Page 25 of Worse Than Murder (DCI Matilda Darke Thriller #13)

‘Let’s say that is Travis’s car down there.

Let’s also say you find evidence linking it to Celia and Jennifer going missing.

You’ll need to consider Travis to be a suspect.

You’ll need to look at the original investigation and see why it wasn’t picked up first time around.

Two missing girls. A car that suddenly disappears.

Why didn’t anyone notice? The original investigating officer, DI Bell, is still alive? ’

Gill swallows. She seems to struggle to find the words she wants to use. ‘I’ll… I’ll look into it.’

I nod.

Gill stands up. She pushes her chair neatly under the table. ‘People think I’m a ball-busting monster. I’m not. I’m doing an impossible job with impossible odds.’

I look up at her. ‘No. You’re doing an admirable job with complete tossers in charge who have no idea of the reality of life in twenty-first-century Britain.

They may hold the purse strings, but don’t let a title they lied, cheated and paid to get scare you.

You have more knowledge and respect than they’ll ever have. ’

Gill holds out her hand. I don’t know why I’m finding physical contact so difficult lately, even something as simple as a handshake. I reluctantly comply.

‘Thank you,’ Gill says.

‘You’re welcome.’

Gill leaves the restaurant. When she reaches the bottom of the steps, she turns back and looks up at me, gives me a wink and a nod of the head. I return the gesture.

‘You almost sounded like a DCI then,’ Sally says, entering the restaurant from the kitchen.

‘Were you eavesdropping?’

‘Of course. You miss the job, don’t you?’

‘No. Not in the slightest.’

‘Can you smell that? I think Philip must have left something burning on the stove,’ Sally says, sniffing dramatically.

‘I can’t smell anything.’

‘Oh, no, wait. It’s just your pants that are on fire,’ Sally grins.

Sally leaves, chuckling to herself. I shake my head at her attempt at levity and turn back to the window and the police activity taking place right in front of me.

I go to the bar, lean over, and grab the phone.

I’d written the number of Cumbria Today on a Post-It which is crumpled when I fish it out of my pocket.

‘Tania Pritchard, Cumbria Today , good afternoon,’ Tania answers in what is clearly a faux posh telephone voice.

‘Tania, it’s Matilda. I’m calling you from the restaurant.’

‘Oh, yes, so you are. I can see you.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. I’m right outside. Turn to your left. Sorry, your right, and you’ll see a shitty little Punto in baby-sick yellow.’

I turn and see the journalist standing next to her car. I smile and give a brief wave.

‘I’d wave back but I don’t want to draw attention,’ Tania says. ‘You never know where this is going to lead.’

‘I’ve just had Inspector Forsyth here to see me.’

‘Yes. I saw her leave. Was it nice to see her, to see her, nice?’ she asks, referring to the famous catchphrase of entertainer Bruce Forsyth.

‘I wouldn’t go that far. She did tell me whose car it is at the bottom of the lake.’

‘Travis Montgomery’s.’

‘You already knew?’

‘I have my sources.’

‘What was Travis’s alibi again for when the Pemberton girls went missing?’ I ask.

‘He didn’t have one. Did Gill tell you anything about how they found the car at the bottom of the lake?’

‘A tree crashed into the lake last night during the storm. I was out swimming this morning. I found the registration plate and took it into the police station. Police came out and have found some items they believe belong to young children.’

‘Jesus Christ! Celia and Jennifer are in that car?’

‘We’ll find out when it’s brought up. How did you get on with trying to find Travis? Gill said he’s not on the electoral register.’

‘I can’t find him anywhere. I’ve found a few Montgomerys in Liverpool.

I’m going to do some phoning around. By the way, I was reading my notes about Jack Pemberton working at Dudgeons on the day of the twins’ kidnapping and made a few calls to double-check.

Dudgeons was closed down all that week due to industrial action. ’

‘Who was striking?’

‘All the production staff.’

‘Was Jack on the production line?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was there a picket line outside the factory?’

‘Yes. But we don’t know if he was there or not. Five hundred people were striking. Would they have noticed if he slipped away?’

‘Possibly not,’ I say. I look away across the car park and see Alison Pemberton walk towards the woods with her head down. I immediately feel sorry for the young PC. Whatever is discovered has the potential to destroy everything she believes in.

‘Fancy a drive out to Seascale to talk to the teacher with an unhealthy interest in young boys?’

‘It shows how sad my life has become that this will end up being the highlight of my day. I’ll change my shoes and be right down.’

‘Meet me at the top of the road. I’m already getting dirty looks from Brucie. I don’t need to give her more reasons to hate me.’

‘Nice to know police hating journalists isn’t just a Sheffield thing. See you soon.’

‘If, on your way out, a couple of muffins happen to fall into your bag, I’ll help you dispose of the evidence.’

I end the call and smile. Tania is the refreshing change I need right now.