On the way to Keith Patel’s cottage, James rang DCI Tanner to tell him about his encounter with the reporter.
‘You need to alert the press office, sir,’ he said. ‘They’re going to be asked about the Christmas cards and why we chose not to make them public.’
‘We’ll just tell the truth,’ Tanner replied. ‘We didn’t want to alarm the villagers and cause panic when there was no way of knowing if the threats in them were genuine.’
‘Are you holding another press conference today?’
‘We’ll have to, but there’ll be more to talk about than your case. Would you believe we have another murder on our hands?’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘I wish I was. And it’s right here in Kendal. So we’re being stretched even further now.’
‘What do we know?’
‘A young man yet to be identified. His body was found just over an hour ago next to the river path off Beezon Fields. He was bludgeoned to death late last night or in the early hours of this morning. Too soon to know the circumstances.’
‘That’s all we need,’ James said.
‘My sentiments exactly.’
After hanging up, James told DC Abbott about the body found in Kendal.
‘When I came to Cumbria, I thought I’d be in for a quiet life,’ he said.
Abbott grinned. ‘I’d like a pound for every copper from down south who has said that to me. But what you need to remember is that up here it’s all about peaks and troughs. Even crime. And right now we’re at the top of an almighty frigging peak.’
It was James’s third visit to Keith Patel’s house, and before they reached it he told DC Abbott to brace herself for a hostile reception.
‘The last time I was here he told me to piss off and said he wouldn’t talk to us again unless he had a lawyer with him.’
They arrived at the cottage just as Patel was about to step out. He answered the door wearing a coat, boots and a woollen hat.
‘What in God’s name do you want with me now?’ he said. ‘Surely you lot have got more important things to do than harass me.’
‘Where are you off to, Mr Patel?’ James asked him.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve run out of fags so I’m going to the store.’
‘Well, you’ll have to delay your trip because we need to come in and talk to you.’
‘What for this time?’
‘There’s been another murder, Mr Patel. And it turns out that you were one of the last people to see the victim alive.’
Patel’s jaw dropped, as if a hinge had come loose.
‘Who are you talking about?’ he said.
‘I’m talking about Daniel Curtis. He was stabbed to death last night while walking home from The King’s Head. It would have happened not long after you asked him if he’d molested any young girls lately.’
For a few moments Patel appeared too shocked to speak. As he stared at James, the tendons in his neck became so taut they looked ready to snap.
When he finally spoke, his voice was acidic. ‘This is beyond a fucking joke now. When you were here before you tried to pin those first two murders on me. Now you think I killed that pervert Curtis. Well, I didn’t.’
‘We should discuss this inside,’ James said.
‘But I made it clear last time that I won’t talk to you again without a lawyer.’
‘In that case we’ll have to take you to the station in Kendal and you can call one from there. Or we can arrange for the duty solicitor to represent you.’
The prospect of a trip to Kendal clearly did not appeal to him. He let out a loud breath through his teeth and gave a resigned nod.
‘Bugger that,’ he said. ‘I’ve got nothing to hide so come in and let’s get this over with.’
He took off his coat and hat and they followed him into the living room.
‘This is Detective Constable Abbott,’ James said when they were all seated.
Patel didn’t even look at her. Instead, he maintained eye-contact with James, and said, ‘It’s true I had a dig at Daniel Curtis when he stood next to me in the pub. I couldn’t resist it. The guy was a nonce and he wasn’t welcome in this village. It annoyed us all that he kept on coming back. But when Martha suggested I leave that’s what I did. And I came straight home.’
‘Did anyone see you?’ James said.
‘Not likely. It was late and most of my neighbours don’t do late.’
‘Did you have any run-ins with Daniel in the past?’ DC Abbott asked him.
‘I threw the occasional insult his way,’ he said. ‘But it was never more than that.’
‘And was Daniel one of the people you hold responsible for your mother’s death?’
The muscles around his eyes tightened a little. ‘Not at all. He didn’t know Mum, but she knew about his antics so she would not have let him anywhere near her house, even if he was her only option.’
The more questions they put to him the more irritable he became. His breath was coming in fast, high-pitched gasps and the tension showed in his features.
When James asked him if they could search the house, he expected Patel to start yelling for a lawyer. But he surprised them by shrugging his shoulders.
It should have been a job for a forensic team but James didn’t know how long it would take them to show up. He told Abbott to search upstairs while he checked the kitchen and living room. But it didn’t take them long to decide there was either nothing to find, or Patel had got rid of anything that would tie him to one or all three murders.
‘We’ll probably want to talk to you again, Mr Patel,’ James said. ‘And we may want to carry out a more thorough search of your property.’
‘Well, next time I won’t be so accommodating and you’ll have to go through a solicitor,’ Patel said.
Before leaving the cottage, he agreed to provide them with a DNA swab and gave them a glass covered with his fingerprints.