Delayed & Denied by J. J. Salkeld Page A

clever to have been a copper, they say.’
    ‘I always had a good team round me, that’s all,’ said Hall, smiling.
    ‘I don’t doubt that. But tell me, why are you getting yourself involved in this? I could barely remember this case, to tell you the truth.’
    ‘But you do remember it?’
    ‘I remember that the bloke was guilty, all right. Strangled the wife, dumped her in Loweswater.’
    ‘Crummock Water.’
    ‘Aye, Crummock Water. Then he got the guilts, and told his mate. And before you ask, Jack Lee was totally credible, right from the off. Solid alibi too, not a single crack in it.’
    ‘You mean that he had a solid alibi for the day and night of Sharon Burke’s likely disappearance, don’t you?’
    ‘Aye, but she was due at work the next morning, at eight o’clock sharp. And she never missed a shift, I do remember that. We checked, and she was as reliable as the morning, was that poor lass. But she never showed up that Saturday, did she? And it’s all because that strange bastard had already killed her, that’s why. And he was a right odd one, I tell you. Those dead eyes, and not a flicker of any emotion, even when we charged him.’
     
    Hall took a sip of his drink. ‘I’m not absolutely convinced that she was dead by the next day, I’m afraid. Though I do hear what you say about her attendance record. And I’ve been thinking about that too, as it happens. So I just had Sharon’s attendance record checked for the weeks before her disappearance. My colleague texted me the answer just now, in fact. And you’re right, she didn’t fail to show for any shifts, but she had been off sick twice, one day each time, in the month before she vanished.’
    ‘If you say so. Look, what does it matter? The husband didn’t have a hint of a bloody alibi, never even tried to make one up, and the only possible explanation is that he knew if he made something up we’d catch him in the lie, one way or another. Because, Andy, sometime on that Friday he strangled his wife, and that night he dumped the body in the lake. It’s the only possible explanation.’
     
    Hall smiled his calm, reasonable smile. ‘Not the only explanation, Billy.’
    ‘All right, amaze me. Not that you haven’t already, like.’
    ‘How’s that?’
    ‘You must be the only bloody child-minding detective in the whole country, mate. It’s absolutely ridiculous, is all this. You look like a right dick.’
    ‘I’d explained about Grace on the phone, I thought. But anyway, the reason that Burke had no alibi was actually because he was drugged. Sleeping tablets, most likely.’
    ‘No way. He wasn’t an addict. We tested for that, straight after we nicked him.’
    ‘I said he was drugged, not that he took drugs. His wife gave them to him. We think it was because she was going to meet someone, sometime on that Friday.’
    ‘And we is you and Ray Dixon, I suppose? Takes his turn changing nappies, does he? Anyway, who told you about these mythical drugs? Burke, I suppose.’
    ‘Yes, that’s right.’
    ‘Christ, it’s taken him long enough to come up with that bloody crock of shit.’
    ‘That’s true, but he had his reasons for keeping quiet, all these years.’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Loyalty to his wife, for one. But there’s another likely reason, I think. Perhaps he didn’t even want to admit to himself that his wife was looking to pull the wool over his eyes, just a few days after she’d told him that her affair was over.’
    ‘What affair? We knew something was going on, but we never found out who with.’
    ‘Oh, that. It was a doctor at the hospital. Your team didn’t speak to him at the time, but he’s admitted it to us.’
     
    Billy Wilson’s face had been crimson enough when Hall had arrived, which Hall had put down to blood pressure and sun, but now it was blood red.
    ‘Has he now? And I thought you were only supposed to speak to folk who’d been involved in the original investigation? Isn’t that what was