Стивен Бут - Dead in the Dark

‘Who are you talking about, Mr Slaney?’

‘My granddaughter, of course.’

‘Lacey?’

‘Yes, Lacey Bower. She’s grown into a fine young woman. I’m pleased that she hasn’t forgotten her grandfather, but I was surprised. I hadn’t heard anything from her for a long time, not even a birthday or Christmas card. She has her own life to live, of course. I understand that. So it was quite a surprise when she turned up on my doorstep.’

‘Did she give any particular reason for her visit?’

‘Does she need one? But, no. We only exchanged small talk, very inconsequential chat. I asked her how her college course was going, but I didn’t really understand the details. I know Lacey is struggling financially as a student, but aren’t we all?’

‘Did you think she’d come to ask you for money?’ asked Cooper.

‘Well, she has done in the past. When Lacey first went to live in Sheffield, she asked me if I could help her with the deposit on a flat. I had to refuse, I’m afraid. Times are hard for everyone.’

‘But she didn’t ask on this latest visit?’

‘No, not at all. Lacey seemed a bit restless, to be honest. She didn’t want to stay very long. She probably had better things to do than spend time with her old granddad in his gloomy cottage.’

‘Did she stay long enough for you to make her a cup of tea?’

‘Coffee,’ said Slaney. ‘She asked for coffee. I also happened to have some of her favourite cake in. She likes Genoa.’

‘I see.’

Cooper recalled a discrepancy he’d noted in Lacey Bower’s statements. He hadn’t thought it was important at the time. On Wednesday, Lacey told him that she’d only ever mentioned her memory of visiting the cave to her grandfather. In fact, she’d specifically claimed never to have told her Aunt Frances when Cooper had asked her about it.

But yesterday, in Lathkill Dale, Lacey had let slip a different version of events. I was sure I could remember it, but when I asked Aunt Frances about it, she told me it wasn’t possible . That was what she’d said. And they couldn’t both be true, could they? So which should he believe?

Evan Slaney was staring at him across the table.

‘I don’t understand how this could be relevant, Inspector.’

‘But I think I do,’ said Cooper.

He stood up from the table.

‘Are you going to charge me?’ asked Slaney.

‘No, sir. I have a few more inquiries to make, then I expect we’ll be able to release you.’

‘Well, thank God.’

Cooper left the interview room and walked slowly back to his office. He needed to think carefully about what had just entered his mind. Could it be true? Someone had been leading him up the garden path. And it didn’t quite lead to the garden he expected.

He sat for a long time with a coffee going cold on his desk and letting his calls go to voicemail. Cooper was recalling his conversation with the neighbour in Aldern Way. The woman with the Yorkshire terrier called Henry. He’d forgotten her name now. But when he asked her about Lacey, hadn’t she said something important. She was here on Sunday, of course . But Naomi Heath claimed not to have seen Lacey for weeks, and the girl had said the same. Almost exactly the same, in fact.

And there was Frances Swann, who’d lost contact with Lacey and didn’t even know her address or phone number. Yet Lacey had let slip that she’d seen the carved owl sitting in Adrian Swann’s workshop, ready for the show this weekend. How had she seen that, unless she’d been to the Swanns’ house in Over Haddon recently?

Finally, Cooper thought about the knife, the nine-inch wood carving drawknife that was missing from Adrian’s desk. Frances Swann had told him the only other person who would have access to the tools was Evan Slaney. Why had she volunteered that information? Had she calculated that Slaney would be so angry about the knowledge that he’d been manipulated by Reece Bower that he would blindly draw suspicion on himself?

But how could Frances possibly have known that it would lead to the discovery of the knife at Slaney’s home?

How indeed. There was the crucial question. It ought to have been impossible for her to know that. She had claimed to be unaware of what had happened to the knife, just as she’d claimed ignorance of Lacey’s whereabouts.

And along the way Cooper had become more and more convinced that Evan Slaney was guilty of killing Reece Bower. Now it dawned him that he’d been wrong. And not only wrong — he’d been manipulated towards his conclusion. Naomi, Frances and Lacey, they had all played their part in leading him towards that destination. Up the garden path to what seemed an obvious outcome.

Cooper could have kicked himself. He’d been stupid. Worse, he’d been gullible. During these last few days, he’d been the instrument of a conspiracy between three clever women. Naomi, Frances and Lacey. Together they’d taken their revenge on one man, and set up another to be the suspect.

And yes, they’d used a third as their pawn. Detective Inspector Ben Cooper. He hadn’t believed everything they told him. But he’d believed far too much.

By late afternoon, a scene-of-crime team had finished digging out the flower bed in the Bowers’ garden on Aldern Way. Reece Bower’s corpse had been wrapped in layers of black plastic bin liner, tied with clothes line. The outline of a human body was clear, even through the plastic. Whoever had done the tying had made the line far too tight, as if afraid that Reece might escape from his makeshift shroud.

Cooper knew the smell would be overpowering when they opened those bags. He turned away and saw Dr Chloe Young waiting by the house to get access to the body. Sometimes, she had the worst job.

Naomi Heath perched uneasily in an armchair in the sitting room of the house she’d shared with Reece Bower, with a uniformed female officer standing over her. She was moving her hands restlessly on the arms of her chair, her head turned away from the window so that she couldn’t see what was going on in the garden. It was too late for her to be in denial, though.

Cooper stood directly in front of her.

‘You knew where he was, didn’t you?’ he said.

After a moment, she nodded. It was a curt nod, so quick and precise that he could have mistaken it for an involuntary twitch, a nervous response to his question. But he could tell the truth from her expression.

‘Of course you did,’ he said. ‘You killed him.’

She didn’t answer. Cooper nodded at the officer, who put the handcuffs on to Naomi’s wrists and led her to a car waiting on the drive. No doubt the neighbours in Aldern Way were already at their windows to see her being taken away.

Carol Villiers came in from the garden, where Dr Young had finally got access to the body.

‘Naomi Heath,’ said Villiers with a note of surprise.

‘She either killed Reece Bower herself,’ said Cooper. ‘Or at least, she was involved in his death and the disposal of the body.’

‘Surely she must have had help. She couldn’t have dragged his body out there on her own and buried him. That would take at least two people. And somebody tied those knots really tight.’

‘Somebody angry, perhaps?’

‘Yes.’

‘But not Evan Slaney,’ said Cooper. ‘Not him.’

‘Who would have thought a woman like Naomi was capable of it?’

‘If you put people under enough stress, they’re capable of pretty much anything,’ said Cooper.

‘I suppose so.’

‘She was very clever, actually. She let me form my own conclusions.’

‘By suggesting it was something to do with new evidence about the disappearance of Annette Bower?’