Free A Dreadful Murder by Minette Walters Page A

over Taylor’s notes. ‘There’s a sighting of Blaine near Frankfield Park . . . two or three witnesses claiming that Blaine and Farrell go poaching together . . . and someone who says he knows Farrell wasn’t at home on the 24th.’ He shook his head. ‘We can’t arrest them on this.’
    ‘Not for murder,’ Taylor agreed, ‘but Will Farrell’s scared out of his wits. I might be able to crack him if we can bring him in on a poaching charge.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘By persuading him that whoever fired the second shot isn’t guilty of murder. You can’t kill someone who’s already dead.’
    Warde frowned. ‘That’s no defence in law. If there were two of them, they were jointly to blame for what happened.’
    ‘But Will might avoid the noose if he gives us Blaine. A good barrister will argue that he only fired because he was afraid Blaine would kill him if he refused.’
    ‘How do you know it was Blaine who shot first?’
    ‘I don’t, but I can’t see him taking orders from a seventeen-year-old. Michael Blaine’s a much stronger character than Will Farrell. If Michael hadn’t wanted Mrs Luard dead, the murder wouldn’t have happened.’
    Warde toyed with the pages of the notebook. ‘It’s a good theory,’ he said, ‘but that’s all it is. What if you’re wrong?’
    Taylor opened his tobacco pouch. ‘The case will never be solved,’ he said, smoothing a cigarette paper on the table. ‘We’re out of leads and out of ideas.’
    * * *
    It wasn’t in Henry Warde’s nature to make a decision in a hurry. As the next day was Sunday – and all good people would be in church – he said he’d use the rest of the weekend to think about it.
    He was worried about the political fallout if Taylor’s plan backfired. The newspapers would have a field day if the Kent Police arrested a youth on a trumped-up charge for the sole purpose of getting him to confess to a crime he didn’t commit.
    Perhaps Taylor should have insisted, but he’d learnt by now that it was better to let Warde reach a decision for himself. And, in truth, he was as keen to have a day off as the Chief Constable. He caught the last train to London to spend twenty-four hours with his wife and children, and quelled any doubts that his suspects would vanish.
    The news that both Blaine and Farrell had been absent from their homes since Saturday night greeted him when he arrived at Warde’s office on Monday morning. The Chief Constable was surprisingly cheerful about it. He took their flight as proof of guilt and told Taylor it was only a matter of time before they were caught.
    Taylor had no such certainty. He helped draw up descriptions for the neighbouring police forces, but it was a fine example of closing the stable door after the horse had bolted. With a start of thirty-six hours, the youths had had plenty of time to disappear.
    It was Taylor’s view that they’d have gone to ground in London. And he knew there was little chance of finding them in the cramped and crowded tenements of Whitechapel or Blackfriars.
    With no evidence to support Taylor’s theory – and in face of Mrs Blaine’s and Mrs Farrell’s continued insistence that both youths had been at home on the day of the murder – Kent Police posted them as ‘wanted for poaching’ and kept their real reason for being interested in the pair to themselves.
    The second inquest into Mrs Luard’s death was held a few days later in the George & Dragon. It ended as the first had done, without a verdict. But this time it was Henry Warde who was to blame. Convinced that Blaine and Farrell would be found, he told the Coroner that Kent Police expected to make an arrest before the week was out and asked for another delay.
    It was a mistake.
    When no arrest happened, the gossips busied themselves on why the Chief Constable of Kent had wanted to silence the Coroner yet again. Suspicion deepened when it became public knowledge that Major-General Luard was leaving Ightham for good on 16