Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) (6 page)

‘That’s one way of settling an argument I suppose,’ laughed Sally.

Jane smiled. ‘You’ve got a vivid imagination, especially for someone who works in environmental health.’

‘Did I tell you we found skinned monkey in a take-away’s freezer out west a while back? The colleague who found it thought it might have been a child, and she’s off work with stress now.’

‘Blimey. What kind of monkey was it?’

‘Trust you to ask that. I don’t know, the child look-a-likee monkey. Blimey Jane, any normal person would have asked which carry out it was, not what kind of monkey.’

‘No, I just assumed it was our station canteen.’ They both laughed, although in fact they hadn’t had a canteen at the station in years.

Jane just managed to find a space in the car park at Ambleside, and the two women set off at a good pace, chatting as they went. For the first time in three months Jane felt she’d worn a layer too many, and they stopped on Heron Pike so that they could both reduce the level of insulation. The horseshoe was all visible now, with Fairfield above and ahead of them at the head of the valley.

‘He fell off there, from Hart Crag, over to the right of Fairfield’ said Jane, pointing slightly off to her right when they stopped for a breather. ‘It certainly looks like a long way down.’

They were both really puffing by the time they reached Great Rigg. Jane thought that Sally’s breathing sounded slightly more laboured than hers.

‘Fancy stopping for a bite to eat?’ asked Sally.

‘Would you mind if we stopped on Fairfield? I wouldn’t mind having a look at the place where the accident happened.’

‘Are you never off duty? If I was like that I’d be straight in the kitchens whenever we go out to eat.’

Jane laughed. ‘Maybe you should. I hate to think what some of them must do to your food when they recognise you.’

Sally laughed.

‘I always go in disguise.’

‘I bet Bill loves that.’

‘Only if I go as a very naughty nurse.’

There were lots of walkers out, and most were wearing sunglasses. A few had even taken off their jackets. Jane got tired of greeting them all, and commenting on the weather. On the broad, flat summit of Fairfield they stopped for lunch. Jane ate a sandwich much too quickly. ‘Listen Sal, I’m just going to Hart Crag, I’ll be back in ten minutes. Will you be OK?’

‘Of course. I’m not sure which I’m enjoying more, these views or being away from the kids. Wait, I’ve decided. It’s being away from the kids.’

Jane couldn’t be sure exactly where Tony Harrison had fallen from, but she soon found the place where the path went nearest the edge. She took her smartphone out of her jacket’s map pocket and took a few pictures. She walked along to the end of the section, and photographed the rock and scree on the right hand side, with the drop just a foot or two beyond. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable. The path looked fine, but the loose stuff to the side looked treacherous. Why did people bother walking so near the edge?

She walked back to Sally wondering what she’d achieved, if anything.

‘Any luck?’ said Sally, when Jane arrived.

‘Not really, I just wanted to have a look. Is there mobile reception up here?’

‘Don’t know. My phone is firmly off. I don’t want Bill phoning.’

‘Very wise.’

But there was signal, so Jane sent Andy Hall an email, entitled ‘Wish you were here’, and attached the photos she’d taken. She could just picture him looking at them, with that look of quiet concentration that he always seemed to have when he was at work.

The two women enjoyed the rest of the walk, even though it gradually clouded over and became windier as they walked. By the time they were back in the car the sky to the west was a dark purplish grey colour, and big, slow snowflakes were falling by the time that Jane dropped Sally off.

‘Do you fancy coming in for a coffee?’

Jane could picture her friend’s small living room, an obstacle course of toys and a moaning husband on the sofa, and couldn’t think of much she fancied less.

‘Would you mind if I pass? I really fancy a long, hot bath.’

‘Of course not. I envy you Jane, I really do.’

As Jane drove home she knew that neither of them believed that for one second. But that didn’t stop her looking forward to that bath.

Ian Mann had decided to try the pubs that Spedding used again at Sunday lunchtime, and had drawn a blank. So he texted Andy Hall and asked if he could email him pictures of any of Spedding’s crew, or other known associates. He knew that Hall would go straight in to work and do it, and sure enough at four o’clock he had faces to go with three names. Mann swore out loud: he’d seen two of them in the King’s Head that lunchtime. So he put his jacket on, and headed out in the sleet.

It was the roughest of the pubs he’d visited, and despite the smoking ban having been imposed years before it still smelt of stale smoke. But at least it wasn’t a theme pub. Mann walked in, and even though there was no-one at the bar he still had to wait to order his drink. When he finally got his pint, he turned, and glanced at the corner table where Spedding’s two mates had been earlier. They hadn’t moved, and now Spedding was with them too.

There was a pool table in that corner of the bar, so Mann fed in a pound, put down his pint and racked them up. At least Spedding might remember him if they met again. But Spedding did better than that, and as Mann was chalking the straightest cue he could find Spedding was beside him.

‘Fancy a game.’

‘Why not?’

They barely spoke as they played, and Spedding won on the last black.

‘Unlucky’ said Spedding, holding up a pound. ‘Rack ‘em up again?’

This time it was Mann who won. He picked up his glass and raised it to Spedding.

‘Cheers’ he said, and sat down to enjoy his pint. Spedding and his crew were still there when he left, talking quietly and seriously. In ten minutes none of them had laughed once, and that wasn’t natural. Either someone very close had just died in tragic circumstances, or they were working on something. The King’s Head was probably the closest that Joey Spedding would ever get to having an office.

Monday, 18th February

Andy Hall was already at work when Jane knocked and came in to his office.

‘Thanks for the photos’ he said. ‘The weather looked lovely.’

‘It was. I go walking with a friend, a girl from college, so I suggested we did that one yesterday. Kill two birds with one stone you might say.’

‘Thanks, and I’m glad you enjoyed it. I must admit I thought about doing the self-same thing. But I’m quite glad I didn’t because yesterday afternoon I discovered that the washing basket, which was half-empty when I did the washing on Saturday, was suddenly totally full, and everything was needed urgently. I don’t know what those girls think I am, a bloody laundry.’

Jane wasn’t sure what to say. But at least the awkwardness had gone. ‘See anything of interest in the pictures, did you boss?’

‘Not really. What were your impressions? Visibility was very poor up there that day, so could he have just wandered off the path do you reckon?’

Jane shook her head. ‘I doubt it. The path is very clear, that place is like a motorway so it’s really well worn, and they’d both walked that route before. He must have known that drop was there. And by the by there is another path, a few yards further away from the edge, and I’d say the views would be every bit as good from that one. I’ve been thinking about it and I think you’re right, there’s something not quite right here.’

‘I know what you mean, but I can’t put my finger on it either. I went to see the bloke who runs the Mountain Rescue team yesterday, and he told me that Tony Harrison was well equipped, had good boots on, and had fallen further than they’d expected. He’d taken ‘quite a header’ was how I think he put it.’

‘Charming. Lovely big mountain man type was he?’

‘No, more like a rather emaciated Bill Oddie. Anyway, what’s the craic from here? Shall we let it go, or maybe have a quick chat with the grieving widow?’

‘Have we got a reason?’

‘I don’t think we need one. I’d like to understand why an experienced and well-equipped walker came to make such a bad decision, that’s all.’

‘So you’d like me to set it up?’

‘Yes, no time pressure, just when suits her.’

‘OK boss.’

‘Thanks. And when Ray rolls in would you ask him if he could spare me a minute? I want to chat to with him about Ian.’

‘How’s he getting on?’

‘Very well. I wouldn’t have Ian Mann down as the most sociable of blokes but he’s already bosom buddies with Brockbank, and has at least made contact with Spedding. I want to tell Ray that he did a grand job there, and get him signed up for a bit of undercover work himself.’

‘How do you mean boss?’

‘At some point, in the not too distant future, I need the targets to meet one of Ian’s mates, our very own Ray Dixon, who can then drop out of the picture for a while. I don’t want the targets to be spooked if they see Ray again later on, when I might need to have someone close to Ian. You know, as and when things hot up.’

‘And you think Ray looks like the kind of mate that Ian would have?’

Hall laughed.

‘Point taken. But I don’t have too many options. I could only go undercover at a geography teacher’s convention, and without any undue stereotyping Jane, I just don’t see you stripping the lead off church roofs.’

Jane laughed. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me boss.’

It was almost five before Jane was able to confirm their meeting with Vicky Harrison, at her house on Kendal Green at six. ‘Can you manage that OK boss?’ asked Jane, as she poked her head round his office door.

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world’ said Hall. ‘The kids can just cook my tea for a change.’

Jane followed Hall in her own car. Going in one vehicle hadn’t even been discussed. They both found spaces on the Green, and knocked at the front door of the imposing Victorian house.

Vicky Harrison opened the door, and Hall had the sense that he’d seen her somewhere before. She was about his age he thought, so she might be one of Carol’s friends, maybe a mum who’d watched her kids and his at anything from a reception class Nativity play through to a sports day the previous summer. In fairness Hall hadn’t seen all that many of either, but he’d made it to a few. Now, especially now, he wished it had been more.

They went through to the kitchen at the back of the house, and while the rest of the building seemed to have retained its period features this large room was a temple to structural steel and skylights, with full height glass doors looking over the garden. And Hall began to regret asking for coffee when Mrs. Harrison started using the coffee machine on the worktop. It looked like it would take forever.

Eventually they sat at the long table that filled the side extension. Vicky Harrison didn’t seem remotely nervous or defensive.

‘How can I help you? I understood from the other officer that your enquiries were closed.’

‘We’re still completing them’ said Hall. ‘I know this must be painful, but could you tell me what happened on Hart Crag?’

‘Just what I told the other policeman. My husband wanted to walk along the path right at the cliff edge, and as were walking along he must have slipped or something. I was watching my footing, and sticking to the path, so I didn’t see exactly what happened. I just saw him trying to regain his balance, and then he fell. It all happened so fast. I got as near to the edge as I could, and started shouting for him, but there was no reply. Then other people started to arrive, and they were trying to see him down there. Eventually Mountain Rescue turned up, and you know the rest.’

Jane expected Hall to ask more about the accident, and the lead-up to it, but he didn’t.

‘Can you tell me a bit about Tony, Mrs. Harrison?’

‘Vicky, please. Well Tony was an architect. We moved up here from the midlands when our son Peter was born, and I joined a small accountancy practice when he started school. Tony set up his own architectural practice, and that’s what he’s done ever since.’

‘And what about hobbies and interests?’

‘He liked walking obviously, and he was a collector of modernist furniture and art pottery. We’ve got quite a few rare pieces. These chairs are quite famous actually.’

Hall had thought they’d come from Ikea. He sat corrected he thought, and tried to remember that for later. He’d like to see Jane laugh again.

‘And what was his usual attitude to risk, would you say?’

Vicky Harrison didn’t seem remotely phased by the question.

‘I don’t think he went looking for it, usually anyway. Tony lived a very controlled kind of life.’