Page 38 of Worse Than Murder (DCI Matilda Darke Thriller #13)

I have to pass the restaurant to get to the offices of Cumbria Today , so I stop off. When I pull up outside the newspaper, Tania is parking in her spot directly opposite. I hold up a white box I’ve loaded with goodies.

‘Ooh, excellent timing,’ Tania says with a smile.

‘You have information?’

‘No. I’ve just been out buying tea bags,’ she says holding up the box.

Teas made, me and Tania sit at one of the spare desks. The cardboard box has been pulled open to reveal slices of tart and cheesecake, and muffins. Tania’s eyes are out on stalks as she tries to choose one.

‘Between the cigarettes, the naughty calories and the bottle of wine I drink a night, I’m surprised I’m not dead already,’ she says as she plumps for lemon and lime cheesecake with coconut shavings.

‘You live alone?’

‘Completely. I’m not even a crazy cat lady.’ She scoops up a forkful of dessert and her eyes roll back. ‘And with delicious things like this in the world, who needs men?’

I smile. I think of Odell. I’m being unfair to him. Our relationship had just been getting off the ground when I ran. I wonder if he’s waiting for me or has decided to move on. I wouldn’t blame him.

‘You looked all sad there for a moment,’ Tania says.

‘Just thinking about things. What might have been.’

‘I’ve had a few of those in my time. My mother was ill for years.

I had to take care of her while working full-time.

Suddenly, ten years go by and you haven’t shifted, yet you’re ten years older.

When my mother died, I thought I’d be able to start living, maybe find myself a husband and settle down, but I wasn’t a young twenty-something anymore.

I’d also built a veneer around me. People think I’m hard as nails. ’

‘But you’re not.’

‘Nobody is. We’re all the same. We all have emotions and feelings. People don’t realise that. They judge you on what they see, and I’m a hard-faced feminist journalist who doesn’t need a man in her life to be happy.’

‘And in reality?’

‘I don’t need a man. That doesn’t mean to say I don’t want one. It’s no fun spending your days alone in this shitty office and going home to a cold and empty house. Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to the sob story of my tragic life. I’m guessing you have information.’

I tell her all about Lynne changing her police statement and her affair with Travis.

‘Lynne and Travis?’ Tania’s face takes on a look as if she’s tasting something rancid. ‘I’d heard rumours, but now that it’s confirmed, it… I don’t know. I find it a bit disgusting.’

‘Why?’

‘Because… well, I’m not being nasty to Lynne or anything, but she’s not exactly a raving beauty, is she?

Even thirty years ago she was no looker.

And Travis, well, he could have been posing on the box of Calvin Klein underpants.

Talk about a mismatched pair. I wonder who came on to who…

’ She ponders this for a moment then tries to shake the thought from her head.

‘Actually, no, I don’t want to know.’ She shudders.

‘Lynne and Iain seem suited.’

‘Oh, yes. They’re much more evenly matched. I’m pretty sure Lynne was seeing Iain first, then left him for Jack.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. They weren’t together long. When they were younger, Iain had a different woman every weekend. He was a very handsome bloke. Tall, rugged, manly, ooh…’ She shivers again.

‘It sounds like you fancied him yourself.’

‘Not really. Just a filthy fantasy about being taken roughly in a barn by a sweaty manly farmer. I think I’ve been reading too many trashy romances.

Either that or I need to stop scrolling through PornHub.

It’s strange, isn’t it? You never know who you’re going to end up with.

Lynne and Iain dated for a few weeks, split up, Lynne married Iain’s brother, then they end up together decades later. It was obviously meant to be.’

‘Hmm.’ I think about me and James. I’d thought we were meant to be, but I was robbed of him after less than ten years of marriage. It wasn’t fair. Lynne had married who she assumed was her first love, but was she happy?

What does happiness fucking mean anyway?

‘Do you think Iain knew about the affair between Lynne and Travis?’ I ask. I really should stop my mind going off on a tangent.

‘I’m not sure. Why?’

‘Well, Lynne came to see me in the restaurant and told me all about Jack admitting to abusing the twins. I did tell you about that, didn’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sorry, my mind is all over the place at the moment. Anyway, I’ve just been to see Iain and Lynne, and Iain clearly knows she told me about the abuse, but she didn’t mention she’d had an affair with Travis when that came up. I’m guessing Iain doesn’t know about it.’

‘It doesn’t have anything to do with him though. She was married to Jack at the time. Not Iain. When you were married, did your husband know about all your exes?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘There you go, then,’ Tania says, reaching for a chocolate caramel muffin.

‘So, Lynne and Travis have an alibi for when the twins were taken. Jack doesn’t. Iain does. I’d like to speak to Inspector Lionel Bell.’

‘Why?’

‘I get the feeling there’s more going on with the original investigation than Lynne knows about. They mentioned something about Lionel stealing some money, yet I didn’t see any of that mentioned when I was looking online the other night.’

‘No. You wouldn’t,’ Tania says, a firmness in her voice.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve known Lionel for as long as I can remember. I don’t believe he did steal that money, so I refused to write about it.’

‘What happened?’

‘Gideon Oliver was the same rank as Lionel Bell. They worked well together. Gideon finds out he’s got cancer and leaves work.

The village turns out in force and raises thousands for him so he can pay his mortgage and bills.

We did all sorts for him. Next thing, Gideon finds out that the cancer has spread like wildfire.

He’s dead within a week, bless him. He was only forty-one.

Anyway, we’d raised all this money, and nobody knew what to do with it.

I don’t know how the rumour got out, but the whole village is talking about Lionel having it in his bank account. ’

‘Did he admit it?’

‘Well, he admitted it was there because it was, but he was clueless to how it got there.’

‘He would say that, though, wouldn’t he?’

Tania composes herself. ‘He turned up on my doorstep one night in floods of tears. He swore on his wife’s life that he did not take that money. I believed him.’

‘Yet he still resigned from the force.’

‘He had no choice. Mud sticks, especially around here.’

‘Who had the money in the first place, before it ended up in Lionel’s bank account?’

‘It was held in an account the newspaper opened to collect all the donations and everything we raised.’

‘So, you had access to the bank account?’

‘Not just me: anyone who worked on the paper. It was a bank book back in those days. We didn’t have cards and PINs. Anyone could have accessed the money if they had the bank book. Look, Matilda, Lionel is a good man. I believed him. I still do.’

I nod. ‘I think something is happening, here. I think this goes right back to when the twins went missing. For thirty years, someone has been trying to control this narrative to hide the truth; and with the car, and possibly the twins, being found, they’re worried it’s all going to come crashing down around them. ’

‘Who?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’

‘Who are your suspects?’

‘Everyone living in this village old enough to commit murder back in 1992.’

‘I hope you’re not including me in that,’ Tania says with a smile.

I don’t say anything. I can’t. But if there’s one thing worse than a journalist printing gossip and innuendo, it’s a journalist who refuses to.