Under a Silent Moon: A Novel (13 page)

“I think we’d better get back to the office,” she said.

There was silence between them for the rest of the journey. To try and distract herself, she turned on the radio to catch the local news headlines, but she wasn’t listening to it. Their earlier conversation was going round and round in her head. His easy confidence had taken her by surprise, the relaxed way he’d asked her questions that were so personal. And now she was suddenly uncomfortable in a different way, not knowing what to do with herself, believing that he could see right through her and that it was all a game to him.

A game that she already knew she was going to lose.

15:17

This time Taryn saw her coming, escorted to the sales floor by the receptionist, who looked far too excited for this to be a regular visitor. With Reg away, there was no intermediary. They approached Taryn’s desk.

“Taryn, this lady is here to see you,” said Juliet, and scooted back off to reception.

Taryn stood up uncertainly. This one was younger, on her own, dressed in a smart linen suit with short, honey-blond hair and green eyes behind rectangular-framed glasses. “My name is Detective Sergeant Sam Hollands. I’m working on the Polly Leuchars murder investigation. I wondered if I might have a word with you? Somewhere private?”

As she showed Sam Hollands into Reg’s office, Taryn was partly worried that she was going to get told off for failing to tell Andy Hamilton who she was, and partly worried about what on earth Polly’s death had to do with her.

“Thanks,” Sam said as Taryn indicated Reg’s small conference table. “It’s not bad in here, is it? I can imagine worse offices to work in. I gather my colleagues came to tell you the news about your father and his wife. I am sorry you had to hear about it under such circumstances.”

Taryn gave a tiny shrug. “As I explained to your colleagues, I am not really in contact with my father, so the news was probably less upsetting to me than they were anticipating.”

“So I gather. Have you been to visit your father at all?”

“Yes. I went last night. He was still unconscious.”

“You know he’s come round now?”

“The hospital left me a message. I might go back after work, if I get a chance.”

“I think he might appreciate that.”

Taryn made a noise, and Sam Hollands tried a different tack. “Are you aware of the circumstances of Mrs. Fletcher-Norman’s death?”

Taryn shook her head. She wanted to say,
Actually, I’m not especially interested in that, either
, but a part of her somewhere was certainly curious. “Car crash?”

“Mrs. Fletcher-Norman was found in her car at the bottom of Ambleside Quarry. We’re trying to establish whether there might have been any connection between her death and the murder of Polly Leuchars.”

“She was found at the bottom of a quarry? You mean she drove off the edge and killed herself?”

“It’s possible.”

“How strange.”

“Why?”

“I can’t think of anyone less likely to commit suicide than Barbara.”

“What do you mean?”

Taryn thought about Barbara being mean, vindictive, and rude; thought of her voice getting louder when she’d had a drink. “I guess she was always a bit flaky. But I never realized she was unhappy. You said you’re linking her suicide to Polly’s death? Does that mean you think she killed Polly?”

“We can’t rule anything out yet, but it’s one of the lines of inquiry.”

Taryn took a deep breath. She had a sudden mental picture of the bruises she had seen on her father’s arm last night. “I didn’t think she was prone to violence. Has my father said anything?”

“About what?”

“About—oh, maybe she was violent at home, or something. You don’t simply turn psycho and kill people overnight, do you? Even if you have a reason.”

“Not usually. You know, your father may tell you things that he wouldn’t feel comfortable telling the police.”

Taryn gave a short laugh. “Have you met my father?”

“I saw him earlier.”

“Well, then. He tells you what he wants you to hear. That goes for you as well as me.”

“I realize things are—difficult between you. Can I ask how that came about?”

Taryn was useless at fibbing, even when she was doing it with good intentions; she would blush, fluster, get things muddled up. The safest thing to do would be not to answer.

So she took a deep breath, tried to be calm. “It’s nothing in particular. He left my mother when I was quite small. Ever since then I’ve been a bit of an inconvenience to him. Having to see me was always a chore. It was hurtful. But it’s only in the last few years that I can’t seem to put up with it anymore. He’s not used to people standing up to him; he doesn’t like it. So these days we steer clear of each other.”

“And Barbara?”

“She was a complete bitch. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of her after she’s died in a horrible way, but she was. She was always hostile toward me, which is bad enough when you’re an adult; when you’re a small child it’s very difficult to deal with.”

“I can imagine,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”

Taryn was taken aback by the sympathy, more so because she could tell that Sam Hollands meant it. “Are you?”

“Of course. You can’t choose your family, can you? And you can’t really escape it, not when you’re too young to be able to speak up for yourself.”

“No. Exactly.”

“Can you remember when you last visited them?”

“Months ago. I can’t remember exactly. April, sometime. That was the last time I saw him until last night in the hospital.”

“Did you speak to them on the phone in that time?”

“No. The last time I went to the Barn, with the bike, they weren’t in and I left a note.”

“The bike?”

Taryn sighed. It sounded so stupid, this. “He’d taken up cycling, for some reason. I got him a bike for Christmas. It wasn’t right. Long story.”

There was a pause. Taryn wondered if she was supposed to say anything else. Then Sam smiled at her and produced a business card. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Will you give me a call if you think of anything that might help us?”

“I don’t think there’s anything I
can
help with,” Taryn said quickly. “I only met Polly once or twice.”

“But your father might mention something to you that would be helpful. After all, they were right across the road from Polly. Who knows what they might have seen, or heard.”

“Surely he would tell you that himself.”

“Nevertheless. You never know if you might need to talk,” she said. Her voice was calm, soothing. Taryn wondered at the woman’s patience.

“Thank you,” she said at last, giving in. “You’ve been really kind.”

She watched Sam Hollands heading back toward reception and thought about the other police officer, the great hulking rugby player, and she knew which one of the two she preferred.

16:05

The MIR was busy when they got back. Jane Phelps collared Jason as soon as he got through the door, and when Lou logged on to the workstation she saw that she had received a hundred and fifty new emails.

She left her door open to listen to the buzz from the room, trying to catch up on all the stuff that had come in, and as a result Andy Hamilton thought it was okay to walk straight into her office and sit down. She deliberately ignored him until he gave a discreet cough.

“Have you got an update for me?” Lou asked, still looking at the screen. Deleting emails.

He looked surprised when she finally managed to look at him.

“Everything okay?” Andy asked.

“Everything’s fine. What have I missed?”

“We’ve had intel back on Maitland. Only the same stuff we had last year about him and the McDonnells doing people trafficking. Special Branch were looking at it, but they’ve got other stuff on their plates right now. Mandy says there should be some more later this evening, she’s putting it all on HOLMES.”

“Good—it’s something, anyway. Would be excellent if we could get another phone number for Maitland.”

“Speaking of whom, I met up with Flora. She’s pretty done in by Polly’s death. Seems she had a relationship with her earlier this year. She said it ended in the summer when she moved out of the farm.”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s more to it than she was telling me, but whether she bumped her off I couldn’t say.”

Lou realized he was jumpy, excitable, beyond what might have been caused by her bad mood. “What else?”

“The PM is done with Mrs. Fletcher-Norman.”

“And?”

He smiled. “Multiple head wounds. Multiple trauma. Excess blood alcohol, consistent with her being rat-arsed. And some of the blood she was covered in wasn’t actually hers.”

17:45

He saw her before she saw him, stopping at the nurses’ station and waiting patiently for them to pay attention to her. She’d put on weight, of course. Impatience nearly made him call out to her but, really, what was the point. Everything just felt too exhausting. She would find him eventually, and if she’d just turn her head slightly she would see him anyway. Like a sensible person would do. He despaired of her.

And at that moment she looked round and, very briefly, there was the happy, girlish smile of recognition before she put the mask back on.

“Hello.”

She approached the bed but did not kiss him. Did not touch him at first, then after a moment or two took his hand in hers.

“Taryn. I’m glad you’ve come. Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?”

He gave a light cough. His throat was still dry from all the tubes. “I’m fine. I don’t know how long they’re planning to keep me here, though.”

He wanted her to say something about Barbara but knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t one to hold with convention, his daughter. “How are you? How is Chris?”

Taryn’s husband had only been to the Barn once. Likable enough—heating engineer, or something like that. For a while Taryn had tried to organize meetings; she had invited Brian and Barbara to dinner in that godforsaken terraced box they lived in, tiny rooms and flatpack furniture, until they’d made it clear that they had other things to do. Chris, the husband, was as disinterested in their lives as they were in his. They had zero to talk about, and on those rare meetings it had been nothing short of awkward.

Taryn had married him quietly in the register office a couple of years ago, which suited Barbara, who hadn’t been at all happy at the prospect of them having to pay for a big bash. He’d slipped Taryn some money toward the honeymoon. Where had they gone? Cornwall. That was it, Cornwall, in October. Of all places. They’d had to save up, apparently.

“Chris is fine. I’m fine. Is there anything you need me to do?”

His eyes closed, just for a moment, in concentration. “Yes, lots of things. Can you go and see if the house is all right? I don’t trust the police to set the burglar alarm and lock up properly. Sister Nolan, the Irish one? She’s got some of my things somewhere. The door keys, car keys. Can you go inside, make sure it’s all in order? Check the post, that sort of thing?”

“If I get time. I’m busy at work. Do you need me to bring you anything? Clothes?” Her tone was flat.

A voice came from behind, loud and Irish. “He needs clean pajamas, a towel, a flannel, toothbrush, all of those things. With a bit of luck he will be on the ward before Monday, and we can’t have him there without him being nice and clean. You should also find him a set of clothes, it would be good to get him up and dressed before too long. Okay now? I have the keys for you.”

For a moment Brian and his daughter locked eyes, years of things unsaid passing between them. Then she turned and walked away.

5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

From:
Karen ASLETT—Source Coordinator

To:
DCI Louisa SMITH

Subject:
Nigel MAITLAND

Date:
02/11/12

Grading B / 2 / 4

Nigel MAITLAND is currently involved in money-laundering enterprises using offshore accounts.

5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

From:
Karen ASLETT—Source Coordinator

To:
DCI Louisa SMITH

Subject:
Nigel MAITLAND

Date:
02/11/12

Grading B / 2 / 4

Nigel MAITLAND was responsible for a recent shipment of illegal immigrants. They traveled into the country via Dover aboard a Lithuanian-registered lorry. The shipment was due to travel to London but was diverted elsewhere following a tip-off.

5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

From:
Karen ASLETT—Source Coordinator

To:
DCI Louisa SMITH

Subject:
Nigel MAITLAND—Harry McDONNELL—Lewis McDONNELL

Date:
02/11/12

Grading B / 2 / 4

Harry McDONNELL and Lewis McDONNELL are working with Nigel MAITLAND to operate a people-smuggling enterprise. The younger females are forced to work in a brothel in London, and are threatened with violence. The males are put to work on farms in the north of England until they have paid their transportation costs.

5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

From:
Karen ASLETT—Source Coordinator

To:
DCI Louisa SMITH

Subject:
Nigel MAITLAND—Harry McDONNELL—Lewis McDONNELL

Date:
02/11/12

Grading B / 2 / 4

The McDONNELL brothers and Nigel MAITLAND are still bringing illegals through Dover. MAITLAND organizes legitimate shipment of goods to and from the continent via his farming business. One in five of the lorries is carrying immigrants. They are housed in a special container between the lorry cab and the refrigeration unit.

5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

From:
Karen ASLETT—Source Coordinator

To:
DCI Louisa SMITH

Subject:
Nigel MAITLAND—Harry McDONNELL—Lewis McDONNELL

Date:
02/11/12

Grading B / 2 / 4

It is believed that the recent shipment of illegal immigrants that Nigel MAITLAND and the McDONNELL brothers arranged via Dover ended up in the Briarstone area following some problem at the original drop-off location. Lewis McDONNELL was not happy about this and it is likely that MAITLAND will get into some trouble over it as the brothers see it as his mistake.