My fault. My fault.
He stood up again, unable to bear being still. He went to the phone and dialled Directory Inquiries for the number of the police station in Tunford. The policeman who answered didn’t sound like the one he had seen after Kale had shot the dog. He gave Ben the number for the incident room. When he rang it a policewoman politely asked who he was and why he was calling. He tried to explain, but knew he wasn’t making a very coherent job of it. He wasn’t really sure himself. The policewoman said she would pass on his message and thanked him for getting in touch.
He hung up and stared into space. Then he wiped up the milk and went out. There was no reason for him to be at the studio so early, but he needed to get out of the house. He hadn’t gone a mile before it occurred to him where he really wanted to go.
He turned around and headed for Tunford.
Colin called him on his mobile when he was on the motorway. “Have you heard?” Ben said he had. “I’m on my way up there now.”
“To Tunford? Is there any point?”
“I don’t know.”
He did, though. He needed to know that Jacob was safe, to make sure that the police were protecting him. But he didn’t want to discuss it, didn’t even want to think about it, until he knew for sure.
“Will you phone San—” Shit. “—I mean Zoe, for me. Ask her to cancel today’s shoot. Tell her... well, just tell her what’s happened.”
Zoe would be able to think of a better excuse than he could.
A heaviness grew in him the closer he drew to the town.
It was a cold and bright morning. The sky was a clear, arctic blue. He passed familiar landmarks; this was the turnoff he always took; that was the road that led to the woods; there was the police station; the pub. It was all unchanged, bleak and battened down for winter. He could almost believe the news report was wrong.
Then he turned on to the Kales’ street and saw the cluster of police vehicles and knew it wasn’t. Neighbours stood watching from doorways or bunched in small groups. Some of them were being questioned by uniformed police officers. He drove past, stopped and got out. The Kales’ front door was open. Yellow tape sealed off the path and garden. A large white trailer with a band of black checks running down its length was parked outside. Steps ran up to a door, and as Ben approached it opened and a policewoman emerged. She saw Ben and came towards him.
“Can I help you, sir?”
He tore his eyes from the sight of a man in plain clothes on his hands and knees in the Kales’ hallway, examining something on the carpet.
“I need to speak to whoever’s in charge.”
She greeted this with a stony lack of emotion. “Can you tell me what it concerns?”
“It’s about the murder.” It sounded ridiculously melodramatic.
The policewoman asked him his name and went back into the trailer. A moment later she re-emerged. “Would you like to come in?”
Ben went up the steps. The inside of the van was like a miniature office. A middle-aged man in a grey suit was talking to a beefy constable with a clipboard. He turned to Ben as the constable went out.
“I’m Detective Inspector Norris. How can I help you, Mr Murray?” He had a flat Midlands accent.
“Have you found Kale?”
“We’re looking for Mr Kale to help us with our enquiries,” Norris said, noncommittally. “The constable said you had some information relating to Mrs Kale’s murder?”
Ben ignored this.
“He’s going to go after his son.” He knew it beyond any possibility of doubt. The certainty had hit him like a physical blow in the car. He broke into a sweat again now with the need to convince the policeman. “The social services put his son in care last week—”
“Yes, we know.”
Ben faltered. “His wife gave evidence against him. He found out and... and that’s why he did this. He’s going to try to get his son.”
“Has Mr Kale been in contact with you?”
“No, but—”
“Perhaps you could tell me exactly what your involvement is, then, sir?”
“I’m the boy’s stepfather.”
The policeman took a moment to consider this. “I see.”
“Look, I know Kale — I know what he’s like. He isn’t going to let anything come between him and his son.”
“I appreciate your concern, Mr Murray, but if the boy’s in care Mr Kale isn’t going to know where he is.”
“They’re sending him to the same school. He’s autistic, there aren’t many special-needs schools about. Kale’s going to go there—”
“Just a second.” Norris went over to a man in plain clothes.
He spoke, too low for Ben to overhear. The other man nodded and picked up a telephone. The inspector came back.
“I’ve arranged for a car to be sent. We’ll have someone outside all day.” Ben felt relieved, but not entirely reassured. “You know he’s an ex-soldier?”
“We’re aware of his background. Is there anything else you can think of that might help us?” It was phrased as a dismissal.
Ben couldn’t think of anything. He looked out of the small window set in the side of the trailer. The Kales’ house was visible through it.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry, sir, we’re not an information service. We’re in the middle of a murder investigation, so—”
“For Christ’s sake, it was me who got her to testify against him.”
He hadn’t meant to shout. There was a silence in the trailer. Norris regarded him, then sat down. The background noise started up again.
“Kale was released on bail yesterday afternoon. We know from neighbours that he arrived here about five. There were sounds of an altercation — nothing new, apparently — then Kale was seen to leave and drive away at about five thirty. A man was walking a dog along a path at the back of the house at about eleven o’clock last night. He noticed the Kales’ kitchen door was open. By the light from it he saw something lying in the garden. He thought it was a body, but it was difficult to see.” He shrugged. “There’s a lot of scrap metal back there.”
“I know,” Ben said.
Norris glanced at him but didn’t comment. “He called the local police station. They sent someone to investigate and found Sandra Kale. At least, they guessed it was her. Someone had dropped part of a car engine on her head. Are you all right, sir?”
Ben gave a nod. The news of what Kale had used to kill his wife had made the room seem to tilt. He didn’t doubt what it was. He’d seen him lift it over Jacob on two occasions.
He flinched at a vision of the heavy cylinder thudding into the ground.
“We’re still waiting for the pathologist’s report on whether she was already dead when her head was crushed,” the inspector continued. “She’d been badly beaten as well. It’s possible some of the injuries were post-mortem, but they probably came first. Either way, the time of death fits when Kale was here.”
“Didn’t anybody warn her that Kale had been released?”
Norris seemed to hesitate fractionally. “At the moment I can’t answer that.”
“They didn’t, did they? Nobody told her.”
“As I said, I don’t have all the information yet.”
Whatever criticism Ben might have made caught in his throat when he remembered his own role in events. If not for me she’d still be alive.
His anger collapsed, taking its energy with it. “Will you let me know if anything happens?” He fished in his wallet for a card. “You can get me any time on the mobile number.”
The inspector took the card but didn’t say if he would get in touch or not. “Thank you for your help, Mr Murray.”
Ben didn’t take the hint. “You will watch for him at the school, won’t you?”