Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(28)



‘Raymonds has a son, still living in the village?’

‘Seems so. He owns the Surfshack – a shop on the beach. He’s thirty-one, unmarried.’

‘Does it seem strange to you that all these men are in their thirties and they still live near their mum and dad?’

‘Not really. You do?’

‘Yes, I suppose so, but London is a bit different from a tiny village in Cornwall. How do they make a good enough living?’

‘Not everyone needs a lot to be happy.’

‘We’ll see.’

After an hour and a half on the motorway and another hour on the dual carriageway, they saw the first signs for Penhaligon.





Chapter 13


They followed the signs for Penhaligon town centre.

‘I came here on a lads’ weekend once,’ said Carter. ‘I could probably find the exact guesthouse we stayed in.’ He leaned forward at the wheel as he scanned the streets. ‘There it is.’ He pointed out a blue and white house with a stripy awning and a pub bench and chairs outside. ‘Atlantic Blue, that’s it. What a shit-hole, but a lot of fun.’

‘This place looks quite lively.’

‘Yes, too lively on a Saturday night. Big problems with antisocial behaviour – drunken louts like me coming down from the city.’

‘Second right now, guv.’ Willis read out the instructions from her phone.

‘I see it.’ They pulled into the police station car park. ‘This place looks original 1970s,’ Carter said as he got out of the car.

‘From the Met?’ asked the desk sergeant.

‘That’s right. Major Investigation Team 17; we’re expected by DS Pascoe, is he around?’

‘Yes. Hello, I’m Pascoe. Nice to meet you.’ A muscular-looking man in his late forties with a faint ginger stubble and a bald head that looked like it had taken a few knocks appeared from a door behind the counter, came round and shook both their hands. He had shovel-size hands and a nose that looked like it had been broken a few too many times.

‘I’ve got us an office.’ He led them down the corridor and through into a room at the end of the hall. ‘Hope this will be okay. You can have whatever you need, just ask. If we’ve got it, you can have it. I started a helicopter search of the area. I expect you’ll bring down more officers if the search intensifies?’

‘If we shift the emphasis to here, this place will be crawling.’ Carter looked around the office; it had space for ten people at least. ‘This is great, thanks. How far is it from Penhal?’

‘Can be forty minutes on a busy day.’

‘Can we look at other options nearer, if this investigation gets bigger?’

‘Of course, I have a place in mind in Penhal itself, just wasn’t sure what you’d want. I had a look at the file, what you’ve got so far, it’s a strange case; it’s not the father, then?’

‘We’re not ruling Toby out, but there was something going on that day that was out of his control and that makes me think twice about jumping to conclusions.’

‘The funeral, you mean?’

‘Yes, and the obvious show of strength from the villagers of Penhal. Plus, one of them is trying to buy up Jeremy Forbes-Wright’s holiday home. It looked like there was some pressure put on Toby at the funeral.’

‘Did you ever come across Jeremy Forbes-Wright?’ asked Willis as she began setting herself up on one of the computers.

‘Not personally. I was transferred from Bristol last year,’ Pascoe answered.

‘Did you hear about an ex-police sergeant who still lives in Penhal?’ Carter asked Pascoe as he made himself comfortable in one of the office chairs.

‘Raymonds, right?’

‘That’s it. What can you tell us about him?’

‘I can tell you that people consider him a legend around here. In his day he kept a tight hold on things. He looked after his own; villains who he considered worth saving were steered away from prosecution and into a rugby team or a job. He looked after his community and they loved him for it. You almost had to get his blessing before you could buy a house anywhere near the border with Penhal.’

‘Do you think it’s still like that?’

‘I think it is.’

‘Did you carry out a search of the property for us?’

‘Yes, it was interesting but not interesting enough. No sign of any recent activity in there. I would say it had been a month since anyone had stepped inside there: mail on the mat, spiders’ webs in the hallway. We did checks on electricity and gas usage and there was no increase in the last forty-eight hours. There is an alarm system installed there but it isn’t working. Here are the keys.’ He handed them across to Willis.

‘Thanks. Raymonds and another man called Martin Stokes are trying to buy Jeremy Forbes-Wright’s house off the son Toby already; he even approached him at the funeral service,’ said Willis.

‘Doesn’t surprise me. He’s single-minded when it comes to Cornwall for the Cornish. I’ve had a look at the local interest for you. The Stokes family come top of the list. Martin Stokes is a shady character.’

‘Why would Raymonds have anything to do with someone like that?’

‘He’s a cousin of Raymonds on his mother’s side. He came to live in Penhal in the 1960s. Ever since then his presence has been growing. He owns a farm. It was a small affair when he bought it, now it’s extended to take in the neighbour’s land as well.

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