Martin Edwards - The Cipher Garden

‘You stupid cow, I bet you’ve got her wondering what you’re keeping back.’

‘Honestly, Sam, I didn’t even hint…’

‘What did you say to her?’

‘Nothing, nothing at all. It was only a short conversation. She gave up in the end, I think she realised she wasn’t getting anywhere.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive, but I don’t think she’s going to let go.’

‘Shit.’

‘Listen, Sam, she knows something we don’t. You know the anonymous letters? I think whoever sent them has written to the police as well. This Chief Inspector won’t let go, she isn’t the type. She’ll want to talk to you soon, for sure.’

‘Fit, is she?’

‘You won’t get anywhere if you try to chat her up, Sam. Why don’t you tell the truth? Please?’

‘About what?’

‘About what you were doing the day that Dad died.’

‘Don’t be so fucking stupid.’

‘They’ll keep asking questions.’

‘Hey, if you don’t give me away, I’m safe.’ His voice softened and in a heartbeat he became the brother she dreamed of. ‘I’m depending on you, Kirsty. All right?’

Tina Howe was on her own in the office when Hannah arrived, scanning in photographs of a newly completed garden project. Peter Flint was working over in Hawkshead with Sam, she said, so she was catching up while she had peace and quiet. Her composure was as immaculate as her black business suit. Versace, Armani? Hannah hadn’t a clue; the closest she came to designer-wear was leafing through the colour supplements. No one could doubt that this was Tina’s domain, that she was in charge. She nodded Hannah towards a chair with crisp authority, as if greeting a tedious sales rep.

‘Matter of fact, Chief Inspector, I was wondering when you might show your face.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Kirsty called half an hour ago, told me you’d spoken to her about Warren’s murder. I guessed you’d make this your next stop.’ Tina glared. ‘She’s in a right state.’

‘We only talked for a few minutes, but I’m sorry if she’s upset.’

‘It’s hard for her, she was very close to her father, she went to hell and back after he died.’

Hannah gave a no-harm-done smile. Tina’s agenda couldn’t have been clearer if typed out in bold twenty-point capitals. The family were victims, not suspects. Put a foot wrong and complaints would come flying in to Lauren.

‘When she’s slept on our conversation, I’m sure she’ll appreciate that it’s in everyone’s interest for us to review the case. We owe it to you and your family, Mrs Howe. You deserve justice. So does your late husband.’

Tina raised thick dark eyebrows. She wasn’t conventionally attractive, yet you scarcely noticed that. For most men, the revealing blouse, short skirt and musky perfume would make up for a lot.

‘Why now? What’s woken up the guardians of justice?’

Don’t let her needle you, Hannah told herself. This isn’t the sort of women who likes members of her own sex. Let alone female police officers.

‘I explained to your daughter that we’ve received additional information about the case.’

‘An anonymous letter?’

Hannah leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk that formed a barrier between them, cupping her chin in her hands. Invading Tina’s space.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

‘Sorry, Mrs Howe, I can’t comment on that. But I would like to know why you mentioned an anonymous letter.’

Tina put her hands behind her head and breathed out. Hannah guessed it was a well-practised pose. Never mind the horsy jaw, Tina exuded confidence. If she’d let something slip by mistake, she wasn’t going to let it bother her. She’d seen the police off years ago, she could do it again. Hannah half expected a couple of buttons on the silk blouse to pop.

‘I received one myself this week.’

‘Concerning the death of your husband?’

‘Correct.’

‘What did it say?’

‘Can’t remember the exact words, it was only a sentence.’

‘I’d have thought it would stick in your mind.’

‘Frankly, I only glanced at the thing for a couple of seconds.’ Tina shrugged. ‘Did it say I was a murdering bitch? I’m not sure. Something like that.’

Too smooth, Hannah thought, too much like a disdainful actress, rolling out well-rehearsed lines. Yet why would anyone fib about such an accusation, the same accusation made in the tip-off letter?

‘May I see it?’

Tina clicked her tongue. ‘Really, Chief Inspector. You don’t think I would keep garbage like that? I tore the letter up and put it in our shredder at home.’

‘Was the letter typed?’

‘Handwritten. A sort of stencilling. I didn’t check the postmark, I presume it was local.’

‘Who do you think might have sent it?’

‘No idea.’

Not true, Hannah thought, looking at Tina’s narrowed eyes and the way her lips compressed, as if striving to keep a secret.

‘Why would anyone send such a letter to you?’

‘I’m not a psychiatrist, Chief Inspector. There are a lot of sick people in the world, you must know that better than me. Mind you, the police don’t seem very effective when it comes to making sure they are put somewhere they can’t do any harm.’

‘You said at the time that you and your children were up on the Hardknott Pass at the time of your husband’s murder.’

‘Correct.’

‘Any points in your original statement that you’d like to clarify with the benefit of hindsight?’

‘Absolutely none.’

‘Your husband had an affair with Gail Flint.’

Tina snorted with laughter. ‘For goodness sake, Chief Inspector, you’re going to have to understand my husband better. He had lots of affairs and we never discussed one. They meant nothing to him and so they meant nothing to me.’

‘Who do you think killed him?’

‘I rather thought it was your job to tell me that.’

‘You must have turned it over in your mind.’

‘You think it’s so simple, do you, Chief Inspector Scarlett? I suppose you believe you can walk into people’s lives and throw them into turmoil and then come up with a solution, neatly packed for the media. Fast-tracked for promotion, are you?’

If only you knew . ‘Are you saying that you don’t have the faintest idea who might have wanted to kill your husband?’

‘Ah, that’s a different question, isn’t it? Fact is, it could have been anyone. A scorned woman, an enraged husband. Warren was careless, that was his downfall. He didn’t mind whoever he hurt. I can only assume he hurt the wrong person and paid the price. A terrible price, but people do terrible things in this world. Don’t you agree?’

‘Simple as that? Person or persons unknown?’

‘Well, yes. It will be to do with shagging the wrong woman at the wrong time, if you ask me. When it came to sex, he was insatiable. Believe me, jealousy didn’t come into it, I was almost relieved whenever someone else took a turn, it meant I got let off a bit more lightly. But I’ll tell you this. Those other women, they would never have had the balls to stay the course with Warren.’

Her head tilted upwards, as if she took pride in having married a Casanova. How could any woman keep so cool when confronted with her man’s infidelity? Hannah’s thoughts flitted back to Marc’s confession of a long ago dalliance with Leigh Moffatt’s sister and her own scorching sense of humiliation.

‘So you can’t confirm that the relationship ended shortly before your husband was killed?’

‘Sorry. You’ll have to interrogate Gail.’

‘Ironic that you are now in a relationship with Mr Flint.’

‘For goodness’ sake. He’s a free agent.’ Tina smirked. ‘A consenting adult.’