Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(103)

‘I’ll have a pint of the usual.’ Towan made some space at the bar. He didn’t mind the hostility too much. But it irked him that he’d spent all these months convincing people that he’d put his past behind him and now they were so quick to see him as a murderer.

Raymonds turned up when Towan was on his third pint and scowling into his glass. Raymonds stopped to hold court along the way and Towan watched him, half-amused but wholly angry, as Raymonds accepted all the sympathy over the death of his cousin, Stokes. There were nervous glances Towan’s way as people expressed their horror at his father’s killing. Raymonds spent his time reassuring them that they were safe – that the killer was almost caught, for sure. The killer was on borrowed time.

Towan’s eyes had become a little glazed from the beer and his face was a little red, his lips wet from the constant licking in anxiety. Raymonds had spotted him and was wondering how to manage the situation. As he got near to Towan, Towan called him over to have a pint. Everyone in the bar watched. Raymonds came near and slapped him on the shoulder.

‘You all right, Towan, bearing up? Let me buy you a beer on this sad night.’ He whispered in his ear, ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘Because your dad has just been murdered and any grieving son who hasn’t been inside for GBH would be at home getting pissed on his own, not in a bar with his enemies. Now drink up and be gone. I can tell everyone how upset you are.’

‘I don’t need you to talk for me.’

‘Course you don’t – but you’re going to be my next business partner and I want people to have respect for you.’

‘Yeah – about that – I want some proof. I want something in writing.’ People began to look at Raymonds and Towan. Raymonds was beginning to sweat through the smile.

‘Did you find the ledger?’

‘No – the police have it.’

‘Shit.’ Raymonds scowled and then smiled, tight-lipped. ‘I’ll think of something. Leave it to me. You have the numbers and names somewhere of your contacts in Penhaligon?’

‘Some, yeah – lots I just gave to Dad to deal with after they’d been here once.’

‘Okay, well, that’s your job, you get straight on that again and start remembering.’

‘That’s all my job is, is it?’

‘For now, and I left a few Surfshack bags for you out on the path to Garra Cove. I need you to take them down and throw them weighted into the water for me. I can’t risk being seen. You’re quicker on your feet than me.’

‘What’s in the bags?’

‘You’re better off not knowing.’

‘Is it the boy?’

‘Would it matter if it was?’

‘No, I’m just asking, that’s all.’

‘It’s some papers I don’t want them finding if they search my house.’

‘If you are aiming to set me up, Raymonds, I’ll feed you to my pigs, I swear.’

‘Keep your voice down.’

Towan muttered a few choice expletives at Raymonds then he left half of his drink and slammed the door on his way out of the bar. He walked back down the steps and the air was filled with the roar of the waves breaking onto the cliffs below. He passed Raymonds’ car. The Silver Fox was sleek and fine; Towan took out his key and was about to scrape all along the side when he changed his mind and tried the door.





Chapter 46


Sandford’s idea of starting at Kellis House in the morning hadn’t panned out. He’d decided he had too much on his plate to delay and if he could give his team something to get working on then he could hop between the sites.

He let himself into Kellis House and flicked the switch in the hall. It reminded him of a nutty stately home he’d been in once where it turned out the architect was out of his skull on opium. It was dark and so wood-panelled it was like being inside a coffin. He changed into his forensic suit and had a look at Carter’s request. The bathroom was a definite for ripping out, so was the downstairs front room that overlooked the driveway at the front. Sandford opened his forensic kit and mixed the bottle of Luminol, a fluorescent chemical, with the same amount of distilled water, then decanted it into a spray with a fine nozzle. He walked into the front room, rolled up the rug and used a crowbar to lever up three planks in equidistance on the floor. He sprayed the Luminol and shone an ultraviolet torch into the area. It was so sensitive that it could detect blood present in such small amounts – one part per million, even on walls that had been painted over and on floors that had been thoroughly cleaned. He found nothing. He walked down towards the back room with the veranda and into the kitchen area. The kitchen had the usual amount of blood you’d expect from an area that saw animal blood spilled in food preparation. He walked up the stairs slowly as he sprayed the chemical and shone his torch into the crevices of the stairs. He took a brief look into the bedrooms and then went into the bathroom marked on Carter’s plan. He’d had his team drop off some tools before they left for the evening. They were staying in Penhaligon. There were too many of them to lodge at the hotel.

He was about to get started with seeing the best way to lift the floor when there was a ring on the doorbell. Carter stood there with a couple of beers in his hand.