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.So he phoned Marcus instead.“Any news on Gabe Marsh?”“Not yet, sir.I’ve tried all his numbers again this morning, but no one knows where he is.”“What about the missing boy? Any luck?”“If he’s still alive he’s not working or claiming benefit.And I’ve pulled the missing person report.Shall I leave it on your desk with the financial reports? The other two just arrived.”Shand checked his watch.Lunch time.And he still hadn’t eaten since last night.“Anything interesting in the reports?”“Nothing in the Benson file, but the Montacutes have a large overdraft.£50,000.”“Bring everything with you.We’ll meet up for lunch at…” The name of the pub he’d eaten at the day before deserted him.He put his hand over the phone and turned to Taylor.“What’s the name of the pub in Tarrant Marshall?”“The Plough.”“The Plough, Tarrant Marshall.As soon as you can.”~They found a quiet corner in the lounge bar of the Plough and waited for Marcus.After the excesses of the night before, Shand kept away from alcohol and sipped at a glass of orange juice instead.When Marcus arrived they ordered food and sifted through the files.The Montacutes had had an overdraft for a year during which time their balance had fluctuated wildly.The nature of farming, explained Taylor.“Only the milk provides a regular income, everything else comes in lumps.Crop harvest, subsidy payments.The outgoings can be the same.A big farm like that could easily spend fifty grand on one piece of kit.”But even given that, it wasn’t hard to see that Sixpenny Barton was not doing as well.Two years ago the Montacutes had been comfortably off.Now they had a farm that was losing money and a personal wealth cut in half.Which might give them a motive for killing Annabel, but why bury Helena?“Could the Montacutes be behind the bank robbery as well?” suggested Marcus.“They need the money.”“Who would the Brigadess know from the East End of London?” asked Taylor.“For George Benson to keep quiet this long, someone has got to have one hell of a hold over him.Something that would continue even if they were arrested.Like other gang members ready to exact revenge.I don’t see the Brigadess running a gang.”Neither did Shand.“What about this missing boy?” he asked, picking up the missing person report.“Does anyone really believe it has any bearing on this case?”Marcus looked hesitant.He opened his mouth to speak, then swiftly looked down and started tapping his feet.“What do you think, Marcus?” asked Shand.“This is a brainstorming session so all contributions welcome.”The food arrived and Marcus paused while the plates were handed around.“I think it has possibilities, sir,” said Marcus.“There’s a strong ritualistic element to all these crimes.The use of the stone circle, the placing of a dead body on top of a live one.We’ve all tried to find a connection between Annabel and Helena, but what if there isn’t one?”He spoke more freely, growing in confidence.“What if the only connection is one of opportunity? That Annabel and Helena were two women alone in their homes that night.It could have been anyone.”“But what about the phone call from the green?”“One of Annabel’s friends.Or someone who could impersonate them.”Shand wasn’t convinced.“What about the missing boy? If you have him down as the first murder, where’s his body? It’s a different MO.Serial killers don’t change MOs.”“This one might.Or it’s a sect, or … or maybe he was buried alive, but never found.So this time the killer puts another body on top as a marker.”“To make sure his handiwork was discovered,” said Shand, staring into the distance.He could see the twisted logic.A killer fixated on live burials and publicity.“But where would he bury the missing boy?”A woman’s voice answered.“I think I can help you there, chief inspector.I saw them bury the body.”CHAPTER THIRTY-THREEShand’s eyes focussed on a woman in her late twenties, curly blonde hair and enormous earrings that resembled a pair of wind chimes.In one movement she’d pulled up a chair from an adjoining table and sat down.“Got to eat first,” she said breathlessly.“I’m starving.D’you mind if I join you?”“Who.”Shand’s voice trailed off as the woman swivelled in her chair and waved at a passing waitress [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]