Shades of Evil (6 page)

When Jill arrived at headquarters the following morning, she went straight to the coffee machine. If she’d known Clive White would be standing there, a clipboard under his arm as he took a full plastic cup from the dispenser, she would have given it a miss.

‘Hi, Jill. I wanted to buy you a drink last night, but you’d already left.’

‘I was driving so I didn’t stay long.’

‘No hangover for you then?’

‘Nope. I just need a coffee to warm me up a bit. Why? Are people feeling a bit the worse for wear after last night’s session?’

‘A few are. The boss won’t be pleased.’

He certainly wouldn’t.

‘So what are you doing here, Clive?’

Her tone was sharper than she’d intended, but seeing him at every turn was beginning to annoy her.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not working.’ He thrust the clipboard at her. ‘You remember last year I organized the New Year Run? I’m doing it again this year.’

‘Really?’ And now she felt guilty, which was absurd. ‘Good for you.’

But she felt guilty every time she saw him, as if she’d stolen a favourite toy from a child, and that was ludicrous. She should have more confidence in herself. She’d deemed him unfit to continue in his job, and that should be the end of it.

‘Any chance of some sponsorship?’ he asked. ‘I’m raising funds for the hospice, the same as last year.’

‘Yes, of course.’

She took the clipboard from him, signed her name and promised a more than generous donation if he completed the run. She was sure he would. He found it difficult to accept failure.

‘So are you out training in this weather?’ she asked.

‘I’m trying to. It’ll either get me very fit or kill me.’

She smiled at that. ‘Rather you than me.’

‘Jill—’ He hugged the clipboard to him, and clutched his hot drink tightly. ‘About the time—’

‘Let’s forget it, shall we?’

She knew exactly what he referring to, and she really didn’t want to talk about it.

‘I just want to say sorry.’ He shuffled his feet. ‘I was horrified to be suspended from duty and I was angry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, though, and I’m sorry about that.’

She’d known an apology was coming, but the fact that he sounded sincere surprised her.

They’d bumped into each other in the Green Man, the day she’d deemed him unfit to work. He’d lost his temper with her, calling her a power-crazed shrink among other things.

‘Forget it, Clive. In the same situation, I would have been angry, too. But you did witness a terrible tragedy. Not only were you chasing a suspect, you had to try and save the life of an innocent bystander.’

And watch the young man die as they waited for the ambulance.

‘Anyone would struggle to cope with that,’ she went on, ‘and I’m sure some time away from the job will do you good.’

‘But that’s just it. I’m not struggling. These things happen and I can accept that.’

In other words, he was pushing it from his mind and that wasn’t healthy.

‘You’ll soon be back with us. And probably wishing you were still at home,’ she added with a dry smile. ‘It’s manic here right now.’

‘I can imagine. Trust me to be stuck at home when there’s a good juicy murder, eh?’

The words sounded callous, but he wouldn’t be the only officer thinking that way. Clive was ambitious. He was young, too. He would have seen this as a chance to shine in front of superior officers. To him, a murder investigation would represent promotion.

‘There will be others, Clive.’

‘Yeah. Anyway, I’m sorry about – well, you know. And thanks for the sponsorship. I’m hoping to beat last year’s effort. I raised just over three grand then.’

‘I remember. Good luck.’

‘Thanks. And thanks for being so understanding. I’m really sorry.’ He spotted a couple of officers heading towards the main reception. ‘I spy more sponsorship. See you, Jill.’

‘See you.’

As she waited for her plastic cup to fill, she watched him laughing with the two PCs. They wrote on his clipboard so she guessed he’d managed to get more sponsorship.

She carried her coffee to her office, and saw that a large note had been stuck to her desk. ‘Marshall in rm 3. Give me a buzz when you’re ready.’

Max would have to wait while she drank her coffee and checked her email.

She was pleased they’d found Ricky Marshall, but why interview room three? It was easily the coldest place in the building and competition was stiff for that particular accolade.

Fifteen minutes later, she phoned Max. ‘You’ve found Ricky Marshall then? How did you manage that?’

‘He’s well known. Are you ready for a chat with him?’

‘I can be.’

Jill kept a spare jumper in her office for emergencies such as this and, before going to meet Max, she put it on. She loathed being cold. It slowed her thought processes.

‘Why,’ she demanded of Max as they headed along the corridor towards it, ‘is the room never used in the summer and yet seems to be first choice in winter?’

‘The others have been painted,’ he explained, ‘and we can’t subject people to fumes. Had I known we’d want you along, I’d have told you to wear your thermals.’

‘Who says I’m not?’

She pushed open the door, saw Ricky Marshall and had to bite back a laugh. Lauren’s flatmate Jo had said she thought Ricky had his teeth done by his barber and his hair done by his dentist. A more apt description of anyone it would be difficult to find.

She looked at Max and saw the same amusement in his eyes.

They sat opposite Marshall and went through the usual performance of switching on the equipment, informing him he was being recorded and introducing themselves.

It became clear that he enjoyed being under the spotlight. As he had several previous convictions for theft, he was well used to the procedure.

‘When did you last see Lauren Cole?’ Max asked him.

‘I’ve already told you.’

‘Then tell me again.’

‘A couple of weeks ago.’

‘Where?’

‘Can’t remember. Some pub or other, I expect.’

‘OK, let’s start at the beginning,’ Jill suggested. ‘Where did you first meet her? Can you manage to remember that?’

‘Yeah. It was at the Commercial.’

Jill had never been inside, but she knew the place by reputation. It was an ugly, sprawling town centre pub where fights broke out on a regular basis. Drinks were cheap so it attracted a young crowd.

‘When was that?’ she asked him and he shrugged.

‘About six weeks ago.’

‘Tell us about it. She was there with friends, yes? You got talking?’

‘No.’ He had a sneering smile that made Jill long to slap him. ‘She was there on her own. She wasn’t bad looking, and there was nowt better in, so I went up to her.’

Nowt better in?
Jill could have howled with laughter. He thought he was a gift to the female species. He believed he’d done Lauren Cole a favour.

‘She was very attractive,’ she corrected him, ‘and you’re trying to tell us that you were the best she could do? I find that hard to believe. Let’s face it, Ricky, you haven’t been well blessed in the looks department, have you?’

He didn’t answer, just stared back at her, and Jill waited for the insult that she felt sure was coming. But either he couldn’t think of anything suitable, or he couldn’t be bothered.

‘So, having gone to chat her up, did you wine her and dine her? Or is a quick shag in the bogs more your style?’ Jill leaned back in her chair to wait for his answer. Often, when she reduced conversation to the opposition’s level, they talked. Ricky was the exception; he didn’t say a word.

‘Lauren was a bit classy, wasn’t she?’ she pushed on. ‘She came from a good family. So what was she doing with you? Did she fancy a bit of rough, Ricky?’

No answer.

‘It didn’t last long, though, did it? And you didn’t get to have sex with her, did you?’

‘I did!’

‘Liar,’ Jill scoffed.

‘What do you know about it?’

‘I know you didn’t sleep with her. You called her a prick tease. You thought you were on a promise but she didn’t deliver, did she?’

‘So what?’

‘So the fact that you were seen hammering on her door and calling her names makes you a suspect in a murder investigation,’ Max informed him.

‘You what?’

Gone was the cocky young man who enjoyed being the centre of attention. In his place was someone who was suddenly looking very nervous.

‘Now, look, that’s nowt to do with me. You know that. Aw, come on, that’s bloody daft.’

‘Is it?’ Max asked. ‘Why?’

Jill brought to mind photos of the dead girl. It had been a brutal killing, but swift. Someone had lifted that axe and brought it down right through her skull.

‘Why the hell would I kill her?’ Marshall asked urgently. ‘I told you, I saw her a fortnight ago and that was it. I haven’t seen her since.’

‘You’d kill her for revenge,’ Jill said. ‘You thought you were guaranteed great sex and she didn’t deliver. You thought you’d teach her a lesson.’

‘Bollocks! Christ, she reckoned everyone fancied the tits off her. Maybe it was one of them did it to her.’

‘Like who?’ Max asked.

‘Well, I don’t know, do I? Everyone. She reckoned everyone she spoke to fancied her.’

‘So you said. Give us an example, Ricky.’

‘There was her landlord for a start. She reckoned he only called in to chat her up.’

Lauren’s landlord was overweight, pushing sixty and, more important, gay. He’d be more likely to go for Marshall than Lauren.

‘Who else?’ Max asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’re not doing very well, are you?’ Jill said.

‘Wait. There was another bloke she saw when she walked that dog of hers. He gave her the creeps, she said, but he fancied her, too.’

‘Another bloke? That narrows it down a lot,’ Max said.

‘She sometimes saw him when she was taking the dog for a walk. She reckoned he was old, about fifty probably. Called him a dirty old man. Said he wore a funny grey hat, like his mum had knitted it for him.’

‘Where did she see him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Where did she walk her dog?’ Jill asked.

‘I don’t know. I’ve told you, I don’t know.’

‘You must have some idea,’ Max insisted. ‘Sometimes she walked the dog through town. Sometimes she drove out to Kelton Bridge and walked the dog over the hills there.’

‘So?’

‘So where did she see this man?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ricky said again. ‘All I know is that he used to chat her up. Or so she said. And he had a dog.’

‘What sort of dog?’ Max wanted to know.

‘I don’t know. Christ, I wasn’t interested. If I’d took an interest in every bloke she claimed fancied her, I’d have a bloody degree in it!’

‘She loved that dog of hers,’ Jill said, ‘and the dog loved to go for walks. Now, given this big romance you had going with her, I’m surprised she didn’t invite you along when she took Charlie out.’

‘She did,’ he boasted. ‘I went three or four times. We went into Burnley and walked round Towneley Park.’

‘And you didn’t see any men in grey hats?’ Max asked.

‘No. We saw no one. Oh yeah, once we saw a woman with two little yappy dogs. Lauren said hello to her.’

Jill couldn’t understand what had attracted Lauren Cole to Marshall in the first place. Assuming she’d been looking for thrills and excitement, perhaps his lack of respect for authority had appealed. If she’d been after scintillating conversation, however, she must have been sorely disappointed.

‘What about Josh?’ Jill asked. ‘Does the name ring a bell?’

‘No.’

‘Really? I’m surprised. He was always on the phone to her apparently,’ Jill informed him. ‘She must have mentioned him to you.’

‘No.’

‘Perhaps that’s why she didn’t want sex with you,’ Jill said. ‘Perhaps the lucky Josh was wearing her out.’

‘Never heard of him.’

‘You used to phone Lauren presumably?’ Max asked.

‘Course I did.’

‘What number did you have for her?’

‘You what?’

‘Tell me Lauren’s phone number.’

Marshall’s phone was clipped to his belt and he switched it on.

‘I’ve probably deleted it,’ he muttered, scrolling through a list of contacts. ‘No, I haven’t. There it is.’

He thrust his phone at Max.

‘Thanks.’

Max, too, scrolled through the list of contacts.

‘Tell you what,’ he said pleasantly, ‘we’ll leave you alone for an hour or so and you can have a little think. Maybe you’ll remember something else. Hey, I’ll even get someone to bring you a cup of tea.’

‘What about my phone?’

 ‘You’ll get it back. Later.’

Jill’s feet were numb and she was more than happy to end the interview.

‘What did you think?’ Max asked when they were out of the room.

‘I think he’s an obnoxious little shit,’ she said.

‘Agreed.’

‘But I don’t think he knows anything more than he’s told us. He doesn’t seem bright enough to lie.’

‘He doesn’t seem bright enough to breathe. Still, it’ll do him good to sit in there and freeze. I’ll get this phone looked at and send someone out to Towneley Park with Lauren’s photo.’

‘In that case, I’ll go back to my nice warm office.’

‘Is it warm?’

‘It is now I’ve pinched a heater from CID.’

Bellingham’s Turf Accountant Limited was Kelton Bridge’s most recent acquisition and Jill loved it. It was different to any other bookmaker’s she’d ever been inside. For one thing, it was clean. Bert and his wife Stella had recently sold a thriving business in Cornwall and moved to the village to retire. It was Bert who couldn’t idle away his days and Stella who was responsible for the two vases of fresh scented flowers and the tasteful Christmas decorations, something Jill had never seen in a bookie’s before.

Over the years, she’d been in some disreputable book-maker’s, the worst in Manchester where the owner hadn’t seemed to care that his dog, a Rottweiler, kept its teeth permanently bared. Here the ‘bookie’s dog’ was a Yorkshire terrier called Minty who had a yellow ribbon in her hair and a welcome for everyone.

Three large television screens above the counter were loud enough to be heard, but not too intrusive and half a dozen people were watching them. Jill exchanged pleasantries with them, but she knew they were humouring her. As far as they were concerned, a female couldn’t be expected to know one end of a horse from another.