Killian was about to say something else when a very red-faced PC Thomas White barged in.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but a man’s just phoned in. A Peter Sugden. He reckons he spoke to Milly Lancaster on Friday night around eight.”
“Where is he now?” Killian asked.
“At home. I got his address and contact number. I told him to expect us some time this morning.”
“Taylor,” Killian said, “You and I are going to have a word with Mr Sugden.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Peter Sugden lived opposite the pub in Polgarrow. Taylor shivered as they drove past Milly Lancaster’s house and parked outside his bungalow.
He answered the door straight away. He was a rotund man with an extremely bulbous nose. From the blotches caused by burst blood vessels on his face, Taylor suspected he liked a drink or two.
“You must be the police,” Sugden said to DI Killian. “Come in, but you’ll have to excuse the mess. The cleaning girl only comes in on Wednesdays.”
He led them inside to a musty-smelling living room. The stale smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air.
“Take a seat.” He pointed to a three-seater sofa. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No thanks,” Killian said. “You phoned in to say you spoke to Milly Lancaster on Friday evening? Is that correct?”
“Terrible business. If I’d known what was going to happen, I’d have stopped her from getting in the car.”
“What do you mean?” Taylor asked.
“You know. If I’d known she was about to drive off the cliff, of course I would’ve done something to stop her. I couldn’t believe it when I read the paper this morning. Do you mind if I smoke?”
Killian shook his head. Sugden took out a crumpled packet of Camel Plain, lit one and coughed.
“Terrible habit, I know,” he said, “but after forty years, it’s a bit late to stop now.”
“Can you tell us about when you spoke to Milly Lancaster?” Killian said.
“It was Friday evening.” Sugden inhaled deeply and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Around eight, I think. I always go to the Boar around that time. Four pints and I’m home by nine thirty. Milly was about to get into her car. She parks it by the pub — there’s no space to park it by her house.”
“What did you talk about?” Taylor asked.
“Nothing. I barely know Milly. Just enough to say hello, if you know what I mean.”
“So you didn’t speak to Mrs Lancaster?” Killian said.
“I just said hello, I made some comment about the weather and went inside the pub.”
“How did Milly seem to you?” Taylor asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Did she appear anxious at all? Did she look like something was bothering her?”
“No, but then again, I’m not the most observant bloke in the world. My late wife, God rest her soul, used to moan like hell about it. Said I never noticed a thing. Milly seemed fine to me.”
“So she got in her car,” Killian said. “Did you see which direction she went in?”
“Up towards Bodgarth. It’s on the way to Merryhead.”
“I know where it is,” Killian said.
“Did you see anybody else hanging around?” Taylor asked. “Did anybody follow Mrs Lancaster?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but, like I said, I don’t notice much. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
The room was now so full of smoke that Taylor’s eyes were stinging.
“Thank you for your time, Mr Sugden,” Killian said. “If you think of anything else, please phone me on my mobile.” He handed Sugden one of his cards. “We’ll see ourselves out,” he added.
“Any use, do you think?” Taylor asked as they walked back to Killian’s car.
“Might be, if something else turns up. Sugden might have given us something that just makes everything fall into place.”
Taylor had worked with Killian for six months now and his optimism still amazed her. She had never come across somebody so positive about everything. She was about to get into the car when she spotted the curtains in Alice Green’s house moving. “Sir, there’s something I need to talk to Alice Green about. She’s Milly’s best friend.” She pointed to Alice’s house.
Alice was waiting for them at the front door. “Morning, love,” she said to Taylor, eyeing Killian with obvious suspicion.
“Good morning, Mrs Green,” Taylor said. “This is Detective Inspector Killian. Can we have a quick word?”
“Detective Inspector?” Alice seemed impressed. “Come in. It’s not every day I have a police inspector in my house.”
They went inside to the kitchen. The jackdaw cawed loudly when they sat down at the table.
“Please excuse him,” Alice said. “He’s got the manners of a pig sometimes.”
“Jackdaws are amazing birds,” said Killian. He looked at the bird. “I rescued one when I was a kid. Kept it for three years.”
“Do you know Peter Sugden?” Taylor asked.
“Oh, I know Sugden very well. Real creep, that one. Thinks he’s God’s gift. I mean, have you seen the state of him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Uglier than a warthog in drag, he is. Just because he’s got a bit of money, he thinks he’s hot property. He took a fancy to poor Milly a while back.”
“Did he now?” Killian said.
“He wouldn’t leave her alone. He’d come calling day and night. Milly wasn’t interested, but men like Sugden don’t seem to get the hint.”
“Men like Sugden?” Taylor repeated.
“Perverts, for want of a better word. I can tell you it was borderline stalking. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Why are you so interested in Peter Sugden?”
“He claims he spoke to Milly the evening she disappeared,” Killian said, “and he said he saw her drive off in the direction of Merryhead.”
“And you believe him?”
“Why would he lie?” Taylor asked her.
“Milly never mentioned anything to me about going up to Merryhead. And Milly told me everything. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you. We have to be going. We have a lot to get through today.”
“It was lovely to see you again,” Alice said to Taylor. “And it was nice to meet you, Detective Inspector.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“What did you make of that?” Taylor asked Killian as they drove back to Trotterdown.
“Somebody’s lying to us,” Killian said, “and I don’t think it’s the beekeeper. Peter Sugden said he hardly knew Milly Lancaster, but Alice Green told us a different story.”
“Aren’t we going to speak with Sugden again? There’s something odd about him. Why phone in with information and then lie to us?” Taylor said.
“You know what it’s like. People have all sorts of reasons for being cagey with the police. But yes, I’ve got my eye on Mr Sugden. He’s hiding something. I can feel it,” Killian replied.
“Why don’t we go back?”
“Not yet. At this moment, Sugden believes he’s done his civic duty and that’s the end of it. I’m going to give it a few hours and wait until the pub opens. Then I’ll send one of the Whites to check out Sugden’s story. Did he really go to the pub that night or was he up on Merryhead too?”
A suspect at last, thought Taylor. Finally they were getting somewhere. They drove in silence the rest of the way to Trotterdown, where the newspaper reporters were still waiting round.