The Kill Call

might know those things.
    There was obviously more of a local connection to be explored in this case than at first appeared. Patrick Rawson might be Birmingham Irish, but it was only thanks to Pauline Outram that they’d discovered Michael Clay’s origins.
    Cooper had almost smiled as Fry had confronted Pauline in that rented house and discovered a fact that might have taken another twenty-four hours for them to turn up.
    ‘My name is Outram because my mother never got married,’ Pauline had said. ‘Not to Stuart Clay, or anyone else. She died when I was very young.’
    ‘And you’re from a local family?’ Fry asked, trying to piece together an entirely new angle.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘So how did your mother meet Stuart Clay?’
    ‘They were neighbours.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Oh, didn’t you know?’ said Pauline. ‘The Clays are from Birchlow originally. But they moved away from the area, and it was only recently I was able to get in touch. Michael didn’t even know of my existence. I was brought up in the name of my adopted parents, and changed it back to Outram when I came of age.’
    Remembering it, Cooper really did smile. He felt sure that Fry wasn’t going to like all this.
    * * *
    Fry studied Erin Lacey with a critical eye. They were sitting in the DI’s office, Mrs Lacey being regarded as the distressed relative of a missing person, even if she had been unnecessarily evasive about her father’s movements earlier in the week.
    ‘Yes, I’m aware of the existence of Pauline Outram,’ she said. ‘I’ve never met her, and I don’t want to. I didn’t realize Dad had gone so far as to provide her with a house.’
    ‘It’s only leased,’ said Fry.
    ‘Well, that hardly makes it any better. She has no right to financial support from Dad.’
    DI Hitchens straightened his tie, a signal that he wanted to come in on the money issue. That was his thing, financial problems. The word was like a bell to one of Pavlov’s dogs.
    ‘Is there a problem with money, Mrs Lacey?’ said Hitchens.
    ‘No. But … well, it’s our inheritance he’s squandering on her. Mine, and my children’s.’
    ‘I see. You’re worried that your father has been diverting too much money to help Miss Outram.’
    ‘Far too much. She’s not worth a tenth of it.’
    Fry shifted in her chair to get a better view of Erin Lacey’s eyes. She was sitting to one side, so that she could observe her profile and her posture, the little nervous mannerisms that could be such a giveaway. But the eyes were often just as revealing.
    ‘You say you’ve never met Pauline Outram, yet you seem to have a strong degree of animosity towards her,’ she said.
    ‘From what I’ve heard, she’s wasted her life. She’s, what … in her late thirties? Dad says she’s never married, never had any children, and never been able to hold down a proper job. I dread to think how she’s been spending her life until now. She was brought up in foster homes, you know.’
    Fry instantly felt her attitude to Erin Lacey freezing. In her heart was an iciness deeper than the Arctic Ocean. Professionalism and training barely held her back.
    ‘That doesn’t’, she said, ‘make her a worthless person.’
    In other circumstances, she would have had taken Lacey apart verbally, lain her own history in front of the woman and confronted her with her own prejudices. But that wasn’t what she was here for. Right now, she had to suppress her own feelings, try not to alienate an important witness too much. She felt Hitchens watching her, and tried not to meet his eye.
    ‘She’s had relationships with all kinds of men,’ said Lacey. ‘And none of them has ever hung around very long. That has to tell you something, doesn’t it?’
    Something about the lack of commitment from men, perhaps, thought Fry. But she held her tongue and didn’t say it.
    ‘Anyway, I don’t think she was a fit person for Dad to be spending money on. She’s not really a member of the family. She was illegitimate.’
    ‘Do you know what happened to her mother?’ asked Hitchens.
    ‘I heard that she killed herself.’
    ‘That’s correct. According to Pauline Outram, she drowned herself in Birch Reservoir. Pauline was only a few months old at the time.’
    ‘That’s hardly my fault. It doesn’t justify Pauline Outram selling some sob-story to my father when she found out that we had money and she didn’t.’
    ‘But Miss Outram told us that her father and yours were very close,’ said