‘If you wish.’

‘It’s about work.’

‘I thought it might be.’

‘Cretinism. What is it?’

‘Umm…’ The woman inclined her head to one side, in the manner that Hennessey had found was the way of it when learned persons speak with authority…the pause which speaks of knowledge. He had rapidly learned to be cautious when dealing with people who profess to have knowledge at their fingertips. ‘Well, it’s not to be confused with dwarfism, though in the adult it appears much the same. Whereas dwarfism is congenital, cretinism sets in at the onset of puberty, and in essence it’s caused by an underactive thyroid gland. People who suffer from cretinism start out normally and then stop growing. The condition was for a long time associated with mental deficiency, but that was only because cretins were dismissed and not educated. Cretinism doesn’t affect brain functioning. There’s no reason why a cretin can’t become an intellectual wizard.’

‘Hence the use of the word as an insult or term of abuse.’

‘Yes…it has that same punchy quality as “spastic”, which is also a distinct medical condition. Spasticity, though, is still with us. Cretinism can be cured, we can stimulate the thyroid gland and enable the person to grow normally. Originally the treatment was at the expense of the person’s sex drive, but we’ve cracked that one now and normal growth in all areas is possible. Why do you ask?’

‘Just a development in the Williams murder case. I spoke to Yellich, he’d been in Malton all day. He came back with some very interesting information which gelled with what I had found out during the day.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes…it’s something that has crept in round the edge of the affair. It’s probably not central. Found a good pub today, by the way…out by Knaresborough way, the Dog and Duck, excellent ploughman’s, just ideal for our occasional lunchtime rendezvous.’

‘Well…’ She paused. ‘It’s gone quiet up there…shall we go up?’

Hennessey took a mug from the kitchen to fill with water in the bathroom because he found that he invariably became thirsty in the night.

‘Funny,’ she whispered, plucking up her long and thinly cut skirt as she climbed the stairs.

‘What is?’ hissed Hennessey.

‘How once you were afraid of your parents, and no sooner you’ve stopped being afraid of them, you become frightened of your children,’ Louise D’Acre explained.

Saturday

…in which Nicola Williams catches the last bus and Chief Inspector Hennessey comes across a date which has personal significance.

‘It’s not on, Hennessey, it’s just not on. It’s your neck, not mine. The Chief Constable wants a reply, so what do I tell him?’

‘Excuse me, sir.’ Hennessey stood in front of the man’s desk. ‘But I was not harassing him. Yellich went to his house and spoke to his wife.’

‘That’s not what Mr Richardson’s solicitor has told the CC. If you’re harassing anybody it weakens the case, you know that, apart from it being unlawful. What have you got on Richardson, anyway?’

‘Quite a lot. Motive, possible implication with an earlier murder with a similar MO. I’ve made a case with less.’

‘And he’s in the cells now?’

‘Yes, sir. As is Sheringham, who for my money is the prime suspect, but I’m not dismissing Richardson.’

Commander Sharkey reclined in his seat. A framed photograph on the wall showed Sharkey in an army officer’s uniform, a second showed him in the uniform of an officer in the Royal Hong Kong Police, now he was a commander in the City of York Police. He’d done well for a man in his forties, younger than Hennessey, and Hennessey couldn’t take that from him.

‘Sheringham, you see, is a smug piece of work but frightened of his wife, and he has motivation to murder both Mr and Mrs Williams.’

‘He has?’

‘They were both going to blow a whistle on him. Max Williams was involved in a drug scam, he was funding a huge purchase of anabolic steroids and seemed to be getting cold feet and may have been about to turn Queen’s evidence against Sheringham. Mrs Williams was threatening to expose his marital infidelity. That’s motivation enough. The other point is that they are both known to each other, they work out at Sheringham’s Gym and are known to be drinking partners.’

‘A conspiracy, you think?’

‘I wouldn’t rule it out, sir. And apart from them both having a motivation to murder Max Williams, they are both very strong, very fit men, quite capable of digging the shallow grave within the hours of darkness. In fact, they’d make short shrift of it. Very short shrift, despite the fact that the soil is baked hard and would be as solid as if it were frozen.’

‘But you’re still lacking the vital link in the evidential chain, are you not?’

‘We’ve still to quiz both of them again, sir. But yes, the vital link is missing, which is why we haven’t charged them.’

‘Why the call on Mrs Richardson in the first place?’

‘Just to take a measure of the lady, and also following up a point made by Sergeant Yellich who felt that the sanitizing of the crime scene had a woman’s touch about it.’

Sharkey raised an eyebrow.

‘Look, sir, we’re trying to solve a murder here. No, we’re not, we’re trying to solve a double murder and I for one have no time for political correctness at a time like this. Especially as there is such a thing as a woman’s touch, more care, more attention to detail, and, as Yellich said, Williams has ruined Mrs Richardson’s livelihood too.’

‘Alibi, for her?’

‘None. Neither she nor her husband nor Sheringham have an alibi for the time of the murder, nor for the time of the likely disposal of the bodies.’

‘All right, George, that gives me something to tell the< CC.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘This is a high-profile case, George. The CC wants a result.’

‘Understood, sir.’

‘But a safe result. A secure conviction. So please proceed with caution.’

Hennessey knew he was getting old when constables looked young, but this was ridiculous. A schoolgirl, a child…still slight and frail of build, still awkward, yet she was a Mrs, a married woman. She had rings on her finger which said so and she was a solicitor. Monica Have. She announced herself to the room for the purposes of the tape recording as Monica Have of the firm Have and…

Hold, thought Hennessey, or perhaps Have-not.

But the woman said, ‘Scarborough, of York.’

Hennessey wrote ‘Have and Scarborough, solicitors, York’ on his pad.

Yellich said, ‘I am Detective Sergeant Yellich, City of York Police.’

‘Mr Richardson…’ prompted Hennessey. ‘For the tape.’

‘Michael Richardson,’ he said resentfully.

‘Right, Mr Richardson. You knew Mr Max Williams?’

Hennessey asked the questions, Yellich observed acutely.

‘Yes.’

‘In what capacity?’

‘He engaged me to build a house for him.’

‘For which he couldn’t pay you?’

‘Yes. As I said.’

‘Just to get the story straight, you didn’t ask for money upfront, nor for an agreed sum to be lodged with a firm of solicitors to be released upon satisfactory completion of the work, because you believed that he had the money.’

‘Yes. Stupid, to be sure, but yes.’

‘He had a reputation in the Vale for being a soft touch for a lot of money, is that correct?’

‘Yes. He came on the scene recently, a year or two ago, but his reputation got round the business community.’ Richardson spoke freely but Hennessey was acutely aware that the man was not giving anything away.

‘He’s ruined your business?’

‘Looks like it. The housing market is depressed at the moment, couldn’t sell that house easily anyway, too fancy for North-country tastes at the best of times. If I sold it at all, I’d have to let it go cheap. Would recover the materials and labour costs. I’ve got crews to pay, the bank won’t lend enough to see me through.’