Separated at Death (The Lakeland Murders) (12 page)

‘We wanted to bring you up to date on where we are with the inquiry’ said Hall. ‘Did you know that we’d interviewed a lad who Amy knew, and who was with her on Wednesday evening?’

‘Yes. Your colleague Inspector Robinson phoned me to tell me that it was happening.’

Mann tried not to smile at the Super’s demotion.

‘Well the young man, he’s called Ryan Wilson, has now been bailed.’

‘So does that mean that he didn’t do it, or that you just can’t prove that he did?’

‘Ryan is still a suspect, but we are also actively pursuing other lines of enquiry.’

Hamilton’s voice sounded different, edgier and angrier somehow.

‘Which means you can’t be sure that he did it, and if he didn’t you haven’t got a clue who did.’

That’s about it, thought Mann.

Hall noticed that the pictures of both daughters had been removed from the mantelpiece. ‘I’d like to explore a few points in a bit more detail if that’s OK’ he said, taking control of the interview in the assertive way that all the courses demanded. ‘First of all, had you noticed any changes in Amy’s behaviour, her routine, anything, over the past few months? Since the end of the summer holidays say?’

‘I don’t think so. Work had picked up at school, and she’d recently finished doing her university application forms. But otherwise no, nothing that I can think of.’

‘My oldest has been filling in all those forms too, they do take ages.’

Hamilton looked straight at him. Hall couldn’t read his expression, or begin to guess what was going through Hamilton’s mind. Perhaps he was wishing that his daughter and this policeman’s could swap places. And Hall wouldn’t have blamed him one little bit if he had. ‘So you haven’t become aware that she was seeing different people, doing different things?’

‘No, but that doesn’t mean much, does it? I didn’t even know that she was seeing this lad Ryan. He goes to her school I expect?’

‘No, he’s not at Amy’s school. They met at the nightclub in town. She seems to have kept her relationship away from her friends at school too. Any idea why that might have been?’

Hamilton sat quietly for a moment. His whole body seemed to tell of defeat and confusion. ‘Absolutely not. Amy had no secrets from us, from me or her mum, as far as I knew. But how well do you ever really know anyone?’

Hall smiled slightly. He knew exactly what Hamilton meant.

‘John, you’ll appreciate that we’re going to have to have a really close look at where everyone close to Amy was on Wednesday night, no exceptions. Now you were here, on your own, weren’t you?’

Hamilton nodded.

‘And you didn’t make or receive any phone calls until you started to try to find Amy.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And did you go online at all? Check your bank account, do anything like that?’

‘How would that help?’

‘Because your browsing history would tell us when you were online. People’s browsing habits tend to be quite repetitive, and we have people who can usually tell if someone was actually using a computer when they said they were. Even things like dwell time on a page can be indicative.’ Hall stopped abruptly. Why on earth would Hamilton be interested in all that? ‘So did you go online?’

Hall sensed Hamilton’s uncertainty. Perhaps it was just exhaustion, or perhaps he was deciding what to say. It was the first time that Hall had sensed that, and it was usually a bad sign. ‘We just want to see what time you were online, that’s all. So could we borrow your laptop for a couple of days? It would be very helpful.’

Hamilton agreed, very slightly reluctantly, and while Mann went out to the car to find a big evidence bag Hall asked Hamilton how he was keeping.

‘I honestly don’t believe that anything could be worse than this. Nothing prepares you for it, and nothing helps when it’s happened. You know when people say that the only time that they feel any peace is at the moment they wake up, in that fraction of a second between sleeping and waking? Well that’s actually how it is for me. And I can’t see it ever getting better. I still haven’t even taken it in really. I keep wondering if it would be better if we were still a proper family.’

Hall nodded. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Hamilton seemed to sense his discomfort. His natural politeness seemed to be returning. ‘How are things going with you at home? Any progress?’

‘Yes, my wife is moving on, which means out, and I’m staying put with the kids.’

‘So that’s good.’

‘Yes, I’m sure it will work out for the best.’

Hall expected that this was the kind of platitude that he’d be repeating often over the coming months.

‘But it doesn’t feel like that at the moment, does it? I’d like to be able to tell you that it gets better, and maybe it does, but until this all happened I was beginning to have my doubts. When you think about it logically it’s completely daft, because if someone wants to be with someone else then that’s really up to them. Of course it is. So it really shouldn’t be the end of the world for anyone. But eventually I realised that I wasn’t grieving for the loss of my wife, but for the loss of us as a family. Even my memories of the kids growing up, of the school plays and the holidays, they suddenly seemed out-of-bounds to me somehow. But now this has happened, and all that suddenly just seems like nothing. I just feel like I’ve been a self-pitying bastard all this time. Maybe if I’d thought more about my kids, and less about myself, all this might never have happened.’

Hall heard Mann coming back in, opening the door and walking heavily along the hall. He spoke, without thinking first. ‘Tell you what John. Do you like walking?’

‘When I get the chance, yes.’

‘Then let’s get an hour or two in tomorrow. I’ll  even buy you a bacon buttie afterwards.’

‘You’re on. Where shall we meet?’

They agreed to meet at the car park on Scout Scar at ten. That seemed plenty late enough to both of them.

Hall and Mann dropped the laptop off at the station, and drove on to Amanda’s new house. It was a handsome Victorian terrace close to the centre of the village of Staveley. It smelt very faintly of real fires, real coffee and the ten-foot tall Christmas tree in the hall.

Amanda Hamilton had come to the door herself. She had the same dazed look as her husband, the same pallor, and she showed Hall and Mann into the living room. A younger man, perhaps in his late thirties, was sitting on a sofa and got up as they came in. Hall assumed that it was the new husband.

‘This is Simon Hamilton, John’s younger brother.’

The man shook hands. He didn’t say much, but there didn’t seem to be much need. Hall struggled to remember what the background file had said about Simon. He wanted to get a feel for him. ‘You’re in property, aren’t you?’ he asked.

‘Yes, for my sins.’

‘I imagine times are tough?’

Hamilton seemed to bristle very slightly.

‘We manage. It’s all about cash flow now. And if you’ve got the cash there are always deals to be done.’ Hamilton smiled.

Hall was already all out of financial small-talk. Other than the Police pension scheme and a few thousand in cash ISAs he had no knowledge of investments, and always put the personal finance section of the paper aside, unopened, along with travel pages.

‘Anyway, I must be off’ said Simon. ‘If there’s anything you need Amanda, just let me know. And remember what I said. I meant every word.’

If anything Amanda looked more upset than before, rather than less, so Hall was glad to see him go. They’d catch up with Simon later.

Hall and Mann both accepted a coffee. Hall also accepted the offer of biscuits.

While Amanda was making the coffee Hall heard a key turn in the lock, and a few moments later a man walked into the room. He was very well dressed for an odd job man, thought Hall unkindly.

‘This is my husband, Robert Preston. I still use Hamilton, because of the kids.’

They all made their way into the living room. Hall saw no reason to see Mrs Hamilton alone, and he was interested in getting a good look at Preston too.

‘I wanted to bring you up-to-date on the investigation, Mrs Hamilton. You probably know that there have been developments?’

‘I heard that you arrested a young lad, but you’ve had to let him go again. Does that mean he didn’t do it?’

‘Not necessarily, no. What it means is that we’re not in a position to charge him.’

‘But I thought the DNA proved it was him.’

‘It proved that he, er, knew Amy, but there’s nothing to suggest that their contact was anything other than consensual. And he’s never denied it happened. He hasn’t told us anything about what he did that night that we can disprove, or which places him with Amy at the time of the attack. But he remains a serious suspect for us.’

‘So are you looking for anyone else?’ asked Preston.

‘If you mean are we continuing to keep an open mind then yes, we are. We found some other DNA, a very small and incomplete sample, under Amy’s fingernails, and while we can’t match it to anyone on our database we can be sure that it’s not Ryan’s. But it may well be that it’s quite unconnected with the attack on Amy.’

‘So basically you’re no further forward?’ said Preston.

‘No, I wouldn’t say that. The picture that we have of what Amy did on Wednesday evening is considerably better than it was. These things take time, Mr Preston.’

‘But I thought that in most cases of murder that get solved there’s an arrest within 24 hours?’

Hall decided that he owed Amanda Hamilton a detailed reply. He had no idea if it would help. ‘Statistically that’s quite true, but it’s actually because in quite a high proportion of cases the offender actually gives themselves up, or makes no real attempt to hide their part in what’s happened. And in most of the remaining  cases, where the killing has been un-premeditated and the killer and the victim are well known to each other, then we quickly identify our offender. And since those account for the majority of these cases then the stats do get skewed in that direction.’

‘So you’re saying that this was a random killing now?’ continued Preston.

Hall found himself getting irritated, but as usual there wasn’t the slightest outward sign. But could Preston be less sensitive? Amanda seemed not to be listening, which was a blessing at least. ‘No, I’m not saying that at all. We are a long way from completing our enquiries, and from being certain that the killer can’t be found closer to home.’

‘What the hell do you mean? Is that an accusation?’ Amanda looked up as Preston raised his voice. Hall took his time before he replied.

‘Just a figure of speech. I was just trying to explain the process, since you obviously want to understand how we conduct enquiries like this. But I am saying that we do scrutinise the lives of the victim, and of those closest to her. It’s unfortunate, but it is part of the process, and for very good reason. Stranger killings aren’t unheard of, but they are rare.’

Mann was watching Preston closely. He still looked angry. But did he look just a little concerned as well? Maybe it was Hall’s comment about the DNA evidence. When they were back in the car Mann suggested that he take a look at Preston.

‘Yes, good idea, but don’t draw too many conclusions based on what he was like just now. He may just be struggling to find a role in all this despair. Maybe he feels guilty because his grief isn’t as profound as Amy’s mum’s, and so he’s overplaying things a bit. I could certainly understand that.’

Mann nodded, but he still had his doubts. Guilty was as guilty does.

He was in no hurry. It was only just after lunchtime, so he doubted that Wayne would be up and about yet. But he didn’t want to take any chances, so he checked his mobile was charged and made for the door.

As he expected Wayne’s house looked empty, but then it always did. Ryan had taken his mum’s old Fiesta, and he parked up the street from Wayne’s place. He didn’t think that Wayne had ever seen the car, and if he had he wouldn’t remember it.

Nothing happened until about four, when a few schoolkids started to turn up at the house, usually in pairs. Ryan never saw Wayne, but he knew how it worked, because he’d first met Wayne when he was one of those kids.

Back then Wayne didn’t seem to notice him for a while, but after a year or so Wayne started to get him to do slightly more responsible jobs, and to carry larger amounts of gear on the way out and cash on the way back. Ryan soon realised that it was because Wayne had sussed that he wasn’t sampling the merchandise, let alone nicking it, and that made Ryan useful. Especially because Wayne most certainly did consume his own product, and that had become increasingly obvious over the past few months.