Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

‘We need to talk about Stefan,’ Hannah said.

Terri gazed into the darkness of the night, humming ‘I’m a Believer’ slightly out of tune. ‘Sounds like the title of a film.’

‘Don’t dodge the issue. When you called me, you were scared to death. I heard it in your voice, and I didn’t like it one bit.’

‘Sorry, Hannah. It was selfish of me to disturb you at work, especially when you’re under the cosh.’

‘All I’m bothered about is making sure that man does you no harm. Stalkers are dangerous. You have to take them seriously.’

‘Oh, I am taking him seriously. You’re offering me a roof over my head tonight, and tomorrow I’m out at a party with … the people I work for.’

‘For Hallowe’en? How can you be sure Stefan won’t follow you? Trick-or-treaters get everywhere, he may sense an opportunity to make mischief.’

‘The party is at Oz and Melody’s house, out in the middle of nowhere. Stefan will never find his way to Ravenbank.’

After years of working for herself, Terri had found the going tough in a wintry economic climate. At a jazz concert, she’d met the wife of the man whose events company had organised it, and blagged herself a job. Early days, but she seemed to love it. Once the honeymoon period came to an end, though, Hannah suspected her friend would probably hate not being able to please herself. Most of her jobs had ended in tears; she was suited by temperament to being self-employed and answering to no one. Had so many of her relationships with men fallen apart because — though she would sooner die than admit it — she was better off single?

‘You haven’t said yet what Stefan did that made you call me.’

‘Is this the right turning, love?’ the taxi driver asked.

Hannah glanced out of the window. The new security lighting illuminated the area around Undercrag. No sign of that hulking brute hiding among the trees. Not that she expected Stefan to be quite so stupid as to stake out a DCI’s home on the off chance that his former lover might show up. She leant forward.

‘Yes, if you can drop us off outside the front door?’

Once they were standing out in the cold night air, and the taxi had disappeared off back to Ambleside, Hannah said, ‘Well?’

Terri hesitated. ‘All right, you did ask. He said he wasn’t going to let me treat him the way his wife did back in Poland. If he couldn’t have me, why should he let me go to someone else?’

‘And if you didn’t give in, if he absolutely couldn’t have you?’

‘Then he would kill me.’ Terri turned, and contemplated the moon. ‘To show he means business, he’s stolen my cat. I daren’t think what the bastard has done with poor Morrissey, but he’s dropped a hint by sending me a photograph with my head cut off.’

‘You need to make a formal complaint.’ They were facing each other on the massive sofa in a living room warmed by a roaring fire. A bottle of Bailey’s and a couple of half-empty glasses sat on the table in front of them. Hannah had decided not to fret about how she would feel in the morning. ‘I’ll give you the name of someone who can take steps to sort this out once and for all.’

Terri shook her head. ‘We’ve been through this. It’s not a solution.’

‘Please, do it for me.’ Hannah grasped her friend’s wrist. ‘This is how violent men get away with it. They rely on terrifying their victims. Women who suffer repeated beatings, women who are raped. Even when they tell us what has happened to them, so often they are too scared to follow through. The CPS need evidence, and witnesses who won’t be intimidated, and time after time we see cases fall apart and the guilty walk free. So they can do it all over again.’

‘You make it sound like I’m letting the side down.’ Terri pulled her arm away. ‘I’ll be fine, promise. I just need a little time. Breathing space.’

‘Stay here as long as you like, that’s not a problem. But you must do something to protect yourself.’

‘Stefan is already up for trial after smacking the lad he worked with. Chances are, he’ll be deported soon.’

‘Don’t bank on it. His brief will wheel out the Human Rights Act and before you can say Strasbourg, he’ll be issuing a writ for false arrest. And how long will it take for the case to come to trial? There’s a massive backlog in the courts.’

‘Then what difference would it make if I did file a complaint? You’ve moaned so many times about how bureaucracy complicates the job of locking people up, and right now I don’t need any more stress. Anyway, the papers are full of people being let out of prison because they’ve run out of room. Stefan will go apeshit if some spotty young constable knocks on his door and says I’ve shopped him.’

‘And what about Morrissey?’

Stefan had given Morrissey to Terri. Not that Terri was an animal lover; she’d never so much as kept a goldfish in the past. When Hannah was introduced, she couldn’t help thinking Morrissey was even more obsessed with his looks than his owner, but at least the gift seemed to mark a promising start to the relationship.

Not for long. Since the break-up of her third marriage, Terri had rebounded from man to man. She’d taken this new job because hairdressing, make-up and all her other business ventures never made enough to finance her extravagant spending. Her shoe collection alone would turn Imelda Marcos green with envy. A shrink would have a field day with Terri. The men, the boozing, and now the facelift were all down to a search for something lacking in her life, something she’d yet to find. Hannah had no doubt that secretly, she craved stability. Her mother was dead, and her father had emigrated after falling for a Spanish-American woman who drank even more heavily than he did. More than ever before, she was on her own. Other than Hannah, her closest friends were all in steady relationships, and she’d managed to antagonise most of them, or their partners, at one time or another. ‘Me and my big mouth’ was a favourite phrase. In moments of self-awareness, Terri was at her most vulnerable, and that was when Hannah loved her most.

At other times, she felt like shooting her.

‘It makes me sick to think of what has happened to the poor creature. Confession time, I’m not really a cat person. Morrissey and I didn’t really get on, he obviously thought I was common. But even so.’

Hannah wasn’t a cat person either, but cruelty to anyone or anything made her gorge rise. ‘Are you sure Stefan has taken him?’

‘The woman who lives next door told me she’d seen him picking up Morrissey in the street when I was out at work. Said she didn’t think any more of it till I came round asking if she’d seen my cat. She’s as daft as a brush, thinks I’m after her husband because I took round cakes I’d baked one day when she was out.’

‘And are you after him?’

‘Give me a break. The feller’s seventy, he’s got one leg, and he keeps pigeons. I mean, I know you think I’m desperate, but honestly.’

Terri always made her laugh, even at times like this. ‘This photograph you mentioned, when did it arrive?’

‘I was only working a half-day today. I came home and found it stuffed through the letter box. It’s a snap Stefan took of me at Bowness. I was looking rather tasty in my bikini top, though I say it myself. Anyway, it was a head-and-shoulders snap — converted into just shoulders. He’d cut off my head, from the neck up.’

‘Did any witnesses see him posting the photo?’

‘No, the neighbours were out. Pigeon Club annual meeting, more than likely. It had to be Stefan, who else? But it’s only a photograph. He’s not actually harmed anyone. Well, at least not me.’

Hannah fought back a yawn. She wasn’t bored, but shattered. The clock said twenty past one, and she’d been up since six. She’d drunk too much, her temples were roaring, and if she didn’t go to bed soon, she’d crash out right here. How to make Terri see sense? One last heave.