Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) (22 page)

BOOK: Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7)
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‘I’ll do my best. But you must have thought about it at least. I know I would have, if I thought that someone was trying to frame me for murder.’

‘Aye, maybe. I’ve thought about it, sure. But one thing I have learned is that there’s nowt to be gained by talking to the cops. I’ve never done it before, and I don’t see why I should start now.’

‘We’re talking now though, aren’t we? And sometimes a change can do you good. I’m having another kid in a few months, as a matter of fact. Can’t wait for it, actually. And when I retire I’m going to watch him or her grow up, and I’m going to learn to play a musical instrument.’

‘Oh, aye? Which one?’

‘Guitar. Electric. I’ve always wanted one.’

‘I hope your neighbours are deaf.’

Hall laughed.

‘Me too. I’ve even picked the one I fancy, semi-acoustic it is. I was reading about it online, and someone said that when you play a chord, if the amplifier is loud, you can feel the air being pushed out of the body. Like the instrument is alive.’

‘Aye, well. Like I said, I wouldn’t want to live next door to you. Bloody guitar all day, and the baby at night, like.’

‘You’re right. I might have to think again, I suppose.’

‘About which bit?’

Hall laughed. ‘The guitar. All right, thanks for your time. I’ll try to keep Sherlock and Dr. Watson away from you, if I can.’

‘So you believe me, then?’

‘For what it’s worth I do, yes. But I’m not in charge of this case.’

‘Is that right? Well thanks, anyway. If I get nicked I’ll be sure to get you called as a defence witness, like.’

Hall laughed. ‘You do that.’

‘I will tell you one thing. If Matt was still alive I’d say it’s odds on that he would have sorted Frankie out years ago. No question about it. So in a way the bastard lived a lot longer than he had any right to, didn’t he?’

 

Hall said his goodbyes and walked slowly back to the car, thinking about what Tyson had said as he negotiated the stone-field. When he reached his car he checked his phone, was surprised to see that he had signal, and called Jane.

‘I’ve found Tyson. He’s out walling. Gave our boys the slip on purpose, or so he says.’

‘Shall we get eyes back on him?’

‘Yes, we might as well, but discretely this time. Have you had any luck finding Winder?’

‘No. He’s not at home and all four of his registered vehicles are there too. And his mobile’s switched off.’

‘So he’s done it deliberately? That’s interesting.’

‘Not necessarily, Andy. He sometimes leaves his phone off for days. It’s clear from his call log. You’ll be able to do that too, when you’re retired. And apparently he likes spending time on his own. He just wanders off for a few hours. Has done, ever since he was inside.’

‘OK. Well he won’t have gone far, and I do know exactly where he’ll be on Thursday, if that’s any help.’

‘Second-sight, is it?’

‘Hardly. He told me. His son’s competing at Ambleside Sports, in the wrestling. I got the impression that John Winder wouldn’t miss that for the world.’

‘Thanks. I’ll keep looking meantime. And I’ll tell you one thing, Andy. We’ve come to rely too much on all this technology to find people. When someone drops off the grid now you can see the look on the young coppers’ faces. They’re clueless.’

‘I agree, but at least we’ve still got the dogs, if we need them. At least they’re analogue.’

‘And how. Did you hear that one of them bit poor old Reg on the arse yesterday?’

‘Really. I’m surprised he was off his bloody chair long enough.’

Jane laughed, and Hall was glad to hear it.

‘And before you ask, Andy, I’m fine.’

‘Good. And one thing, could I ask a favour?’

‘Go on, seeing as it’s you.’

‘Matt Somes’ next of kin. Do we know where they are now?’

‘Why are you interested in Somes all of a sudden? Don’t tell me you’re exploring the possibility of an ectoplasm attack on Foster? Because the way things are, I might even be interested.’

‘I’m not. Not really, anyway. Just something that John Tyson said, that’s all. It’s probably nothing.’

‘OK. Leave it with me and I’ll get back to you. Or rather one of the dynamic duo will.’

‘Like that, is it?’

‘For as long as they’re on attachment here they’re going to stay where I can see them, at all times. I tell you, love, you just can’t get the staff these days.’

‘Tell me about it’ said Hall, and he listened to her laughter on the line.

 

Hall was half way back to Kendal when Jane called back. Matt Somes’ widow and son still lived in Troutbeck. He wasn’t surprised. He envied people that sense of belonging, and he thought about his own children as he drove back the way that he’d just come. What would his daughters do after university? Would they return to the Lakes? He couldn’t see how they could. And what of his unborn child? He knew that it was foolish to try to think ahead that far, although that didn’t stop him. And when he did he saw himself, half-dozing in a wing-backed chair, while his still teenaged child talked of summer balls and exams. He hoped that he’d be able to be a good father again. If he lived that long, of course. Not for the first time he started to think about his own selfishness, and about all those years of putting the job first. But those days were almost over. Help bring this case to a conclusion, for Jane’s sake, and that would be it. For this part of his life, at least.

 

He was driving up the narrow lane into the village now, and for now he just needed to concentrate on that. Everything was so verdant, the trees and bushes bent down by summer’s leaf, but that made for deep shadows and blind bends in the road.

 

Hall knocked on the Somes’ cottage door, and got no reply. There was no record of Trish Somes having a job, but it was a lovely afternoon. Perhaps she had gone for a long walk. Hall was just about to return to his car when an elderly man opened the front door adjacent to the one that Hall had been knocking at. Hall braced himself for a long and suspicious back-and-forth.

‘Looking for Trish?’

‘I am, yes.’

‘Pub’ said the man, and closed the door again.

‘Thanks’ said Hall, to the old, dark oak.

 

He got back in his car and drove to the Mortal Man. There were a few people sitting in the beer garden, and Hall didn’t blame them. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever been in to a pub during the working day, except on Police business, but he could see the appeal, in a way. Time doesn’t know if it’s being wasted or not, he thought, pushing open the door. He asked for Trish Somes at the bar, and the woman behind the counter asked to see his Warrant Card. Hall showed her, and she pointed to a corner of the bar.

‘She could do with the company, I expect.’

‘What’s she drinking?’

‘Whatever you’re buying.’

‘Give me a clue, if you would.’

‘Scotch then, with a mixer. Doesn’t matter which. And a mineral water for you, I suppose?’

‘Lime and soda, thanks.’

 

Hall carried the drinks over, introduced himself, and asked if he could sit down.

‘Is that for me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then aye, you can sit down. I thought you’d be here before this, to tell the truth. The law, like. But I’m bloody invisible now, aren’t I?’

‘Well, I’m here now. So you know what I wanted to ask you about?’

‘Aye, Frankie Foster. You want to know if I blew his fucking head off. They had to sluice him out of there, I hear.’

‘Did you kill him?’ Hall’s tone was as calm as ever, as if he was asking if she had enough ice in her drink.

‘No, but I’m not sorry he’s dead. Ruined my fucking life, did that little shit. He got what he deserved. It’s what they do to rats, isn’t it? Fucking shoot them.’

 

Hall very much doubted that Trish Somes could hold a gun steady enough to shoot it, but he knew better than to make assumptions.

‘So who do you think might have done it?’

‘Take your pick, mate. But whoever it is, I’ll drink their health in your booze. Cheers, and all that. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer bloke, and that’s a fact, that is.’

‘Times have been tough since your husband died?’

Trish Somes put her glass down carefully before she laughed.

‘No, it’s been one fucking holiday. No money, and the lad to bring up on my own.’

‘He was named after his dad?’

‘Aye. No, after his grand-dad. Followed in the family footsteps too, he has.’

‘He’s a shepherd, young Matt?’

‘Aye, that’s right. Works the high ground up towards Ullswater.’

‘Very nice.’

‘If you’re a fucking tourist then aye, I dare say it is. Otherwise it’s just nothing but poor grazing and bad weather.’

‘Is he working today?’

‘Aye. What time is it?’

‘Just before four.’

‘Then he’ll be here in a bit, to take me home, like. He’s a good lad.’

‘I’m sure he is.’

 

Hall’s tone was as neutral as always, but Trish Somes still heard something in it that she didn’t like.

‘What’s that supposed to mean? I know he was in trouble when he was younger, but that’s all over now. You just check on your bloody computer.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Hall, ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. He was obviously troubled, when he was younger. I can understand that.’

‘Your dad died in prison then, did he? Killed himself, like?’

‘No. I just meant…’

‘Don’t bother. What would you know about any of it? I bet you don’t even know one end of a ewe from the other.’

Hall smiled. ‘That’s true. But I don’t arrest sheep. They’d probably all please guilty, and demand the death penalty.’

Trish Somes looked at him sharply. She seemed almost sober for a moment.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Don’t they say that sheep are always looking for somewhere to die? That it’s their sole aim in life. An old farmer told me that once, anyway.’

‘He wasn’t far wrong. And who can blame them? Bloody stuck here, like the rest of us. I can never understand why people come here on holiday, stupid bastards. They want to try and live here. So are you getting another one in, or are you just going to fuck off now?’

 

Hall stood up. He wasn’t sure how serious Trish Somes was being, but she was right, he did have no idea. Even after all these years the people that he dealt with in the course of his work seemed almost exactly as foreign and unknowable as they had on the day that he’d arrived in Cumbria. Perhaps that distance made him a better detective, although he was far from certain of that.

 

 

Jane led the final case conference of the day, and she could feel the absence of energy in the room. The air was warm and moist, and the office smelt of stale sandwiches and over-ripe bananas, forgotten in someone desk drawer. She did her best, but it did no good. And she wasn’t surprised, not really. Because the team wasn’t stupid, and they all knew that the case was coming apart at the seams. She’d obviously been over-ruled by Hall, and as a result they’d been spread too thin and the day had only amounted to one almighty cock-up after another. But what really concerned her was the lack of focus, the fact that now everyone was confused about their investigative priorities. And the most worrying aspect of all was that she wasn’t certain either. When she’d come to work that morning she’d been convinced that Jez Taylor was their man, but as she wearily packed her laptop into her bag she wasn’t anything like so certain. And the jury was well and truly out as to whether she should blame Andy Hall for that, or thank him.

 

 

Hall was surprised when Jane arrived home at just before seven, and he had to accelerate his cooking. It didn’t seem to make much difference to the flavour, as far as he could tell. Jane didn’t talk about work as they ate, and Hall followed her lead. He’d made a fruit salad for dessert, and he poured two very small glasses of wine to go with it.

‘Did you track down Mrs. Somes? I didn’t see a file note.’

‘No, sorry, I haven’t had time. Yes, I found her.’

‘And?’

‘And she’s bitter and angry. Addicted, too.’

‘Smack?’

‘Booze. Probably just as bad, though. She’s my age, almost to the day, and she looked even older.’

‘Stop fishing for compliments, Andy.’

‘I’m not. I’m just saying that I can’t see her being our killer. I’m not saying that she wouldn’t have, in the heat of the moment, but to steal a weapon and then hang on to it for ages before using it? No, I don’t see it. You know what people like her are like, when they offend.’

‘It seemed like a good idea at the time, you mean?’

‘Exactly. She’s not stupid, but I can’t see her thinking much further ahead than the next drink.’

‘Well that makes two of us, then. Is there any of that wine left?’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘You’re right, I don’t. Just testing. But would you have poured me one, if I’d insisted?’

‘I wouldn’t have stopped you from pouring a glass for yourself.’

She laughed.

‘That’s so typical of you. I bet you’d thought that through already, hadn’t you? That very scenario.’

‘You overestimate me.’

‘I expect I do. So you’re saying that Trish Somes is of no interest? Did you check her alibi?’

‘No, I didn’t even ask.’

‘Christ, Andy. Thirty years of playing it by the book and now you come over all Columbo. I’m not sure that this is really the right time, love.’

‘I agree. But I was alone, remember. Even so, having looked at his record I wouldn’t mind a word with the son.’

‘I agree. I did have a quick look at him before I left. A juvenile record for violence, he works alone in the right area, and no doubt is handy with a firearm. What’s not to fancy? So yes, he’s worth a chat. Although, I have to say, if we introduce yet another suspect the Acting ACC will go into meltdown.’

 

Hall shrugged and sipped his wine. It was gone in half a gulp. The investigative budget seemed so much less of an issue to him, now that he wasn’t responsible for it.

‘I thought I might ask Ian to come with me in the morning, if you can spare him. When I go to see young Matt Somes.’

‘You think things might get rough?’

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