Michael Newton was not at all what Taylor was expecting to find in a youth hostel. He was at least twice her age, balding with a thin pencil moustache. He was also wearing the thickest pair of glasses she had ever seen.

“Michael Newton?” Taylor said.

“Call me Mike. Dr Livingstone, I presume? Sorry, that’s just my pathetic excuse for a joke. You must be from the police. Please take a seat.”

Taylor sat opposite him on a stone bench. Mike set his book down on the table next to it. It was Tolstoy’s War and Peace.

“Third time lucky,” Mike told her. “I’m determined to get to the end this time. I don’t know anybody who’s ever managed to get to the end. Have you tried it?”

“No,” said Taylor. “You called us this morning with some information about the car that went over the cliff at Merryhead.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I read about it. That poor old woman.”

“What were you doing up on Merryhead on Friday evening?”

“Do I need a lawyer?” Mike’s tone turned serious, but then his face broke into a wry smile. “I’m just kidding. I’m a lawyer myself. When I say that, I mean I’m qualified but I don’t practise the dark art. I do a bit of lecturing when the need arises. Those that can’t and all that. I was out hiking and I got a bit lost, I’m afraid. My sense of direction isn’t exactly GPS standard. I was worried I might have to camp out for the night. Somehow I came across the road that leads down from Merryhead.”

“What time was this?”

“It was starting to get dark. So around nine? I didn’t get back here until after midnight.”

“And you saw the car parked up there?”

“I didn’t think much of it at the time. I just assumed it was a couple of young love-birds up there for the atmosphere.”

“So there were two people in the car?”

“It was quite dark, but there were definitely two people in there. No mistake.”

“Can you describe them?”

“Not really. Like I said, it was dark and I gave them a wide berth. I didn’t think they’d appreciate being disturbed.”

“Was it a man and a woman?”

“I think so, but they both had short hair. I’m certain of that.”

“So you left Merryhead and walked all the way back to Trotterdown?”

“Yes. I didn’t realise how long it was going to take.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Taylor said, “isn’t it a bit odd for a man like you to be staying in a place like this?”

“They’re cheap, simple and I like the vibe in these places. All the best people are travellers. Look at Dr Livingstone, searching for the source of the Nile, eh?”

“Thank you for your time.” Taylor stood up. “I’ll let you get back to War and Peace.”

“You should give it a go some time,” Mike said.

“I doubt I’ll ever have time.”

* * *

Killian rang as she got in her car. “Where are you?” he asked.

“I’ve just finished at the Backpackers. The hiker didn’t give us much to go on beyond the fact he reckons it was a man and a woman in Milly Lancaster’s car that evening. He’s a bit weird, but there doesn’t seem to be any reason to doubt him.”

“That is corroborated by what the woman walking the dog said. But Eric found out something interesting at the pub.”

“What?”

“Nobody remembers seeing Sugden in the pub that night. It might not mean much — the barman was new and a lot of the people there were tourists — but White talked to some of the locals and none of them saw him either. Sugden’s story is starting to sound a bit dodgy.”

“What do we do now?”

“PC White is bringing Sugden in as we speak, and as DS Duncan is man down, I want you to sit in on the interview with me. It’ll be good experience for you.”

“I’m on my way.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Peter Sugden sat slumped in the chair in one of the two interview rooms at Trotterdown police station, opposite Killian and Taylor.

“Mr Sugden, are you sure you don’t want a solicitor with you?” Killian said.

“I’ve done nothing wrong. Why the hell would I need one?” Sugden’s eye twitched.

“Because it’s your legal right.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Sugden repeated.

“Let’s get started, then.” Killian pressed the green button on the recording device. “Interview with Peter Sugden commenced 13:46. Present, DI Killian and DC Taylor. For the record, legal representation has been offered to Mr Sugden, but he has refused it. Mr Sugden, when we spoke to you earlier today you told us you spoke to Milly Lancaster last Friday evening. Is this correct?”

“Yes,” Sugden scratched his twitching eye. “I mean, it could’ve been a bit earlier.”

“What did you talk about?” Taylor asked.

“Not much. This and that. The weather. That kind of thing. Nothing important.”

“Then what happened?” Killian said.

“She left. She drove off and I went to the pub.”

“The Old Boar?”

“That’s right.”

“Did Mrs Lancaster say where she was going?” Taylor asked.

“No, and I didn’t ask. It’s none of my business. I’ve already told you all of this.”

“We appreciate that,” said Killian, “but we need it on the record.”

“Can I smoke in here?”

“I’m afraid not. This is a non-smoking station. So Mrs Lancaster drove off and you went inside the pub? And this was around eight?”

“Round about. I had a few pints and then I left about nine thirty.”

“Which direction did Mrs Lancaster go in?” Taylor asked.

“Up past the general store.”

“In the direction of Merryhead, then?”

“I suppose so.”

“So you stood and watched her drive up the road before entering the pub?”

“I don’t know. I need a cigarette.”

“We’ll take a break in a minute,” Killian said. “Did you speak to anybody in the pub? Somebody who might be able to corroborate your story?”

“I might have. I don’t know. I think it was mostly tourists in there that night and there was a new barman working there. I hadn’t seen him before.”

“Boss,” Taylor said to Killian, “can I have a word?”

“Very well,” Killian said, “interview paused at 13:51.” He paused the machine. “You can have a smoke outside. You’ve got ten minutes.” Thomas White took Sugden out.

“What is it?” Killian said.

“I think he may be telling the truth,” Taylor replied.

“What do you mean?”

“If there was a new barman in the Boar that night and the place was full of tourists, none of them would have noticed Sugden. He’s hardly that memorable.”

“You’ll soon learn how things are in Cornwall. I know for a fact the pub wasn’t just full of tourists. There’ll have been locals in there too. Sugden’s lived here for a long time. If he was in there, someone would have noticed. That man’s not telling us everything. Let’s see what he has to say about harassing Mrs Lancaster.”

“Interview with Peter Sugden recommenced 14:10,” Killian said when Sugden was brought back in. He looked more relaxed. The cigarette had obviously calmed his nerves a bit.

“You said earlier that you barely knew Mrs Lancaster,” Killian started.

“That’s right.” Sugden nodded.

“How long have you lived in Polgarrow?” Taylor asked him.

“Coming up for thirty years. I was lucky enough to take very early retirement. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Milly Lancaster lived there for almost as long,” said Killian. “She lived down the road from you, and yet you claim you hardly knew her.”

“I knew her enough to say hello. Milly kept herself to herself. She didn’t get out much. What’s going on here? Surely you don’t think I had something to do with what happened?”

“Do you own a car?” Taylor asked.

“No, I can’t see the point. I stay around Polgarrow mostly and if I do need to go into Trotterdown, there’s the bus. Not owning a car isn’t against the law, is it? This is ridiculous.” Sugden stood up. “I don’t have to put up with this. I know my rights.”