NO AGE TO DIE: The release of a dangerous prisoner leads to murder (DCI John Blizzard Book 9) by John Dean (free ebook reader for android .TXT) 📗

is dead? Margaret Hatton’s a cool customer and if she does not play ball, we’ve only got Calvert. A good lawyer would pick holes in what he’s told us.’

‘She’ll play ball,’ said Blizzard confidently.

‘Are you sure?’ asked Ronald. ‘Remember the problems that Thames Valley had with her.’

‘We’re not Thames Valley, Arthur.’

Colley popped his head round the door.

‘She’s on the move,’ he said.

* * *

Just after 8.00am, Margaret Hatton was fifteen miles from Hafton, driving away from the city on the westbound dual carriageway in her white Jaguar. She was heading for the A1 intersection and the journey south back to her home in Buckinghamshire, somewhere she felt safe. Matthew had not been answering his phone and she had grown increasingly uneasy. She noticed the patrol car approaching quickly in her rear-view mirror. As it neared, its blue lights started to flash. Checking her speedometer and wondering if she was being pulled over for exceeding the 70mph limit, she stopped at the next lay-by.

A uniformed officer got out of the driver’s side of the patrol vehicle and approached the car. Margaret Hatton wound down her window and gave one of her best smiles. The smile froze as she saw in her wing mirror the approaching figures of John Blizzard and David Colley. One look at the stern expressions on their faces made her realise that the game was up.

* * *

Two hours later, she had regained her confidence as the detectives walked into the interview room at Abbey Road, sat down and stared across the desk at her. Both Hatton and her lawyer, a smartly-dressed woman in her early thirties, exuded confidence. Since her arrival at Abbey Road, Margaret Hatton had had time to rationalise her situation and convince herself that there was no way that they could build a case strong enough to send her to jail. Others had tried and failed. So would Blizzard and Colley.

‘I take it you will be releasing my client?’ said the lawyer. ‘That you realise that this is all a terrible mistake and that you wish to apologise to her?’

‘On the contrary, Miss Josephs,’ said Blizzard. ‘We propose to interview her in connection with an extremely serious matter.’

‘But I’ve done nothing wrong,’ said Hatton. ‘That’s the truth.’

‘I doubt you know what the truth is. I mean, you are the woman who pretended that her son had been murdered, aren’t you? A person who can do that is unlikely to have much idea of truth.’

The solicitor looked at her client in surprise but said nothing. Hatton gave a knowing smile as she recalled the look on the face of the detective at Thames Valley when he told her that there would be no prosecution. His sense of abject failure had sustained her for a long time and now, after a whispered conversation with her solicitor, she sat up straight, composed, cool, confident.

‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ she said.

‘Oh, but I think you do,’ said Blizzard. He opened a brown file that was lying on the desk. ‘See, we’ve spoken to Alistair.’

She started slightly but rapidly regained her composure.

‘I don’t know what–’ she began.

‘We know that he wasn’t murdered. That he lives with his wife and kids in New Zealand.’

‘Some might say that living in New Zealand is just as bad as being murdered.’ She gave a sly smile.

‘Oh, drop the act, Margaret! We know that he wants nothing to do with his conwoman mother.’

‘I’m no conwoman, Chief Inspector, and if you repeat that outside these walls, I will sue you.’ Hatton glanced at her lawyer, who nodded. ‘How did you find Alistair anyway?’

‘Not “how is he?” “How are my grandchildren?” Just “how did you find him?” I’m not surprised, mind. I think that all you care about is money.’ Blizzard ran his finger down the top page in the file. ‘You’ve had well over a million quid from public sector organisations because of your so-called expertise on child safeguarding. And nothing touches the heartstrings better than a dead child.’

‘I may have made the story up, but I believe in what I am doing, Chief Inspector. I doubt very much if you’ll find anyone to say otherwise. And you’ll not find anything to charge me on either. It might be worth remembering that the Thames Valley detective inspector who tried to put me before a court ended up losing his job. I have some very influential friends, very influential indeed.’

‘Yes, you’re probably right,’ said Blizzard. He closed the file, replaced it on the desk and was silent for a few moments. He glanced at Colley. ‘Pity.’

The sergeant nodded and Margaret Hatton gave the officers a look of triumph.

‘So, my client can go then?’ asked the lawyer.

‘Actually, she can’t, no,’ said Blizzard. ‘See, we don’t want to talk to her about Alistair. I must say that she is remarkably calm for someone whose partner in crime has just died. I mean, you do know that Matthew is dead, don’t you, Margaret? That’s why you were getting out of the city, wasn’t it?’

‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ said Hatton. She could not disguise a look of shock. ‘I do not know anyone called Matthew.’

‘Then allow me to tell you a little story,’ said Blizzard. ‘I’m not sure how long you have known Matthew St Clair but what is important is that last year, he met a man called Phil Calvert at an evangelical Christian event in Hafton. Calvert was looking to expand his property business and Matthew was scouting for his next victim.’

Hatton looked increasingly uncomfortable.

‘They got talking in the bar, as you do,’ said Blizzard. ‘And Calvert told him about a developer who had been seeking to build flats on the area around St John’s Church. How am I doing so far?’

Hatton said nothing.

‘St Clair