Kate left her comment hanging, carefully watching the interaction between the smallholder and his wife. A worried exchange. The DCI formed the impression that they’d already had that conversation, argued over it even. It explained the tension she felt when she entered the house. The victim’s heartfelt note arrived in her head. It would act as her driver from this point on, compelling her to ask the hard questions, the ones witnesses would rather not answer.
She wouldn’t hold back.
Swallowing her anger, she focused on the smallholder. ‘Every action has consequences, Mr Shepherd. If you tell one person, you may as well put it on social media or stand in Eldon Square with a megaphone. People can’t help themselves. Gossip makes the world go around. The woman you knew as Helen was vulnerable, living alone in the back of beyond. Now she’s dead. I need the full names and contact details of anyone you told.’
Shepherd hung his head in shame, then raised it again. ‘I mentioned it to one or two down The Bull. It’s on the main road south, you can’t miss it. The place is on its last legs. Very few get in there.’ He rattled off three names. Hank wrote them down. Shepherd claimed not to have telephone numbers for any of them. Allegedly, he didn’t like using the phone.
‘We’d also like your son’s details,’ Hank said.
‘You think I’m lying?’
‘No, sir. It’s standard procedure.’
Shepherd was angry. ‘To corroborate what I told you? That’s how it works, isn’t it?’
‘Jack, calm down!’ Peggy said. ‘They’re just doing their job.’
Ignoring his wife, Shepherd got up and walked towards the fireplace. At the centre of the mantelpiece was an antique wooden letter rack stuffed with what looked unopened post. He took his son’s business card from it, handing it to Kate, asking if she could wait till morning to establish that he was where he said he was.
He remained standing, his back to the fire.
‘Please don’t bother him. Our daughter-in-law is in hospital after giving birth.’
He’d made no secret of the fact that he wanted the detectives gone. Kate had more questions. Slipping the card into her coat pocket, she moved on. ‘Can I ask how Helen paid you?’
‘Cash,’ Shepherd said bluntly. ‘I suppose you want that too.’
Kate caught the unexpected tell immediately. He’d had plenty of time to bank the cash. If, as he claimed, he’d been robbed, why hang onto it? She might benefit from this. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll return it.’
‘That’s good to know, Inspector. We’ve struggled the last couple of years.’
‘I understand.’ Just how hard up was he? He should’ve have kept his gob shut. He was incriminating himself every time he opened it. ‘If you could show DS Gormley where it is, without touching it, I’d be grateful.’
With his back turned, Kate eyed the letter rack, wondered if she was looking at unpaid bills. Had someone offered him money to take his wife and make himself scarce?
More to the point, had he taken it?
Shepherd opened the sideboard drawer, indicating a brown envelope.
‘Did it come in this?’ Hank asked.
‘Yes.’
Hank put on gloves, took the money out and dropped it into an evidence bag Kate handed to him. She was betting that the retired smallholder wouldn’t declare the cash as income. Fortunately for him, she had more important things on her mind to worry over it.
‘Did Helen choose the van or did you?’ she asked as Shepherd sat down.
‘Why do you need to know?’
‘Just answer the question,’ Hank said. ‘The sooner we get this done, the sooner we’ll be on our way.’
Shepherd looked at his wife. ‘Peggy?’
‘Helen did,’ she said.
Kate thought for a long moment, wondering if Helen’s choice was significant, a memory of a happier time in her life, a family holiday perhaps. Given her expensive tastes, the DCI didn’t think it likely, but it was important to cover all the bases. The Shepherds wouldn’t necessarily recognise Helen if she’d been there as child. Still, it was worth a punt.
‘Had either of you seen Helen before?’
‘Not that I recall,’ Shepherd said.
Kate switched her attention to his wife. ‘Mrs Shepherd?’
‘No, I’d have remembered.’
‘Did she ever mention that she was familiar with the area or had been here before?’
‘No, she kept herself to herself.’
‘When did you last see her?’
‘She drove by yesterday,’ Shepherd said.
‘Coming or going?’
‘Coming.’
‘Any idea how long she’d been out?’ Hank asked.
‘No, sorry. I was out myself fixing the boundary fence.’
‘Another break-in?’ Hank asked.
‘No, it’s been down for months, way before Helen arrived. People park on the main road and cut across our land to the beach from there. There’s no right of way, but it happens all the time. We don’t mind so long as they keep to the path at the bottom of the pasture and don’t discard their litter.’
Kate asked: ‘Did Helen use the path to the beach?’
‘Yes, a lot,’ Peggy said.
That didn’t surprise Kate. They were so close to the shoreline, they could almost touch it. Helen would be spoiled for choice, the small fishing village of Craster to the south, the spectacular ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle to the north. Kate had heard the North Sea angrily crashing to shore, bringing bad weather inland as she’d stumbled along the dirt road from the crime scene.
‘When you saw Helen drive in earlier, what time was it?’ she asked.
‘Around two as usual—’
‘As usual?’
Peggy glanced at her husband, then at Kate. ‘We’d noticed that she seemed to have a routine. She’d go out at the same time every day, around noon. She was like clockwork. We came to the conclusion that she was collecting pre-ordered groceries, except I never saw her take any shopping from her car. Maybe she was eating out, popping out for a newspaper. I’m not sure.’
Or perhaps meeting someone, Kate thought. If that person was Aaron, a two-hour window meant that he wasn’t far away. ‘And tonight? What did you notice about tonight, before you went out?’
Shepherd shrugged, as if he didn’t understand the question.
‘Nothing unusual,’ Peggy said. ‘No comings or goings, if that’s what you mean. Helen never ventured out after dark, which I found a bit odd for a young woman. Understandable at our age. At hers, I was never in, were you?’ The question was rhetorical. ‘And another thing I found curious. There was never anything in her rubbish bin. I mentioned it once and she didn’t answer. I guess she had her reasons for bagging it up and dumping it off-site. We didn’t pry, Inspector . . .’ Her voice broke. ‘We wish we had.’
‘Have either of you received any enquiries about her?’
Both denied it, vehemently.
‘OK, nearly done. Have you rented out any other caravans during the closed season? While Helen has been here, I mean.’
‘No, this is the first time ever and it’ll be the last . . .’ Shepherd’s bottom lip began to quiver. He bit down on it, his face pained with regret. ‘I couldn’t live with myself if it turns out that my actions led to her death . . .’
Kate felt sorry for him. ‘No one is accusing you of anything, sir.’
‘With respect, that’s not how it feels.’ He stalled, wiping his face with both hands. ‘She was such a wee thing. She didn’t engage much. On the occasions she did she was polite and lovely. When she first got in touch, she was upset. I could hear the desperation in her voice. It wasn’t about the money. I gave her refuge because it was no skin off my nose . . . because I knew she was in trouble and because we’ve been there before. Our Zoe got in with the wrong crowd when she was a young ’un and paid the price.’
‘Is that why you took the shotgun with you?’ Hank asked. ‘Because Helen might be in danger?’
A nod. ‘I’d have used it too.’
Kate had no doubt he was telling the truth. ‘Do you have a licence, Mr Shepherd?’
‘Of course.’
‘A secure cabinet?’
‘I do.’
‘Then maybe you should use it.’
A resigned nod. ‘Are we in danger?’
Kate hoped not. ‘I doubt that, but I’ll leave an officer here overnight. Last question. Did either of you see Helen with a laptop, bag or mobile phone?’
‘We never went into the van,’ Shepherd said, ‘though Peggy used to take her eggs once a week, the occasional loaf of bread if she was baking. Helen must’ve had a mobile. If she needed her LPG bottle exchanged, she rang us and left cash on the step to pay for it. She never came inside or asked to use the telephone. Our conversations were brief. She gave nothing away. I did tell her that if she was ever in any trouble, or needed our help, she could contact us, day or night.’
‘And what was her response?’
‘Same as always . . . noncommittal.’
Thanking them for their cooperation, Kate stood up. ‘We’ll let ourselves out. An officer will be here in the morning to take a full statement and a search team will require access to outbuildings. We’ll take possession of the gate. I’ve already made arrangements to uplift the caravan.’
Shepherd was welling up.
‘Don’t bring it back,’ he said.