To Dream of the Dead

‘And what, uh…’ Bliss hesitated. ‘What does County Councillor Howe say it does?’

‘You should ask him.’

‘I tried. Tried to ask him about a few things.’

‘And?’

‘He said I was a sick, twisted little Scouser with no friends and no prospects who ought to go home and probably throw himself in the Mersey. But you knew that.’

‘Didn’t, actually. When was this?’

‘Last night.’

‘Before you went off sick.’

‘I got very wet. Charlie having expressed a wish that I should die of pneumonia.’

Annie smiled, a bit twisted.

‘That’s my pa.’

‘I was able though, before I left, to inquire about his new hip, and he said Mr Shah had done an excellent job.’

‘I’ve heard he’s the best.’

Bliss stood up.

‘What are you doing, Annie? What are you doing?’

‘Sometimes, Francis, I almost think I know.’ Howe used a heel to start the chair’s momentum, in a slow, meditative rhythm. ‘Sit down. Tell me what you hoped to achieve by disrupting my quiet Christmas Eve in.’

‘Well…’ Bliss sat. ‘There’s that information that Mark Connelly wouldn’t give to Karen Dowell without your say-so. I think your guy also killed Ayling.’

‘It’s a possibility. The wounds weren’t identical.’

‘But you’ve got Willy Hawkes in the frame.’

‘Wilford Hawkes has gone home for Christmas. His chainsaw’s clean. We were interested that it had a new chain, and he’d forgotten what he’d done with the old one but we eventually found it. One of the women he lived with had borrowed it to loop over a five-barred gate to hold it to the post. That tells you how blunt it had become, but it wasn’t blunted on flesh or bone. Tests yielded sawdust, nothing else. He may be charged in connection with a threatening phone call, but possibly not.’

‘Why were you so keen to nail him?’

‘Because all the evidence pointed at the Dinedor Serpent.’

‘No other reason?’

‘Like not wanting to investigate my father?’

‘I’m saying nothing, ma’am.’

‘Don’t call me ma’am again. I know what it means when you use it, and it isn’t a term of respect. No, I didn’t want to investigate my father. All through my career I’ve been hoping I would never have to investigate Charlie Howe… and you breathe a word of this outside this room, Bliss, and you are history.’

‘You know I won’t,’ Bliss said, ‘or you wouldn’t be telling me. Anyway. I’ve got no friends, me.’

‘Really hasn’t lost his touch, has he?’

Annie Howe grinned. A phenomenon like the northern lights and UFOs: you’d heard of other people who’d seen them. Bliss blinked, and it had gone.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘I need to hear it from you. Why you handed me the Gyles case.’

‘You’ll have a long wait, Francis.’

‘Here’s my version, then. Sometime in the past, Charlie must’ve said something to you about Furneaux. Maybe asking you to look into him. Maybe suspicious of Furneaux’s affluence. And maybe you made a few inquiries to keep the old guy happy?’

Annie Howe looked up at the cream-washed moulded ceiling, didn’t nod, didn’t shake her head.

‘Was he happy? Was he happy to know Furneaux was without form, therefore clever? Therefore…’ in for a penny ‘… safe to have dealings with?’

‘Be careful.’

‘I bet you never forgot Steve’s name, did you?’

Maybe she was a better detective than he’d given her credit for. She couldn’t possibly have been in the cops for — what, twelve, fourteen years? — without hearing the Charlie stories.

‘What happened? You run into Furneaux at some social event?’

‘As everyone keeps pointing out,’ Annie said, ‘it’s a small city.’

‘Not for very long if the council have anything to do with it. Hear about the toxicology report following a heart attack at that Hereforward weekend spree?’

‘I read the toxicology report. And I was very relieved that Councillor Howe wasn’t there. He was…’ hollow breath ‘… on holiday in the South of France.’

‘Not…’ oh joy ‘… staying at Steve’s time-share in Menton?’

‘Shut up now…’

‘How lovely,’ Bliss said.

‘It’s not a crime.’

‘No, no. But when Ayling got topped, I bet you had Charlie on the phone in minutes, assuring you… well, making certain assurances.’

‘It would have been odd if he hadn’t phoned me under those circumstances.’

‘Did he, uh… suggest it might not be a good thing in general for the city of Hereford if a certain nasty little Scouse cop with a chip on his shoulder was in charge of the investigation?’

‘That sound like my father?’

‘Totally. And did he, by great good fortune, happen to be making a post-op visit to the orthopaedic surgeon who’d done his hip, and…’ Bliss sighed. ‘Jesus, Annie that was a sad bloody excuse for a complaint, wasn’t it?’

‘I’ve heard better.’

‘But I tell you what would look bad… if it subsequently emerged that there was a link between Steve Furneaux, Hereforward and Clem Ayling’s killing, and Councillor Howe’s daughter, leading the investigation, had conspicuously—’

‘All right!’ Howe stopped rocking. ‘Being fast-tracked to the top isn’t an automatic indication of someone with an honours degree but no basic nous. What’ve you got?’

‘Jesus, you deliberately put me in from the other side to find out if Charlie—?’

‘I told you you’d have a long wait and I meant it.’

‘You sent me in there with a shitload of grudge against your ole man…’

‘If you couldn’t involve him then he wasn’t involved.’

‘And if I could involve him?’

‘Can you?’

‘You still think he might actually—’

‘You tosser!’ Annie Howe sprang to her feet. ‘I’ve known the bastard for thirty-five years. I know every lie he told my mother, and some even she doesn’t know about. I know how, despite telling everybody who’ll listen how proud he is of my success, that he did everything in his power to keep me out of the police. Now what’ve you got?’

Bliss sat with his feet not quite touching the floor. He couldn’t remember when he’d last fancied a woman this much. How crass did that make him?

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I know who disposed of Ayling’s body. I don’t know who actually killed him, but I think I know why he was killed. And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think Charlie was connected to the murder.’

‘Furneaux?’

‘Furneaux for definite.’

‘All right,’ Annie said. ‘Let’s go and spoil his Christmas.’