‘Colin, will you tell me, please, why you didn’t believe the army version of your brother’s death?’
Colin drew his knees up to his chest and spent what seemed to Kelly to be an inordinately long period of time staring at his trainer-clad feet. ‘If you like,’ he said eventually. ‘Jimmy and I was always mates, you see. He told me all about it. About how he’d been on duty with that girl, who they said killed herself. Jimmy never believed that. He said he knew she hadn’t. Just knew it. He said there were all sorts of things wrong. He gave evidence, didn’t he, at her inquest, and he told them how he and the others had searched where her body was found, and it just hadn’t been there. Jimmy reckoned she must have been moved. Also, there was some drunken Irish bloke trying to get into the officers’ mess without any proper identification that night. Made quite a commotion, apparently. Then this Rupert came out and said to let him by. Jimmy said sentry duty was a joke at Hangridge. They didn’t have a clue who was coming and going half the time, he said.’
‘Did he ever find out who the Irishman was?’
‘No. At least, I don’t think so. He never told me, anyway. There was something else, though. He said, after he heard the shots the night the girl died, he saw someone running across the playing field away from the perimeter fence. He called out, challenged like — you know, the way they’re supposed to.’ Colin Gates paused and looked directly at Kelly. ‘“Who goes there?” Is that what they really say?’
Kelly found himself grinning. ‘I don’t have a clue,’ he said. ‘Go on. Did Jimmy tell you what happened next.’
Colin Gates nodded.
‘Yeah. Apparently, this person kept running and just disappeared out of sight. Our Jimmy didn’t even know whether it was a man or a woman. He said he thought it was a man, though, but he wasn’t sure why.’
Kelly was fascinated. ‘Why didn’t he say all that at the inquest?’ he enquired.
‘He said he wasn’t asked anything like that, that it was all sort of cut and dried, really, and he never got the chance to say anything except answer the questions he was asked.’
‘But he had told the military police about seeing someone running across the playing field, away from the scene?’
‘Oh yes. He said they kept pushing him about identifying whoever it was, but he hadn’t a clue.’
‘So it would be in the MP records.’ Kelly was thinking aloud.
‘How do I know?’
‘No, of course not.’
With the elasticity of extreme youth Colin Gates suddenly swung his legs off the sofa and straightened himself, so that he was sitting bolt upright and staring quite directly at Kelly.
‘Do you think my brother’s been murdered, then? Is that what all this is about?’
Kelly found that he was quite disconcerted by the young man’s blunt approach.
‘Colin, I didn’t even know your brother was dead until ten minutes ago,’ he responded rather lamely, he thought.
‘Right.’ Colin continued to stare at Kelly for what seemed like another long period of time. ‘How many deaths have there been up at Hangridge, then?’ he asked eventually.
Kelly reckoned then that the young man before him was probably considerably more astute than he looked.
‘I’m not sure that I know the answer to that,’ he replied truthfully. ‘Every time I move I seem to discover another one.’
Karen was in her office at Torquay police station. Her mobile was on the desk before her. And it was ringing. But she made no attempt to pick it up and answer it. Instead, she sat staring at it as Kelly’s number appeared on the display panel.
‘Damn,’ she thought. What was it about her life? Everything in it seemed to get complicated. And it was invariably her own fault. Her relationship with Kelly had never been complicated before. In addition, although they had had their ups and downs over the years, their rather unusual friendship, which she so valued, had always remained strong. Until now.
Unaware that Kelly had exactly the same misgivings, she feared it would never be quite the same again. She finally reached for the phone just as it stopped ringing. She knew that Kelly had been planning to visit the families of both Trevor Parsons and James Gates, and she wanted to know what he had learned. She wanted to know that very much. Which meant, she realised, that she had to overcome the embarrassment she felt and talk to Kelly at once.
She punched in his number.
‘Good afternoon, Karen,’ he said quietly. And the sound of his voice caused her whole body to react, as she involuntarily remembered that forbidden kiss and how it had made her feel. She wouldn’t think about it. She just wouldn’t.
‘Look, about last night—’ she began, after a short pause.
‘I know, it was an apparition,’ he interrupted.
‘Damned right,’ she said, instantly relieved, but at the same time, in spite of her better judgement, just a tad disappointed to hear those words from him. ‘You’re almost certainly still in shock from Moira’s death, and as for me, well...’
‘I know. I’m so sorry. Look, can we just forget about it, go back to how things were before?’
It was exactly what she had wanted, of course. So why did it also make her feel rather sad? She gave herself a mental shaking. What was wrong with her sometimes?
‘Of course we can,’ she replied.
‘Good, because I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Right, fire away.’
‘OK. Just listen to this.’ Kelly sounded excited now. And tense. ‘Look, I’m in London. I came up to try to find James Gates. Now, it could be that the death of Trevor Parsons really was a suicide. It’s impossible to say for certain, but it at least seems that he was a likely candidate. But, well, you’re not going to believe this — Gates is dead too. Gates is dead, Karen. And if you want my opinion, the way he died absolutely stinks.’
‘Jesus,’ said Karen, finally genuinely forgetting all about the events of the previous night. ‘Not another one!’
‘The fifth,’ responded Kelly. ‘And wait till you hear what happened to him.’
He told her then everything that he had learned from James Gates’ younger brother.
Karen was quite incredulous. ‘He died in a few inches of water, in a paddling pool? And in Germany, so there aren’t any inquest records over here. And, coincidentally, he was a key witness at the inquest into one of the most suspicious deaths of all. You’re right, Kelly, it stinks. And, quite frankly, if I can’t get permission to open a proper police inquiry now, I think I’ll tell the arseholes where to stick this fucking job.’
‘Hang on, Karen. Hang on. You still have the situation where the army doubtless has plausible explanations for each individual case, even if we think that those explanations look thin when you consider the whole picture. So why don’t you let me have a go at Gerrard Parker-Brown before you do that. I have quite a dossier now to put to him, and I am representing the families, don’t forget. I don’t see how he’ll be able to ignore me. If I turn up unannounced first thing tomorrow morning, I might get something out of him. The surprise approach so often works, as you know...’
‘And you might pre-warn him, Kelly.’
‘He’s warned already. He’s met you, got to know you a bit. I can’t believe that he was left in much doubt that you would not step back from this without a damned good fight. That’s the sort of copper you are, and, from what you’ve told me, he’s no fool. He would have grasped at once what he was up against. After all, he went straight to Harry Tomlinson, didn’t he? The old pals act and all that. They’re natural allies those two, aren’t they? So, do you honestly think Parker-Brown doesn’t know every official move you make? Let me have a go, first, please.’