Free Cherringham--A Fatal Fall by Matthew Costello Page B

village, and a couple of nuns from the convent that lay in the woods.
    He didn’t recognise the nuns, though he’d had business at St. Francis’s Convent a while back when the previous priest had died in mysterious circumstances.
    But for these few congregants praying quietly at the back, the church was empty.
    Apart from the occupant of the cheap coffin that lay on trestles just feet away.
    Jack heard the creak of the church door being opened. He turned to look.
    A woman had entered. Coat, scarf and hat pulled tight. She didn’t genuflect and slipped into the rearmost pew.
    Hard to make out — but she looked young, with dark hair.
    Jack turned back and faced the priest, who stood now at the altar, continuing the service.
    Now we’re getting somewhere, he thought.
    He knew exactly who that woman was …
    Even wrapped up in that scarf, there was no doubt about it — she had to be the girl in the photo.
    She’d turned up to the funeral. She and Dylan had been tight. He must surely have talked to her about the site, his worries, what he was up to.
    What he had discovered that maybe got him killed.
    All Jack had to do was talk to her after the service.
    The priest announced a hymn. Jack picked up his hymn book and prepared to sing, his thoughts not on the hymn, or the service, or even McCabe …
    But instead, the mystery girl at the back of the church.

14. A Winter’s Morning
    When the service was over, Jack emerged from the church at the end of the line of coffin bearers — he couldn’t see the girl anywhere.
    She’d disappeared.
    He walked out onto the road that led up to Cherringham, checked both ways — but couldn’t see her.
    Then he slipped around the back of the church into the graveyard and looked out across the snow-covered fields, but there was no sign of her.
    The girl had vanished into thin air.
    He returned to the front of the church where the coffin was being loaded by pall-bearers into the hearse. He nodded to Ray and Kevin who were both huddled against the cold wind smoking roll-ups.
    Maybe the girl had gone ahead, to the crematorium? Kevin had told him that was the next stop, way over in Cheltenham.
    Jack hadn’t intended to continue — but if there was the slightest chance she was there, he was going to have to.
    But then his phone rang.
    “Sarah.”
    “Jack — service over?”
    “Yep.”
    “Okay. I’ve been going through Gary Sparks’ emails — still got more to do, but I thought you should know this right away. I’ve got the name of the other person on the site using a false ID.”
    “Go on …”
    “Viktor Lupei. Mean anything?”
    “Does indeed. There was a Viktor the other night at the Ploughman’s — could be the same. You got a nationality?”
    “He’s down as Romanian — but that could be false too.”
    “No, that makes sense — I’ll check with Kevin and Ray, they’re both here.”
    “Also — something … Not sure if it’s anything …”
    “Tell me.”
    “There’s an email thread between Sparks and Winters. Very cautious. Winters telling Gary to ‘just do as he’s told’, Sparks getting nervous. Then Winters says — ‘no emails, we need to talk’. It’s dated the morning Dylan died.”“Might have nothing to do with Dylan,” he said.
    “Or it might …”
    His instincts told him Sarah could well be right.
    He looked over at the hearse which was about to drive away.
    “Sarah — you got an address for Viktor?”
    “Amber Flats — it’s up by the station.”
    “Okay. Ray will know where that is,” he said. “I think it’s worth checking out. Ring me if you find anything more.”
    He shut his phone, then went over to Ray and Kevin, knowing what he’d do next.
    “You guys going to the crematorium?” said Jack.
    “Seems right,” said Kevin.
    “That’s good of you,” said Jack. “Do me a favor would you, Kevin? I’m still trying to track Dylan’s girlfriend — and I think she might turn up there. Call me if she does, would