Bank statements had been neatly stored in a plastic folder. Correspondence from various insurance companies and accountants, all filed in colour-coordinated binders, had spines with their contents clearly marked. Drake stopped at the latest set of accounts for Trainor’s writing business, surprised at his meagre income.
A separate buff folder had correspondence from the Bible College of Wales, which piqued Drake’s interest. He read about the pastoral training course that Jack Trainor had started. Letters from the principal suggested that his vocation lay elsewhere and the comments were veiled with criticisms about Jack’s attitude to the tutors and the other students. Drake scooped up the telephone and called the college.
He left his office and headed out through the Incident Room announcing to Caren, ‘I’m going to interview the principal of the Bible College of Wales in Bangor. Apparently Jack had been a student.’
‘I’ve spoken to a dozen people whose numbers were in Denise’s mobile telephone. And I’ve left a message with three more including her hairdresser and man called Malcolm Brown who had a very posh accent on his voicemail message.’
‘Did they have anything to add that we don’t already know?’
Caren shrugged. ‘They were mostly acquaintances or students.’
Before Drake reached the door Caren asked, ‘Perhaps I could interview Lamont again while you visit the college?’
‘What …? Yes, of course.’
Drake left as Caren scrambled to her feet.
10.29 am
Bangor had become a town dominated by its university, and the red-bricked house occupied by the Bible College of Wales had a prominent location overlooking the Menai Strait. In the distance, Drake could see the seaside town of Beaumaris and Puffin Island.
The black painted door creaked open, Drake stepped into the hallway and walked over to the reception, pieces of the parquet flooring creaking against each other. The receptionist read his card and smiled before punching a number into the telephone on her desk. Moments later a heavily built man in his late sixties walked in. He had a large beard and slight stoop. He shook Drake warmly by the hand as though he had been the first person he’d seen all day. ‘Michael Lane. I’m the principal here. You’re enquiring about Jack Trainor?’
Drake nodded.
‘Follow me.’
An electric radiator failed to warm the tall-ceilinged room. Drake stared at the chaos on the desk, unable to comprehend how someone could work in such circumstances. Lane only had a small area to work on, the rest was covered in books stacked one on top of another.
‘You’ve probably heard about the death of Jack Trainor?’
Lane nodded energetically.
‘I understand he was a student here?’
Lane dumped his forearms on the desk and leant over towards Drake. ‘Several years ago he thought he had a calling from God to train as a pastor. Our training here is entirely Bible-based, Inspector. I knew a bit about his background. His father was very troubled.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He came from a very strict Catholic background which in Wales is quite unusual. His father was a bully who treated Jack badly.’
‘Why didn’t he complete his training?’
Lane sighed. ‘Very few of our students don’t complete the training course. We believe everybody has a contribution to make to God’s work. But it was clear Jack wasn’t suited to a pastoral role.’
‘We suspect he might have killed his wife and then committed suicide.’
Lane shook his head. ‘It would surprise me.’
‘That he could murder his wife?’
Lane curled his lips. ‘Only God can see into a man’s heart, Inspector. Jack could be short-tempered and, yes, I suppose he could have committed murder if provoked. But I was thinking about what you said about suicide. His Catholic upbringing left him with a profound sense that suicide was a sin. Sadly one of our students killed himself while Jack was a student and at the time he made his feelings very clear that the man hadn’t sought salvation.’
Drake realised his initial reaction, to suspect that Jack may not have killed himself, might well be right. It meant they had to know a lot more about him.
‘Did you ever meet Denise Trainor?’
‘No, I’m sorry.’
Drake got up to leave. ‘Thank you for your help.’
Lane walked with Drake to the front door. Drake turned to him. ‘What do you tell a man who’s contemplating suicide?’
‘That life is for living and God loves you.’
Lane shook Drake warmly by the hand. As he walked back to his car his mobile rang and he recognised Caren’s number. ‘You need to get back here, sir. We’ve found witnesses who were on the mountain.’
Chapter 6
30th September
2.29 pm
The conference room felt crowded. Caren sat next to Drake. Across from both of them sat four healthy-looking individuals. The introductions meant a confusing assortment of hands being shaken and names being exchanged. Caren opened a large ordnance survey sheet that covered Cwm Idwal and the Glyderau mountain range. She smoothed the folds with an exaggerated gesture. It occurred to Drake that getting the group to sit in alphabetical order from left to right would be the simplest way for him to remember their names.
Caren asked her first question. ‘You think you might be able to help us with our inquiry into the deaths of Denise and Jack Trainor?’
George spoke first. He sat on the extreme left and was probably the oldest. ‘We’d walked to the top of Glyder Fach. We didn’t hear about the … deaths, until I spotted something on the BBC website.’ Drake stared at him trying to embed his name in his mind. ‘Sunrise was 6.59 that morning.’
‘You must have started out very early.’
Kate, sitting next to him, nodded, her ponytail flopping around. Robert, sitting between her and Jennifer, made the next contribution. ‘Next year we’re aiming to do all the peaks over three thousand feet in Snowdonia in twenty-four hours. So Monday was a training session for us.’
Jennifer smiled at him.
Kate piped up next. ‘We’re all from Chester so we stayed at a bed-and-breakfast the night before. We got to the car park near Cwm Idwal a little before seven. We took a couple of hours to get to the summits of Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach.’
‘It’s quite a scramble at one stage,’ Jennifer said.
‘Did you see many other people on the mountain?’ Drake said.
George continued. ‘We didn’t see anybody when we ascended. We didn’t expect to see anybody – it was really early.’
Robert cut in. ‘We stopped for something to eat when we reached the summit.’
Drake interrupted. ‘Denise and Jack Trainor’s bodies were found at the bottom of the Devil’s Kitchen in Cwm Idwal. Glyder Fawr is thousands of feet above the cwm.’
‘We didn’t see anything in the cwm, Inspector. We thought you might be interested in what we saw at the top of the Devil’s Kitchen.’
Drake sat back, realising he had to be patient. Robert stood up and leant over the table. He had a highlighter pen in one hand and as he spoke he tapped the map so that Drake and Caren could see exactly where he was referring to.
‘We were descending from Glyder Fawr to traverse round up to the next two peaks. As we were about halfway down we spotted somebody standing by that small lake at the top of the Devil’s Kitchen.’
Drake leant forward. ‘Did you see where the person went?’
Robert stared down at the map. ‘When we reached the lake there was no sign. So he or she must have gone down into Cwm Idwal because we didn’t see anybody ahead of us as we walked.’
Caren stopped making notes and interjected. ‘Could this person have taken another path?’
George replied as Robert sat back into his chair. ‘It’s possible he could have walked down towards Nant Peris. We weren’t paying that much attention. It wasn’t until we saw the news reports we realised what we saw might have been
important.’
Caren spoke again. ‘Do you remember anything about this person? Was it a woman or a man?’
Heads were shaking across the table.
‘What about the colour of their clothing?’
George made a vague shrug and Jennifer cleared her throat. ‘It was red. I’d been thinking of changing my jacket and I’ve seen a red one I like.’
‘And the person had a full set of walking poles,’ Kate added.
‘So, it was a serious walker?’ Drake said.
‘Lots of people use walking poles these days, Inspector,’ George said.
Drake paused, gathered his thoughts and looked down at the map on the conference table. It was frustrating that the group of walkers had been too far away to make a proper description possible. Despite the logical explanation that Jack had committed suicide after killing his wife, Drake sensed Jack’s upbringing and religious beliefs made suicide improbable. And he couldn’t shake off the thought that Jack would have been the sort to have left a note. At least they knew someone else had been on the mountain. Drake had to keep an open mind on the possibility that this person had been responsible for the murder of Jack Trainor.
5.45pm
Superintendent Price snorted his disbelief down the telephone handset at some comment Drake couldn’t hear. Then he rolled his eyes at Drake, feigning surprise. Once he had finished he replaced the telephone with a flourish. ‘Do you know Superintendent Jones from Western Division?’ He didn’t wait for Drake to reply. ‘He’s just caught out the bean counters from Cardiff making a mistake with his budget. He gave them a piece of his mind.’
Price drew himself nearer the desk, and stared over at Drake. ‘How is the inquiry progressing?’
Drake summarised the new eyewitness evidence; Price nodded encouragingly.
‘It might be time to organise a press conference and appeal for witnesses,’ Drake said.
‘Realistically, Ian, how many people were on the mountain that morning?’
‘It’s difficult to tell, sir. That’s why we might raise the profile.’
‘But what are the chances of identifying a walker with a red jacket? I think I’ve got two myself.’
Drake paused; he knew the likely obstacles.
Price continued. ‘Have you seen the preliminary forensics report?’
Drake nodded. The crime scene investigators must have emailed the report to Price as well, Drake guessed.
‘I’m sorry, Ian, but I can’t have resources wasted on pursuing some phantom mountain walker.’
‘Jack Trainor had strong religious views, sir. He would have considered suicide a mortal sin.’
‘So you think there was someone else on the mountain. An unknown somebody who killed Jack Trainor. What could be the motive? For Christ sake, Ian you need a motive.’
‘We know that Jack Trainor believed his wife was having an affair—’
‘So the lover follows them up the mountain and when he sees Trainor killing his wife then throws Trainor to his death. Come off it, Ian that’s stretching it.’
A part of him wanted to agree with the superintendent, complete the paperwork for the coroner and then file the papers away. As it was his first case he wasn’t certain how far it might be prudent to push his proposal of a press conference. So he suggested a compromise.
‘We’ll need to complete all the inquiries for the coroner’s court. I want to make certain we’ve identified any eyewitnesses who could help.’
Price pondered. Drake could see the superior officer calculating how best to respond. Eventually, he nodded. ‘I don’t think we need a press conference. That’s going over the top. Get the PR department to draft a press release announcing that we’re looking for a hiker with a red jacket and asking for any eyewitnesses to come forward.’ He opened the palms of his hands, emphasising the futility of the whole exercise.
‘I’ll get something organised in the morning.’ Drake stood up and made to leave.
‘Keep me posted.’
Drake nodded although he suspected Price was more informed than he was about the post mortem and the forensics report.
Drake returned to the Incident Room. Caren had her coat on, car keys in hand.
‘How did you get on with George Lamont?’
‘He admits trying it on with Denise when she first joined the department but he realised soon enough that she wasn’t interested. He flatly denied that he favoured her: said that any such suggestion was just petty jealousy.’
‘Did you ask him where he was when Denise was killed?’
Caren nodded. ‘In the gym and, before you ask, I did check there. One of the staff remembers seeing him.’
‘So he definitely wasn’t on top of the Devil’s Kitchen. And have you made progress with Denise’s sister?’
‘Not yet—’
‘For Christ sake, Caren. We need to find her.’
‘The officers who called at her home emailed telling me that she had moved. They’ve got another address. And the university were very unhelpful.’
‘Tell the officers it’s urgent.’
Once Caren had left, Drake sat down and stared at the map they had used earlier. Caren had coloured in the Glyderau mountain peaks and circled Cwm Idwal with a yellow highlighter. If there had been a walker descending into the cwm Drake knew they needed to speak to him. He persuaded himself again that the coroner would expect them to interview all possible eyewitnesses. The prospect he had forgotten something or overlooked some vital clue worried him so he walked back into his office and started on the paperwork again.
The walkers had mentioned a red jacket.
He recalled then that John Scott had a red jacket. Coincidence? He decided that another interview with Scott was needed.
Then he read again Jack Trainor’s diary, picturing him in his study scribbling an entry. Drake wondered, if he was contemplating suicide then why hadn’t he left a note. Surely he would have wanted to offer an explanation?
An hour later his mobile rang. It was Sian. ‘Where the hell are you?’
‘I’m at work.’ He made it sound incredulous that he might be anywhere else.
‘Do you know the time?’
He glanced at the clock on the monitor.
‘It’s time you were home.’
He straightened the papers on his desk, rearranging them repeatedly until satisfied they were in the right order. By the door he reached for his suit jacket, giving the desk one more glance before leaving. It was a short drive home.
Sian gave him a tight-lipped smile. ‘You’re late.’ She gave him a perplexed frown. ‘The girls are already in bed. You should go and read to them.’
Drake watched Sian as she walked back into the kitchen. Her blond hair brushed the cashmere cardigan she wore over the trousers that flattered her slim build. After reading to Helen and Megan he joined Sian as she prepared their dinner. A bottle of Pinot Grigio was open on the table. He filled a glass and sat down.
‘I thought this was a straightforward case,’ Sian said.
‘We need to check everything.’
‘I wish sometimes you could relax more. I don’t want you to become one of those jaded detectives who spends all his time in the police station and forgets about his family.’
Neither did Drake. But he had sensed his mind insisting that he had to do everything properly and as it was his first murder inquiry he had to get things done correctly.
Sian reached for two plates in a cupboard. She drained the pasta.
‘I don’t want your work to affect us as a family. You will promise me that?’
‘Of course. It’s just that this is my first case.’
‘I know.’
‘It will be closed quite soon and the coroner will have to decide what happened.’
Drake took a mouthful of the chilled wine. Sian came over and plonked a plate of pasta in front of him. He asked about her day at the doctor’s surgery where she worked part-time as a partner, an arrangement that suited the family.
Her morning had been busy and her afternoon spent visiting her mother before collecting the children. As Sian continued to speak about her day and Drake finished the last of his chicken carbonara, his mind wandered back to the picture of a walker in a red jacket.
And also to the prospect of interviewing John Scott again.
Chapter 7
1st October
08.29 am
‘There must be thousands of red jackets.’ Sally Jones gave Drake a pained look.
Auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders in long curls. She kept pushing her spectacles to the top of her nose as though a blob of oil dragged them downwards. The public relations department had three rooms on the first floor of headquarters alongside the legal department. Two monitors stood on her desk and Drake wondered why one wouldn’t be enough. He cast a surreptitious glance and could see one of the screens displayed a continuous newsfeed.
‘Superintendent Price doesn’t want to organise a press conference,’ Drake said. ‘But we need to trace a possible witness walking on the mountain on the morning Denise and Jack Trainor died.’
Jones squinted over at him. ‘What was the weather like? It was probably cold and damp.’
‘Have you been up to the Cwm Idwal?’
Jones shook her head in disgust at such a prospect.
Drake read the time, guessing Caren would be waiting for him. He made to leave. ‘Send me a draft press release.’
He left a scowling Jones and threaded his way back through headquarters. Caren was waiting for him in the Incident Room. He paced over to the board and looked at the images of Jack Trainor. ‘John Scott has a red jacket.’
Devil's Kitchen_An Inspector Drake Prequel Novella Page 4
