Ann Cleeves - Killjoy

‘Powell?’ The superintendent looked up sharply. ‘ Evan’s boy?’

Ramsay nodded. ‘He was one of the teenagers who visited the place yesterday.’

‘This would explain why John Powell kept Gabby Paston at arm’s length,’ Hunter said. ‘Everyone said she fancied him but he pretended not to be interested. He wouldn’t want her tagging along, talking to his mates. If she knew what was going on at the bungalow she could soon put two and two together.’

‘And if she did,’ Ramsay said slowly, ‘we’ve got another motive for murder.’

‘We have to get into that bungalow,’ Hunter said excitedly. ‘See what’s going on there.’

‘No,’ the superintendent said sharply. ‘And certainly not today at the start of the weekend when all the wild boys on the Starling Farm will be tanked up and ready for trouble. I’ll not take the risk. You can continue making discreet enquiries. We’ll see how the mood is on the estate at the beginning of next week. I’ll reconsider my decision then.’

Hunter opened his mouth to argue but the superintendent interrupted him. ‘I’m sorry. It isn’t up for discussion. Besides anything else there’s the weekend overtime to consider. We’re already over budget!’ He smiled but it was only half a joke. ‘Have a break,’ he said. ‘You could both do with a rest. You’ll come back to it fresh on Monday.’

They stood to leave and Hunter was already out of the room when he called Ramsay back. ‘Stephen,’ he said. ‘I’d like a few words. On our own.’

Ramsay shut the door and returned to his seat.

‘I’m worried about young Powell’s part in all this,’ the superintendent said. ‘You must see that it has wider implications. If he’s on the fringe of some teenage gang stealing cars that’s one thing. Of course we prosecute. Charge him with all the others. It’ll be embarrassing for Evan but there’s no alternative. It’s happened before…’

He paused.

‘What are the wider implications?’ Ramsay asked, to help him out.

‘The possibility that Evan Powell is in some way involved. That’s the nightmare. Either personally or by covering up for the lad.’

‘Why should he be involved personally?’

‘I don’t know. He took a lot of stick from the Paston family and the community after Robbie’s death. At the time I thought he handled it well but perhaps it affected him more than we realized. Then there’s the possibility that all the facts of Robbie Paston’s accident didn’t come out at the enquiry. If he’s been hiding something for all this time he could be dangerous.’

‘Yes,’ Ramsay said. ‘ I see. What do you want me to do about it?’

‘Talk to him. Talk to the boy. Try to get a picture of what’s going on there.’

‘And if I find out that Evan or his son is involved?’

‘We deal with it. Out in the open. There’s no other course to take.’

It was still raining when Ramsay went to the Powells’ house at six o’clock. He had found out that Evan had finished work at five. He hoped to catch the whole family in, to get at least an impression of the relationships between them. He thought that the superintendent was expecting too much of him and there would be little else he could achieve. Evan opened the door to him.

‘Come in, man,’ Evan said. ‘ Have some tea. You’ll drown out there.’

‘I was hoping to speak to John,’ Ramsay said. It was almost true.

‘He’s not here yet. He’ll be in the library revising. He’s got ‘A’ levels this year and he’s dead keen. But now you’re here you’ll come in all the same.’

‘Well,’ Ramsay said, ‘if Mrs Powell won’t mind.’

Inside the house he stopped, awkwardly, hesitating at the expanse of grey carpet in the living room. He wondered if he should take off his shoes but in the end dried them carefully on the door mat and followed Evan through to the kitchen.

‘We’ve got a visitor,’ Evan said cheerfully. ‘ I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Stephen. Jackie, this is Stephen Ramsay, a colleague. Put the kettle on, love, and make some tea.’

She stood up and Ramsay saw a thin woman with high cheekbones and intense grey eyes. She said nothing and he was surprised. He would have expected Evan’s wife to be more conventional, more restful.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ he said. ‘I was hoping to talk to your son.’

‘Why?’ she demanded. ‘What do you think he’s done?’

‘Nothing,’ Evan intervened reassuringly. ‘What would he have done? It’s all a matter of routine. That’s right, isn’t it?’

Ramsay said nothing.

‘You won’t mind if I get on,’ Evan said. He was in the middle of preparing a meal. On the table was a chopping board laid out with green chillies, peppers, an aubergine, root ginger. There were jars of spices and Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian Cookery was propped open against the garam masala. ‘I always do a curry on Friday night if I’m not working, don’t I, love?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said. Ramsay recognized the irony in her voice but Evan seemed not to notice. ‘ It’s always curry on Friday.’

‘Why don’t you stop and have a meal with us,’ he said. ‘It can’t be much fun having to fend for yourself. John’ll be back soon. You can talk to him then.’

‘No, thank you,’ Ramsay said. ‘ It’s very kind, but I don’t think so.’

‘Can we help you, then?’ Evan said.

‘Yes,’ Ramsay said. ‘ Perhaps you can. Does John have any friends who live on the Starling Farm estate?’

‘I expect so,’ Evan said. ‘ Kids from there go to the sixth form college. We don’t encourage it but you can’t choose their friends for them.’

‘Was he on the Starling Farm yesterday afternoon?’

‘He might have been. After school. He wouldn’t tell us. He’d know we’d disapprove.’

‘He used to hang around with Connor,’ Jackie said. ‘He works at the Community Centre. John might have gone there to see him.’

‘Connor?’ Ramsay asked.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know his second name. They were at first school together.’

‘No,’ Ramsay said. ‘ I don’t think John went to the Community Centre. He was seen coming out of the Pastons’ house.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ Evan said. ‘What would he have been doing there? Someone’s trying to wind you up. To get back at me.’

Ramsay did not answer. Something had been troubling him since he had come to the house at Barton Hill, an inconsistency which had been niggling at his subconscious throughout the exchange with Evan Powell.

‘Is that your car on the drive, Mrs Powell?’ he asked abruptly.

‘The Renault? Yes. Evan keeps his car in the garage. Why?’

‘Did you loan your car to your son on the evening before last?’

‘No. He might have taken it, though. He knows he can use it whenever he likes. That’s not a crime.’ But she was uneasy.

‘You didn’t use it then?’

‘I might have done,’ she said. ‘I can’t remember. Was that the night I was babysitting?’

She turned to her husband but he shook his head. ‘I don’t know, I was at work on Wednesday.’ Even as he spoke he watched Ramsay, trying to judge where the questions were leading.

The inspector ignored Evan’s stare and continued with his questions to Jackie.

‘You don’t own a red Volkswagen Polo?’

‘Of course not!’ She was losing patience. ‘What would I want with two cars?’

‘I think,’ Evan said, ‘you’d better explain what this is about.’

‘On Wednesday night John was driving a red Volkswagen Polo,’ Ramsay said. ‘ He claimed it was yours, Mrs Powell.’

‘What business is it of yours what John was driving on Wednesday?’ Evan said. Concern had made him angry. ‘And how do you know he was on the Starling Farm yesterday? Are you following him? What gave you the right to do that?’