Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) by J. J. Salkeld Read Free Book Online Page B

off, we’d still be all over him like a cheap suit when Foster got shot with one of them. And of course if he’d just taken the weapon away and hidden it again we’d never have tied the shooting back to that particular weapon. So it’s perfectly possible that it was left with the intention of implicating Tyson.’
    ‘Agreed. But I still fancy him for it, though. I’m not sure why.’
    ‘Oh, aye? Why’s that then, Jane? The old DI’s instinct, is it?’
    ‘Not so much of the old.’
    Mann laughed. ‘It’s the instinct that’s old, not the DI.’
    ‘Christ, Ian, you’re even starting to split hairs like Andy does. He only ended up in the job by mistake, you know.’’
    ‘How come?’
    ‘He thought he was joining the grammar police. Didn’t you know?’
    All three officers laughed, and turned as one when a spotty-faced probationer stuck his head round the door.
    ‘Custody Sergeant asked me to tell you, ma’am. John Winder is ready for interview. He’s in room 1.’
     
    Jane didn’t compare the two men’s hands, because there was no need. Everything from his haircut downwards told Jane what she already knew: that Winder’s luck had been a great deal better than Tyson’s in the years since they’d both been released from prison. He looked prosperous and confident, even in the clothes that the forensic team had given him. And that was a difficult look to pull off.
    ‘You know why you’re here?’ she asked, when the tape was running.
    ‘Frankie Foster’s dead. Aye, I’d heard.’
    ‘And did you kill him?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Did you want to kill him?’
    Coe opened his mouth to speak, but Winder held up a well-manicured hand. Coe closed his mouth. He who pays the piper, calls the tune, thought Jane.
    ‘I didn’t kill him. I didn’t like him, of course I didn’t, but I didn’t kill him. So what I thought about him doesn’t matter much to anyone, does it?’
    Jane nodded. It seemed that John Winder didn’t too much help from the smooth and svelte Mr. Coe.
    ‘And where were you earlier today, between ten in the morning and three in the afternoon?’
    ‘I went fishing in the morning, and then I was at home later on. Oh, and I popped into the supermarket on the way home.’
    ‘What times were these?’
    ‘I went fishing at about nine, maybe half past, and I must have left around one, half past. I don’t worry too much about the time. No need, really.’
    ‘And where were you fishing?’
    ‘Brotherswater.’
    ‘I didn’t know there were any fish in there,’ Iredale interrupted.
    ‘Just a few brownies. Small ones, too. But I fish for sport, not for the table. A good thing too, I dare say.’
    ‘Did you catch any?’
    ‘Couple of fry. Put ‘em straight back, like.’
    ‘And did you see anyone else while you were there?’
    ‘Fishing? No. You hardly ever do. That’s why I go there, like.’
    ‘So this is a regular haunt, is it?’ asked Jane quickly, glancing across at Iredale. She’d let him know when the floor was his. And it certainly wasn’t yet.
    ‘Oh, aye. Pretty regular, this last year or two. I’m semi-retired now, see. So I can do as I please.’
    ‘And what is it you do?’
    ‘Online entrepreneur, I suppose you’d call it.’
    ‘Impressive.’
    ‘Not really. When I was in prison I took a few courses, like, and I had this idea to sell farm supplies online. It just took off, I don’t know why. Just blind luck, I suppose.’
    ‘And where did the seed capital come from?’
    ‘DI Francis’ said Coe, ‘Much as I’m sure that we’d all benefit from Mr. Winder’s expertise and experience in the field of entrepreneurship I fail to see how that is relevant to the matter in hand.’
    ‘But you’re a success? Financially, I mean.’
    ‘I can afford to go fishing. And I can afford not to catch anything. So yes, I’m well off. Twenty years ago if I went out with the rod it was strictly to catch for my own table, or for someone else’s, if you get my drift.’
    ‘I do.