Hannah pulled herself free of the armchair’s seductive caress and sat upright. A bowl of nuts sat on the table and she helped herself to a handful. The interview wasn’t going well; she’d lost the initiative. Instead of making allies of these people, she was fast antagonising them. Time for an olive branch.
‘We worry about people with alibis almost as much as those without. According to your statement, Ms Jenner, you spent most of the day at home next door, sorting through your late husband’s business affairs?’
‘After he died, the last thing I wanted to do was to bother with paperwork, but the solicitors handling the probate were asking for various bits of information. I set aside that day to get to grips with it.’
‘Did you go out?’
‘No. The restaurant was closed that day until six-thirty. During Tom’s illness, and after Jason left, we cut back the opening hours. Bad for business, but money was the least of my worries. I walked over here at half five. Oliver was already hard at work.’
‘You’d moved in by that time, Mr Cox?’
Oliver nodded. ‘There’s a flat upstairs. At present we have a couple of girls over from Croatia for the summer who share it. Jason lived there, but when he left Bel offered it to me in lieu of a pay rise for my extra responsibilities. I’d been holed up in a crummy bedsit in a Coniston back street, not far from Coppermines Valley. The first thing I saw when I woke up each day was a damp stain the shape of Africa on the wall. Of course, I jumped at the chance to move. On the day of the murder, I popped next door about nine-thirty. To see how Bel was bearing up, I wanted to keep my eye on her after everything she’d been through. I said I’d go into Hawkshead to pick up some food. The rest of the time I spent pottering around this building. No witnesses, I’m afraid.’
‘Is there anything you might have overlooked at the time or forgotten to mention to my colleagues?’ Bel and Oliver shook their heads in unison. ‘When did you first hear about the murder?’
‘Roz rang while she was waiting for the police to arrive,’ Bel said. ‘She’s a strong lady, but she was in a dreadful state. First her husband had disappeared, now she’d found a man cut to the pieces in her own back garden.’
‘You knew Warren Howe was working for her?’
‘She and Chris decided to have the work done and she didn’t want to change the plans. Superstition, I suppose. If she acted as if Chris were dead, she’d somehow make her nightmare come true.’
Hannah tried another tack. ‘I gather that Gail Flint supplies you with wine?’
‘We like to support local business ventures. And of course I’ve known Gail a long time.’
‘She had an affair with Warren not long before he died.’
Bel allowed herself a mischievous smile. ‘Well, nobody’s perfect.’
‘So it wasn’t just a rumour?’
‘I heard the relationship was over before the murder. And Gail would never have killed him. She can be tough, but she’s squeamish. I can’t imagine her doing — what the murderer did to Warren.’
‘Their affair was over, perhaps she was unhappy?’
‘It happens, don’t I know it? She’d have got over it in time. As I did, as Roz did.’
‘You employ Warren Howe’s daughter, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ Bel glanced at her watch. ‘She will be here soon. I don’t know whether you want to talk to her?’
‘Does she know I’m seeing the two of you this morning?’
Bel shook her head. ‘Don’t forget, the girl’s father was murdered. We tread on eggshells every time the subject comes up when she’s around.’
‘She’s a good worker?’
‘Excellent, when she puts her mind to the job.’
Oliver coloured. ‘The fact is, Chief Inspector, she has a bit of a crush on me. Of course, she’s wasting her time. I don’t encourage her. Bel knows all about it.’
Bel snuggled even closer on the sofa. ‘Persistence runs in that family, you see. But there’s no harm in her, she’ll be fine as soon as she finds someone her own age to moon over.’
Wasn’t Kirsty closer in age to Oliver than Bel? In a casual tone Hannah asked, ‘Who did you think killed Warren?’
‘Isn’t it your job to find out, Chief Inspector?’
Not helpful. ‘You knew the man well. Intimately. Surely you speculated?’
‘Of course we did,’ Bel said. ‘Poor old Warren wasn’t short of enemies. Plenty of people had a motive. The one thing we didn’t know at the time…’
‘Yes?’
She hesitated. ‘I…I’m not sure it’s fair to say.’
‘Come on, Ms Jenner. The man was brutally murdered. And he did mean something to you once.’
She winced. ‘Well, we didn’t know that Tina and Peter Flint would get involved together — one day.’
‘Are you suggesting that they were having an affair at the time of the murder?’
‘I’m not suggesting anything, Chief Inspector. After all, Tina had an alibi, didn’t she? She couldn’t have killed Warren, even if she wanted to.’
Chapter Twelve
Miranda squeezed Daniel’s hand as they stood on the shingle at the head of Mardale, looking towards the remains of the drowned village. Holding him tight, as if not wanting him to stray to his sister’s side. Louise stood a few feet away, gazing over the bleached and barren stretches left exposed by the receding water. The mountainous ridge known as High Street lined the horizon. In front of them, the preserved remnant of a grey tree stump rose from the stony ground. Other lakes had lush green shores, but Haweswater was different. The drought was revealing a landscape from a lost world.
An elderly couple waved a greeting and stopped to take in the view. The woman’s weather-beaten face was a patchwork of wrinkles, her husband reeked of tobacco. They were both wearing white floppy hats and khaki shorts that stretched to their brown, bony knees.
‘My grandma came from Mardale Green, y’ know,’ the old man said out of the blue. ‘The buggers flooded the valley seventy years back so folk in Manchester could tap into the reservoir.’
‘It’s weird,’ Miranda breathed.
‘Gran told me about the vicar standing in the graveyard, before he was supposed to take the last service. Weeping for his doomed church. When they pulled it down, they used the stones for that draw-off tower, see? The yew trees were eight hundred years old, but did that stop Manchester Corporation taking an axe to ’em?’
‘What happened to the bodies?’ Louise asked.
The man’s wife said, ‘Don’t get him started, love.’
‘Dug ’em up and took ’em to Shap.’ The old man took off his hat and wiped his forehead with a yellow-stained hand. ‘They were supposed to be reburied, but I bet their ghosts still wander round here at night.’
For all the heat of the morning, Miranda gave a little shiver. She pulled Daniel closer. ‘Let’s get back to the car.’
‘Fascinating, don’t you think, Daniel?’ Louise was motionless, as though mesmerised by the resurrected walls and pathways. ‘The homes of a whole community, deluged and lost forever.’
‘They got reservists to dynamite the cottages.’ The old man gave a dry smoker’s cough. ‘Good practice for the war, my grandma used to say.’
As he and his wife pottered away, Miranda jerked Daniel’s hand. ‘Are you coming?’
‘How about we go up the old corpse road?’
‘Good idea,’ Louise said.
‘What’s the point?’ Miranda made an impatient noise. ‘We’ve got a coffin trail of our own in Brackdale.’
Daniel said, ‘OK. Where would you like to go this afternoon? Another walk, or maybe take a look at Beatrix Potter’s old house? Hill Top is only a stone’s throw from the restaurant I’ve booked for this evening.’
‘I don’t mind a bit more exercise,’ Louise said.
‘Haven’t we walked enough in this weather?’ Miranda sighed. ‘Come on, Hill Top it is.’
Kirsty huddled up in the armchair, as if trying to disappear. Her T-shirt depicted a parachutist coming down to
