Cold Blood by Jane Heafield (great books to read txt) 📕

‘What they done?’

‘You mean a crime? Nothing. Like I said, I know them. Got a message to pass on. So, any clue?’

‘I heard they were hanging around. That’s about it. Never saw them. I think they left.’

Jenny gave him his food and started to ring it in the till, but Lucas slapped Bennet’s arm, said, ‘Good to see you again,’ and left. Quick. No payment for the sandwiches.

‘Help ya, love?’

Bennet turned back to Sandwich Jenny. ‘Yeah, four sandwiches if they’re free, I guess.’

‘Oh that, no, that’s… they’re prepaid.’ She cancelled the unpaid items off the till and gave him a smile. This close, he could see that her deep tan and heavy make-up were camouflage. She was closer to forty than twenty. He ordered a cheese cob and she set to work on it.

He glanced out of the window and was surprised to see Lucas staring at him. The kid turned and left the moment he was spotted.

‘You want ketchup on this, love?’

Ketchup on cheese? ‘No.’

Bennet watched Lucas scuttle across the green, fast. The young man had become uncomfortable the moment he knew he was in the presence of a police officer. Might be worth tossing his name into the Police National Computer to see if he had a record. Or paying the car showroom a visit, just in case it was a mammoth chop shop.

‘Visiting someone, love?’

She obviously hadn’t overheard his conversation with Lucas. ‘I’m here looking for a film crew. Four of them, I think. At least one was a woman, a former resident here called Lorraine Cross. Used to be Lorraine Taylor. Before your time though.’

Jenny didn’t look up from the cheese she was cutting. ‘I don’t recall. I just mind my shop and don’t catch much news.’

Interesting. She didn’t seem the least bit interested in why a film crew would visit this little backwater. So he told her: missing girl, ten years ago.

‘Oh, I know, terrible thing,’ she said, buttering his cob. Still no eye contact. ‘Before my time, like you say.’

‘You didn’t see the crew? They didn’t come in to get an interview or anything?’

‘No, they didn’t come in here. And they wouldn’t get much luck. What that poor woman went through. She deserves peace and quiet, not to have that terrible day dragged up again.’

‘The mother? Is that who you mean?’

‘Yes. We look after her. It’s only right. You should stay away from her. She won’t want to do any interviews.’

‘Do you think the film crew might have contacted her? Where does she live?’

Behind him, a voice said, ‘I wouldn’t worry about where she lives, pal. Your people have been and gone. That’s tourists for ya.’

Liam saw a skinny man in a thick woollen jumper and old jeans, sitting at a corner table with a tea and a newspaper and a dog curled under his chair. His was the only seat at that table, as if he owned it. He looked like he belonged right there, like a piece of the décor. He even had his own cup, given the tatty state of it, and was probably there come early morning or late evening, Christmas or Easter, rain or shine.

Liam took his wrapped cheese sandwich to the man’s table. There were no free chairs within reach and he wasn’t going to carry one across the room, so he squatted opposite the old guy.

‘You remember them? The film crew? They were here.’

‘Yep. Know all the Lopers in town, if you get my meaning. Upped and offed. You should do the same.’

Hallelujah. Lopers, that was the nickname for strangers that had eluded him. Short for interlopers, probably. ‘By upped and offed, you mean they left?’

‘Been and gone. Like the woman there said, that lass lost her kid and she needs to be left alone. We don’t like reporters here and we don’t want your sort hassling her.’

‘Well, I’m not here to hassle her. And I’m not part of a film crew or a reporter. I’m a police officer.’

The old man looked surprised. ‘I don’t know anything about your film crew. Except they were Lopers sticking their noses into business they have no mind to. I mind my business. Sure you’re not here about that missing person all those years ago? I was home with the wife when it happened. That girl will be married to some rich bloke in Spain or something by now. But you coppers never did believe she ran off. It’s not respectful to come asking questions about that out of the blue.’

A strange claim. ‘I’m not here about the missing girl. I’m South Yorkshire Police, not Derbyshire. My interest is just the film crew, about an entirely different matter. They came here on Sunday, right?’

Dog Man picked up a slice of Lampton rock from the saucer and popped it into his mouth. He sipped his tea, which had been sitting so long it had a membrane on the surface. He had to wipe the thin skin off his lips. ‘So I heard. Been and gone. Left Monday. Probably because they got no help. Like I said, tricky business, that missing person, and that poor lass’s mother deserves her peace and quiet. We look after our own here.’

A quick glance round told Bennet many eyes had gone back to their business. But not all. At one table, a set of eyes looked quickly away when he met them; at another, someone caught staring made no such cheap move and gave Liam a nod instead.

‘Why are the police after them? Criminals?’ Dog Man said. Liam turned his attention back to the man and lowered his voice.

‘It’s not actually police business. More a personal thing. I knew one of them. How did you know they were a film crew? Did you meet them? Did they say?’

‘They came into the Lion Sunday night. Mouthy sorts, them out-of-towners. They must have said they were filmers, or someone else blabbed it. Can’t remember how I know. But that can happen. Can’t remember how I know JFK