Martin Edwards - The Frozen Shroud

He shared the colossal L-shaped sofa with Jeffrey sprawling on one side of him, Quin and Robin Park on the other. Robin said sotto voce , ‘If you ask me, this could be a blessing in disguise.’

‘Too right,’ Quin murmured. ‘Frankly, he had this coming.’

Daniel glanced at Jeffrey, and saw that he’d heard the exchange. He was keeping his counsel. Brow furrowed, lips clamped shut. A faint sheen glistened on his forehead. He must be out of condition if the mild exertion of walking up from the shore made him sweat.

Both Robin Park and Quin were constructing narratives that cast Oz as Terri’s murderer. Daniel wasn’t sure whether they genuinely believed this or simply found it convenient to have a fresh scapegoat in place of Stefan. As for Melody, how much did she know, and what did she believe? Sitting in a vast recliner, with her eyes closed, she looked unexpectedly at peace. Impossible to guess what thoughts were spinning through her mind.

The phone rang, shattering the quiet. With a muffled cry, Melody opened her eyes. She put her hand to her mouth.

‘I’ll get it.’ Miriam picked up the receiver. ‘Hello? Do you want to speak to Mrs Knight?’

Melody shook her head frantically. Miriam listened to someone speaking at the other end of the line. Her eyes flickered with anxiety.

‘Yes? … yes, I see. Well, thank you … I’ll tell her, of course.’

She put the receiver down and heaved a sigh.

‘They’ve found Oz …’

‘Thank God!’ Jeffrey interrupted, wiping his forehead with a theatrical flourish.

Miriam’s frown of reproach reminded Daniel of a teacher rebuking an ill-mannered pupil. ‘The wind had driven his boat to Sharrow Bay.’

‘How is he, Mum?’

Robin sounded nervous, and Quin was chewing his fingernails.

‘He’s still breathing, but barely conscious. They reckon he’s suffering from hypothermia. An ambulance is taking him to hospital right now. He’s in a bad way.’

Fern was still tucking into her Stromboli De Luxe when Hannah took a call from Daniel. Leaning against the kitchen table, she listened to the latest news, along with an outline of the Knights’ troubles, and Jeffrey Burgoyne’s habit of inflicting domestic violence on Alex Quinlan.

‘Interesting,’ Hannah said. ‘Fern is spending the night here, so I’ll brief her. I’d be glad of full chapter and verse about your conversations with people who were at the Knights’ party. Can we get together tomorrow? Will you be at Brackdale, or are you on your travels?’

‘I was planning to go back in time. I’ve decided the history of murder suits me much better than homicide in the here and now. When Melody begged me to come back to Ravenbank, I was on my way to Keswick Museum. I meant to go there tomorrow morning, but if …’

‘No, no, don’t change your plans. Let’s meet in Keswick.’

‘Fine, lunch at the theatre? With any luck, we’ll bump into Jeffrey and Quin, so you can kill two birds with one stone. Their show launches next week, and they will be rehearsing.’

‘Perfect.’

Fern refilled their glasses with Chablis as Hannah updated her. Marc had laid down some cases of fine wine a few weeks before moving out, and she’d come across them at the weekend during a clear-out of the cellar. It would be rude, as Fern agreed, to let them go to waste. And absolutely stupid to hand them back to him.

‘Well, well.’ She washed down the last of her pizza with a large gulp of wine and burped happily. ‘So Ben’s lad is doing some detective work of his own?’

‘He’s in the thick of this case, after helping to find Terri’s body. Possibly he’ll get more out of one or two witnesses than we can. People find him easy to talk to, he’s a brilliant listener. Plus, I suppose, they enjoy rubbing shoulders with someone who used to be on telly.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m not complaining. We keep running these campaigns to ask members of the public to help us, after all. Daniel’s one of the good guys.’ She chortled. ‘Wouldn’t kick him out of bed, either.’

‘Behave.’

‘Just saying.’ Fern guffawed, but a piece of pizza stuck in her throat, and she half-choked herself. ‘Oh God, serves me right, I know. All right, where are we up to? Let’s kick off by leaving Deyna out of the equation. Odious creep, but I’m sure he was set up.’

‘Like Craig Meek.’

‘Yeah, yeah, deja vu all over again. Daniel guessed right, by the way. The Knights sleep in separate rooms. They were totally upfront about it when they were interviewed. According to their statements, they went straight to bed after the ghost hunt. With an estimated time of death in the early hours of that morning, neither of them has an alibi.’

Hannah fished a couple of Mars bar ice creams out of the freezer. Fern’s ideal dessert recipe involved having her Mars bars deep fried, but this was the best she could do. ‘Five years ago, they were sleeping together. At least, that’s what they said at the time when they made statements and gave each other alibis. Question is whether they were telling porkies.’

‘Why would they lie last time, but tell the truth now?’

‘Relationships change over time,’ Hannah said. ‘Cold case work has brought that home to me. Love fades, loyalties shift.’

‘Ha! Tell me about it.’ Fern had had her share of romantic disasters.

‘Say Oz was afraid of being suspected of Shenagh’s murder, and spun Melody a yarn, asking her to lie for him. I bet she was under his thumb. He was rich, powerful, controlling. With Shenagh out of the way, she’d have him to herself again. It’s different now. If his business is stuffed, she’ll need to make a new life. He’s lost his hold on her, she doesn’t need him any more.’

Fern sank her teeth into the chocolate. ‘Mmmm, just what the doctor ordered. The stress counsellor, anyway. Seems to me, we need to have a word with Mr Knight, as soon as he’s in a fit state.’

‘Assuming he recovers.’

‘He’ll recover,’ Fern said briskly. ‘Mild hypothermia won’t kill him, he won’t so much as lose a little toe. His body has a decent layer of fat. All those expense account meals have come in handy, even if he couldn’t afford the expense account.’

‘I’m assuming you see this as attempted suicide?’

‘Well, he wasn’t admiring the scenery on a day like today, was he?’

‘So it’s a sign of guilt?’

‘I’d prefer a signed confession approved by his lawyers, but beggars can’t be choosers. This little mishap will take some explaining. Oh, if he doesn’t cough when he wakes up, I expect he’ll say he couldn’t face the prospect of financial ruin, and decided to row off into oblivion. But I’ll get the truth out of him, one way or another.’

‘You’re confident he did it?’

‘He has to be a strong favourite. Obsessed with Shenagh, unable to let go.’

‘I see from the old file that Francis Palladino said she’d persuaded him to go out to Australia with her.’

‘Yeah, that tickled me. She was giving up Oz — so she could go to Oz.’ Fern’s massive boobs wobbled as she guffawed. ‘Francis said the Hall held unhappy memories because of his wife’s long illness, and a warmer climate would benefit his arthritis.’

‘According to the notes Les made, Oz had already put in an offer to buy the Hall.’

Fern rubbed her chins. ‘Actually, you’re right. I remember now. Though with Shenagh dead, Francis stayed put until he died.’

‘Which means Oz had conflicting emotions about Shenagh’s impending emigration. He’d lose an ex-lover, and gain a big posh house.’

‘Swings and roundabouts, huh? I see where you’re going with this. If Oz meant to buy the Hall, he’d reconciled himself to losing Shenagh.’