Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

‘The worst kind of frogs, from what she told me. Idle, penniless wastes-of-space. And then the last one turned violent. When she told me her life story, I finally realised how she could tolerate being with a two-bit jazz pianist.’

Easy to understand what Terri had seen in him, Hannah had to admit. It wasn’t just the dazzling blue eyes and the trim bum. Terri would have found his self-deprecating manner and hint of vulnerability equally hard to resist. Just as she’d fancied Marc, another handsome man whose affability concealed a streak of weakness.

‘How did you meet?’

‘At a jazz concert the Knights organised. In Ambleside, at a place that had just opened up.’

‘Not Balotelli’s? She took me there for a drink, last time we went out together.’ God, it seemed like half a lifetime ago. ‘The night before Hallowe’en.’

‘Yeah, she told me. Our original plan was to spend that night together, even though she hadn’t moved in with me on a permanent basis. You know Terri, she cherished her independence. With all the hassle from Stefan, I hated the thought of her being on her own. God knows, how right I was.’

Hannah waited.

‘Unfortunately, it was the anniversary of my dad’s death. Mum’s always a bit low when that day comes around, and she wanted me to spend the evening with her at Beck Cottage. I couldn’t let her down. When Terri phoned me, and I explained, she decided to stay with you instead.’

‘That’s one mystery solved. She didn’t tell me who she’d called.’

‘Oh, she loved being mysterious, didn’t she? Said she was matchmaking, but you wouldn’t play ball. In her opinion, you and Daniel Kind were perfect for each other. Small world, eh? Who would have thought I’d meet him for myself at the Knights’ party?’

Hannah swallowed some more coffee. She had no intention of discussing Daniel, especially not with a man she’d only just met. This mustn’t become a cosy chat between two people sharing their grief. Robin had been present in Ravenbank the night Terri was killed. His sickness had given someone the chance to commit the crime. And there was an alternative that she couldn’t yet rule out. Sickness could be feigned. It was too early to presume he had nothing to do with her death.

In her head, she heard Terri speaking. ‘Hey, kid, relax. Can’t you forget, for once in your life, that you’re a police officer?’

Oh sweetheart, easier said than done.

‘Tell me what Terri did on Hallowe’en.’

‘She and Oz called in at the Theatre by the Lake to discuss Quin and Jeffrey’s premiere. Later, she spent an hour setting up a Hallowe’en party in Keswick. By half two, she was back at my cottage — by which time I’d well and truly succumbed to the bug.’

‘Did any of your neighbours know you’d been taken ill?’

‘Probably all of them. Terri popped round to the Hall to pass on my apologies to the Knights, and she called at Watendlath to give an update on the discussion about the show. Between you and me, Oz didn’t keep her fully occupied. There wasn’t much business coming in, and they were helping with the show mainly as a favour to Jeffrey and Quin. She’d heard Oz the day before, ranting at his accountant, something about an overdue tax payment.’

‘Was the company in trouble?’

‘Sounded like it. But I’ve never taken much interest in business or money.’ And he hadn’t needed to, Hannah thought, once his mother used the legacy from Palladino to buy him a home. ‘Anyway, I was out for the count, but I didn’t want that to spoil Hallowe’en for Terri.’

‘Or your mother?’

‘Exactly. Mum was looking forward to the party. Until Francis Palladino died, she worked at the Hall, and she still helps Melody out every now and then. It’s not about money, she just loves the Hall, and she’s never minded getting her hands dirty. Any excuse to relive the old days. I insisted the two of them go without me.’

Ah, the selfless invalid. The more they talked, the more he reminded her of Marc. ‘While you stayed at home in bed?’

‘Well, I was staggering back and forth to the loo every two minutes. Or that’s how it felt. Ghastly, trust me. You really don’t want to hear the details.’ The cheesy grin reappeared. ‘All I could do was obey Mum’s words of wisdom. Drink gallons of water and get as much rest as possible.’

‘Ravenbank is a dangerous place at Hallowe’en. Weren’t you worried about Terri? Bearing in mind the murder of Shenagh Moss, and the legend of the Faceless Woman.’

He made a performance of choking on a mouthful of shortbread. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that Terri’s death is connected with that Frozen Shroud rubbish?’

‘I’m not suggesting anything. In a murder case, it’s essential to explore every avenue.’

‘Including a barmy story about the ghost of a woman without a face?’

‘Almost the last time anyone saw Terri was during the ghost hunt.’

‘They just did that for a laugh, everyone was pissed, by the sound of things. Nobody in their right mind would take the story seriously.’

‘Is your mother equally sceptical?’

He sighed. ‘Mum belongs to a different generation. You have to realise, she’s spent most of her life in this small corner of Cumbria. She can barely use a computer, and probably thinks One Direction is a road sign. They may be a dying breed, but there are still people like that, you know. As for the legend, Esme Palladino swore she’d once seen Gertrude Smith’s ghost walking down Ravenbank Lane, and that was good enough for Mum.’

‘But not you?’

‘Esme was an old soak. She’d probably been on a bender the night she claims she saw the Faceless Woman.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Don’t get me wrong, the legend is fun. But — it’s a ghost story. Not real. It has nothing to do with what happened to Terri.’

She wiped shortbread crumbs from her mouth. ‘How can you be sure about that, Robin?’

Daniel squeezed his car keys in his palm. Quin’s affair with Shenagh had tormented Jeffrey Burgoyne. Five years after her death, he wasn’t over it. At The Solitary Reaper on Saturday, a mere expression of sympathy — ‘poor Shenagh’ — had been enough to get under Jeffrey’s skin. Daniel remembered their exchange of looks, charged with meaning, yet inexplicable to anyone who didn’t know. As soon as they were alone, recriminations must have begun, and the upshot was that Jeffrey slapped his partner on the face.

‘Whenever Shenagh is mentioned, it’s obvious Jeffrey despised her, but Quin was a fan. I wondered if that made Jeffrey jealous.’

‘Jealous as hell.’ Oz Knight’s gaunt expression twisted, as if he had toothache, and Daniel saw that he too had been devoured by jealousy. ‘He didn’t understand that Shenagh was playing a game. Seducing a gay man was a challenge, like I said. To her, it meant nothing more.’

He wasn’t trying to hide his bitterness, any more than he’d bothered dying his hair or combing over that bald patch. It was as if he’d abandoned the persona he’d adopted for so long, leaving in its place just one more miserable middle-age man. Like Clifford Hodgkinson and Francis Palladino before him, the murder of a woman had ripped up his life. In the space of a few days, he’d segued from lord of the manor to sad old loser.

‘Are you sure?’

‘She as good as admitted it. When I told her it was wrong to treat people as playthings, she told me to fuck off. Said she’d spent half her life being treated as a plaything. Now it was her turn.’

‘You don’t think she’d have left Francis Palladino for Quin?’

‘No way!’ Oz scoffed. ‘She’d tied everything up so cleverly with Francis. Shenagh was sorted, believe me.’