Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

No, no, no .

He couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Now wasn’t the time to get carried away by his obsessive interest in the drama of murder. Melody was many things, but she wasn’t a deranged psychopath. In a momentary flash of bravado, he told himself he’d stake his life on that. Whatever her failings, this was a woman who did not betray; she had suffered betrayal. A victim, not a culprit.

Melody reached the path and turned to face him.

‘Come on!’

He sucked cold Cumbrian air into his lungs, and set off after her.

Hannah’s brain was hurting by the time she packed her notes into her briefcase and locked her office. She didn’t have the time or inclination to agonise about Greg’s resignation. He was a grown man, and had to take responsibility for his own decisions. The notes Les had given her raised endless questions, and she’d decided to beat the deteriorating weather and try to work out some answers at home. His experience meant that he’d distilled a handful of telling details from the morass of information facing him as he waded through the Blue Book and the background papers.

Half a dozen people were on the spot in Ravenbank at the time of both murders. Whatever else he’d done, Stefan probably wasn’t guilty of bludgeoning Terri to death. He’d been someone else’s cat’s paw. And if that was true of him, it was likely true of Craig Meek. The key to the mystery lay in the killing of Shenagh. Find the motive for that crime, and you’d find the culprit.

The fog was closing in, and the journey back to Undercrag took twice as long as usual. She decided to invite Fern to stay for the night. The last thing she wanted was for Fern to risk driving home later in lousy conditions after a long and exhausting day. She didn’t fancy any more visits to the bedside of RTC victims. Besides, she could do with Fern’s company. After a couple of nights at Tarn Cottage, the prospect of tossing and turning in her lonely bed at home had zero appeal.

Once at home, she made herself a coffee and resumed her study of Les’s notes. Fern called to say she should arrive in another half an hour, the cue for Hannah to order the pizzas and garlic bread. When the doorbell rang, she thought the pizza delivery man had made it in record time.

Marc stood on the doorstep, his face muffled by a scarf his mother had knitted, a padded envelope in his hand.

‘Here are the keys. I thought I ought to let you have them, so you won’t be worrying that I might make any more unwanted calls now I’m out of hospital.’

She’d seen him look prettier, but he was in one piece, and so far as she could tell, the cuts on his face were beginning to heal. She held out her hand.

‘Thanks.’ No way was she going to invite him in. ‘You needn’t have bothered to deliver them in person, especially on a night like this.’

‘I felt I had to do it, as soon as I was discharged. Sort of symbolic, if you know what I mean. End of an era, and all that.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘I’ll speak to the estate agent tomorrow. I’m assuming you don’t want to make me an offer to buy out my share?’

She shook her head. ‘This isn’t a house for one person. I rattle around too much. I need a change. A small cottage, maybe.’

‘Greg isn’t moving in?’

She gritted her teeth. Even when he tried to be on his best behaviour, he couldn’t resist a dig.

‘As a matter of fact, he’s moving on. He’s applied to be redeployed as part of the team restructure.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘I told you, the other night was a dreadful mistake. I know it, and so does Greg.’ Though that wasn’t quite the point he’d made earlier this afternoon. ‘Anyway …’

‘I’d better get back to Grange, before this fog worsens.’ He paused. ‘It’s rotten about Terri, I know you thought the world of her.’

‘Yes, I did. Thanks very much for bringing back the keys. Give my love to your mum.’

He gave her a look, as if to say: Who are you kidding?

‘Goodbye, Hannah.’

‘Take care.’

She closed the door, and tossed the envelope onto a small table in the hall. Well, well, her life was getting less complicated by the minute. First Greg, now Marc. And it might be foggy outside, but her head was clearing.

There was a reason why she felt nervy and excited — though she’d refused to admit it, even to herself — each time she heard Daniel’s voice. It wasn’t because he was his father’s son. He was interested in her, but he was determined not to show it, because he felt she wasn’t ready. Considerate of him, but clever as he was, he’d miscalculated. The truth was simple. He meant more to her than Marc and Greg put together.

‘See what I mean?’ Melody demanded.

She and Daniel stood side by side on the shore, peering into the empty boathouse. It jutted out over a tiny inlet, close to the tip of the promontory. The Knights had replaced the rotting timber, and given it a fresh coat of white paint, as well as tiling the roof with new green slates. Daniel dared not guess the cost. A rich man’s whim, but now the rich man had gone AWOL.

‘What do you think is in his mind?’ Daniel asked.

‘I daren’t imagine,’ she said. ‘I’m so afraid.’

‘Does he often row over to Patterdale, or Glenridding?’

‘Hardly at all these days, the novelty has worn off. And never in weather as foul as this.’

The chill air nipped at Daniel’s skin as if it had teeth, but she wasn’t talking about the temperature. Fog was rolling down from the fells that circled Ullswater, anonymising familiar scenes, blotting out fields and houses with a relentless tide of grey. Visibility was shrinking by the minute. Soon the lake would disappear beneath a cold and eerie blanket.

Yes, nobody in his right mind would row out on such an afternoon, but Daniel was no longer sure Oz Knight was in his right mind. It still wasn’t impossible that he’d simply wandered off on his own to blow away the cobwebs. Melody couldn’t be one hundred per cent certain he had taken the boat out, but he’d thrown away his mobile close by, and King Ulf was nowhere to be seen.

‘Is something preying on his conscience?’

‘What?’ She almost choked with anger. ‘He’s facing bankruptcy, and the last time I let him try to make love to me, he couldn’t even get it up. So much for the smart businessman and the smooth Lothario. Is that enough to satisfy your curiosity, Daniel, is that what you want to hear?’

Her venom made him flinch. ‘About Terri’s death. If there’s anything …’

‘No!’ She cried out as if in pain. ‘What are you suggesting? Oz isn’t a violent man. He liked Terri. He’d never have harmed a hair on her head.’

‘What about Shenagh — might he have harmed her?’

‘Don’t be stupid!’ she shrieked. ‘My husband would never kill anyone. Let alone a woman who drove him almost insane with lust. He’s beaten, don’t you see? Everything he’s worked for is in ruins, and Terri’s murder is the final straw.’

He clenched his fists, fighting for calm. ‘Sorry, Melody, but we won’t help Oz by arguing. Will you ring the police or shall I?’

She pulled out her mobile. ‘I’ll do it. And I’ll go and fetch the people from Fell View. It will be quicker if I run along the shore, than going back down Ravenbank Lane.’

‘Okay, I’ll stay here till reinforcements arrive.’

She hurried away down the shore path. He saw her speak into the phone, and when the call was over, break into a graceful, loping run. He watched until the path climbed upwards and away from the water, and she vanished into the trees.

He gazed out across the lake. The fog was freezing, and denser than it had been even five minutes earlier. What was Oz Knight playing at? Was he intent on suicide? His throat dry, Daniel wondered if he might yet come face to face with a corpse for the second time in a week. For all the warm lining of his jacket, he found it impossible to stop shivering.