Page 40 of Worse Than Murder (DCI Matilda Darke Thriller #13)

T ania drives her Fiat Punto along End Lane.

The atmosphere in the car is tense. I’m glaring out of the side window.

There’s a smattering of houses dotted about, each with a lengthy driveway and high privet hedges hiding them from the road.

It’s called End Lane simply because it’s the final road of High Chapel.

Turn left at the end and open countryside is revealed all the way to Kendal. Tania pulls up beside an oak tree.

‘Which house does Lionel live in?’ I ask, looking around, trying to get a glimpse of the properties hidden by nature.

‘It’s the very last one down there.’ She points.

‘Why have we parked here?’

‘I don’t want Lionel to see us arrive. We don’t speak much now. In fact, Lionel doesn’t speak to anyone much now, apart from his daughter and granddaughter. People around here have long memories, and according to them, he stole Gideon Oliver’s money.’

‘Haven’t you tried to put them straight?’

‘I believed Lionel,’ she says, turning to me. ‘I couldn’t prove it, though. Neither could he. I believed him because I knew him.’

‘But surely the people of High Chapel knew him, too.’

‘Yes. But people are quick to condemn.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘I… I just didn’t, that’s all,’ she says, climbing out of the car.

I follow. The temperature is on the rise again.

There is the merest hint of a breeze, but it doesn’t alter the fact it’s an intensely hot day.

I dig out a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of my jeans and put them.

Tania is already far up the road, heading for the final house of End Lane, a picturesque bungalow. I have to trot to catch up to her.

‘You loved him, didn’t you?’ I ask.

‘What?’

‘Lionel. You fell in love with him.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ she says, without looking back.

‘Why is it? You said, not an hour ago, that people see you as a hard-faced journalist but you’re not, you have emotions the same as everyone else. Your words, Tania. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love. Nobody is going to judge you. We all do it.’

Tania stops at the entrance to Lionel’s driveway. When she turns, I see tears in her eyes.

‘Yes. I loved him. I told him so, too. This was long after his Doreen had died.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He said he couldn’t love me as he still loved his wife.

I knew then there would be no future in it for us.

I couldn’t compete with a dead woman. We kept seeing each other.

I think he saw me as a comfort shag while he was going through so much crap.

I was punishing myself by allowing myself to fall deeper and deeper in love with him. Stupid, right?’

I place a comforting hand on Tania’s arm. It feels strange to be offering someone comfort when I’m such a complete basket case. I quickly remove my hand.

‘When you and I started out in our jobs, they were male-dominated, right?’ Tania begins.

‘We had to prove we were as good as the men, if not better. In order to do that, we poisoned ourselves, sacrificed our emotions. We didn’t cry over a crime scene or a dark story, because we knew the men would laugh and tell us our hormones were getting in the way.

Now look at us: we can’t even comfort each other because we’ve forgotten how. ’

She turns and heads up the drive, leaving me at the bottom, musing on her words.

She’s right.

* * *

Lionel Bell’s bungalow is neat and tidy. There’s fragrances of furniture polish and air freshener.

‘Nice to see you again, Lionel,’ Tania says by way of a greeting.

He doesn’t say anything back. He steps to one side and allows us to enter.

We stand in the hallway while Lionel closes the door.

I look around me at the bright space. I take in the framed artwork on the walls, all landscapes, all local, and ones I recognise from my many runs through the hills and valleys.

It’s neutrally decorated in warm creams and beige, though the carpet is looking a tad threadbare.

Lionel is dressed in similar colours to his home. He’s wearing beige chinos, a white polo shirt and a loose-fitting cream cardigan over the top. He leads us into the living room which is spacious and dominated by a huge picture window giving a view of the entire village.

‘Wow,’ I marvel.

‘Sorry,’ Tania jumps in. ‘Lionel, this is Matilda…’

‘I know. Nice to meet you again.’

I quickly turn to look at him. ‘Again?’ The penny drops. ‘Oh, you’re the man in the coffee shop.’

‘That was me. How are you feeling now?’

I can’t answer that. ‘I’m… better, thanks.’

‘You’ve met?’ Tania asks.

‘I was in the tearoom and looked over and there she was, bawling her eyes out. Understandable given what you’ve been through lately. I gave you some words of advice. I hope you’re taking them on board.’

‘I’m not sure. I’m trying to.’

‘What did you say to her?’ Tania asks him.

‘I told her that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’

Tania quickly turns away and dabs her eyes.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘That was what I told him when he was forced to quit the police force.’

‘Did it make you stronger?’ I ask him.

‘It made me harder. I’m not sure if that’s the same thing. Shall we sit down?’

We sit on a three-seat sofa. Lionel is about to sit on a matching armchair when he jumps back up.

‘Tea? Coffee? I’ve got a bottle of wine open, and I think there’s some gin somewhere. I assume neither of us are on duty,’ he says with a smile.

‘I’d love a coffee,’ I say.

‘Me too,’ Tania echoes.

‘Two coffees coming up.’ He leaves the room for the kitchen.

I look around at the living room. More pictures on the walls, this time mostly photographs.

I see one of a very young Gill Forsyth in uniform, back straight, head high, proud as punch on what, I assume, is her first day in the force.

There are plenty of a young girl, starting as a baby and growing up into a beautiful young woman.

‘That’s Gill’s daughter, Lauren,’ Tania says, her voice low.

‘Where’s the father?’

‘There isn’t one.’

I raise an eyebrow.

‘Lauren is the product of a turkey baster.’

‘Oh.’

‘Gill wanted a child but didn’t want a husband.’

‘What did Lionel make of that?’

‘He didn’t mind. He was there with her in the delivery room when she gave birth. He dotes on Lauren.’

I smile. ‘I can see why you fell for him. You can tell he was a handsome man when he was younger. He’s got a twinkle in his eye.’

Tania swallows hard and looks away.

‘You still like him, don’t you?’

‘I haven’t seen him for so long. I put a distance between us. I had to. Seeing him again, it’s brought it all back.’

‘I could have come here on my own.’

Tania quickly turns to look at me. ‘And have you steal my man? I don’t think so, bitch,’ she says, playfully.

Using humour as a defence mechanism. That sounds familiar. I laugh anyway. It’s a strange sound to my ears. It’s been a long time since I let out a genuine laugh.

‘What’s funny?’ Lionel asks, entering the room carrying a wooden tray with three mugs.

‘Oh. Nothing. Just something Matilda said,’ Tania says.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’ I clear my throat. ‘Lionel, Alison Pemberton has asked me to help her find out what happened to her sisters. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?’

‘I’m not sure how much help I’ll be able to be,’ he says, taking his coffee from the tray and sitting in his armchair. ‘Help yourself to milk and sugar. It was a long time ago and, although it was a massive event and not exactly something I’m going to forget, my mind isn’t what it used to be.’

‘Come off it, Lionel, you’re as sharp as ever,’ Tania says.

‘It’s been a while since we’ve met, Tania. Things change.’

Tania’s smile falters. ‘Are you all right?’

‘What did you want to ask me?’ Lionel turns to me, ignoring Tania’s question.

I look from Lionel to Tania and back again. I can see there is unfinished business between the two of them. Tania is clearly still holding a flame for Lionel. Does he feel the same? Are they both living with a lifetime of regrets?

‘Jack Pemberton. The sightings of him over the years. What do you think?’

‘The odd sighting you can put down to someone having a likeness of Jack, but I know Alison has a file full of them. You can’t argue with them, can you?’

‘If he is still alive, why do you think he faked his own death?’

‘There’s only one explanation, isn’t there? He killed his daughters.’

Everyone seems to be quick to condemn Jack as a guilty man. Nobody has suggested he might have faked his death simply because of his depression, because he couldn’t cope with losing two of his children. Why are people so easily prepared to think the worst of others?

‘Why would he do that?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘I’m guessing you’ve heard about Travis Montgomery’s car being found at the bottom of the lake.’ He nods. ‘It must have, I assume, gone missing around the time the girls were taken yet was never reported missing.’

‘Yes. No. You’re right. No, it wasn’t reported missing.’

‘When the girls did go missing and suddenly there’s Travis without a car, what did you think?’

Lionel blows out his cheeks. ‘I don’t recall, I’m sorry. I was very preoccupied with finding the girls. It was the biggest case I’ve ever had to deal with. I didn’t give the car much thought.’

‘But you knew it was missing?’

‘No.’

‘Did you know Travis has been listed as a missing person since December 1992?’

‘Yes.’

Lionel isn’t forthcoming with his answers, and I have the sneaky suspicion he’s going to start playing the elderly card if I ask him something he doesn’t like the sound of.

I study him. He’s sitting, straight-backed in his armchair, feet planted firmly on the floor, hands wrapped around his coffee mug. His hands are holding it just a little too tightly for my liking. His knuckles are almost white.

I lean forward. ‘Not long after Jack disappeared in the storm, you were forced to leave the police. It was believed you’d embezzled charity money. But you didn’t, did you?’

Lionel steals a glance to Tania before turning back to me.

‘No. I didn’t.’

‘But you couldn’t prove it?’

‘No.’

‘Do you know who did put the money in your bank account?’

‘No.’

Again, his answer came too quickly. He’s lying.

‘Who do you suspect it was?’

He takes a sharp breath and shakes his head. ‘I really have no idea.’

Another lie.

Lionel looks, once again, to Tania.

From my point of view, I can only see the back of Tania’s head as she’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, mug in hand, looking to Lionel. Is she communicating with him, silently, via facial expressions, mouthing words to him, hoping I can’t see what’s going on?

‘Did you know about the car at the bottom of the lake?’ I ask.

‘No. Of course, not,’ he answers. This time, I believe him.

‘Tania, did you?’

‘What?’ She turns to me sharply. ‘No. Why would I?’

I take a deep breath. Inside, I’m screaming.

I know I’m being lied to, but I don’t know what they’re lying about.

I reach forward for my coffee cup and take a sip to delay asking my next question.

I need my anger to simmer down. It’s not easy though.

My emotions are so close to the surface, it won’t take much for them to be revealed.

I feel sorry for whoever is in the vicinity when it happens.

The coffee tastes bitter in my mouth. I have no idea what brand of coffee Lionel uses, but it has nothing to do with that. It’s the bile in my throat ruining my pleasure of taste.

‘Lynne Pemberton came to see me the other day,’ I begin. ‘She told me that Jack admitted to Iain that he had abused Celia and Jennifer and murdered them. He’d had some kind of a black-out and couldn’t remember what he’d done with the bodies.’

I watch Lionel as I say this. His facial expression doesn’t change once. He already knows. I suspect Tania has told him. They may not have met in recent years, but I’m guessing they keep in touch over the phone.

‘You don’t look shocked,’ I add.

‘Are you shocked by anything you see, after all your time on the force?’ he asks.

My mind goes back to when I walked into my mother’s house and saw the bodies of my teenage nephews and my mum, dead.

‘Of course.’ My voice is quivering with emotion. ‘I have to be shocked by what I see. That’s how I know I’m still alive.’ I lean forward and place my cup back on the tray. I stand up. ‘I think I’m being lied to.’

‘Who by?’ Tania asks.

‘You. Lionel. I don’t know. Neither of you is reacting to the news that Jack sexually abused and murdered his daughters how you should be doing.

Neither of you seems to care that Travis Montgomery is missing for whatever reason.

And I think you did know about his car being missing, Lionel.

You’re both happy for all of these questions to go unanswered, and I don’t know why. ’

‘Matilda…’ Tania begins.

I don’t allow her to interrupt. ‘I think you know exactly who put that money in your bank account, Lionel. I think it was put there for you to be blackmailed for some reason. I think you know what’s going on but you’re too scared to say anything.

’ I turn to Tania. ‘I’ll find my own way back to the restaurant. ’

* * *

Tania and Lionel remain in silence until the front door slams closed behind Matilda. From where Lionel is sitting on the armchair, he can see out onto the length of End Lane and watches as Matilda marches down the incline.

‘I told you she was good,’ Tania eventually says.

‘You did. I didn’t realise how good.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘What I’ve been doing for the past thirty years. I’ll endure.’

‘You can tell me who put the money in your account. I won’t judge you for keeping it secret.’

He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head.

‘You’re protecting Gill and Lauren; I can understand that. But with Matilda digging, you’re not going to be able to keep this a secret for much longer, Lionel. She won’t give up.’

‘Could you leave, please, Tania?’

‘What? Why?’

‘I need to make a phone call.’

‘Who to?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Lionel, it does. You’ve gone pale. What’s happening?’

‘Look, Tania, please, just leave,’ he says, raising his voice.

‘What the hell have you got yourself mixed up in, Lionel? What exactly do you know about the Pemberton twins?’

‘Tania, I’ve asked you nicely to leave. Don’t make me get angry.’

Tania sits back and looks at her former lover. She suddenly realises she doesn’t know who Lionel Bell is anymore.