Ann Cleeves - The Moth Catcher

‘When did you come back north?’ Holly supposed she’d been a young thing when she started working with murderers and rapists. She’d never been one for letting her hair down much, though.

‘Soon after we married. I got a job on The Journal and stayed there till I took early retirement. She found a post easily enough and worked her way up to team leader. She ended up in the prison. Sittingwell. She’d worked in institutions before and I think she liked it there. It’s an open nick, and she thought she could do positive work with the girls. Then there were all sorts of changes to the probation service, plans to privatize, and she got disheartened. She couldn’t see a future for herself under the new regime. Retirement wasn’t for her, though – I’m an idle bastard, but she always had enough energy to power the National Grid.’

Holly thought the information that Shirley had worked at Sittingwell was new. Another connection between her and the Redheads, though she would already have left the prison by the time Lizzie was convicted. ‘So she got the job at Hope?’

‘It was just a bunch of volunteers, before she took it on. She was approached by the trustees and asked if she’d consider doing it. It meant a massive cut in salary, but she was always up for a challenge, our Shirley.’

Jack Hewarth seemed to find some comfort talking about his former wife and Holly would have let him continue without interruption. This was the sort of information Vera loved to have. But Jonathan turned away from the window and joined the conversation.

‘She always said she’d never work at a job she wouldn’t do without pay. That was why she encouraged me to do the drama degree. Most parents would have advised against it, but she said I’d regret it if I didn’t give it my best shot.’

There was a moment of silence, broken by the wail of a saxophone from one of the practice rooms further down the corridor. Holly thought this had been a strong family; despite the divorce, the couple had maintained a good relationship and had brought up their son together. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want Shirley Hewarth dead; surely her killing must be the result of the double-murder in the big house. Shirley had known something, or guessed something, that had made her death inevitable.

‘Does the name Patrick Randle mean anything to you?’ She directed the question to Jack, expecting an immediate denial. Instead there was a hesitation.

‘Something about it is kind of familiar.’

‘He was one of the earlier victims at Gilswick.’ Holly leaned forward across the desk towards the man. ‘You probably heard the name on the news.’

‘Aye, maybe.’ But he didn’t sound entirely convinced. ‘I thought I knew it from a different context, though. Something that happened a while ago. It’s the journo in me. You never forget a contact.’

Another silence. The musician along the corridor was playing scales.

‘Did Shirley ever talk to you about Martin Benton? He worked with her at Hope.’ Holly was going through the motions now. The Hewarths might have parted on amicable terms, but they’d been separated for years and she didn’t think they’d share confidences.

‘The geek volunteer?’

She was surprised that he’d known the name. She nodded.

‘Just that she’d never met anyone who could find their way round a computer system as well as him. She said he could make a fortune if he took up hacking. Just as well he was on the side of the angels.’

‘When did you last see Shirley?’

‘She called last week and asked if I fancied a drink. She said she’d had a crap day and needed to bend my ear about something.’

Again Holly was surprised. She dismissed former partners from her mind and from her life. She wondered what Jack’s new wife made of the arrangement. ‘Was that usual?’

‘Not recently. Not since I’d married.’ Jack gave a sudden grin. ‘Shirley said Mandy wouldn’t appreciate it. So I knew she must be a bit desperate.’

‘And did you meet?’

‘Yes, in the Rockliffe Arms. A little pub behind Front Street in Kimmerston. It’s usually quiet in there and we arranged to meet early, straight after she finished work. That time of day it’s mostly old men playing dominoes and the odd person calling in for a quick pint on their way home.’

Holly was taking notes now. If Shirley had needed to confide in someone, this might be significant.

Jack continued, ‘I could tell something was bothering her as soon as she got there. She looked as if she hadn’t slept properly, as if worry was eating away at her.’

‘When was this?’ Holly looked up from her iPad.

‘Thursday.’

‘So after the first Gilswick murders.’

‘Aye, I remember it was all over the news. People in the pub were talking about it. Because it was so close to home and nobody had been arrested.’ Jack seemed to replay the events of the evening in his head and began to describe them as if he could still see them. ‘I went up to the bar to get the drinks, and then I asked her what had happened. Martin had just been mentioned on the news as a victim. She was obviously shocked, but she was anxious too. “The police will be poking into our business now. I don’t know what they’ll find.” I was just saying that she shouldn’t worry when a gang of her old mates came in. People she used to work with. They joined us and it was impossible to chat after that. Shirley was drinking a lot and ended up leaving her car and getting a taxi home. That was the last time I saw her.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘I should have dragged her away, found somewhere else to talk. But I thought she was just upset because someone who worked with her had been killed. I thought she needed cheering up, and her friends could do that as well as me.’

‘Did you speak to her after that?’ Holly tried not to show her disappointment. The man felt guilty enough.

‘I texted to ask if she wanted to try for a quiet chat again.’ Jack paused. ‘She said she was fine. Nothing I can’t deal with . That was classic Shirley. She thought she could take on the world all by herself.’ He looked up at Holly. ‘Trouble was, none of the rest of us could keep up with her.’

Joe went straight from the Hope office in Bebington to the valley in Gilswick. Less than a dozen miles in distance, but as far removed from the ex-pit-village as it was possible to be. Vera had phoned him from the car just before she arrived at Alicia Randle’s house.

‘Go and talk to the retired hedonists! I don’t want them dismissed as possible suspects because they read books, keep hens and make jam.’ Shouting to make her point, although he could hear her perfectly. He thought she’d always be in charge, even though she was at the other end of the country.

It was just after midday and he’d already decided that would be a good time to catch the residents at home. After the fuss of the night before they might have slept in, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable now to expect them to be ready for interview. He sat for a moment in the car planning his strategy; and because he was nervous. He might have been brought up to believe that all men were equal, but he found himself awestruck by people with degrees who used long words. Up until now Vera had been the point of contact with the Valley Farm residents. She didn’t think anyone was cleverer than her. Joe hadn’t even met them and he felt slightly daunted.

He went to the Redhead house first. Shirley Hewarth had visited their daughter in prison, and the police knew that there’d been contact between her and Annie Redhead. A man opened the door. Joe recognized him from the photo pinned on the whiteboard in the operations room. Sam Redhead. Big, balding and a bit tongue-tied. Joe introduced himself. ‘Could I come in? I know you talked to officers early this morning, but everything was a bit rushed then. You’ll have had time to gather your thoughts.’