Part 28 (2/2)

'They're like the pair of figures in one of those little wooden weather houses,' said Villiers when they came out for a break.

'How do you mean?' asked Cooper.

'You know the kind of thing, where you get a sort of Jack and Jill in Bavarian costume, the woman coming out when it's sunny, the man only when it rains. They're always in and out, turn and turn about. But nothing really changes. It's too predictable.'

'Their stories tally?'

'In every respect,' said Villiers. 'They seem well rehea.r.s.ed to me. Too confident.'

'Most people can't keep up a story for ever, if you keep asking them questions.'

'These two do.'

'Did you ask them what they were doing at the Light House the day after the Pearsons went missing, when the pub was closed for Christmas?' asked Cooper.

'Of course. They say they went up there out of curiosity. They saw all the activity and went to find out what was going on.'

'And that story was consistent too?'

'I'm afraid so, Ben.'

'That's a nuisance,' said Cooper with feeling.

'Sorry.'

'It's not your fault.'

Villiers glanced at her notebook. 'Gullick's alibi for the time of Merritt's death checks out. So does Naylor's. He was working on a job here in Edendale, laying a patio for someone who lives in Buxton Road. It took him and his mate all day.'

'And the pickup?'

'It was parked on the drive at the house, except for when Naylor's workmate went for their fish and chips at lunchtime. It's been examined. There's no sign of any recent damage, so it can't have been Naylor's vehicle that pushed you off the road.'

In the CID room, Cooper's desk was covered in files and reports. He pushed them to one side and surveyed his team. This was the way it always was in a complex inquiry a one step forward and two steps back.

'Anyway, it seems that Aidan Merritt was visiting Mrs Wheatcroft,' he said.

'The old biddy. What did you call her, Ben? The first Mrs Rochester?'

'That's her.'

'But surely they weren't ...?'

'No. He visited her because she was lonely. Simple as that. Mrs Wheatcroft's husband died years ago, and her family rarely visit. That's why she used to spend time at the Light House. She'd worked there as a waitress or barmaid at one time. She felt she knew people, which she doesn't here in Edendale.'

'I always thought it must have taken a lot of effort for her to get up there and back for a drink when there are lots of pubs nearer to where she lives.'

'Yes. It was never about the drink; it was the place and the people. Since the Light House closed, Aidan has been visiting her once or twice a week, just to sit with her and have a cup of tea. He called in at her house on his way home from school.'

'Still, it's a bit odd.'

'Is it?'

'It's not as if she's related to him or anything.'

'True.'

'And you mean to say he never told his wife what he was up to? Why not, if he was just doing a good turn for an old lady?'

'Perhaps he was embarra.s.sed about it. You just said yourself it seemed a bit odd. A lot of people thought Aidan Merritt was odd already. Ian Gullick and his pals would have laughed at him.'

'There's one other thing,' said Villiers.

'Yes?'

'I remember you saying that it all seemed planned, that the delay in a search getting under way for the Pearsons had been worked out, as if someone knew what the police response would be.'

'Yes.'

'Well, who would have been in a better position to know that than a police officer?' she said. She looked round the group, seeming to enjoy their shocked expressions for a moment. 'Or a former police officer.'

'Maurice Wharton?'

'Yes.'

'You think he masterminded the whole thing?'

'I think some of his regular customers looked up to him. I think they would have confided in Wharton, asked his advice, perhaps pleaded with him to help them cover up what they'd done.'

'It would explain why he began that spiral into depression and heavy drinking.'

'What? Do you think Mad Maurice had a guilty conscience?'

'Or he was afraid it would all come out. I bet he had nightmares about one of the people responsible making a mistake and letting something slip. They might have trusted Maurice. But did Maurice trust them?'

'So it's possible Maurice Wharton knew what had happened? Did he help Naylor and Gullick to conceal their crime?'

'Let's ask him.'

But Maurice Wharton was in no condition to answer questions. They found his wife and two children in the day room at the hospice, waiting in that tense, hushed atmosphere that fell in a hospital ward when the worst was expected.

'Can't you leave him alone?' said Nancy. 'What's the point of hara.s.sing the poor man now?'

'I'm sorry.'

'Oh, well. You can sit down for a minute, I suppose. Maurice was happy to talk to you the other day. Somebody different from the same old faces. He quite appreciated your visit.'

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