Martin Edwards: The Frozen Shroud

He groaned. ‘You know something? You’re starting to sound like Mum.’

Not so long ago, the jibe would have provoked anger. Instead, Louise laughed. He was glad; she was loosening up at last.

‘Oh God. Perhaps that’s every woman’s fate. To finish up talking and acting like their mother.’

‘There are worse fates. You’re wrong about Hannah, anyway. She’s shut me out, not the other way around.’

‘You’re imagining it. Trust me, Daniel. For a smart guy, you’re really not that smart when it comes to women.’

‘After I last met Hannah for a drink, I rang a couple of times, and left voicemail messages. Sent her an email. She did reply in the end, very brief. Said she was up to her eyes with a couple of cases, and she’d get back in touch soon. That was five weeks ago.’

Five weeks, two days, in fact. Not that he’d been counting.

‘She’s a senior police officer. Her life isn’t her own.’

‘I’m not complaining. Hannah and I are still mates, always will be.’

‘You fancy her like mad, I can tell.’

‘She needs space. Don’t forget, she’s had a rough year. Splitting up with Marc, finding that mutilated body on the farm. Horrible.’

‘Don’t be so bloody altruistic. You’d do her good. A lot more good than Marc Amos, for sure. For all I know, he still nurses the fantasy she might take him back one day. As if. She’ll never forget what he got up to with that girl who worked for him.’

Louise’s last lover had also been a philanderer. She was determined to scrub him out of her memory, and his name was never mentioned. Marc Amos was a dummy target for the scorn she felt for the man who had hurt her.

He knew better than to argue with her. You could never win. He manoeuvred the car down the narrow passage leading out of the car park, a task complicated by defunct bulbs in several of the lamps fixed on the pub wall. Suddenly, he braked, before putting his foot down after a few seconds, so that the car shot forward and out into the lane.

‘Wow!’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘You’ll never guess.’

He felt a stab of astonishment at what he’d seen. Two figures in the shadows. Jeffrey Burgoyne had slammed the side door of the Grim Reaper behind him, and then slapped Quin’s cheek so hard that he staggered backwards and almost lost his footing. A stinging blow on the same cheek Jeffrey had stroked a few minutes earlier.

Hannah Scarlett stuck out her tongue at the computer screen, trying to make sense of rows of figures on a spreadsheet. The numbers made her brain hurt. To round off her Monday, she was due to see the Assistant Chief Commissioner for a meeting she was sure to hate. Only one thing occupied Lauren Self’s thoughts at present. Costs must be cut. Where to swing the axe?

The silence was broken by the opening bars of the theme from Doctor Who . She’d forgotten to switch off her personal mobile. Any interruption was welcome, but her finance report was overdue. Swearing, she delved into the Aladdin’s cave of her bag and fished out the phone. This had better not be Marc. Each conversation with him felt like tiptoeing around the rim of a live volcano. If he wasted her time, she might be the one to explode.

The caller’s name made her blink in surprise. Terri .

Her oldest friend, and the world’s worst gossip. Terri was capable of driving Hannah to distraction, but not so selfish as to gatecrash a detective chief inspector’s working day simply for a natter.

‘Hannah?’

No apology for the interruption. The way Terri spoke her name made Hannah’s skin prickle. Terri’s dad wasn’t in good health, and though they’d been estranged for a long time, if anything had happened to him, she’d be distraught.

‘Something wrong?’

‘You could say that.’ Deep breath. ‘Actually, I’m scared shitless.’

Hannah’s stomach knotted. ‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s Stefan.’

Terri claimed to have only three faults. Eating the wrong kind of food, drinking the wrong kind of booze, and shagging the wrong kind of man. She wasn’t fat, and she wasn’t an alcoholic, but it was a miracle some of the creeps she’d fallen for hadn’t screwed her up permanently. Stefan Deyna worked in a bar, and after a good start, their relationship had sped downhill. He was now beating off strong competition to top the league table of Terri’s all-time worst mistakes. So many of her exes were lazy, feckless, two-timing wastes of space. But Stefan, unique among them, had a violent streak. As well as a not-yet-divorced wife back in Poland whom he hadn’t thought to mention until a co-worker let the cat out of the bag. His reaction had been to bluster with Terri, and break the co-worker’s cheekbone. His employer sacked him on the spot, leaving him with time on his hands to make her life a misery.

‘Has he hurt you?’

‘No, but the bastard keeps insisting I see him. I tell him to piss off, but he won’t take no for an answer. Last night, he followed me home in a car. He doesn’t own a car, so I’d guess he nicked it. We had a row and I ended up scratching his face.’

Good for you, but …

‘What happened?’

‘We were arguing outside my front door. He was angry, and pushed me hard enough to make me fall. I grazed my knee, you should see the bruise, but I picked myself up and launched myself at him. Dug my nails across his cheek, as hard as I could.’

Hannah winced. Terri had very long nails.

‘Let’s just say, he won’t be winning a beauty contest any time soon.’

He never would have done, but Hannah found it impossible not to give Terri a silent cheer. For courage, if not common sense.

‘You took a hell of a risk. What did he do?’

‘While he was mopping up the blood, I whipped my key out of my bag and ran inside. He was banging the door so hard, I thought he’d break it down. Or break his knuckles.’

‘You should have called me.’

‘I was about to, but the racket stopped. I thought he’d gone away, but when I looked out of the window he was sitting there in his car. In the dark. Just watching and waiting.’

‘How long did he stay?’

‘About an hour. Finally, he decided I wasn’t going anywhere, and drove off. It was barely eight o’clock, but I went straight to bed, I was knackered.’

She must have been. Terri’s head seldom hit the pillow before midnight. Most of the calamities she’d got herself into over the years had happened in the small hours, after too many Bacardi and cokes.

‘You’re not at work now?’

‘No, I invented a trip to the dentist. Bit of a risk, since I only started there ten weeks ago. But my boss is sweet, and we’re not busy, so it’ll be fine.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Pretty crap, if you want the truth. This morning, Stefan phoned again. Of course I didn’t talk to him. He kept ringing, so I took the receiver off the hook.’

‘You said you were going to buy a new phone, and change your number.’

‘I know, I know. I’ve a lot happening in my life at present, you’ve no idea. My head’s in a whirl.’

Hannah glared at the numbers on the spreadsheet, which didn’t improve the figures or make them go away. She pressed a button, and the screen went blank.

‘Get the phone sorted for a start. Will you do it today?’

‘Don’t be bossy, Hannah, please. I’m not in the mood, all right?’

‘Sorry, it’s only that-’

‘You’re trying to do the right thing?’ An exaggerated sigh. ‘Good old Hannah. You always do the right thing, don’t you?’

If only. ‘Listen, Terri, I want to help.’

‘I’ve got so much on my plate. I’d love to see you, if you’re not otherwise engaged.’