Page 46 of Worse Than Murder

‘You might need to put in a few lights. I like to see what I’m eating.’

‘Use your imagination, Mat. It could be so romantic,’ he enthuses.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Matilda, are you down there?’ Sally shouts from above.

‘Yes.’

‘There’s someone here to see you.’

I roll my eyes. Who the bloody hell wants me now? I head for the stairs. ‘I’m coming up.’

I stop in my tracks when I see who my visitor is. The police inspector who, not half an hour ago, was shooting me a daggered look is standing in the doorway. Her face is unreadable, but her body language is oozing resentment.

‘DCI Darke,’ she says. It’s an attempt at a greeting, but she almost spits my own name at me.

‘Just Matilda,’ I correct her.

She nods. ‘Inspector Gillian Forsyth. Gill. Can we have a chat?’

I raise an eyebrow. A chat suggests a friendly exchange over a cup of tea and a Mr Kipling. Gill’s pursed white lips and intense stare suggest she’d like to be throttling me right now.

‘About?’

‘You came into my station this morning with a registration plate you found.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Yet you did a runner.’

‘Again, correct.’ I see no reason why I should lie.

‘Any reason why?’

‘Shall we sit down?’ I point to the tables and chairs.

We head for the same table I had been sat at with Lynne, pull out the chairs and sit. I make a point of not looking out of the window at the police activity still going on in the car park.

‘Judging by the daggered look you gave me when you first came in, I’m guessing you’ve looked me up.’ Gill is about to say something, but I continue talking. ‘I’m not here to take over. I’m not here to tread on any toes. I’m here simply because Sally and Philip invited me. I’ve been…’ I pause and compose myself. ‘I’ve suffered a family bereavement and I’m here to recover. It’s as simple as that.’

Gill nods. Her face has softened. ‘You’re right. I have looked you up. I’ve read about what’s happened to you over in Sheffield. I’m incredibly sorry for your loss. We got off to a bad start without even meeting each other, didn’t we?’ She tries to smile but it doesn’t quite work. ‘I heard about you coming here a couple of weeks ago. I’m afraid I let the gossip and mystery surrounding you cloud my judgment.’

‘Mystery?’

‘The infamous DCI Darke in the middle of a serial killer investigation suddenly ups and leaves her post to visit the Lake District. I understand you’re grieving, but something was eating away at the back of my mind that you might be here to take over. We’ve had the threat of station closures and restructuring over our heads since before the pandemic.’

‘I see. I’m here because I need a break. I’ve handled some disturbing cases in recent years, and it’s taken its toll on me.’

‘I understand. I’m sorry.’

‘That’s okay. So…?’ I leave the question hanging. I want to know why Gill is here.

Gill clears her throat. ‘I’ve been in the job for fifteen years and I’ve never left Cumbria apart from when I’ve gone on holiday. The most difficult case I’ve handled is when a child went missing three years ago and he turned up four hours later. Right now, I have a car at the bottom of the lake whose owner left here almost thirty years ago. Without my imagination running away from me, the only significant case going back that far is the disappearance of Celia and Jennifer Pemberton. If I call up Kendal and tell them I’ve no idea what to do, I’ll be adding fuel to the fire that High Chapel can be closed down.’

‘So, you want my help?’

Gill looks uncomfortable. ‘I cannot begin to imagine what’s going through your head right now. The last thing I want to do is upset you or interfere with you trying to come to terms with everything, but the people of High Chapel need this station to remain open. All I’m asking is for you to point me in the right direction.’