.’
Graeme nodded. ‘Thanks. Look, I never saw the guy who was killed before. I thought the place was empty and it couldn’t hurt having a look around. It was last Friday, I think. I rowed up to the beach. There were three blokes in the garden. I jumped out of my skin and so did they. When I asked who they were, they said they were surveyors, but they didn’t look like surveyors. They said I was trespassing and to leave – you know, aggressively. I’d never seen them before and they weren’t local. They were shifty. Up to no good.’
‘And you didn’t mention this to Kelly?’
‘I didn’t speak to her about the house, just about finding the body in the boatyard; the two weren’t connected then. Anyway, I didn’t really think about it until I went back there and saw the police tape. It set me thinking about the burglary, and how they’d need a vehicle to take away all the stuff.’
‘Between you and me, I think they’d need more than one, and something with a trailer mount. Can you remember what the men looked like? You might have to go in and give a description.’
‘I can certainly have a go. Why has Kelly gone to London? Is that where George Murphy lived?’
‘It’s a bit more than that. Two of his colleagues have been killed as well.’ Johnny wasn’t speaking out of turn; anyone could get the information off the internet. Besides, he trusted Graeme, just not the girl he’d known for five minutes, who was now on her way back from the toilet.
‘Where did he work?’ Graeme asked.
‘Big pharmaceutical company in London.’
‘No wonder he liked coming up here.’
‘Do you remember the vehicle those men were driving?’ Johnny asked.
‘I didn’t see it; I was beach side, remember? But I did see a van parked in Portinscale, outside the shop. I only remember because I couldn’t park there as the damn thing was blocking the whole road.’
‘I don’t suppose you got the number plate?’
‘Are you kidding? I didn’t apply for special forces for nothing. Of course I did.’
‘Do you mind if I rejoin you?’ Tilly asked.
‘Please do,’ Johnny replied.
Chapter 26
Marine Light Nautical Antiques had traded since 1912, and had seen better days. The former triple facade, adorned with awnings, silks and clever lighting, was now reduced to a small window at the front of a single plot, with various curiosities in the window and a worn sail hanging across the door. The bell clattered when the man opened it then closed it again, locking it behind him.
A small woman wearing a colourful house coat, glasses perched on the end of her nose, and woollen gloves to compensate for the lack of heat in the dingy shop, tottered towards the counter. She was around seventy years old and had a kind, enquiring face, but piercing, no-bullshit eyes. Her red lips smiled at her visitor and she nodded to the door.
‘Locked,’ he confirmed.
‘No funny business,’ she warned. ‘Follow me.’
The back of the shop was a mess. He was led into some kind of office strewn with papers. He didn’t touch anything.
The woman pointed to the door. The man turned and closed it. They faced one another. She indicated a camera in the corner and he rolled his eyes.
‘Look, lady, if I wanted to get rid of you, I would have done it by now, maybe when you were visiting
your daughter yesterday, or dropping your grandkids at school on Tuesday.’
The woman’s face froze in horror. ‘You bastard.’
‘Whatever. You got the bonds? The goods are all set, and here’s the key. You get the whole damn lot on sale, bar thirty per cent. I’d stop whingeing if I were you.’ He opened his jacket and showed her a pistol in his inside pocket. It was just out of view of the camera.
‘No money up front. You touch my grandkids and I’ll rip your balls off.’
The man laughed. ‘I bet you would, Brenda. Now stop pissing around.’
She smiled and reached into a drawer, handing him an envelope containing fifty grand’s worth of saleable investment bonds in the name of her dead husband. It was his insurance. Hers was the camera he couldn’t see.
‘Think you can shift it?’
‘Of course! Have I ever let you down?’
‘No, Aunt Brenda, you haven’t. How are the kids anyway?’
‘Ah, I can spoil them and hand them back. It’s been a long time; come for supper soon.’
‘I need to lie low for a bit.’
‘You made a mistake? You get too cocky?’
He squirmed uncomfortably. He had indeed made a mistake. He’d got greedy and now he needed to disappear for a bit, and that was where his aunt’s money came in. If anyone could shift stolen sailing antiques, it was her; she’d been doing it for fifty years and he’d learned the trade alongside her. He hadn’t been tasked with the boatshed burglary, but he couldn’t resist once he’d seen what was in there. And now he was in the shit.
‘How can I find you?’ she asked.
He handed her a mobile phone. ‘It’s a pay-as-you-go, completely untraceable. Don’t go calling your friends for a chat, there’s a good girl. Only use it for me, or I might rip your balls off.’
‘They’re bigger than yours, Leo.’
They smiled at one another and he stepped forward to embrace her.
‘You’re a good boy, Leo. Did you bring the photos?’
He nodded and took an envelope out of his jacket. She emptied the photos across her desk.
‘You weren’t toying with me. There it is. Is it really 1929 cedar?’
‘How the fuck do I know?’
‘Don’t you swear in front of me, I’ll put you over my knee, you’re never too big for that. You got your potty mouth after your mother died.’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ She studied the photo of the wooden two-man boat.
‘Whatever.’
‘You have no taste or class, so I’m not surprised you don’t appreciate it.’
‘I spotted it, didn’t I?’
‘Now you want a medal? Have you got time for a nip?’ Her eyes twinkled and she pulled a half-bottle of bourbon out of a drawer. She reached for two shot glasses and filled them, handing one to her nephew. They both gulped the liquor in one.
‘So. What do I do when they come knocking?’ the old lady asked.
‘Do you still have the gun I gave you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Tell them that I’m a good-for-nothing, and you haven’t seen me in years.’
‘And what if it’s not the coppers who find me first?’
‘Use the gun. These are serious guys, Brenda, they’ve done it many, many times before and they use hired thugs – ex-convicts, ex-army and the like, you know the type.’
‘Sounds like family.’
‘I’m not kidding around.’
‘I know you’re not. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.’
Chapter 27
‘Kelly, how are you?’
‘Hi, Ted, this is a welcome call.’ She still couldn’t bring herself to call him Dad, but it was a minor point and one that didn’t seem to bother him. She was genuinely pleased to hear from him, as her day was turning out to be just like the last one: professionally productive but personally precarious. Matt was angling to get inside her head at every opportunity, and she was on the verge of throwing in the towel and sending a junior officer in her place. But actually, even that wasn’t necessary: she could just leave Emma, and keep in touch via iPad. It was mind-boggling that you could solve a crime these days without ever leaving your chair.
‘I’m coming home soon.’
‘That’s great news. Johnny will be pleased, and so am I.’
Always the gentleman, she thought. ‘Did you ever work in London?’
‘That’s where I trained. It’s where I met Mary. She was an Essex girl and I the dashing doctor. We lived off the Edgware Road. I decided on the pathology route after I saw a murder victim’s bite marks develop post-mortem, can you believe. I was hooked.’
‘Normal people get hooked on shopping, or origami.’
‘Quite. I never did take to London, and the employment opportunities were better up north, so I took the Carlisle job and learned my trade. The rest, as they say, is history.’
‘I’m not suited to it either. I don’t know how I lived here for ten years.’
‘The Lakes get into your blood, Kelly, and they’re already in yours. Can’t you do everything via computer these days anyway? I have people call me from Canada asking how to measure contusions they’ve never seen before.’
‘Did the bite mark really develop post-mortem?’
‘It did. I’ve never forgotten it. That’s how he was caught in the end. It was the brother all along. Usually is, isn’t it?’
‘Family? Yes. Not in this case, though.’
‘What have you found?’
Kelly walked along the corridor; she’d excused herself from Matt to take the call. They’d met in the canteen at Ravensword, just like yesterday, to swap some interesting information. She looked around to make sure she was out of earshot.
‘Professional.’
‘Have you thought of drug deals going wrong?’
‘Why do you say that?’ Kelly was taken aback.
‘Because the toxicology results are back. George Murphy was a cocaine and opioid addict.’
‘What?’ Something that the CEO of Ravensword, Philip Tooting, had mentioned earlier in the day came back to her.
‘He had levels in him that a non-addict couldn’t tolerate.’
‘But there was no paraphernalia found at Allerdale House.’
‘Did you use narcotic dogs?’
‘I had no need to.’ Kelly frowned. This was entirely unexpected and threw her way off the scent. It even made her question whether the murders were connected at all. She felt a fool. And she’d have to break it to Matt. ‘Are you sure?’
‘One hundred per cent.’
‘It still stinks. Why were the three victims killed within hours of one another? Plus they not only worked together, but were working on some clandestine project of their own. And why has Alexandros fled to Cyprus?’
‘Greed? Perhaps he knew how valuable their findings were and wanted to cash in himself.’
‘No. The bodies were set up. Drug dealers usually love to scatter paraphernalia around, because it gets them off the hook. And it doesn’t explain moving George’s body. Dealers can’t be bothered to do that. Unless…’
‘What?’
‘The bathroom George died in was cleaned. What if it wasn’t to hide evidence from the police, but to conceal it from the owner?’
‘Lord Allerdale’s grandson? Why?’
‘I don’t know, but when something like that happens, it’s usually to protect the person who lives there. That makes it personal.’
‘Who’s the coroner doing the autopsy on the two victims found in the garage?’
‘I’ll email the details to you. Why?’
‘They were stripped as well, weren’t they?’
‘Yes.’
Kelly could see Matt staring at her and looking at his watch. She really had to get away from him. Especially after last night. She turned back to her phone.
‘Tidy,’ Ted said. ‘Rare for murder.’
‘I agree. Look, I have to go. I’ve
made my mind up, I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll see you soon.’
Kelly walked back to where Matt was sitting. He had some news. Not only was Matilda Knight not answering her phone, but her flat had been turned over, and ten thousand pounds had been transferred to her account by George Murphy before he died.
‘Does she have a car?’
‘We’re already on it. She drove up the M6 on Tuesday.’
‘She’s gone to do her own homework.’
‘Exactly.’
Chapter 28
Professor Cooper stormed into the CEO’s offices. The admin staff were used to it. Not all heads of sections could get away with it, but with Cooper, it was different. Tooting never seemed to complain, and while he would impose an informal ban on letting other scientists into his office, the same was never true for her.
Gossip pointed to two reasons: one on the left side of her chest, and the other on the right.
Glances were shared across the room as she waltzed past Tooting’s personal assistant and into his office, slamming the door.
‘Miranda!’
‘Don’t Miranda me! What’s going on? I could lose my licence, Philip. You said you’d cover my arse, and so far all you’ve covered is afternoon tea and a shag at the Ritz.’
Philip Tooting sat back in his leather recliner and smiled. He placed the tips of his fingers together and rocked back and forth. He had never been a looker, but money and status had left the indelible mark of success, and it proved irresistible to gold-diggers like Miranda.
‘I’ve told you before, everything is accounted for; you just need to hold your nerve. If you haven’t got the balls, then maybe I’ll have to take someone else to the Ritz next time.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
Philip laughed. ‘Good God, no. That’s not how I operate.’
‘Has this got anything to do with those poor fuckers in the neurocellular section? Because if it does, I’ll make your life hell. I’ve got receipts, I’ve got photos, I’ve got—’
Bold Lies Page 14