The Kill Call

Edendale, news came in that a horse had been badly injured in an RTC somewhere outside the town. Fry had barely managed to calculate that it was directly on her route, before she saw the flashing lights ahead. That was going to mean another hold-up, unless she could find a way round.
    Like dogs and sheep, horses came within the definition of ‘animal’ in the Road Traffic Act. That meant you had to report it to the police, if you ran over one. If it was a cat, a badger or a fox, you didn’t. It was strange how some laws stuck in your mind, while more recent legislation had to be looked up and puzzled over for a sensible interpretation every time it came up.
    Fry caught a glimpse of the body in the roadway. A dead horse must be an incredible weight. This one looked to weigh as much as a small car, and there was no way it was going to be shifted easily. They’d need a flatbed truck and a winch to get it off the road.
    She reversed the Peugeot into a field entrance, and turned round. Then she began to search for a way to get back on track.

27
     
     
    The machinery was soon swinging into action. A stop on Michael Clay’s Mercedes, a description issued of the man they were looking for. But it was always the same in these cases. The moment a man’s description was circulated, people would start to see him everywhere.
    ‘So Michael Clay has suddenly become our number one suspect?’ asked Cooper. ‘Because he’s gone to ground?’
    ‘Well, perhaps he wasn’t directly involved,’ said Fry. ‘He doesn’t seem to have been in Derbyshire at the time that Patrick Rawson was killed.’
    ‘Well, no …’
    ‘I think there must be something in their business affairs that will cast a light on the motive for Rawson’s death, though. The trouble is, that could take time for us to figure out now.’
    ‘You know we were looking for a rival dealer who might have had a feud with Patrick Rawson?’ said Cooper.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘What about the relationship between Patrick Rawson and Michael Clay? Partnerships like that can easily go wrong, especially where there’s criminality involved.’
    ‘You’re right, Ben. And even more so if it’s just one of the partners who happens to have criminal tendencies. I can imagine Rawson filling his own pockets, and Clay catching him out.’
    ‘Do you think it could it have been Clay who shopped his partner to Trading Standards?’ said Cooper.
    ‘He might not have gone that far in the first instance. But it’s possible he provided evidence against Rawson when the investigation started.’
    ‘To save his own skin?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Trading Standards never mentioned that, though, did they?’ said Cooper.
    ‘No. They might have been able to put a case together without Michael Clay, once they’d got the information they needed. That would have allowed Clay to look clean.’
    Cooper eased back in his chair, teasing out the theory. ‘But perhaps Rawson found out what he’d done, that Clay was the informant. That would cause a problem between them, all right. But then it would have been Rawson who came after Clay. What do you think?’
    ‘Well, it’s a possibility,’ said Fry. ‘What have you got on at the moment, Ben?’
    ‘Still a few calls on the Horse Watch file,’ said Cooper, looking at the items checked off his list. ‘I couldn’t get a reply from the owner of the Dutch Warmblood.’
    ‘Leave it for now. This is more important.’
    ‘OK.’
    They spent the rest of the afternoon concentrating on trying to piece together Michael Clay’s movements since he left his home in Great Barr. If his daughter was telling the truth now, he had set off on Tuesday afternoon, and must have arrived in Derbyshire early in the evening. Did Patrick Rawson’s death prompt the journey? But how could Clay possibly have known about it by then?
    A quick phone call established that he hadn’t booked in at the Birch Hall Country Hotel, where Patrick Rawson had stayed. Why was that? Well, maybe Clay was more careful with the company’s money, and had found somewhere less expensive. Perhaps he just wasn’t interested in golf.
    That raised the question of Michael Clay’s relationship with Deborah Rawson. Fry thought back to the one occasion she’d seen them together, in the reception area downstairs. Had there been any hint of a closer liaison between them than was suggested on the surface? Could she have read a suggestion in their body language that they were having an affair?
    Fry