he had spent on Danny McTeague and the crash of Sugar Uncle Victor, it had been Marie Tennent he had woken thinking about each morning.
o o
She had been there at the back of his mind - a sad, cold bundle lying on the hillside, waiting for somebody to explain what had happened to her.
‘We’ve been neglecting her, Diane,’ said Cooper. ‘We
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have to find out where she had been, who she’d been sec—
ing.’
‘We’ll interview Eddie Kcmp again tomorrow,’ said Fry. ‘But if he moved back in with his wife six months ago, the chances are there’s been another boyfriend since then.’
‘One who might not have been happy about the baby.’
‘Exactly/
‘There’s his brother, too,’ said Cooper. ‘Graham, isn’t it? The guy at the aircraft museum mentioned him.’
‘Yes, you’re right. Graham Kcmp was one of the people interviewed over the double assault. We have no evidence against him, though the CCTV Aim could help get an ID. The meeting with the MDP has been scheduled for tomorrow.’
o
‘Hopefully Sergeant Caudwcll might explain why she was interested in Marie Tennent and Sugar Uncle Victor.’
o
He heard Fry make a noise between a dismissive grunt and a resigned sigh. ‘We’re promised they’re going to share intelligence,’ she said. ‘It’s madness to keep details of this enquiry from us. They’re making us work in the dark.’
‘It would help to have a little more information of your own before that, wouldn’t it?’ said Cooper.
Fry was silent for a moment. ‘What do you mean, Ben?’
‘If you could have some evidence against the vultures.’
‘(‘u/turg^?’
‘It’s what Zygmunt Lukasz calls them — the people who take things from the aircraft wrecks. Where are you, Diane?’
‘Still at West Street.’
‘More overtime? I think we could get some evidence. I think between us we could do it.’
‘What? Ben, arc you asking for my help?’
‘A different approach might work. I thought we could tackle George Malkin again.’
‘On what pretext?’
‘There’s the money.’
‘What money?’
‘The wages for three RAF bases were being carried on
o o
Lancaster SU-V the nig^ht it crashed. The money went missing and was never found. I suspect that Malkin once had at least a
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share in the money from the crashed Lancaster. Maybe his father was involved with the two Home Guards who were suspected of taking it. They could have got the money away and hidden it at Hollow Shaw Farm, to share it out later. I don’t know. But Malkin has no moncv now. And he seems to have sold all the souvenirs he ever had, except for an old watch. 1 wonder who he sold them to, Diane. And I wonder what happened to the money.’
‘I hope you’re not on some flight of fancy again,’ said Fry. ‘Pick me up at the front door.’
It was completely dark when they reached Harrop. As they entered George Malkin’s house, Ben Cooper was aware of Fry taking off her coat, then changing her mind and putting it hack on again as she shivered with cold. She pulled her collar closer and tightened her scarf.
‘Well, 1 am popular these days,’ said Malkin. ‘It’s a proper social whirl I live in.’
‘We’re sorry to bother you again, sir.’
‘Aye, I’m sure.’
The sitting room looked no different from when Cooper had been there a few days before. Malkin didn’t bother to draw the curtains at night. There was no point, since there were no other houses to be seen, and no one ever passed on the track outside, except Malkin’s friend, Rod Whittaker, who ran his contract haulage business from here and kept his sheep in the fields.
On one window ledge was a collection of empty jars. They were the type that would once have contained strawberry jam or marmalade, but they had been stripped of their labels and washed clean for some long-forgotten purpose. Now they were left to gather dust instead. The jar nearest to Cooper had several small, dead spiders desiccating on the glass bottom.
‘I O c?
Their tiny, fragile legs, no thicker than a hair, had folded into their bodies as they had curled up to accept death in their incomprehensible prison.
‘How long have you been living on your own?’ asked Cooper.
