‘Wiv your line going right frew the top corner, near his boundary, where he had his… excavation. That what this is about? They have a digger, him and his partner from Hardkit. Geezer who owns the land overlooking it reckoned there was archaeologists involved. Dunno what was found. Nothing was ever made public. Then Jones had conifers planted inside his boundary fence.’
‘Hardkit?’ Lol said. ‘You did say Hardkit?’
‘Kenny Mostyn. He owns the Hardkit shops.’
‘He’s Jones’s partner?’
‘You din’t know?’
‘No. No, I didn’t.’
Kenny Mostyn of Hardkit. Byron Jones’s partner, Ward Savitch’s partner, kind of.
‘Do you know of any ancient monument on Jones’s land? Anything they might want to excavate?’
‘No. And he’s… trust me, he’s not the kind of bloke you ask.’
Lol nodded, looking up at the sky, figuring there was a good half-hour of daylight left.
‘Well, I’d better go,’ he said. ‘You’ve been very helpful, Bax. I’ll send you a copy of the album when it’s out.’
43
Seeing the female silhouette through the frosted door-panel in the dusk, Bliss thought, Annie.
Almost wept. It had come to this. Memories of winter nights when she’d parked around the corner, walked briskly, all muffled up, down the icy drive to the back entrance. The sweet, old-fashioned romance of it.
What a twat he’d become. Bliss unlocked the door, thinking he hadn’t even made the bed.
‘I thought I’d better come round,’ Karen Dowell said. ‘Two reasons. One, I really didn’t like the sound of your voice on the machine.’
Bliss started to laugh and went into a coughing fit.
‘And obviously didn’t get that wrong,’ Karen said.
He’d called her on his mobile from the car, having tried Annie twice – switched off, and he hadn’t left a message. But he’d left one for Karen.
How long have you known?
Because this had so explained Karen’s attitude. Advising him to back off, pass the information about Sollers and the fruit-farm girls to Annie Howe.
You want to be a bit careful, boss, that’s all. Under the circumstances.
Bliss backed up the narrow hallway, switching on lights.
‘Sorry, I was…’
‘Not drinking, I hope.’ Karen stepped into the living room, pulling off her baseball cap, looking around. ‘God. You into minimalism now, Frannie, or is this all she left you?’
‘You want some coffee?’
‘Show me where the stuff is, I’ll make it. I had your coffee once before.’
‘Look.’ He felt stupid now. ‘I didn’t expect you to come over.’
‘I told Craig it was work.’
‘I feel like a twat.’
‘You are a twat. God, Frannie, I thought you knew. I just didn’t see how you could not know.’
‘Well, I didn’t. That’s the kind of shite detective I am.’
Karen stood there, shaking her head. Bulky, uncrushable. Farming stock.
‘And then I thought about it, and I was thinking, well, if by any chance he doesn’t know all the history…’
‘What are you saying, Karen?’
‘Oh my God, you don’t know any of the history, do you?’ Karen tossed her cap on the sofa, from which all the cushions had been stolen. ‘He hasn’t always been a rural pin-up, Frannie. There was a time when being seen around with Kirsty Symonds was serious kudos for a guy like Sollers.’
Bliss stared at her.
‘You’re saying that my wife and Sollers Bull were an item… before?’
‘Sorry to spring that on you.’
‘When?’
‘Quite a while back, actually. Couple of years before you showed your face in Hereford, anyway.’
Bliss collapsed onto the naked sofa. Karen wrinkled her nose.
‘Actually, thinking about it, she can’t’ve been all that long out of school at the time.’
‘Mother of God…’
‘Sorry. Must be a lot to take in.’
‘She used to tell me she always went out with farmers. She said I was the first feller who wasn’t a farmer and didn’t go on about sheep prices all the time. We used to laugh about it. How do you feel about discussing sheep prices? It became a euphemism for… you know… back in the days when we made up euphemisms for it. When we were both laughing at the same time.’
‘You never her asked which farmers she went out with?’
‘Karen, why would I care? They all look the friggin’ same to me. Industrial woollen shirts and hairy arms.’
‘Not Sollers, however.’
‘No.’ Bliss looked down into his hands. ‘Not Sollers.’
Karen sat down opposite him, in the chair by the cold grate. Looked across at him, a bit apprehensive, as though she still wasn’t sure how much to say.
‘When did it end, Karen? Or when was it suspended?’
‘Just fizzled out, I suppose. Sollers was at college, and mixing more in… you know, hunting circles… with the nobs. I suppose that was how he met Charlotte, Walford’s daughter. Walford was a hunt master, I think. And then one thing led to another. That is… did Charlotte get pregnant? I think maybe that was it. My mum reckons it was never destined to last. They pretty much lead separate lives now, since the kids went to boarding school. I wouldn’t imagine Lord Walford knows about him picking up again with Kirsty, but – like, from what you’ve told me – it’s pretty clear Chris Symonds does.’
Sollers’s big 4x4 shoved among the trees, just the other side of the farmhouse porch.
‘Symonds never liked me. Despised how I earned me crust. And now, coming up to forty, and still not behind a big desk at headquarters. Who else knows?’
Karen looked glum.
‘All right, tell me.’
‘Stagg.’
‘ Fuck… no! ’
‘Actually, it was Stagg who got the whisper, on his travels. From the inevitable nosy neighbour. Probably made his year. Couldn’t wait to go blabbing to the DCI. As you can imagine.’
‘When was this?’
‘This afternoon.’
Bliss closed his eyes. Total explanation of Annie’s phone message. Him thinking she’d somehow found out that Kirsty knew about them.
‘Has it got out to the press?’
‘I think, on balance, it wouldn’t be too much in Sollers’s interests for it to be in the papers that there was a private issue between you and him.’
‘Maybe not.’
What was evident was that Kirsty must’ve made it clear to Sollers that her husband didn’t know about them. That she’d never told him. And if he had found out, Kirsty had him and Annie in her back pocket for bargaining
