Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

Was that true, or what he wanted to believe? ‘Did the relationship with Quin fizzle out?’

Oz frowned as leaves gusted across the lawn. ‘She’d stopped confiding in me by then.’

‘Was she still seeing Quin at the time of her murder?’

‘This is a game to you, isn’t it?’ Oz didn’t sound angry, just defeated and disillusioned. ‘Next stop, Keswick Museum, to see what stones you can lift up. For some of us, it’s not an intellectual puzzle. It feels like a blade, ripping through my guts.’

He turned on his heel, and strode out across the lawn, boots squelching in the wet grass. His gait was uncertain, and Daniel didn’t think it was just down to the Rioja.

Five years after her death, Shenagh’s ghost still haunted Ravenbank. She’d played for high stakes, but in the end she’d lost. Perhaps she’d pushed one of her playmates too far.

‘Terri’s murder is horrific,’ Robin said. ‘It’s destroyed everything we dreamt of together. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. But her death has nothing to do with what happened five years ago. Surely there’s an overwhelming case against Deyna?’

He ventured a tentative smile. Hannah wasn’t giving him any encouragement. She sampled the millionaire shortbread: pretty good.

‘I mean, the man can’t deny he was at Ravenbank that night. Or that he made a run for it. What more proof of guilt do your colleagues want? Why would anyone act like that, if he had nothing to hide? It’s bizarre that they’ve let him go. A scandal. I don’t suppose you’re able to explain what the hell your people are up to?’

‘You suppose right. Besides, it’s not my case.’

‘Oh, Hannah, please.’ He was finding it a struggle to remain Mr Nice Guy. Those fingers started drumming again, louder than before. Tap, tap, tap . ‘I’m not a total simpleton.’

‘I never thought you were.’ True enough, but she couldn’t yet decide whether he was bewildered and distraught, or had some ulterior motive she was yet to fathom.

‘Well, then. You’re matey with this Larter woman, aren’t you? And she’s in charge of the investigation. I met her five years ago, and she struck me as pretty smart. So why would she free the prime suspect?’

‘You’re right, DCI Larter is a first-rate detective. They don’t come any better. If she’s made a decision, she’ll have her reasons.’

‘So where do we go from here?’

‘You tell me.’ She stifled a yawn. Although the bed at Tarn Cottage couldn’t be more comfortable, she hadn’t slept properly since the night of Marc’s car crash. ‘Terri’s mobile went missing on Hallowe’en, I hear.’

‘That’s right.’ Tap, tap, tap.

‘I couldn’t get my head round that. Terri was constantly messing with her phone. Calling friends, texting, playing games. She hardly ever let it out of her sight.’

He gave a helpless shrug.

‘Any idea what happened to it?’

‘I don’t have a clue!’ Two pink spots showed on the tanned cheeks, as if she’d accused him of petty larceny. ‘Before she got ready for the party, she mentioned she’d mislaid her phone. She was upset, as you’d expect, but by that time, I was out for the count. Feeling awful, and very sorry for myself.’

‘So you’ve no idea when she lost it, let alone how?’

He shook his head. ‘Might have been when she was with Oz, in Keswick. Or she may have dropped it in her own car. Though the forensic people have gone over that with a fine toothcomb, as well as all the possessions she kept in my cottage. Her handbag, her computer, you name it.’

‘She didn’t mention calling Stefan that night, to arrange a clear-the-air meeting with him?’

‘Do you seriously believe I’d have let her run the risk?’

Hannah folded her arms. ‘Let’s assume for a moment that Stefan didn’t kill Terri.’

‘For God’s sake! Why should we assume that?’

‘Because his guilt hasn’t yet been established. And we do want to get at the truth, don’t we?’

‘Of course.’ He reminded her of a sullen little boy. Or Marc, on occasions when things didn’t go his way.

‘In which case, the murder of Shenagh Moss is bound to come under scrutiny.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Because,’ Hannah said, ‘it’s impossible to believe that two more or less identical killings, committed in the same place five years apart, are not connected.’

‘Everyone knows Shenagh was killed by Craig Meek! He was as bad as Stefan. A mad stalker, with a grudge against a pretty woman who’d made a few bad judgements in her life.’ His voice wavered. ‘But who didn’t deserve to die.’

‘Did she make a bad judgement with you?’ Hannah asked quietly.

‘For God’s sake! Are you suggesting that I slept with Shenagh?’

‘It’s a question that is bound to be asked.’

‘Okay, the answer is simple. Watch my lips.’ He tried to mimic Bill Clinton. ‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman.’

She studied his white, distraught face, and decided he was telling the truth.

‘Sorry. I felt I had to ask.’

‘I wanted to meet you,’ he said in a muffled tone, ‘because we had Terri in common. Terri meant the world to me. Okay, we’d only known each other a short time, but that didn’t matter. And before you ask, we never had a cross word. No rows, no tantrums, nothing but love and laughter.’

He stared out through the sliding doors. Had she done him an injustice? It was selfish to assume her suffering was more intense — selfish and almost certainly wrong. He’d been Terri’s lover, the man she’d chosen to spend her life with. The latest in a long line, admittedly, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t fallen head over heels. The depth of Terri’s passion might explain her reluctance to mention him. Perhaps she’d wanted to see Hannah fixed up with Daniel before boasting about her own new relationship.

‘I’m sure she did, Robin. Is there anything you can tell me about Shenagh? Did anyone in Ravenbank have reason to want her dead?’

‘Dead?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not saying she was everyone’s cup of tea, but — for someone to want to murder her, and in such a brutal way? It’s incredible. I refuse to believe it.’

‘She’d shacked up with a lord of the manor twice her age. A sexy woman, with lots of money, and time on her hands. It’s a recipe for trouble.’

‘You’re barking up the wrong tree.’ He was beginning to sound more confident. ‘The femme fatale with the boring old bloke who takes a younger lover? Shades of Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice. Surely that would make Francis Palladino the prime candidate for a murderous attack on a dark night? The poor old boy found her body, after all.’

‘Suppose Shenagh was happy with Francis, and that made someone else jealous?’

He gazed at her in silence. Making, she thought, some kind of calculation.

‘Is this Oz Knight we are talking about? Or Alex Quinlan?’

Jeffrey Burgoyne couldn’t control his temper. Sitting behind the wheel, waiting for a chance to get past a tractor lumbering along the narrow road, Daniel flinched at the memory of the stinging blow he’d witnessed. An aberration, perhaps — but its casual brutality suggested otherwise. This morning, the imperfectly concealed mark on Quin’s cheek suggested another bust-up. Plenty of apparently respectable men still assaulted their wives because they’d deluded themselves into imagining they had the right. Jeffrey was no different, except that he was gay.

He held the purse strings, and that might be all that kept the couple together. If he had a violent streak, Shenagh’s seduction of his partner might have provoked him into losing control. Quin was stylish and sexy, and twenty years his junior. If he felt insecure … suppose he’d killed Shenagh, and then — somehow — Terri had discovered what had happened five years earlier. He’d have a motive to silence her before she betrayed him.