Death on the Lake, Jo Allen [e reader TXT] 📗

approached the front door, and he paused before he raised a hand to the bell. There were muffled voices from somewhere that sounded as if it was the garden on the other side of the house. But he never got to the bell, because the door opened and Robert’s PA answered, her face a mask of neutrality but her eyes narrow with suspicion. To her, it was clear, they were nothing but a nuisance ‘Yes? Can I help you?’

Jude flashed his warrant card and Ashleigh did likewise. ‘Jude Satterthwaite and Ashleigh O’Halloran. We’d like a word with Mr and Mrs Neilson.’

‘Mr and Mrs Neilson, or Mr or Mrs?’ She gave them both a cool glance. Her eyes were as steel-grey as her hair and as the neat business suit.

‘Both of them, if that’s all right.’

‘Come into the living room. I’ll fetch them.’

The French windows from the living room were open and Miranda and the twins were on the patio, engaged in a heated discussion. One of the twins looked cowed, Jude thought, and was staring in silence at his shoes. The other was putting up an argument, but Miranda, uncharacteristically, was furious. Her voice carried clearly towards them. ‘For God’s sake, Ollie. What were you thinking of? What do you mean, you lost your phone?’

‘For Christ’s sake.’ The second twin, who must be Ollie, clearly thought she was over-reacting. ‘What’s wrong with you? I mean, I lost my phone. It’ll be around here somewhere. I haven’t been anywhere to lose it. And supposing I did drop it somewhere and it’s in a ditch or in the lake or something. We can get a new one.’

‘What if someone had needed to contact you?’

‘They’d have called Will. Does it really matter? Nobody died.’

‘Someone did die, Ollie. Do you have such a short memory?’

Aida coughed.

‘Yeah, but not because of my phone.’ Ollie was the one to respond to the cough, looked up, looked over Miranda’s shoulder and saw them. ‘Aida wants you,’ he said, tonelessly. It seemed that the goings-on in the dale had knocked most of the stuffing out of him.

Miranda turned towards them. She was already pale, but what was left of the colour drained away. ‘Chief Inspector. What is it now?’

That was a slip for the normally impeccable Miranda.

‘The chief inspector would like a word with you and Mr Neilson,’ said Aida, as though the situation was perfectly normal. ‘I’ll just go and get him.’

‘We’ll head off, then.’ Ollie was looking for an escape.

‘It’s okay,’ Jude said, as affably as possible with the touch of a man’s newly-dead body still shivering at this fingertips. ‘I’d quite like to have a word with you as well.’

Miranda shooed the twins into the living room, where they sat side-by-side on the sofa at the far side of the room, their faces wearing matching sullen expressions. She seemed to have recovered herself. ‘Do sit down.’

‘We won’t be long, Mrs Neilson.’ Jude sat, and Ashleigh followed his example, only for both to bounce up as Robert Neilson came in.

It was the first time they’d come face to face, such had been Robert’s ability to be out of the dale when anything untoward had occurred. Until that moment there had been no need for Jude, or anyone else, to approach him for so much as a witness statement, even if Faye’s instruction to keep at arm’s length hadn’t been in play. That being the case. Jude’s impression of this kingpin financier, this clever man suspected of involvement in massive fraud, had been one drawn from documented research rather than observation. The photographs he’d seen showed Robert to be a man slight in build, a thin face, fair hair that might already be fading to grey without anyone noticing, but in his presence there seemed a strong sense of purpose. He was a man you looked at with respect. It was clearly Robert from whom the twins got both their looks, though those were coloured by the invigorating freshness of youth, and their attitude. Jude stretched out a hand in response to the man’s gesture of welcome, fascinated. ‘DCI Jude Satterthwaite. We haven’t met.’

‘No, but I’ve heard all about you.’ Robert met his gaze, full on, a searching look. ‘What brings you down here?’

‘Some more bad news, I’m afraid.’ Robert didn’t sit, so Jude remained standing too, and the conversation narrowed to the pair of them in the centre of the room, like two boxers in a ring. ‘I’m sorry to say there’s been another unfortunate incident just down the road.’

Miranda, he noticed, could go no paler. The twins perked up, interested in a degree that suggested innocence.

‘Really?’ Robert sighed, with a trace of irritation.

‘Yes. Someone’s been found dead down in Martindale.’

Miranda moaned, but stopped when Robert darted a glance at her. ‘Who?’

‘We’ve yet to identify the body. But I thought I’d let you know there may be some disruption around the place. I also want to ask if you’ve seen anything unusual.’

‘Unusual? No, not really. Miranda and I walked up the road to the churchyard in the middle of the morning. I wouldn’t normally do that, but Aida — you’ve met Aida, my PA — went down into Penrith on an errand, so I took the chance of a break. But that was all. I have a lot to do, so even that was a luxury. We walked as far as the church, stopped at the gate and came back again.’

‘Did you see anything? Anybody?’

‘Nothing and no-one.’ Robert’s voice was firm and Miranda, when her husband looked across at her, shook her head in obedient confirmation.

‘And what about your sons?’ Jude turned away from Robert and looked at them, crouched on the sofa as if they’d been penned there by an enemy.

‘We were here all morning, weren’t we, Ollie?’

‘Yeah. We daren’t go out of the place for fear of being accused of killing someone.’

‘That’s enough, Ollie.’ There was warning in Robert’s voice.

‘Okay, thank you.’ Jude backed away from any further conversation. He’d got what he came