Martin Edwards: The Frozen Shroud

‘She’d have gone into the stratosphere!’

‘Yeah, I wished them luck as far as that was concerned, and Robin said he’d certainly need it. He was dreading the conversation. It was the anniversary of his father’s death, and his mother was bound to be upset.’

‘Yes,’ Hannah said slowly. ‘Terri spent Monday night at my house. He decided it was better to break it to Miriam one-to-one, rather than have Terri by his side.’

‘Very wise,’ Jeffrey said. ‘It could have become quite … difficult for all concerned.’

‘Which estate agent was it?’ Hannah asked.

Quin told her. ‘I suppose Robin will be staying in Ravenbank for good now.’

‘Not necessarily,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

She stood up. ‘Daniel’s done some brilliant detective work, discovering the truth about Gertrude Smith. Fascinating story. Why don’t you listen to him explain while I get back to the job? He’s proved once and for all that history does repeat itself.’

‘Don’t go in there on your own,’ Fern said on the phone.

‘It’s only an idea. We don’t have enough evidence to make an arrest.’

‘Ashok and Jodie are on their way. Two of my young stars. And Ashok’s built like a bull.’

‘I’m not expecting any trouble.’

‘Better safe than sorry.’ Fern paused to let the advice sink in. ‘Okay?’

‘See you later.’

Hannah killed the call, and switched on the ignition. She’d parked at Ravenbank Corner, and, through the crime scene tape, she’d contemplated the muddy ground by the beck for fully five minutes before ringing Fern. So this was where Terri’s life came to its sad and futile end. It was tempting to walk over to the spot, but she’d stayed in the car. Later, there would be time to pay her respects. Now there was work to do.

Soon the whole sorry business would be over. A thrill of anticipation rippled through her. She was convinced she knew the truth.

‘So there is a connection between the murders of Shenagh and Terri?’ Quin asked.

He and Daniel were in the foyer, while Jeffrey talked business with one of the theatre trustees. Both the actors were in high good humour. The first night was a sell-out, and there was only a handful of seats left for the other performances.

Daniel nodded. ‘You were close to Shenagh, weren’t you?’

‘We used to meet late at night in the woods. Her excuse was taking the dog for a walk, mine was that I couldn’t sleep. Jeffrey thought I was downstairs, learning my lines, when I was with Shenagh. She wasn’t going to leave Francis, any more than I planned to dump Jeffrey. It was harmless fun for both of us, just a break from the routine. Exciting — made a change, you know?’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘Unfortunately, one night Jeffrey came down, and discovered I wasn’t there, so there was hell to pay. This was only a couple of nights before the murder. Otherwise — we’d have met up on Hallowe’en.’

‘Did you think Jeffrey killed her?’

‘I hadn’t a clue what to think.’ In an unconscious gesture, Quin rubbed his cheek. ‘He has quite a temper, you know. But everyone seemed to think Craig Meek was responsible, and that was good enough for me.’

‘But Terri’s death changed things.’

‘Of course. Old wounds opened up again.’

‘Just as you suspected Jeffrey, he suspected you.’

Quin nodded. ‘Crazy, isn’t it?’

Hannah drove a hundred yards along Ravenbank Lane, coming to a halt opposite Beck Cottage. A variegated ivy smothered the front wall, and even at this time of year, the window-box flowers were a mass of blue and yellow. She imagined Terri falling in love with the place. At every window, the curtains were drawn.

One of the ground floor curtains twitched. The sound of her car engine must have attracted attention. She’d thought it might. Her gaze bored into the front door, straining to penetrate the secrets hidden behind it.

As the door opened, she wound down her window. Robin Park’s slim figure appeared. He was wearing a scruffy T-shirt and jeans, and hadn’t shaved. In the space of twenty-four hours, he’d aged years. She was pretty sure he hadn’t slept, and also that he hadn’t kept awake fretting over Oz Knight. His eyes widened, in something more than astonishment. Her spine tingled with excitement. Robin was frightened of her.

‘What brings you here?’

‘One or two more questions I’d like to ask, if you don’t mind.’

He blinked. ‘You’d better come in.’

She could wait, of course. Ought to wait, actually. Ashok and Zoe wouldn’t be long. Usually, she could be patient, and sometimes she even managed to be sensible. But not today, not when justice for Terri was within touching distance.

She opened her car door. There’d be time later, lots of it, to worry about Fern’s outrage at her cavalier disregard for procedure. But this was about Terri, nothing else.

Robin stood aside, and waved her past him, into the hallway. With a bang, he slammed the door behind her.

‘Who is it, Robin?’ A woman’s voice, coming from the kitchen. So Miriam Park was here. Hannah had hoped she would be.

‘Terri’s friend, Mum.’ He took a breath. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Scarlett.’

Miriam plodded out into the hall, wiping her hands on her apron. A grey-haired woman, not wearing a trace of make-up. Hannah knew she was sixty-five, and she looked every day of that, but her build was sturdy, her jaw square and uncompromising. Hadn’t Robin said something about his failure to inherit sporting skills? His father had been a musician who owned a bar; his mother must be the sporty one. Deep lines were etched into her face; bags hung below her eyes. The woman was exhausted, and only sheer will power was keeping her on her feet.

Hannah offered her hand. Miriam’s grip was firm, her fingers thick and powerful.

‘I gather you were a sportswoman in your younger days.’

The older woman straightened with pride. ‘I played hockey for the county when I was only seventeen. People said I could go on to play for England, but my parents weren’t well, and I was working long hours to keep things going, so that all went by the board. After Mum and Dad died, I joined the Army. Before long they sent me to Belfast, at the height of the Troubles. One or two things I saw there, no young woman should have to see.’

‘I can imagine,’ Hannah said softly.

‘I was homesick, and had a bit of a … well, a breakdown, I suppose you’d call it. But I got over it, and got out of the Army. Then I came back to the Lakes for good.’

‘Your husband was a musician, Robin told me.’

‘I met and married him within six weeks of leaving the Army. Before he could change his mind.’ Miriam wasn’t smiling, and there wasn’t a hint of sentimentality in the faded grey eyes. ‘I’ve never believed in messing about, it gets you nowhere. Believe me, Bobby had his faults, but it was the best thing I ever did.’

Her gaze settled on her son, who shifted uncomfortably. ‘Would you like to come into the living room, Hannah?’

‘Kitchen’s warmer,’ his mother said. ‘Thanks to the stove.’

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and marched through the kitchen door. Robin’s shoulders drooped in despair. Hannah followed Miriam, and after a moment’s hesitation, he joined them.

The kitchen looked as though it had been extended by knocking through into an old scullery. The units were pine, some built-in, some free-standing, and Hannah recalled seeing something similar in a brochure when she and Marc had been planning the renovation of Undercrag. The price had been out of their reach, but Francis Palladino’s will had left Miriam a wealthy woman. She might not have invested in her own appearance, but she’d spent lavishly on her domestic kingdom. As promised, the wood-burning stove gave off plenty of heat. Hannah’s arrival had interrupted the preparation of a steak casserole. Two succulent fillets lay on a chopping board on one of the work surfaces. The smell of garlic, and of an onion chopped into half a dozen wedges, hung in the air.