‘None. A spectacular way to choose to die, but it’s happened before.’
‘A new trend, killing yourself in front of an audience?’
‘Gone are the days of discreetly sticking your head in a gas oven. Now even people who want to end it all fancy their fifteen minutes of fame.’
She was draped over the sofa, phone wedged between head and shoulder, determined to think about anything except the sight of Kirsty’s remains spread across the dropzone. When Nick called, she’d been watching daytime TV. A fast-talking presenter was urging a surly sixteen-year-old to identify which of three tattooed boyfriends was the father of her baby girl. Even with the sound muted, the kids’ faces told the story more eloquently than any words they might mumble.
‘What do the other skydivers say?’
‘They never picked up a hint that she had anything untoward in mind. But they didn’t know her well; she was someone who lurked on the edge of things. Skydivers party hard, presumably because they never know if the next jump might be their last. She’d had a couple of one-night stands with fellow skydivers, but nothing recent. Several chaps had tried it on with her, and got nowhere. They reckoned she’d found a lover who wasn’t part of their community.’
‘Perhaps she was just sick of men.’
‘By the sound of it, none of the skydivers could imagine how a woman could ever get sick of men.’
‘Charming.’
‘She was very quiet before the jump, even by her standards. In the plane, someone asked if she was feeling under the weather, but she said she’d never felt better. She looked haggard, but the guys put it down to a night on the tiles. In fact, she was working at The Heights the previous evening.’
‘Anything out of the ordinary there?’
‘If so, Bel Jenner and Oliver Cox aren’t telling. Her death has stunned them. Bel was in tears and Oliver looked as though he’d been run over by a truck. Mind you, good waitresses aren’t that easy to find.’
‘You’re so cynical. How about her family?’
‘Tina Howe says Kirsty had mood swings and she’d seemed down in the dumps, but there’s no history of her threatening to do away with herself. No overdoses, no self-harming. She wasn’t the sort to cry for attention. This suicide came literally out of the blue.’
‘Spur of the moment decision?’
‘Looks like it. She wasn’t a heavy drinker and there’s no evidence she ever so much as smoked a joint. Plenty of work to be done yet, but they haven’t found anything that links in with our investigation.’
‘Doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find.’
‘It is a coincidence that she dies shortly after we receive the anonymous tip-off pointing the finger at Tina.’
‘Suppose she discovered something that proved her mother killed her dad?’
‘Such as?’
‘If she and Sam lied to give Tina an alibi, they must have had suspicions from the outset. Perhaps Kirsty wrote the anonymous letter herself.’
‘And the letter that Tina received?’
‘Attempting to put her under pressure, force her to cough? Or maybe Tina made up the letter. Peter never saw it, remember.’
‘What if Sam was the culprit and Tina and Kirsty lied to save his neck? He might have sent the letters to divert attention from himself.’
‘Why resurrect the case if for years he’d got away with murder?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
Hannah scowled at the television screen. The girl was snivelling and her mascara had started to run. Motherhood wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, perhaps. Even so, Hannah wanted to find out for herself one day. The putative fathers were smirking with a mixture of cockiness and embarrassment as they waited for the presenter to reveal the answer.
‘We need a fresh angle. Instead of focusing on who killed Warren, let’s ask who might have given us the tip- off and work forward from there.’
‘Isn’t that a blind alley, without any forensic evidence from the letter?’
If Nick hadn’t been such a good friend, she wouldn’t have restrained the impulse to snap back at him. Ben Kind often complained that technological advance discourages even the best cops from reasoning for themselves.
‘Think laterally. Who might want to stick the knife into Tina?’
Nick pondered. ‘Leaving aside her kids?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Gail Flint,’ he said. ‘Revenge for taking her husband?’
One of the lads on TV grinned stupidly at the news that he was a father. The girl was still crying as the presenter led the audience in a round of enthusiastic applause. Hannah felt like joining in. She’d come to the same conclusion as Nick.
‘Let’s talk to her tomorrow.’
‘Thanks for everything,’ Louise said.
‘Sorry about Saturday,’ Daniel said.
She hesitated. ‘I suppose it brought back memories?’
She was, he knew, talking about Aimee’s suicide.
‘Maybe.’
‘You’re still hurting, aren’t you?’
‘I’m not looking for sympathy.’
‘You never do. But everyone needs a bit of comfort sometimes.’
‘Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I should never have dragged you out to the airfield.’
‘You weren’t to know she was going to kill herself.’
Confession time. He cleared his throat. ‘No, but I knew about her father’s murder from Hannah Scarlett. It’s a cold case she’s investigating. That’s why I asked Peter Flint for advice about the garden. I knew he was Warren Howe’s business partner.’
Louise groaned. ‘As a kid, you wanted to be a detective. Just like Dad.’
‘Maybe I haven’t grown up as much as I’d like to think.’
‘Which of us has?’
They were killing time with a coffee and cake in the platform buffet at Oxenholme. The latest announcement warned that the train from Glasgow was running forty minutes late. Miranda wasn’t with them. She’d elected to chase the builders on the phone rather than come along to see off their guest. At the door of the cottage, she and Louise exchanged pecks on the cheek and promised to keep in touch, but these were the meaningless formalities of English good manners. Daniel knew it wouldn’t break their hearts if they never clapped eyes on each other again.
‘No need to wait for the train.’
‘I enjoy your company.’
She blinked. ‘You’ve never said that to me before.’
‘It’s never occurred to me before,’ he said with a grin.
She stuck out her tongue at him. ‘It’s best that I disappear. Miranda’s not comfortable when I’m around.’
‘It’s nothing personal. She’s just…’
‘Insecure?’
‘Unaccustomed to family life. Her adoptive parents were elderly, no kids of their own; she became accustomed to being the centre of attention. Since they died, she feels the lack of a past. That’s why she seems jealous of you and me. There’s so much stuff that she isn’t part of. But — you do like her?’
Louise laughed. ‘Now who’s insecure? Of course I do. You’re not stupid enough to fall for just a pretty face. Though I must admit I wondered if it was too soon for you — after Aimee, I mean. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure you’ve ever faced up to how hard her death hit you.’
