‘For God’s sake, how much proof do you need?’ Tash was almost shrieking. ‘There are so many things I could tell you. I begged her to leave him, make a new life for herself, but it was no good. He’d cowed her into submission, it was as if she didn’t have a mind of her own. That’s the way he operates. He’s vicious, a control freak. If she dared to stand up to him, he used to rape her.’
Hannah stared. ‘She told you that?’
‘Yes, and it wasn’t only when she defied him. He insisted on sex every night. Regardless of anything.’ Tash was speaking rapidly, as if a dam of reticence had burst. ‘Kinky sex was what he liked best. He used to tie her up, pretend to strangle her with her own tights. Occasionally there were threesomes, with his slimy pal Joe Dowling. Her own cousin. If she showed any reluctance…oh God, he’s a wicked man, a pervert, and I turned a blind eye to it, even though it was all going on next door.’
Simon said hoarsely, ‘You should have told me, darling.’
‘She swore me to secrecy, said he’d kill her if he found out that she’d talked to anyone else. How could I betray her?’
Hannah said, ‘We’ll need to take a full statement from you, Mrs Dumelow.’
‘What if he denies it?’ Tash’s pupils dilated with horror. ‘He’s a hardened liar and Jean is dead. Joe won’t admit his part in it, he’ll be too scared. I can’t prove any of this. Nothing.’
‘Leave us to worry about that.’
‘You know Tom’s past. He’s got away with things before. But I’m not sure you know the whole of it.’
‘And you do?’
In a whisper she said, ‘I think he may have killed Gabrielle Anders. God forgive me, I thought Barrie was guilty. But now I’m not so sure.’
‘What?’ Hannah stared at her. ‘What’s your evidence for saying that?’
‘Jean told me she gave him a false alibi. She never believed that he’d murdered Gabrielle, but that’s because she didn’t want to.’
‘That doesn’t prove he murdered Gabrielle.’
‘Come on.’ Tash was weary as well as scornful. ‘If Barrie didn’t kill her, who did?’
‘That’s pure speculation.’
‘She told me she phoned the police about it, although she didn’t dare give her name. You know about that, you must do.’
‘Yes,’ Hannah said. ‘It took us a while, but we suspected Jean Allardyce made the call.’
‘I thought that was why you’d come back here. To check up on him.’
‘Well…’
‘Listen.’ Tash’s voice faltered as she gestured to the farmhouse. ‘That man killed her and it’s my responsibility. Jean was my friend. I’m the one who let her down. I have to make amends.’
‘Darling…’ Simon said.
As he started speaking, Tash broke away from them and started running towards the farmhouse. Hannah hesitated. If she gave chase, what was she going to do when she caught up with her quarry — rugby-tackle her to the ground? Hardly the way to treat a key prosecution witness. But she had to do something. Suppose Allardyce tried to hurt Tash, maybe attempted to kill her?
‘Mrs Dumelow, come back!’
Tash kept running and so Hannah started after her. But the other woman was lithe and fit and she’d opened up a gap. Soon she reached the yard and Hannah saw her carry on until she was standing a few paces away from Allardyce’s front door.
‘Jean’s dead!’ she shouted. ‘You killed her!’
A siren wailed not far away. The paramedics were turning into the rutted lane.
‘Mrs Dumelow!’ Hannah panted. ‘Please. Come back.’
Tash seemed to spot a movement at an upstairs window. ‘You murdering bastard!’
‘It’s not safe, Mrs Dumelow!’
‘Put that down!’ Tash bellowed at the figure in the window.
Hannah was nearly at the yard. The siren had fallen silent. Tash Dumelow was waving her fist at the man in the farmhouse.
‘You’ll never get away with it!’
‘Mrs Dumelow, please!’
A rifle shot rang out and Tash Dumelow screamed.
Out on the main road, Daniel heard a crack shattering the stillness. Just like the shot he and Miranda had heard at Tarn Cottage. For Christ’s sake, surely Allardyce wasn’t firing at the ambulance or at the police? He could see a police car parked near the front of the Hall. Was Hannah at the farm, checking on Jean Allardyce’s whereabouts after he had passed on the information from Tash Dumelow? He offered up a prayer that she wasn’t indulging in any heroics.
‘Hear that?’ A cyclist pulled up beside him, a tubby man whose voice wobbled with excitement. ‘Sounded like someone’s trying to pot the panda car that just whizzed past. Or maybe even the ambulance. For goodness sake, what’s going on?’
Daniel spread his arms. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
The bullet had kicked up a spray of dirt close to the barn, ten yards away from where Tash was standing. She’d covered her face with her hands, but hadn’t moved. It was as if the shot had paralysed her. Allardyce hadn’t aimed at her, Hannah was certain. A marksman trained by the army, however rusty his aim, would have come much closer to his target.
No time to deliberate. She raced into the yard and seized Tash by the wrist.
‘Come on — quickly!’
Tash stumbled as Hannah dragged her across the cobbles. Her face was glowing, as if being shot vindicated her. By hazarding her safety, she’d induced Allardyce to give himself away. Hannah ducked her head as they moved. At any moment the farmer might fire again.
At last, they reached the barn and safety. Hannah pressed her back against the stone wall. The windows of the farmhouse were out of sight, so they were out of Allardyce’s range. The main risk now was that he might emerge from the front door, rifle in hand.
‘What do you think you were doing?’ Hannah gasped as she let go of Tash’s wrist.
‘I had to confront him. You can see what his temper is like. It was the only way.’
‘You might have been killed.’
‘So might you,’ Tash said. ‘You didn’t have to come and save me.’
Hannah was still trying to catch her breath. ‘What else could I do?’
Tash blinked away tears. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have exposed you to danger.’
‘At least we’re both still in one piece.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Back off and call for help. I’ve had my ration of excitement for the time being.’
She called the control room and told them where she was. ‘We have a firearms situation here. Can you get a couple of ARVs over soonest? Along with dog patrols?’
Tash said, ‘ARVs?’
‘Armed response vehicles.’
‘Why dogs?’
‘We don’t want anyone hurt. Or any thing.’
Tash raised her eyebrows. ‘But if he does shoot again, it’s better for a dog to stop a bullet?’
Hannah grunted. Tash had a knack of putting her at a disadvantage. ‘I don’t want to lose one of my fellow officers.’
Tash paled. ‘I guess you’re right. Tom’s crazy, I’ve thought that for a long time.’
Hannah glanced over her shoulder. In the distance, Simon Dumelow was edging along the path that led to the Hall. He should be safe; not even an SAS veteran could shoot round corners. An unworthy thought flashed into her brain: does it matter to him?
Nick Lowther was approaching. He must have deserted the sheep handling facility on hearing the shot. The ambulance and a police car had pulled up nearby and their occupants were clambering out. She put up a hand to show that she was all right, then waved him back. He still had a job to do with the SOCOs at the crime scene and she didn’t want him to stray into the line of fire.
‘Listen, Mrs Dumelow. I need to keep you out of harm’s way, but we’ll also need information from you, just in case this mess doesn’t sort itself out as quickly as we’d hope.’
‘Anything,’ Tash said. ‘What do you need to know?’
‘The layout of the farmhouse. Apart from the front and back doors, are there any other exits? And what sort of arsenal does Allardyce have in there?’
‘You only need worry about the two main doors. Unless he takes his life in his hands and climbs out of the landing window on to the roof of the lean-to. As for guns, I’d guess he has a stockpile.’