The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(13)

Leah nodded. ‘What do you think he wants?’

You really don’t want to know, thought Marie.

Carter said, ‘Probably nothing, Leah. It’s most likely just some love-struck kid with a crush on you. If you met him in the street he’d probably run a mile, too scared to even speak to you.’

A love-struck kid with enough spare cash for two dozen best red roses? He’s a pervert, and if he goes according to pattern, he won’t stop at a bit of heavy breathing down the phone. Marie gathered up a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure Sergeant McLean here is quite right. We’ll catch the little sod, give him a blistering ear-bashing and you’ll never hear from him again.’

Carter stood up. ‘So, if you’d like to grab your things, we’ll follow you back to your aunt’s place. Okay?’

Marie wondered just how much of their crap Leah had actually believed. Very little, probably. She looked like a smart kid. She was studying psychology, after all. No, she would know the score as well as they did. They’d sounded so patronising! Marie opened the door, wishing they’d told Leah the truth. At least she would know exactly where she stood. Even if it was a horrible place to be.

*

Jackman spent the rest of the day trying to understand how Suzanne Holland’s life fitted together. It wasn’t easy.

Robbie Melton was by far the most committed officer on this particular case. He seemed to have taken it up as a personal crusade. Well, Jackman wasn’t complaining. Max and Charlie both disliked old cases. They wanted the adrenalin charge of fresh evidence, witnesses that actually remembered something.

Unsolved cases were tedious to begin with, until the moment when you uncovered something new, and then everything changed.

So far they had found nothing, apart from a dipsomaniac ex-husband, who was always too drunk to speak to them.

Jackman looked at the clock. End of play. Maybe tomorrow something new would come to light.

*

Stone Quay was a lonely spot, and rarely visited. It sat on a wide stretch of the Westland River, miles from anywhere. Years ago there had been a small boatyard here. Now it was deserted, and the only building left standing was tumbledown and windowless.

And the only remaining boat was an ancient lifeboat called the Eva May. She was a Liverpool Class vessel, built in the 1930s and had been a fine rescue boat. In her day, she had braved mountainous seas and terrifying storms to bring both survivors and her brave crew home to safety.

Not that she was actually in the river. She stood raised up on heavy wooden support trestles, waiting for the summons to set off back into the water.

Carter and Marie sat together on the smooth, sanded wood of the aft deck with bottles of craft beer. The sun was setting in the western sky, staining it with dazzling streaks of lilac, pink and flame orange.

‘If I were the super, I’d be well worried about my niece,’ said Marie.

‘Even more worrying because she’s a police officer’s niece, isn’t it?’

‘Sure is. Threats to families aren’t common, but there are some nasty bastards out there, and I’ll bet Ruth Crooke has thrown an awful lot of them in the slammer in her time.’

Carter nodded. ‘Yeah. She may not be my favourite person — in fact I wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire — but she’s made her fair share of good arrests. If I had kids, I’d be shit-scared for their welfare. I must say I was surprised by Leah. She’s nice, isn’t she? Nothing like her aunt.’

‘I know the super can be a battle-axe, Carter, but I find her fair enough. I always feel she’s on my side in a crisis.’

‘Good, and that’s how it should be. It’s an old grudge, Marie, and it’s to do with me, no one else. Let’s not go there, huh?’

Marie nodded and sipped her beer.

For a while they sat in companionable silence, and Marie began to hope that all Carter wanted was to enjoy the peace of a summer’s evening out on the river.

‘I know what Ray wants me to do,’ Carter broke the silence.

Ah, here it comes, she thought.

‘He has a nest egg, and he wants me to find it and give it to his fiancée, Joanne.’

‘Sounds simple enough. Why the long face?’

‘Because I don’t know where it is.’

‘Mmm, I see the problem.’

‘He said it wasn’t in his own name, so that indicates a bank or a savings account of some kind. So how could an ordinary, honest bloke like Ray get himself another name?’

Marie shrugged. ‘Simple enough, if it was really important to him.’

‘It might have been very important to him. His whole family were trash, and his twin brothers were the worst of the lot. They’d have had his money away in a flash.’

‘Did you know Joanne?’

‘Yes, she’s a lovely girl. She was totally devoted to Ray, and all she wanted was to make his life comfortable. Her favourite day out would probably be a trip to Ikea, and her spare time seemed to be filled with cooking for the freezer and scanning women’s magazines for ideas on decor.’

‘Oh dear.’ Marie couldn’t imagine a life like that.

Carter sighed. ‘I know, but Ray thrived on it. And given his background, who could blame him? Ray and Joanne were a perfect match. The grafter and the homemaker. Now Joanne is cooking dinners for one, and Ray is sitting in an urn on top of the mantelpiece. Thanks to me.’