‘Do you think this Michael Lane character could be involved in the tractor theft?’ Banks asked.
Annie seemed to deliberate a few moments before answering. ‘It’s possible,’ she said. ‘I mean, he got probation and community service for joyriding eighteen months back, after his mum left his dad, though I don’t think that means much. He was upset at the time. He also sometimes works as an odd-job man on the local farms along with his mate Morgan Spencer. It’s likely that they are in a good position to know who’s at home and who isn’t. Maybe Michael Lane couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth? Maybe him and Spencer are both on their way to Romania or wherever with the tractor? But Lane has an alibi, for what it’s worth. His girlfriend swears he was with her all Saturday night, until about half past nine Sunday morning.’
‘Any ideas?’
‘Well,’ said Annie. ‘I wouldn’t overlook the possibility of insurance fraud.’
‘You mean Beddoes himself?’
‘Why not? He’s got a City background, apparently. Knows finance. On the surface of it, he seems well off. But the farm can’t be all that profitable. All he does is raise a few pigs and free-range chickens for local restaurants and several acres of rapeseed for high-end cooking oils. He might have got into something over his head. Or maybe he needs to supplement his income? And the idiot did leave the ignition key hanging on a hook on the wall.’
‘Worth thinking about,’ Banks said. He glanced towards AC Gervaise. ‘I understand you know Patricia Beddoes, ma’am?’
‘Slightly.’
‘What do you think?’
‘Their finances? Insurance fraud? I couldn’t really say one way or the other. She always seemed like a comfortably off person to me. Nice clothes. Designer labels. I think she was a bit bored with the country, missed her exotic travel. Hence the Mexico trip, I suppose. And I do believe they have a little pied-à-terre in Holland Park. Other than that, all I know is that she likes Kate Atkinson and Khaled Hosseini.’
That drew several chuckles from the room. ‘You know,’ Annie said, ‘if we’re considering a local candidate being involved, what about Frank Lane? By the look of his farm he could do with an injection of cash, and he felt resentful towards the successful incomer. It was obvious in his tone and what he said. He was also in a position to organise the theft easily enough. He had the keys to Beddoes’ farm, and he probably knew that the tractor keys were hanging on the wall of the garage. Just a possibility.’
‘And we’ll bear it in mind,’ said Banks. ‘Maybe father and son were in it together? Did Michael Lane know that Beddoes was on holiday?’ Banks asked Annie.
‘More than likely. And Frank Lane also seemed a bit contemptuous of the Mexico trip. Or maybe he was just envious.’
‘You said Michael Lane’s relationship with the victim, John Beddoes, was strained?’
‘Yes,’ said Annie. ‘I suppose it could have been some sort of misguided revenge, an old vendetta. Also, Frank Lane said he thought Beddoes was full of himself. He played it down, said there was no bitterness, but there could be something in it. Lane’s a professional farmer, making a hard living the hard way. Beddoes is an amateur, a hobbyist. That sort of thing. If Michael had something against both of them, then he’d know that stealing the tractor would probably hurt his father, Frank Lane, too, as he’d been given the responsibility of looking after the Beddoes’ farm. Two birds with one stone. And Michael does have the joyriding incident in his background. Trouble is, we don’t really know Michael Lane, what sort of person he is. His partner thinks he’s wonderful, but she’s biased. Is he the vengeful sort, the type to harbour a grudge? We don’t know. We also need to have a more extensive search of Lane’s farm, just in case he’s hanging out there for some reason.’
‘We’ll schedule that for tomorrow morning,’ Banks said. ‘I’d like to talk to Beddoes and Lane myself. I’m not sure about the vendetta angle, though. These tractors are worth a lot of money, and it takes a great deal of organisation, not to mention expense, to steal one. Do you think Michael Lane, or even his father, was capable of organising such a theft?’
‘No,’ said Annie. ‘I shouldn’t imagine they were. I certainly don’t think Michael Lane could have stolen it by himself, but he could have been involved with whoever did do it. As I said, Beddoes left the key in the garage. Michael Lane might have known about that, too. He could also have been the one who gave the tip-off about the Beddoes’ Mexican trip, for example.’ Annie became silent, as if she were realising something for the first time.
What is it, Annie?’ Banks asked.
‘Probably nothing, really.’ Damn it, Annie thought, she hated this. Talking to Alex Preston had affected her. Like most of the Eastvale police, Annie had written off the East Side Estate, mainly because the only times she had ever been there were to the scenes of domestics, drug deals turned nasty, fights, stabbings, even murders. On such experiences were a copper’s judgements based. But Alex Preston not only kept a clean house and loved her young son, she had put her mistakes behind her – mistakes that could have set many a soul well on the way to more of the same – and pulled herself up by the bootstraps. She had a positive, optimistic outlook that Annie admired, and she had dreams. Perhaps Annie also envied Alex a bit, she was willing to admit. Alex seemed to have got herself together and found a good man. Annie had no one to look after her and make her happy. She didn’t have many dreams left, either.
It was rare that Annie felt sentimental about people she didn’t really know, and maybe it was a sign that she was leaving behind some of the depression and cynicism that seemed to have invaded her mind since the shooting. That was a good thing; she hadn’t liked the person she was becoming. Loneliness was turning her into a moody and sharp-tongued bitch. If she got much worse, she wouldn’t be able to find anyone willing to put up with her, let alone love and cherish her. She just hoped that she didn’t get so soft she couldn’t see the hard truth when it was staring her in the face. Any good copper needs at least an ounce or two of scepticism, even cynicism. But Annie also realised that she had not completely lost her copper’s mistrust of the world, that some of what she had learned from Alex Preston had made her more suspicious of Michael Lane.
‘Lane’s girlfriend, Alex Preston, works part-time at that travel agent’s in the Swainsdale Centre,’ she said. ‘GoThereNow.’
‘The same one Beddoes used to book the trip?’
‘Dunno.’ Annie glanced at Doug Wilson. ‘We haven’t had a chance to check it out yet. We’ve been splodging around in the mud most of the day.’
This drew a titter from the audience. Banks glanced at his watch. ‘First thing tomorrow. Then we can scrounge up a few bodies and give the Lane farm a thorough once-over, just to make sure Michael Lane isn’t there. That would be embarrassing.’ He paused. ‘Do you think this Preston woman could be involved?’
‘She’s worried sick,’ said Annie. ‘She thinks something’s happened to Lane.’
‘And you?’
‘I’m taking her seriously.’
‘Is anyone actually looking? I mean, he’s not officially listed as missing yet, is he?’
‘No, sir,’ said Doug Wilson. ‘But DI Cabbot and I got a recent picture and we’ve circulated it within the area. We’ve also been in touch with the airlines and railway stations, and we’ve asked to be informed of any activity on his mobile phone, debit or credit card. Nothing yet, not since last Friday.’