‘Often let yourself get carried away, do you?’
‘Not by women,’ Hinds said. ‘Least, not for a long while.’
He fixed his eyes on Hannah. She was wearing a cream trouser suit and open-neck blouse. Lauren had issued fresh ‘standards of expectation’ a month back, as part of her campaign to smarten up the force’s image, and as a DCI, Hannah was expected to take a lead when it came to dress code. In the age of austerity, the emphasis was on looking sober and businesslike — no earrings for men, no tattoos likely to offend, no violently coloured hair. And certainly, nothing too revealing. Hinds didn’t look impressed.
‘You did better second time around,’ Greg said.
‘Deirdre? Yeah, she’s not quite such a pain in the arse as Niamh.’
Don’t go overboard with the compliments, Hannah thought. Spare a thought for what it’s like for a woman, trying to make a life with you. But she kept her mouth shut. Greg was doing fine, talking man to man.
‘You got to know her before Callum went missing?’
‘She was only young at the time. Training to be a farm secretary; we met at an NFU do. Her dad had a sheep farm, a few miles this side of the Scottish border. Thankless task — poor sod went bankrupt six months before cancer got him. Deirdre was one of five, the baby of a family that didn’t have two pennies to rub together.’
‘Until you provided a roof over her head?’
‘We didn’t live together until we’d been courting for eighteen months. Things were different in them days, and I bided my time. Once bitten, you know?’ Greg said with feeling, ‘I do know.’
‘Deirdre would come over here to visit, then go back home. Bit by bit, she started staying the night.’
‘How did Niamh react?’
Hinds snorted. ‘She got wind I was seeing Deirdre, not that it was any of her business after she’d run off with Kit Payne.’
‘I bet it didn’t stop her grabbing her pound of flesh in the divorce settlement.’
‘You’re not wrong. She tried to say it wasn’t good for Callum, hanging around here.’
Greg chuckled. ‘When you might be occupied with your girlfriend?’
‘He caught us at it once, admitted.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘Nah, we were on the sofa in the back room.’ Hinds had his eyes on Hannah. The idea of shocking her appealed to him, she thought; he couldn’t resist the temptation to talk. ‘I couldn’t wait to get her upstairs, and we suddenly realised he was watching us through the window.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Greg sounded almost admiring. Hannah realised, not for the first time, that she was very glad not to be a man. Talk about basic instincts. ‘What happened?’
‘Told his sister, the daft sod, and of course she opened her trap to Niamh. I think he’d guessed what he was going to see, but there you go. He wanted an eyeful, and by Christ, he got it. She was a bonny lass, Deirdre, before she started eating too much chocolate cake. Anyroad, that’s teenage lads for you.’
Greg nodded. ‘Yet Niamh reacted badly?’
‘Too fucking right. Hypocritical cow — she was the one who started shagging a businessman whilst she was still married to me. Talk about one law for the rich.’
‘How did she get to know Kit Payne?’
‘I’ve known old man Madsen and his family all my life. Bryan’s stand-offish, doesn’t care to mix with riff-raff like me, but Gareth’s not so bad.’
‘You were students together, weren’t you?’
‘For a year, that’s all. I couldn’t stick the place. Full of posh folk who talked through their arses. They made me sick, but Gareth had a whale of a time. He loves being cock of the walk. Anyroad, he introduced Niamh and me to Payne. I would never have guessed she’d fall for Payne — he’s as ugly as sin. But she hated being a farmer’s wife, and he lent a shoulder for her to cry on.’
‘Money talks, eh?’
‘Yeah, when she broke the news she was running off with Keswick’s answer to Quasimodo, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.’
‘And she used the incident with Deirdre as an excuse to prevent Callum visiting you?’
Hinds’ face darkened. ‘There was no cause for her to take it out on the boy. To stop him from seeing his dad was pure malice.’
‘He kept your surname. That says a lot.’
‘He was made of sterner stuff than Orla, she just wanted everything to be happy ever after. Niamh liked to have things her way; why do you think the kids were given Irish names? I wanted Callum to be christened Eric, after my dad, but she wouldn’t hear of it. But she couldn’t watch over the boy twenty-four hours a day. She and Payne only lived across the field; no way could she stop us seeing each other every now and then.’
Greg nodded. ‘When was the last time you saw your son?’
Hinds frowned. ‘You’ll have read my statement?’
‘At the time Callum disappeared, you said you hadn’t seen him for some time. But was that right? Niamh is dead now, it can’t make any difference.’
‘If it makes no difference, why ask?’
‘We need to be clear about Callum’s movements in the period leading up to his disappearance. The more accurate our information, the better our chance of making sense of what Orla was saying.’
The farmer kicked at a pebble, and sent it skittering across the cobbles. ‘So what if he did come and see me? Where does that get you?’
‘It’s simply a question of building an accurate picture of his movements.’ Greg’s tone was so soothing, Hannah half-expected him to start crooning a lullaby. ‘Did he come here before he visited your brother?’
Hinds scowled. ‘If that’s in your mind, think again. All right, the last time I saw him was the night before he disappeared.’
Well, well, a result. This was what Hannah liked about cold case work. Sometimes, just sometimes, you unearthed treasure trove. Important evidence that had lain buried for years.
Greg’s expression didn’t flicker. He was too smart to give away the excitement he must be feeling. ‘What happened?’
‘I used to make my own beer in those days, and Callum slipped over here after Niamh gave him his tea. He told her he had a headache, and wanted a breath of fresh air. As soon as the coast was clear, he scooted over and we knocked back a few glasses of home brew. He loved the stuff, it had a bit of body to it. Not like the bat’s piss you get served nowadays.’
‘He was only fourteen,’ Hannah said.
Shit, why did I open my big mouth? She should have bitten her tongue. Greg gave her a pained look, and no wonder, after he’d got on to the witness’s wavelength. She edged backwards, in tacit apology.
‘So what? His mother may have been a drunk, but I’m not. It’s all about knowing your limits. He came to no harm with me.’
‘Deirdre wasn’t around?’ Greg asked.
‘After that time he saw her starkers, she made a point of checking when Callum was likely to show up. Not that she’s easily embarrassed, but she drew the line at having a teenage lad gawping at her knockers.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s women for you.’ Hannah felt she had become invisible. If it was punishment for her indiscretion, she could scarcely complain. They were like two mates, bad-mouthing the opposite sex over a pint. ‘Did he tell you he was going to see Philip the following day?’
‘Never mentioned it.’
‘Did Niamh object to him seeing your brother?’
‘Not on your nelly. Shows what sort of a mother she was, uh? Refused to let him visit his own father, yet happy for him to call on an oddball with a brain like mashed potato. Always had a soft spot for Philip, reckoned I was too hard on him.’
‘So what did you and Callum talk about?’
‘Usual sort of stuff. England’s crap batting in the Test match. Carlisle United’s prospects for promotion.’
‘Bonding, eh?’
‘Whatever you like to call it. Father-and-son stuff.’ Hinds glared. He was angry about life’s unfairness, Hannah thought, far more than their intrusion. ‘The boy had his whole life in front of him. He’d had time to forget school and start enjoying his summer holiday. No wonder he was excited.’