Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

‘Have you seen her?’ The man was hoarse and desperate, as if pleading for his life. ‘She’s nowhere to be found. For Christ’s sake, where is she?’

‘How is he?’

Greg Wharf had shut the door after coming in to Hannah’s office. She nodded as he took a seat, though they mustn’t make a habit of talking behind closed doors. For so many people in Divisional HQ, gossip was as natural as breathing. Essential not to give them any oxygen. Anyway, she could only give him a couple of minutes; she was supposed to be on her way to Lancaster.

‘He’ll live.’ She repeated what the doctor had said.

A theatrical sigh of relief. ‘Thank Christ for that. Looks like he’s got away with it by the skin of his teeth.’

‘Yes, he’s lucky.’

‘And the breath test was negative.’

‘Breath test?’ Her brain wasn’t functioning.

‘Yeah, I — um — didn’t mention it last night.’

‘What?’

‘Hey, you weren’t … yourself. I called Traffic as well as the ambulance when I saw his car wrapped around that tree. Best play it by the book with an RTC.’

Of course, he was right. There were no such things as road accidents, these days. They were, at the very least, incidents with some form of causation. This was a Road Traffic Collision, and the law allowed the police to breathalyse a driver involved in a collision. In practice, they always did so, in order to feed the Home Office’s addiction to statistics. Trees were, in the quaint jargon of police legalese, ‘roadside furniture’, and Marc’s crash, inflicting damage on the old oak, opened him up to prosecution. Driving without due care and attention was the likely charge. They’d never make a dangerous driving rap stick, and driving your car into a tree was solid enough evidence of a lack of due care. It could have been so much worse, but all the same …

‘Shit.’

‘Something new for you to worry about?’ He kept his face straight, but she knew he was teasing her.

‘You think the CPS will be interested?’

‘Dunno. Nobody else was involved, and the tree will get over it. At any rate, the council won’t need to chop it down. I gave it a quick once-over this morning before I came in. It’s not as if he hit another car or wrote off a signpost or something.’

A smart guy, Greg, more efficient than your typical Jack the Lad. Very good at dealing with a crisis. Of course, his reputation suggested he’d had plenty of practice.

‘Do you reckon they should treat it as a specified file?’

Guidelines covered the case of a family member of a serving police officer who was potentially liable to prosecution. Extra care needed to be taken, to avoid any whiff of nepotism.

‘Your guess is as good as mine, but chances are, the answer’s yes. It’s not long since you and Marc were a couple, and you were together a long time.’

‘Too long,’ Hannah said through gritted teeth. ‘I guess the prosecutors will want to avoid any whiff of “he only got away with it because his ex was a DCI.”’

Greg contrived an elaborate sigh. ‘You really don’t find it easy to look on the bright side, do you?’

Already the joy she’d felt in the hospital car park was beginning to evaporate. ‘Has it crossed your mind that sometimes there isn’t a bright side?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Hannah, what are you like?’

She found herself collapsing into a fit of giggles. Absurdly childish, yes, but she couldn’t help herself. Something about him was hard to resist. Better make sure she didn’t find him too irresistible. A repeat of last night was off the agenda. Absolutely, definitely, forever.

‘That’s better.’ He looked her in the eye, his face stripped of any clue to what he was really thinking. ‘Ma’am.’

Robin Park stood in the middle of the breakfast-kitchen, dripping onto the terracotta tiles, a picture of misery. So this was the man who was planning a new life with Hannah’s best friend. Robin was unmistakably handsome, with blue eyes and regular features compensating for the weakness of his chin and limp handshake. Jeffrey fussed around him with the coffee pot, as if not knowing what else to do, but Robin waved him away.

‘We have to find her! Please, I can’t do it all by myself, and there’s no time to lose.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Quin said. ‘We need to know what we’re dealing with here. When did you realise Terri was missing?’

‘First thing this morning. Oh, I know it’s still early. About an hour ago, I mean. I’d finally managed to get some sleep after spending most of yesterday rushing back and to from the bathroom. My stomach was empty, and I felt like shit.’ Quin nodded, as if to say And you look like it too . ‘I dragged myself out of bed and looked in the other room. Terri had said she’d spend the night there, rather than disturb me after getting back late from the party. Of course, she didn’t fancy catching whatever had knocked me for six.’

‘She wasn’t in the room?’

‘No. I assumed she’d stayed over with Mum instead. I rang her mobile, but there was no answer. So I called Mum and she said Terri saw her back to her cottage last night, then came back on her own to be with me. But … she didn’t.’

He buried his head in his hands. Jeffrey put an arm round him.

‘She’ll be fine, there’s sure to be a simple explanation.’

‘What about her car?’ Quin asked.

‘Still parked outside our front door.’

‘You’re sure she’s not somewhere in Fell View?’

‘Absolutely certain. I’ve looked everywhere, including the coal cellar, just in case she was so pissed she fell down the cellar steps. The garden as well. There’s not a trace of her.’

‘She can’t have gone far.’

Robin rubbed his jacket sleeve across his cheeks. Tears glistened in the blue eyes. He was a professional musician, accustomed to putting on an act, but Daniel was sure there was nothing feigned about his despair. Which didn’t mean it was justified.

‘Last night was Hallowe’en. You know what happens to young women in Ravenbank on Hallowe’en.’

‘Don’t talk like that,’ Quin muttered. ‘There must be some other explanation.’

‘I’ve met Terri before,’ Daniel said. ‘She is a close friend of someone I know, a police inspector.’

Robin stared at him. ‘Hannah Scarlett? Of course! Terri mentioned you to me. You and Hannah … well, it slipped my mind. I’m not thinking straight.’

‘Have you met Hannah?’

‘No, but Terri has … talked about her. She was going to introduce us.’

‘No need for the past tense,’ Daniel said. ‘One thing I do know about Terri is that she’s a joker. This might all be some sort of misguided … well, prank.’

‘No! She wouldn’t do that to me. Not after Hallowe’en, not in Ravenbank of all places.’ Robin’s voice was hoarse. ‘Two women have been killed here, it’s no laughing matter.’

‘Have you spoken to the Knights?’ Jeffrey asked. ‘Could she have gone back to Ravenbank Hall?’

‘For fuck’s sake, why would she do that?’

Jeffrey smoothed the kimono over his knees. ‘We have to consider all the possibilities.’

‘We need to mount a search party. Quin’s right, she can’t be far away. Perhaps she’s slipped, fractured an ankle or something, poor thing.’

‘On her way back from your mother’s place?’ Jeffrey considered. ‘Yes, it’s the likeliest explanation.’

‘I walked up to Beck Cottage before I came here, just to check. There wasn’t a sign of her. Mum’s in a right state. Terri’s like the daughter she never had.’ Robin caught Jeffrey’s sleeve. ‘I suppose she did get legless last night?’

Jeffrey’s eyes met Quin’s for a split second. ‘We all had way too much to drink. It was a party, the Knights are perfect hosts, what do you expect?’