“Then we’ll go with Carrick’s theory for the time being. I’ll need forensics to go over everything again, taking into account the new info we have. What’s the grub like in this place?” He looked at Taylor.
“I’ve never eaten here. I very rarely go out.”
“Young lass like you? What a waste. I’m starving and Trotterdown is paying. What’s everyone having?”
They all settled for fish and chips. James sent Brown back to the bar to place the order.
“What’s the plan, boss?” Carrick asked him.
“I eat my fish and chips and then I down as many pints as my stomach can handle.” He drained his glass to demonstrate. “You mean the plan for tomorrow? We shake things up a bit. I, for one, would love Albarn to be our man. Done, dusted and he’s copped it to boot. We need some hard evidence to back it up. Fingerprints on Milly Lancaster’s car. A weapon in Albarn’s house with Stanley Green’s blood all over it.”
“Albarn spent time inside,” Taylor said. “His fingerprints will be on file.”
“Good. Tomorrow, we’re going to put a firecracker so far up the forensics guys’ arses, they’re going to be walking bow-legged for weeks.”
“Littlemore’s going to love that.”
Their fish and chips arrived and they all focused on the food. DC Brown finished first. He ate like he hadn’t seen food in weeks. Taylor barely touched hers. Something was bothering her. There were still holes in the story, and here they were, celebrating as if they’d closed the investigation. Taylor wondered what DI Killian would make of it all.
He’s probably in the hospital, she thought, at his wife’s bedside, while we’re out enjoying ourselves. It wasn’t right.
“Right then,” James pushed his empty plate to the middle of the table, “this is what’s going to happen tomorrow. We’ll drag out Albarn’s phone records. See if he phoned Alice Green before he went and topped himself.”
“Maybe he phoned her to confess,” Southern suggested, “to clear his conscience before he died.”
“But why pretend to be Alice’s husband?” Taylor asked.
“We don’t know,” said James. “No doubt we’ll find out and if we don’t, too bad. Let’s confirm that he actually did phone her and then we’ll let forensics do their thing. I’m personally going to be on their backs the whole time. If everything goes to plan, by Monday, it’ll be case closed. Polgarrow will be able to sleep easy, and I’ll go back to Exeter.”
He punched the air and Taylor cringed. She hoped her feelings weren’t too obvious, but she couldn’t help it. She had a sudden urge to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“Would it be all right if I went home? I’m exhausted. I really need to catch up on some sleep.”
“And miss out on the party?” James said. “You’ll stay right here. We’re only just getting started.”
“Harriet’s right.” Carrick came to her rescue. “We have a lot to get through tomorrow and we all need to be up bright and early with fresh heads.”
“On you go, then,” James said, “don’t let me stop you. I’m going to stick around for a bit though. I like this place.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t want to give him a chance to change his mind. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Taylor felt a lot better once she got home. She had just needed to get away from the Unicorn. DCI James’ voice had given her a headache. The more he drank, the worse he got. She was regretting agreeing to join the team from Exeter, not least because she was faced with a no-win situation. If DI Carrick’s theory turned out to be right and they managed to crack the case in less than two days, the Trotterdown police would appear incompetent. Taylor’s life would be extremely unpleasant for weeks, if not months afterwards. On the other hand, if they found nothing to link Dennis Albarn to the murders and the investigation dragged on, everybody would think she’d jumped onto the wrong ship. She’d be the station laughing-stock.
The best case scenario would be if she worked it out on her own. And there was pretty well no chance of that.
Something had changed in her house. She couldn’t put her finger on it — just a sense that something was different. She shrugged it off and made herself some cheese on toast. Her appetite had returned, now she’d left the pub. The jar of honey was still on the kitchen table. She put it in the cupboard. She’d never dared tell Alice, but she hated honey.
Poor Alice, she’s been through so much heartache in her life. Imagine being married to a man who disappeared for years on end. Danny’s accident had spared her that at least.
She took her plate through to the living room. The cushions on the sofa were arranged differently. She put them back the way they had been and sat down.
Let’s go back to the beginning, she thought.
DI Carrick’s theory was convenient but Taylor’s gut told her they were focusing all their efforts on the easiest solution for the investigation. She found a piece of paper and a pen and started to write:
Stanley Green, found on Wednesday 17 June in the nets of a fishing boat. Dead for almost a week. Date of death therefore around 10 or 11 June. Dennis Albarn claims he saw Green in Trotterdown on Wednesday 10 June and they agreed to meet that Friday.
Albarn might have been the last person to see Stanley Green alive. That tied in with Carrick’s theory. Albarn could have met Green, killed him and lied about meeting him in Trotterdown that Friday.
Why chop him in half and dump him in the sea almost a week after killing him?
Milly Lancaster, last seen Friday 12 June. She didn’t show up for market on the Saturday and her car was found at the bottom of Merryhead on Sunday 14 June.
Maybe Albarn forced her to drive up there and pushed the car off the cliff. Albarn was reasonably fit so the walk back to Polgarrow would have been no problem for him.
She looked back over her notes. On paper, everything supported Carrick’s theory but surely it couldn’t be that simple?
Dennis Albarn, she wrote and underlined the name. She wondered what had been going on is his head.
Killed in an explosion Wednesday 17 June. The gas was left on and the lightning caused a spark that blew up the whole house. Stanley Green’s body was found on the same day.
What were the chances of that happening? One in a million? So . . . Dennis Albarn didn’t expect the body to ever be found, panicked and saw only one way out?
Taylor gave in. DI Carrick must be right and they had found their murderer. She finished her cheese on toast and started getting ready for bed. She flipped her pillbox open and frowned. She was sure there had been more tablets in there. Maybe the new pharmacist had given her fewer tablets than usual. She swallowed two of the blue capsules, climbed into bed and waited for the dreamless nothingness to take over.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The longest day of the year brought with it such an influx of tourists to the area around Trotterdown that the roads were already gridlocked when Taylor set off at six-thirty. She’d never experienced anything like it before. Summer in Edinburgh had been busy, but nothing like this. It was starting to get horribly hot and sticky inside her car, and when she wound down the windows, the air outside was not much cooler. The car in front moved forwards slightly, only to grind to a halt after a few seconds. She turned off the engine, afraid it would overheat.