“I don’t buy it,” Carrick said. “I want to have a look at the report myself. We’ll need Albarn’s DNA too. I want to see if we can link him in any way to the deaths of Stanley Green and Milly Lancaster.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Deadly serious.” She told him her theory and he thought about it for a moment.
“You know what, you could actually be onto something there.”
“Dennis Albarn’s phone,” Taylor said. “Was it found among the wreckage?”
“Everything was destroyed. You saw the place. It must have been a hell of a blast.”
“It was. I was just nearby when it happened.”
“Why do you want his phone?”
“He may have phoned Alice Green on Wednesday evening, shortly before the explosion. Alice deleted the number. She thought it was her husband, but he was already dead by then.”
“We don’t need the phone, then. We just need to get hold of his service provider. All the calls will be logged.”
Taylor could have kicked herself for not thinking of that herself. With everything that had happened, she had lost sight of standard procedure. Nevertheless, she had the feeling that they were starting to get somewhere. The new team from Exeter seemed to be the catalyst they desperately needed.
They were joined by an exhausted-looking DC Brown. “I’m knackered,” he said. “We must have harassed half the population of Polgarrow today. Those old people really know how to chat.”
“Did you find anything?” Carrick asked.
“Stanley Green and Dennis Albarn were well-known characters. Well, more notorious, really, but more loveable rogues than anything worse. Everyone we spoke to said the same thing. Nobody could think of any reason why somebody would actually want to kill them.”
“What about Milly Lancaster?”
“That’s a strange one. Nobody had much to say about Milly Lancaster at all. She kept herself to herself, by all accounts. Alice Green was her only friend.”
They sat in silence for a while. Taylor turned to look at one of the other tables. Two PCs she barely knew were scowling at her. “Is there something wrong?” she shouted over at them. The pair got up and left the canteen.
“We’ve got two hours before the meeting with the DCI,” Carrick said. “I want forensics to go over everything again but I need to run it past James first. It’s been a long day for everyone, so I suggest we all go and freshen up a bit before we have to meet in the Unicorn at seven.”
Taylor grabbed the opportunity to get home, even only for a short time. She found a jar of honey on the kitchen table. She was sure it hadn’t been there when she and Carrick had been there earlier.
Alice still has my spare keys, she thought, making a mental note to pick them up when she had a chance. She opened the back door and went into the garden. The late afternoon sun was beating down on the distant sea. She’d never tire of this view. She would much rather have stayed here than go to the Unicorn. She knew full well that the pub wasn’t a place for the faint-hearted on a Saturday night. The clientele could be rather rowdy and there always seemed to be trouble around closing time.
Taylor’s phone rang.
“Hello, Alice,” she said.
“How did you know it was me?” Alice replied.
“Caller ID. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay at your house. And I’ve had a think about the phone call I received on Wednesday evening. I think you might be right and it could well have been Dennis Albarn. It’s such a shame I deleted the number.”
“It doesn’t matter. We can find out if he phoned you anyway. All his calls will be logged with his service provider.”
“Oh.”
Taylor realised that for someone of Alice’s age, modern technology might be hard to fathom sometimes. She certainly sounded taken aback.
She rallied pretty quickly and suggested she bring back Taylor’s keys later.
“I’m afraid I have to go out.”
“Oh yes? Tell me you’ve finally bitten the bullet and decided to go out on a date?”
“No, we’ve got a case meeting at the Unicorn at seven. You can drop the keys off at the station tomorrow, if you like.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. Don’t tell me they’ve got you working on a Sunday?”
“I’m afraid criminals don’t work a five-day week. I’ll tell you what. I’ll fetch the keys the next time I’m in Polgarrow.”
“That’s fine, dear. Enjoy the meeting,” Alice said and rang off.
Taylor went upstairs and ran a shower. She made it as cold as she could handle, blasting freezing cold water onto her head. It revived her, and her mind started to race.
Could Dennis Albarn have killed Stanley Green and Milly Lancaster? She thought. Was it really that simple? DI Carrick’s theory was becoming more and more credible, the more she thought about it.
She got out of the shower and dried herself. She was wide awake and ready for the meeting. Unicorn or no Unicorn, they were going to get results, she was certain of it. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were dark rings underneath them. Her skin was deathly pale. She remembered the £14,000. She had a couple of weeks’ holiday owed to her.
When this is all over, she thought, I’m going to take a holiday somewhere. Somewhere warm and far away.
* * *
The Unicorn was already busy at a quarter to seven. Groups of young people sat at tables laughing at the screens of mobile phones. Older patrons sat at the bar nursing pints of ale. Taylor found the team from Exeter at the table furthest from the bar. DS Southern wasn’t there yet.
“Take a seat,” DCI James said. “Brown’s buying. What do you want to drink?”
“Tonic water, please.”
“Are you pulling my leg?”
“No. I don’t drink.”
“You call yourself a detective?” James patted DC Brown on the shoulder.
“You heard the lady,” he said to the pig-faced DC, “she’ll have a tonic water. And I’ll have another pint.”
Brown shuffled off towards the crowded bar. DS Southern arrived and sat down next to James. He was wearing far too much aftershave and had a small plaster on his chin where he had obviously cut himself shaving.
“Right,” James said when Brown had returned with the drinks, “let’s get started. Jane?”
“We’ve come up with something. I think it’s worth checking out.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Go on.”
“Dennis Albarn. What if he killed Stanley Green in a fit of rage? And Milly Lancaster happened to witness the attack so he killed her to shut her up.”
“Mmm. And then you think Albarn topped himself out of remorse for what he’d done?”
“Exactly. What do you think?”
“It’s a bit far-fetched but I’ve seen real situations that were more bizarre. What made you come up with this?”
“The gas. I think he meant to kill himself by sticking his head in the oven, but the lightning had other ideas.”
“Alice Green had a phone call on Wednesday evening too,” Taylor added. “The night of the explosion. She thinks it was Albarn who phoned her. First she thought it was her husband, but he was already dead by then. We’ll need your go ahead to contact Albarn’s service provider to check.”
“Good.” James finished half the beer in his glass in one go and belched. “Excuse me. Phil, what did you and White find out from knocking on doors?”
“Not much. Nothing suspicious sprang out.”