'That's right. Seemed a long shot, but what the hell, I had nowhere else in particular I wanted to be. Only, when I got to Dendale I discovered there was no Neb Cottage anymore. I had a wander round but it was so long since I'd been there, I couldn't even be sure I was looking at the right heap of stones! But by now I was getting to feel stubborn. If that money was still around and Benny wasn't, then I had as good a claim as anyone, right? So I headed into town and tried the library. Lady there was truly helpful. I was able to read all about what happened back there in the old papers. Also she showed me this book which had before-and-after maps in it, which I got photocopied.'
'Hold on,' said Wield, ever the stickler for detail. 'Let's get the timing sorted. You arrived in Dendale when?'
'Saturday morning. Got myself a pitch at this farm, then walked up the dale and started looking. When I realized I was getting nowhere, that's when I drove into town. Was in the library till closing, which was also close to opening, so I had a few beers and a spot of grub, then back to the dale. Sunday I was up with the lark. This time I boxed clever and first off I climbed up to the ridge of the Neb and wandered along there awhile, getting a bird's- eye view. Best way to get your bearings, made more sense of the maps than working out mileage and such on the ground. Once I was sure I'd located the right heap of rubble I went down there and started digging.'
'Let's hold it there,' said Dalziel. 'You're up on the ridge. Just looked down one side, did you? Into Dendale? Never looked down the Danby side?'
'What? Hey, you're not still trying to tie me in to that missing kiddie, are you? Come on! It's clear from what the papers said that you're running around like headless chickens, pointing the finger at poor Benny, who no one's seen for fifteen years. You try to keep it in the family and you'll look a real load of assholes!'
Pascoe at this point would probably have said something about headless chickens not having fingers, thought Novello.
Dalziel just looked longingly at the tape machine as if trying to switch it off by force of will so he could have a real heart-to-heart.
Then he said gently, 'Not missing kiddie. Dead kiddie, Mr. Slater. Just tell us. Please.'
'Yeah. Sure. Sorry. You've got a job to do. I hope to hell you get the bastard,' said Slater. 'No, I don't believe I did look down the Danby side. I was concentrating on locating what I hoped might be the site of fifty thousand quid, remember. Soon as I was sure I'd located the cottage ruins, I headed on down there.'
'You mean you returned to the col and went back down the Corpse Road?' said Wield.
'Nah. Headed straight down. Crazy really, it's bloody steep. I went arse over tip and nearly did my ankle. In the end I dropped into this ghyll, White Mare's Tail they call it. The going was a bit easier there, though I'd not have liked to try it if the fell hadn't been all dried up with the heat.'
'And did you see anyone else?'
'In the valley? Not a soul for a long time. Oh, yeah, there was someone on the ridge, I think. I glanced back and think I saw some guy on the col where the Corpse Road crosses. But he was a long way off and the ridge took a dip just then and I didn't see him again.'
'But there were people in the valley later?' said Wield.
'Yeah, sure. Hikers, families having picnics, all kinds of folk wandering around the bits of the old village that the drought's brought back up. I didn't want an audience to what I was doing, natch, but by then anyway I was pig sick of the business. I'd done all I could with my hands and found nothing. There were blocks of stone there I'd need a crow or pickax to shift. So I gave myself the rest of the day off, went off to get a wet and see if I could find any action.'
'Any luck?' asked Dalziel.
'Not sure. All I know is I woke in my tent next morning with my Jockey shorts back to front and a mouth like a pigman's bucket. All I could think was When I finally stop shaking, I'm out of here. But by midday, when I'd got a few pints of tea inside me and could think of taking solids without spewing my ring, I got a little more upbeat. So I drove off to get some tucker, and afterward, I found one of these big DIY superstores and bought myself a pick and a crow. I waited till late evening, when I had the valley to myself, before I started work. It was almost pitch black by the time I gave up. By then I knew for certain that wherever the money was, it wasn't there.'
'But you still didn't accept the obvious conclusion that Benny had got it?' said Wield.
'Did at first,' said the man. 'Then I got to thinking, you jokers were after him, right? So one place you'd be watching day and night till it was 'dozed would be Neb Cottage, 'cos that's where he'd most likely make for. So if he'd shown, you'd have spotted him. And as you didn't, maybe he had never come back for the money.'
'Maybe he did come back,' said Novello. 'Maybe that's what he was doing by the ruins when he attacked Betsy Allgood. Looking for the box.'
'Could be,' said Dalziel. 'Had a bad night, didn't he? So you started wondering who else might have got the money?'
'Right,' said Slater. 'First off, I thought it might be one of you lot. Well, you were on the spot, right? And fifty thou in used notes is a helluva temptation even for virtuous gents like yourselves.'
He smiled at Novello as if to exclude her from the slur. She didn't smile back.
'But once you'd put such a daft notion out of your head,' said Dalziel genially, 'you still didn't give up. Once a Yorkie, always a Yorkie, eh? So it was back to yon bonnie lass in the library, eh?'
'Right,' grinned Slater. 'I just didn't want to leave before I'd made damn sure I'd not missed anything. And this time I found myself staring at the pic of the 'dozer demolishing the cottage.'
They were all as far ahead of him now as Novello had been from the start, but it was necessary for him to spell it out for the tape.
He'd made out the name painted on the bulldozer, checked it in the local business directories, and discovered that for the last several years Tommy Tiplake had been trading as Geordie Turnbull out of the same address. And he recalled reading in the local paper the day before that this same Turnbull had been helping the police with their inquiries just as he'd done fifteen years ago in Dendale.
'Coincidence? Maybe,' he said. 'I almost dropped it in your laps then, got as far as the cop shop, but thought, what the hell, with all this stuff in the paper about Benny Lightfoot fifteen years back, once you jokers get your hands on Benny's brother, you're going to be more interested in fucking him around-pardon my French, miss- than following up some half-baked gumshoe work I'd been doing. So I went off to Bixford and had a drink in the pub and got chatting to some of the locals. All the talk was about Turnbull, and I soon heard enough to make me wonder how come a 'dozer driver like him had suddenly got enough put by to buy into his boss's firm way back. It made me think it was worth having a quick talk with Geordie.'
'Talk?' said Dalziel. 'If that's what you do to any poor sod you have a quiet talk with, I shouldn't like to see anyone you fancied having a quiet kiss with!'
'There was a misunderstanding,' said Slater. 'But we soon got on the same wavelength. I'll give him his due. Once he saw the wind was blowing, he didn't mess around but put his hand up straightaway. Said it had been bothering him for years, but he just hadn't been able to resist the temptation when he pushed over the old cottage and saw this tin box lying in the rubble with tenners spilling out of it. Can't say I blamed him. Would probably have done the same myself.'
'I get the impression, Mr. Slater, that you have done much the same yourself,' said Wield.
'The money, you mean? Listen, mate, I got that money fair and square. You ask Turnbull. Like I said, once he understood who I was, he cooperated of his own free will. Wanted to get it off his conscience. Also he's done all right, our Geordie. Fifteen years ago, fifty thou was big money still. Now it's a down payment on one of those earthmovers of his. I told him, get me the dosh in readies today and I'll forget the fifteen years' interest I'd be entitled to. He agreed. If he says different, he's a liar. Why the hell he wanted to get you people involved, I don't know. He's the only one committed a crime here, not me.'
'Blackmail's a crime,' said Dalziel softly. 'Extortion's a crime. And don't give me any of that kangaroo crap about this being your money. It was your gran got robbed, not you. It's her sodding money if it's anyone's.'
'Yeah, and that's where I was heading, straight back down to Wark House to give it to her,' said Slater.
He gazed openly at them with what was either wide-eyed sincerity or you-prove-different complacency.
Novello said quietly, 'That's good to hear, Mr. Slater. The Social Service Department that's been picking up your grandmother's tab at Wark House for the past several years, will be pleased to hear it too. You see, they've been dishing out taxpayers' money on the understanding she was penniless, and now they'll be able to get most of it back.'
