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Authors: Martin Edwards

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BOOK: The Frozen Shroud
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Daniel said, ‘The police will be working night and day on the case. Don’t forget, Terri was best mates with one of their senior detectives.’

‘And she’s a friend of yours,’ Oz snapped. ‘How does she feel about letting loose the man who almost certainly killed her friend?’

‘No one wants justice for Terri more than Hannah.’

‘Justice!’ It was almost a snarl. ‘Then I wonder why she let—’

‘Hannah isn’t part of the investigating team.’ Daniel fought back a rising anger. ‘It wasn’t her decision to release the man.’

Oz said, ‘This uncertainty makes people think there’s no smoke without fire. None of us can relax.’

He poured himself and his wife yet another glass of wine. Daniel was glad he’d stuck to orange juice. With a touch of malice, Oz added, ‘Even you must feel uncomfortable, Daniel. You were at the party with the rest of us.’

‘I feel worse than uncomfortable,’ Daniel said quietly. ‘I liked Terri, though I didn’t know her well. I’d like nothing better than to see whoever did this put behind bars.’

Melody forced a laugh. ‘Before long, rumours will start flying that everyone who came to the party was in it together. Like that film, you know, on the train.’

‘Robin and Terri didn’t quarrel, did they?’ Daniel asked. ‘Is there any reason for him to worry about the police?’

‘None whatsoever,’ Oz said wearily. ‘She was vivacious and good-looking, but – how can I put this? – more mature than Robin’s previous girlfriends. At least those I’ve met.’

‘Did any of them last long?’

‘Nope, there was never any question until now of Robin settling down with someone, far less setting up home somewhere new. But if you ask me, he’s scared stiff. When
one person in a relationship is killed, the other partner inevitably comes under the spotlight.’

‘Better take special care of me, then, darling.’ Melody’s smile was strained, her voice cracking. Daniel frowned; she was too close to the edge for comfort. ‘We’re deep enough in the shit as it is.’

 

‘Fern’s right, if you ask me,’ Les Bryant said. ‘I don’t believe that bastard killed Terri.’

He and Hannah were taking a quick bite of lunch together in the staff restaurant, Les feasting on a bacon, egg and sausage bap while she dipped her wholemeal toast in a pot of hummus.

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘Think about it. It’s clear he was set up. Two women killed in identical circumstances, five years apart? Why would he try to repeat history, what would he have to gain?’

‘And your preferred solution is?’

He chewed furiously. ‘We both knew Terri. The murder victim’s personality is the biggest clue to the motive for the crime.’

‘It doesn’t say that in the Murder Investigation Manual.’

‘No, but it bloody well ought to.’

‘I’m not sure I like the idea that Terri brought her own murder upon herself.’

‘You’re a DCI, and your mate’s been beaten to death,’ he growled. ‘You can’t afford to be prissy about this. I’m not saying Terri was killed because of anything she did consciously. Maybe it was because someone had reason to be afraid of her.’

‘Where are you going with this?’

He wiped the runny egg from his grizzled chin. ‘She was a livewire, right? Into everything, like a little kid.’

‘Yes.’ That was Terri’s gift, her boundless enthusiasm, her love of life. ‘She was incorrigible.’

‘What if her curiosity led her to find out something she wasn’t meant to know?’

‘Such as?’

‘Suppose she stumbled on a clue to what really happened at Ravenbank five years previous? Something that pointed the finger at one of her new neighbours?’

‘She’d have told someone, wouldn’t she? Me, for example. She was hiding something from me, yes, but it was the fact that she’d teamed up with this man Robin Park. Daniel and Louise say she was just very happy, looking forward to a new life with him.’

‘What if she didn’t appreciate the significance of what she’d learnt? Whoever killed Shenagh Moss would have to move quick, to get her out of the way before she tumbled to the truth. Park’s stomach bug was a gift, it offered the chance to get Terri on her own late at night, when she’d had too much to drink.’

Hannah smeared margarine on her last piece of toast. ‘Maybe it’s worth someone taking a look at the paperwork on Shenagh’s death.’

He reached into his inside jacket pocket, and pulled out a dog-eared notebook. ‘Mission already accomplished. Just as well I got in quick, given that Fern’s team have just requisitioned the old file. Well, it’s a cold case, any road, so I thought I’d make a few notes on the SIO’s Blue Book, and the investigators’ rough books. Take ’em, for what they’re worth.’

She stretched out a hand. ‘You’re a star. Though I guess you’ve broken half a dozen of Lauren’s rules about information security.’

‘With any luck.’ The craggy face relaxed into a rare grin. ‘What’s the worst that can happen? She’s already given me the sack. That’s why I leaked the restructure to the press. Just on the off chance it might save the jobs of everyone else.’

 

Oz saw Daniel to the door after Melody announced she felt a migraine coming on, and was going upstairs for a rest. At the front step, Oz halted.

‘I’m worried sick about her, you know.’

Daniel mumbled something bland and sympathetic, but his host interrupted. ‘Don’t be fooled by that cool elegance, underneath she is fragile. Long before we ever met, she had a spell in a psychiatric unit. It was to take her mind off our money worries that I encouraged her interest in writing, and the legend of the Frozen Shroud. Big mistake. It’s backfired horribly.’

‘If—’

‘No!’ Oz raised a hand. ‘Let me finish. You and she are never going to prove Letty’s innocence, not after all these years. An ancient murder is the last thing Melody needs on her mind right now.’

‘Yet she could be right about Letty.’

‘What if she is? Who cares?’

Daniel gave a shrug. ‘If someone can be cleared of committing a brutal murder, even long after their death, isn’t that worth caring about?’

‘So you are persisting with this?’

‘Why not? This afternoon, I’m going to Keswick Museum. Roland Jones donated some papers to their archives. I’m hoping to pick up more information about him there.’

‘Letty was sick. If she hadn’t killed herself, she’d never have hanged, not even in Edwardian England. Doesn’t what happened to Terri make what happened years ago seem pretty trivial?’

‘Any historian believes the past can tell us something about the present. Take the murder of Shenagh Moss.’

Oz stiffened. ‘What has Shenagh’s death got to do with anything?’

‘Three women have been battered to death in Ravenbank.’

‘Over a period of a hundred years!’

‘Two of them in the past five. You don’t have to be a conspiracy theorist to suspect there’s a connection.’

Oz strode out into the drive, and Daniel followed to where his car was parked.

‘Far-fetched, if you ask me. Copycat killings are commonplace. Craig Meek hated Shenagh because she’d dumped him, and killed her because of it. End of.’

‘If the obvious suspect has been released from custody, the police are bound to cast their net wider. When you talk to them, I’m sure they will be asking questions about Shenagh. What was she like, did anyone else hate her?’

‘Hate her?’ Oz exhaled, and Daniel smelt the alcohol on his breath. ‘Listen, I’ll tell you something about Shenagh. You’ll have heard that she and I were close? It wasn’t exactly a clandestine affair. She was funny, clever, a vibrant personality. Fabulous to look at, and even better in bed, I don’t mind saying it. It was a miracle old Palladino never
had a heart attack. But she had a hell of an appetite, there was no way the old feller could keep her satisfied.’

‘But your relationship with her didn’t last long?’

‘Melody and I – we’ve had an understanding from day one. She knows what I’m like. When she finally agreed to marry me, we both signed up to the deal. We’re a good team, she’s a sweet lady, and utterly gorgeous into the bargain. But she’s had a hard life … look, we’re both men of the world. She’s a lady to look at rather than touch, if you get my meaning.’

‘She said your flings never last for long. And she did seem pretty relaxed about them. But – was Shenagh different?’

Oz bent his head, and Daniel noticed a bald patch on the crown. Until today, he’d always combed his hair with such care that you couldn’t see it.

‘Shenagh had a low boredom threshold. Once she’d reeled Palladino in, she didn’t need me. An ongoing affair with a married man was a complication too far. She wanted fresh fields to conquer.’

‘Did she find them?’

‘You bet.’ Oz chewed his lower lip. ‘It was insane, but …’

A gust of wind smacked the trees; soon there would be no leaves left on the branches. A crow yelped and flew out from its hiding place in a copper beech. Daniel watched it circle overhead for a few seconds before it headed for the lake.

‘Did she become involved with Quin?’

Oz Knight stared at him. ‘Jesus Christ. How did you know?’

Robin Park’s fingers drummed on the varnished pine table top. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, Hannah.’

It always induced paranoia in her when someone said that. She tried to suppress her curiosity by taking a sip of her latte. The game plan was to listen, not talk.

‘Sorry, I can’t say the same.’

He’d asked her to meet him here in the Jazz Lounge at Pooley Bridge. They were sharing a discreet corner with a piano and stool. Not that there was any need for discretion, with no other customers. When she’d arrived, Robin had been killing time at the piano, playing a few bars over and over. A sixties jazz waltz, a maddeningly familiar lounge lizard’s song. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but a couple of lines echoed in her mind.
Day after day, there are girls in the office / And men will always be men.

He gave a fractional bow, as if encouraging her to break into applause. When she offered her hand, his long fingers
clasped it for a moment longer than necessary. She must call him Robin, he said, adding that they’d both lost someone so very special. He fancied himself, for sure, but he was also needy; she recognised the type, having lived with one for years. You indulged men like that at your peril.

The ground floor was spacious but draughty; a pair of sliding glass doors weren’t properly closed, so the cold from outside seeped in. She kept on her lined jacket, and watched him sashay over to the counter for coffee and millionaire shortbread, a slinky mover in skintight Levi’s and thin blue T-shirt. She could just picture Terri ogling the bloke’s backside. Her second husband had been a part-time underpants model, and Robin was in very good shape. Yet waiting to be served, he seemed twitchy and ill at ease. Unless it was just the lack of a warm top that made him shiver.

‘This place is pretty special to me,’ he said. ‘Believe it or not, I sat at the back of this very room as a boy, and listened to my dad playing the trumpet in his band. Of course, it was all so different then. Spit and sawdust, no polished floorboards or fancy lighting, but he and I both loved the place. I may not have inherited the family sports gene, but music’s always been special to me.’ He paused, as if expecting a response, but Hannah wasn’t in the mood for nostalgia. ‘A brilliant trumpeter, Dad, wonderful ear for a tune. Mum swears he would have made it big, if he’d kept his feet on the ground. But no, he was seduced by the idea of owning a bar. Big mistake – he was a much better musician than he was a businessman.’

He swivelled in his chair to gaze into her eyes, and then, as if disappointed with what he saw, looked away through
the glass doors. She followed his gaze. Outside, a paved terrace overlooked the river and wooded lower reaches of Dunmallard Hill. Years ago, she and Marc had walked up there, and picnicked by the remains of the Iron Age hill fort at the summit. The Jazz Lounge’s patio must be idyllic when the sun shone, but all the parasols had been dismantled for winter, and the tables and chairs were cocooned in waterproof sheets. Not even the hardiest local would fancy al fresco snacking on a day so misty, cold and damp.

‘You mustn’t be cross with Terri for not telling you about us.’

‘I’m not cross.’ Was that true? Didn’t she feel somehow let down, as well as puzzled? ‘Just surprised.’

‘She was about to break the news to you. The day after the party.’

‘I’m not sure what difference the party made?’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, doesn’t matter.’

‘She was worried …’ He fiddled with his napkin, folding it again and again before squashing it in his palm. ‘I think she was worried how you would react. To her starting a serious relationship again, so soon after breaking up with Stefan.’

‘All I wanted was for her to be happy and safe.’ Shit, why did she sound so defensive, like an overprotective parent mithering about an unreliable offspring? And was he right about Terri? ‘Her love life was her own business.’

‘Terri was the first to admit she’d made a lot of wrong choices. Especially when it came to men. She assumed you’d think I was just one more good-for-nothing.’

‘She used to say I was bossy. Meddling with her life, wanting her to play everything by the book. Getting in the
way of her indulging her instinct for having a good time.’ Hannah hadn’t meant to say what was in her mind, but the words just spilt out. She’d been wrestling with this ever since learning of Robin Park’s existence. ‘That’s why she kept schtum, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t punish yourself, it’s not your fault.’ Reassurance so swift and so slick that she was sure he’d used that line before. True or not, it was the sort of thing people liked to hear. ‘She looked up to you, put you on a pedestal. It was always Hannah this, Hannah that. To be honest, I was in awe of meeting you. The paragon.’

She waved away the bullshit. ‘I simply didn’t want her to be hurt again. So many of her Prince Charmings turned into frogs.’

Robin’s grin made him look like a cheesy TV presenter. Very white teeth, tanned skin. Easy not to notice his anxiety. But those pianist’s fingers kept tapping the table top.

‘The worst kind of frogs, from what she told me. Idle, penniless wastes-of-space. And then the last one turned violent. When she told me her life story, I finally realised how she could tolerate being with a two-bit jazz pianist.’

Easy to understand what Terri had seen in him, Hannah had to admit. It wasn’t just the dazzling blue eyes and the trim bum. Terri would have found his self-deprecating manner and hint of vulnerability equally hard to resist. Just as she’d fancied Marc, another handsome man whose affability concealed a streak of weakness.

‘How did you meet?’

‘At a jazz concert the Knights organised. In Ambleside, at a place that had just opened up.’

‘Not Balotelli’s? She took me there for a drink, last time
we went out together.’ God, it seemed like half a lifetime ago. ‘The night before Hallowe’en.’

‘Yeah, she told me. Our original plan was to spend that night together, even though she hadn’t moved in with me on a permanent basis. You know Terri, she cherished her independence. With all the hassle from Stefan, I hated the thought of her being on her own. God knows, how right I was.’

Hannah waited.

‘Unfortunately, it was the anniversary of my dad’s death. Mum’s always a bit low when that day comes around, and she wanted me to spend the evening with her at Beck Cottage. I couldn’t let her down. When Terri phoned me, and I explained, she decided to stay with you instead.’

‘That’s one mystery solved. She didn’t tell me who she’d called.’

‘Oh, she loved being mysterious, didn’t she? Said she was matchmaking, but you wouldn’t play ball. In her opinion, you and Daniel Kind were perfect for each other. Small world, eh? Who would have thought I’d meet him for myself at the Knights’ party?’

Hannah swallowed some more coffee. She had no intention of discussing Daniel, especially not with a man she’d only just met. This mustn’t become a cosy chat between two people sharing their grief. Robin had been present in Ravenbank the night Terri was killed. His sickness had given someone the chance to commit the crime. And there was an alternative that she couldn’t yet rule out. Sickness could be feigned. It was too early to presume he had nothing to do with her death.

In her head, she heard Terri speaking. ‘Hey, kid, relax.
Can’t you forget, for once in your life, that you’re a police officer?’

Oh sweetheart, easier said than done.

‘Tell me what Terri did on Hallowe’en.’

‘She and Oz called in at the Theatre by the Lake to discuss Quin and Jeffrey’s premiere. Later, she spent an hour setting up a Hallowe’en party in Keswick. By half two, she was back at my cottage – by which time I’d well and truly succumbed to the bug.’

‘Did any of your neighbours know you’d been taken ill?’

‘Probably all of them. Terri popped round to the Hall to pass on my apologies to the Knights, and she called at Watendlath to give an update on the discussion about the show. Between you and me, Oz didn’t keep her fully occupied. There wasn’t much business coming in, and they were helping with the show mainly as a favour to Jeffrey and Quin. She’d heard Oz the day before, ranting at his accountant, something about an overdue tax payment.’

‘Was the company in trouble?’

‘Sounded like it. But I’ve never taken much interest in business or money.’ And he hadn’t needed to, Hannah thought, once his mother used the legacy from Palladino to buy him a home. ‘Anyway, I was out for the count, but I didn’t want that to spoil Hallowe’en for Terri.’

‘Or your mother?’

‘Exactly. Mum was looking forward to the party. Until Francis Palladino died, she worked at the Hall, and she still helps Melody out every now and then. It’s not about money, she just loves the Hall, and she’s never minded getting her hands dirty. Any excuse to relive the old days. I insisted the two of them go without me.’

Ah, the selfless invalid. The more they talked, the more he reminded her of Marc. ‘While you stayed at home in bed?’

‘Well, I was staggering back and forth to the loo every two minutes. Or that’s how it felt. Ghastly, trust me. You really don’t want to hear the details.’ The cheesy grin reappeared. ‘All I could do was obey Mum’s words of wisdom. Drink gallons of water and get as much rest as possible.’

‘Ravenbank is a dangerous place at Hallowe’en. Weren’t you worried about Terri? Bearing in mind the murder of Shenagh Moss, and the legend of the Faceless Woman.’

He made a performance of choking on a mouthful of shortbread. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that Terri’s death is connected with that Frozen Shroud rubbish?’

‘I’m not suggesting anything. In a murder case, it’s essential to explore every avenue.’

‘Including a barmy story about the ghost of a woman without a face?’

‘Almost the last time anyone saw Terri was during the ghost hunt.’

‘They just did that for a laugh, everyone was pissed, by the sound of things. Nobody in their right mind would take the story seriously.’

‘Is your mother equally sceptical?’

He sighed. ‘Mum belongs to a different generation. You have to realise, she’s spent most of her life in this small corner of Cumbria. She can barely use a computer, and probably thinks One Direction is a road sign. They may be a dying breed, but there are still people like that, you know. As for the legend, Esme Palladino swore she’d once seen
Gertrude Smith’s ghost walking down Ravenbank Lane, and that was good enough for Mum.’

‘But not you?’

‘Esme was an old soak. She’d probably been on a bender the night she claims she saw the Faceless Woman.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Don’t get me wrong, the legend is fun. But – it’s a ghost story. Not real. It has nothing to do with what happened to Terri.’

She wiped shortbread crumbs from her mouth. ‘How can you be sure about that, Robin?’

 

Daniel squeezed his car keys in his palm. Quin’s affair with Shenagh had tormented Jeffrey Burgoyne. Five years after her death, he wasn’t over it. At The Solitary Reaper on Saturday, a mere expression of sympathy – ‘poor Shenagh’ – had been enough to get under Jeffrey’s skin. Daniel remembered their exchange of looks, charged with meaning, yet inexplicable to anyone who didn’t know. As soon as they were alone, recriminations must have begun, and the upshot was that Jeffrey slapped his partner on the face.

‘Whenever Shenagh is mentioned, it’s obvious Jeffrey despised her, but Quin was a fan. I wondered if that made Jeffrey jealous.’

‘Jealous as hell.’ Oz Knight’s gaunt expression twisted, as if he had toothache, and Daniel saw that he too had been devoured by jealousy. ‘He didn’t understand that Shenagh was playing a game. Seducing a gay man was a challenge, like I said. To her, it meant nothing more.’

He wasn’t trying to hide his bitterness, any more than he’d bothered dying his hair or combing over that bald patch. It was as if he’d abandoned the persona he’d adopted
for so long, leaving in its place just one more miserable middle-age man. Like Clifford Hodgkinson and Francis Palladino before him, the murder of a woman had ripped up his life. In the space of a few days, he’d segued from lord of the manor to sad old loser.

‘Are you sure?’

‘She as good as admitted it. When I told her it was wrong to treat people as playthings, she told me to fuck off. Said she’d spent half her life being treated as a plaything. Now it was her turn.’

‘You don’t think she’d have left Francis Palladino for Quin?’

‘No way!’ Oz scoffed. ‘She’d tied everything up so cleverly with Francis. Shenagh was sorted, believe me.’

Was that true, or what he wanted to believe? ‘Did the relationship with Quin fizzle out?’

Oz frowned as leaves gusted across the lawn. ‘She’d stopped confiding in me by then.’

‘Was she still seeing Quin at the time of her murder?’

‘This is a game to you, isn’t it?’ Oz didn’t sound angry, just defeated and disillusioned. ‘Next stop, Keswick Museum, to see what stones you can lift up. For some of us, it’s not an intellectual puzzle. It feels like a blade, ripping through my guts.’

He turned on his heel, and strode out across the lawn, boots squelching in the wet grass. His gait was uncertain, and Daniel didn’t think it was just down to the Rioja.

Five years after her death, Shenagh’s ghost still haunted Ravenbank. She’d played for high stakes, but in the end she’d lost. Perhaps she’d pushed one of her playmates too far.

 

‘Terri’s murder is horrific,’ Robin said. ‘It’s destroyed everything we dreamt of together. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. But her death has nothing to do with what happened five years ago. Surely there’s an overwhelming case against Deyna?’

He ventured a tentative smile. Hannah wasn’t giving him any encouragement. She sampled the millionaire shortbread: pretty good.

‘I mean, the man can’t deny he was at Ravenbank that night. Or that he made a run for it. What more proof of guilt do your colleagues want? Why would anyone act like that, if he had nothing to hide? It’s bizarre that they’ve let him go. A scandal. I don’t suppose you’re able to explain what the hell your people are up to?’

‘You suppose right. Besides, it’s not my case.’

BOOK: The Frozen Shroud
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