A Body in the Lakes by Graham Smith (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

On glorious summer days like this, the area was populated in frequent regularity by hikers, fishers and ramblers, and the fields at the back would be visited by farmers checking their stock. Even on the days where the weather turned nastier, the farmer would still come by, and there were many fishermen who’d turn out regardless of rain and wind.

All in all, this area would have a certain amount of daytime traffic. That much was a given. But once the sun went down, especially in winter, it would be deserted, derelict of life.

As she turned and set back towards her car, Beth had a sheen of perspiration on her forehead and her shoes were coated in a film of dust from the bridleway. She was halfway back to her car when her phone beeped. She checked her messages and saw that Louise Jones had been contacted and an appointment to speak to her had been set up. DS Thompson was also on his way there to sit in on the interview.

Although decent enough, Thompson was an impatient man who hated to be kept waiting.

Tough. Before she headed back, Beth ducked into the hotel and spent a few minutes questioning the proprietor.

Her suspicions were right, the hotel shut down every January and had done for the last ten years.

Beth returned to her car, gunned its engine and sent a spray of gravel from her tyres as she rushed to get to Keswick before the DS had a good reason to grumble at her.

Her little car grunted and strained as she navigated her way along Newland’s Pass. The narrow road wasn’t designed for fast driving and after the first time she entered a corner that little bit too fast, Beth eased off the throttle and accepted that being late was better than not getting to her destination.

Newlands Pass ran from Buttermere to Braithwaite and its route saw it winding its way between Robinson and Grassmoor Fells. The scenery was breathtaking as Beth travelled along the mountain pass. At one point there was only a foot-high mound of earth running alongside the road between the tarmac and a steep slope than fell hundreds of feet to the valley floor, and there was a hairpin bend beside a farm where the road steepened to a gradient that was almost three in one.

The route was both desolate and beautiful, although Beth was glad she was making the journey under a blazing summer sun rather than during a downpour. Winter frosts would make the road impassable to those without four-wheel drive, and considering some of the steep drops, Beth knew she’d always take the long way round rather than try and navigate Newlands Pass in treacherous conditions.

Thirty-Five

The appearance of the woman who opened the door didn’t surprise Beth in the slightest. Like Eleanor Dereham, she was stylish and well bred. This much Beth could tell by the clothes she wore, the way she carried her head and the quiet confidence she exuded. That she lived in a house with panoramic views over Derwentwater didn’t do anything to alter Beth’s opinion.

Not one thing about Louise Jones suggested concern at being questioned by a couple of detectives. Rather than worry, there was a wry amusement on her face.

Beth introduced herself and Thompson then explained to Louise they wanted to ask her a few questions.

‘Fine, come on in.’ As they were led to the kitchen, Beth couldn’t help but notice that the house was furnished in the same tasteful way the woman had dressed herself.

Once they were seated and the offer of a cuppa declined, Louise sat opposite them.

‘Would you care to tell me what this is all about, please?’ A heavily be-ringed hand tucked a stray wisp of mahogany hair behind her ear. ‘The officer who arranged this meeting was rather vague as to why you wanted to speak to me.’

‘It’s about something that happened last year.’

Compared to Louise’s soft voice, Thompson’s tone was gruff and unfriendly. He’d nipped Beth’s ear about having to wait ten minutes for her, and when she’d explained where she’d been he’d complained about her going off on her own.

Rather than have Louise drag the information from Thompson, Beth followed up from the DS’s statement quickly.

‘You attended a function last year. You stayed at the Wall Park Hotel in Workington.’

‘That’s right.’ A sly look crossed Louise’s face. ‘Nice hotel. Manager was a bit up himself though. I’m guessing it’s not him you’re asking about. Would you care to explain what you want to know?’

‘Of course, silly of me.’ This wasn’t the first time Beth had played the airhead to fool someone, and she wasn’t averse to using the tactic if it gave her an advantage. ‘We have a few questions we’d like to ask you about events that took place that evening.’

Louise interlocked her fingers and rested them on her stomach. The gesture was one body-language experts would interpret as being closed, but the way Louise carried herself suggested otherwise. ‘Ask away. I have nothing to hide.’

‘Would I be right in stating that you had a one-night stand with Derek Forster after a function in Workington last December?’

‘You would.’

Beth heard Thompson clear his throat to speak, but she didn’t want him interrupting her flow. So far Louise was talking without any issue and she wanted to keep things that way.

‘Mr Forster was under the assumption that your name was Lorraine rather than Louise. Can you explain why he thought that?’

‘He thought that because I told him my name was Lorraine.’ A wry look passed across Louise’s face. ‘And before you ask, I lied about my name because sometimes you don’t want to be yourself. It’s not often that I go to bed with a stranger, but as soon as I saw him, I knew I had to have him.’ She shrugged casually in response to Thompson’s raised eyebrow. ‘You might think it’s not terribly ladylike or something, but