Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

‘So this is a noble act of self-sacrifice?’

‘Don’t get stroppy, Hannah, I’d rather part on good terms.’

She counted to ten. ‘You’re a good detective too, Greg. I’d want you in my team any day. What happened the other night doesn’t change anything.’

‘It does, actually,’ he said. ‘For me, anyway.’

‘What are you talking about? We agreed, we can be mature adults.’

‘Yeah, but I thought it over and I realised I’m no good at being a mature adult.’ A glimmer of a smile. ‘That’s the difference between us. Zanny used to complain that I can’t control myself, and for once, she was right. I can’t — but you can, and that’s too much to bear. Okay?’

Heart sinking, she shook her head. It was very much not okay. But what could she say that wouldn’t send the wrong signal?

‘Anyway, HR have put the wheels in motion, so it’s a done deal. Public Protection can’t be that bad, can it?’ He jumped to his feet, pausing as he opened the door. ‘Thanks, Hannah. I mean — thank you, ma’am.’

Daniel raced along the road to Ravenbank, taking the zigzag bends of the Hause so fast that twice he nearly came off the road as he came over the top and began his descent towards the little church and the valley. No farm vehicles in the way this time, thank God, but the respite from the weather had proved short-lived. Fog was rolling down the slopes of the fells above Martindale, wrapping itself around the scattered farm buildings, fences and huddles of sheep.

Melody had sounded fuzzy and incoherent on the phone. She’d probably washed down her Rioja with pills to cope with the migraine. All he could make out was that Oz had gone missing, and she feared the worst. Whether she was afraid for her husband or herself, he couldn’t tell.

The traumas of her youth had left a mark deeper and longer lasting than any of Quin’s bruises. Until now, Daniel had assumed that she and Oz slept together, handily providing each of them with an alibi for murders committed in the middle of the night. But if she wasn’t interested in sex, perhaps they occupied separate bedrooms. In which case …

The same might be true of Jeffrey and Quin. The Irishman had moaned about Jeffrey’s habitual snoring, and said that his partner hadn’t slept a wink. But if someone suffered from insomnia, what more natural than to get out of bed and go downstairs? Once you looked beyond Stefan, all kinds of possibilities opened up. Because Terri had never returned to Fell View Cottage, Robin Park had no alibi, but neither, he suspected, did anyone else.

Bumping over the little bridge, he found himself looking towards Ravenbank. The tops of the trees were wreathed in mist, the beauty spot had become lonely and forlorn. On a day as dark as this, the Faceless Woman might be tempted to resume her melancholy promenade.

He drove past Beck Cottage, with its drawn curtains. The journalists had finally departed; they must have decided that if they didn’t get away before the fog returned, they might wind up stranded for the night on Ravenbank Lane. A solitary figure stood guard outside the gates of the Hall. In the gathering gloom, he felt like Walter Hartright, catching a glimpse of the Woman in White. As he drew closer, she pulled down her hood, and he saw that in fact it was Melody, enveloped in a vast white puffer jacket.

He jumped out of the car, and she ran up, and flung her arms around him. She was sobbing wildly, and he felt her body convulsing against his chest. He could smell alcohol on her breath. After a moment, he took a step back, taking hold of her shoulders and gazing into her reddened and tear-filled eyes.

‘What happened to Oz?’

‘He … he’s disappeared!’

‘Has he gone somewhere in the car?’

‘No, all our cars are locked in the garage. I checked.’

Jeffrey had mentioned that, for some reason, the Knights had three cars, a couple of SUVs and a natty little open top sports car. No wonder money was tight.

‘When did you last see him?’

‘As you were leaving. Not long after, my mobile rang. I was half asleep, and didn’t answer. Some time later, it rang again and this time I took the call before it went to voicemail. It was Oz.’

‘What did he say?’

Melody gulped in air. ‘“I’m sorry.”’

‘Sorry for what?’

‘That’s all. He sounded distraught, and rang off. I called him back, but couldn’t get through. I ran downstairs, and the front door was still open. Did you see where he went?’

‘As I drove off, he was walking across your lawn.’ Daniel pointed. ‘As if he were heading to the gardens. He’s probably gone for a stroll around the shoreline, a breath of fresh air to clear his head.’

‘We’re not … we’re not a pair of drunken sots, you know.’

‘Hey.’ He hushed her. ‘I never said you were.’

‘You thought it, though, didn’t you?’

It hadn’t crossed his mind till now, but he’d seldom seen either of them without a drink in their hand. Even at Amos Books, he recalled. During lunch, they’d worked their way through a couple of bottles, and Oz had knocked back the greater share.

‘You think he’s gone for a walk and had an accident?’

‘Oz isn’t much into walking. I tease him about how he drives to the pillar box on the other side of Ravenbank Corner, when he wants to post a letter. Whilst I was waiting for you, I realised what’s happened. He’s gone out in the boat.’

He put his hands on his hips, unable to hide disbelief. ‘In this weather?’

‘Yes. I found his mobile, he’d tossed it away on the path near to Letty’s grave. I went down to the boathouse. King Ulf is missing.’

His head was spinning. ‘King Ulf?’

‘Oz named the boat after the Nordic chief who gave his name to the lake,’ she said impatiently. ‘He fancied himself as Ulf’s modern day successor.’

She was speaking in the past tense. He hoped it was just that she was thinking back to when Oz bought the boat.

‘Please, come on,’ she said. ‘We need to find him.’

‘If Oz didn’t moor the boat securely, it may have broken loose in one of the storms we’ve had lately.’

‘Oz wouldn’t make a stupid mistake like that.’

Daniel blinked. Oz had surely done nothing but make stupid mistakes for far too long.

‘Have you called the police?’

She shook her head. ‘Not yet. I’d rather not get them involved if there’s no need. That’s why I called you. I need your help, your advice. I don’t know who else to trust.’

‘Ring them now. They have people at Robin’s cottage, they can be here in two minutes.’ He looked into her eyes, but didn’t see any hint of a meeting of minds. ‘It’s the logical thing to do.’

She shut her eyes. ‘Haven’t you figured it out yet, Daniel? I’m really not a logical person.’

You can say that again. Fighting to contain his frustration, he dug his mobile out of his inside pocket. ‘Let me phone them, if you won’t.’

‘Okay, I’ll call them. But come with me to the boathouse first. Let’s see if we can figure out what he’s done. Maybe we can catch sight of him.’

She set off without him, breaking into a trot as she headed across the grass for the path they’d taken together on the tour of the Hall grounds, waving for him to follow her lead.

A crazy thought flitted into his mind. Nobody else knew he was here. The fog was descending over Ravenbank, and soon darkness would fall too. Suppose he was walking into a weird kind of trap?

Fantastic. Yet not impossible? What if Melody was afraid he was about to give them away, what if she or her husband had let something slip that would link them to Terri’s murder, or Shenagh’s, or both? He’d already worked out they might sleep in separate rooms. What if …?