Martin Edwards - The Hanging Wood

‘I gather you helped with the search party?’

‘First around this site, later in the grounds of the Hall. Things were different then. The Mockbeggar Estate was very much out of bounds. Alfred Hopes had a passion for keeping himself — and his property — to himself. I remember having to cut through a barbed wire fence to save time before the search began. The very thought of the hoi polloi trespassing sent Alfred into a lather.’

‘But this was an emergency. A child was missing.’

‘Yes, we needed to rule out the possibility that Callum was on the estate, even though the chances were negligible. We were clutching at straws. Poor Kit had his hands full with Niamh. They were desperate to find the lad. We all were.’

‘Eventually Alfred Hopes relented, and allowed you in.’

‘Fleur persuaded her grandfather that we couldn’t waste any more time. If the boy was lying somewhere, injured and unable to move — well, it didn’t bear thinking about. Sadly, we found what we expected to find. Nothing.’

‘Meanwhile, Mike Hinds was pointing the finger at Philip. Not much brotherly love there, then?’

‘The two of them were chalk and cheese,’ Gareth said. ‘They were never close.’

‘But to suggest that Philip was a murderer?’

‘Mike’s son was missing, remember? He was beside himself.’

‘Why did he detest Philip?’

‘He hated the idea of having an inadequate brother depending on our family for his home and a few pounds to live on. Whenever I saw them together, poor Philip managed to get on Mike’s nerves. It usually ended in a shouting match. Or rather, a mismatch. Mike ranted until he was hoarse, Philip just let it wash over him.’

‘And then Philip Hinds hanged himself.’

Kit flinched. ‘I need no reminding of that, Chief Inspector.’

Gareth said quickly, ‘It was a difficult time for everyone, especially Kit and Niamh. I always had a soft spot for Philip, and so did my father. The day Callum went missing, I’d asked Philip to do some work, repairing a damaged fence. When Niamh raised the alarm, Philip joined in the search. At first, none of us dreamed that…’

‘You believe he killed Callum?’

‘I’m sure it wasn’t deliberate. My guess is that Callum was injured in some kind of horseplay, causing Philip to do something completely out of character.’

Kit muttered, ‘The simple explanation is usually right.’

‘Thank you for your help,’ she said.

‘Is that all?’

‘For the moment, yes.’ She shared a tight smile with Greg Wharf. ‘Now, can you direct us to the Hanging Wood?’

‘Fancy an ice cream?’ Greg asked.

A kiosk built into the back corner of the country club sold ices and cold drinks. Upmarket ices and cold drinks, naturally.

Hannah gave him a sidelong look. ‘We’re working, don’t forget.’

‘Yeah, might as well enjoy it.’

‘All right, mine’s a 99.’

‘Easily persuaded,’ he said. ‘Excellent, I knew it wasn’t true what they say.’

She halted mid stride, unable to resist rising to the bait. ‘What do they say?’

‘That you are a workaholic.’ He showed sharp white teeth. ‘A perfectionist who drives herself too hard.’

‘Then just to prove I know how to have a really good time, you can buy me a double 99. Sod the cholesterol, live for the moment.’

He pretended to clap. ‘That’s the spirit, ma’am. Throw caution to the wind.’

As he vaulted over a low railing to join a natty septuagenarian couple in the queue at the kiosk, she caught herself assessing his sinewy physique. Must be a touch of the sun — how long since she last checked someone out like this? Not that she had any intention of succumbing to Greg Wharf’s macho charm. It was just a relief to take any interest in a man again; the nonsense with Marc had torpedoed her morale at the precise moment when she’d started shunting her career out of the siding and back on track.

Greg’s short sleeves revealed powerful forearms. He kept himself fit and was a permanent fixture at the top of the division’s squash ladder. Macho men weren’t her type, and when Greg first joined the team, she’d been wary of his reputation for making trouble. Not least because of his womanising. But so far he’d managed to keep his hands off Linz Waller, to Hannah’s surprise and Linz’s barely concealed disappointment. After a few initial skirmishes ending with honours even, he’d given Hannah support in team meetings; all the more useful because everyone knew he was nobody’s yes-man. As a detective, his cussed refusal to settle for easy answers had helped him bond with Les Bryant. They made an odd couple: a grumpy old man and a Jack the Lad, moaning each winter Monday about the football refereeing they’d witnessed over the weekend. Hannah enjoyed their dry wit, even though she scarcely knew a late tackle from an offside trap. Les lived alone these days — on one extraordinary occasion, he’d had a blind date with Terri, but that particular match was made in Hell, not Heaven — and as far as Hannah knew, Greg wasn’t seeing anyone. Not in the force, at least, or news would have sped along the county’s busiest grapevine.

‘Don’t say I never give you anything,’ he said, presenting her with the double 99. ‘You deserve a bit of sin in your life.’

He’d invested in a Diet Coke for himself, a sardonic nod to virtue, and they planted themselves on a bench overlooking a duck pond carpeted in red cup lilies with maroon foliage. A plaque on the bench recalled a deceased caravan owner who loved this park for 30 years .

‘So what do you reckon to Madsen’s?’ she asked.

‘Give me Tenerife any day. Thirty years in a holiday park? Sounds like a life sentence to me. Fuck me, it’s nearly half a lifetime! Probably two-thirds in my case, given how much I like the ale, and that I only packed in smoking last year.’

No beer belly, though, she couldn’t help noticing. ‘I never knew you were a smoker.’

‘Twenty-a-day man.’ He held up a neatly manicured hand. ‘Forensics wouldn’t find it difficult to spot the nicotine traces. On the morning my decree absolute came through, I decided to make a fresh start. Threw my packet of Player’s in the bin, and I’ve never touched one since.’

‘You must have needed self-discipline to manage that.’

‘Believe it or not, ma’am, I am capable of it.’ He lifted his eyebrows a fraction. ‘If the moon’s in the right quarter.’

Hannah pretended to absorb herself in her ice cream and chocolate flakes. Greg’s knack of making her feel he could read her mind was unsettling.

‘What I meant was, how do you see Kit Payne? Grieving step-parent or a man with something to hide?’

‘Bit of both, shouldn’t wonder.’ He ripped the ring pull off his can and took a swig. ‘I told myself not to be prejudiced, just because he looks like the Elephant Man’s love child. But he’s twitchy about the cold case. I reckon Bryan and Gareth Madsen are, as well, but they are too streetwise to show it.’

‘Scarcely a surprise.’ She waved towards the septuagenarians, who were tucking into their cornets as they moaned to each other about the cost of private health insurance. ‘Any bad vibes might make the caravan folk pause before frittering their kids’ inheritance on another year’s site fees.’

‘I say it’s worth nosing around in the Madsens’ lives as long as the ACC stays on board. Payne’s life too. It suited everyone for Philip to take the rap. Along with his pig.’

‘The pig couldn’t answer back, either. Especially after it ran off.’

‘Everything was made so easy for Will Durston to wind down the investigation. He was given all he needed to close the file.’