level, but I didn’t think they listened. They were never going to believe me over him. I’d been in a fair share of drunken fights and I got caught for petty thefts a few times. The coppers didn’t like me and wouldn’t take anything I said serious. I carried on minding my own business and drinking, and the house got boarded up. People eventually stopped speaking about the tragedy. The police tried to investigate but they didn’t have a clue. Over the years, when no one was ever brought to justice, it all got forgotten about. The police round here were never much experienced with something of that level. It was far too serious for them to handle. An entire family were murdered in cold blood and all the locals were bothered about was if it would affect the value of their properties.’
The door opened and two men around the same age as Stan barged through it, stopped and stared at the pair of them sitting there. Morgan supposed they made an odd couple.
‘What you done now, Stan? You’ve been in more scrapes with the coppers this week than I have my entire life.’
Stan glared at the men, his cheeks reddening. Morgan realised they had no idea who she was and Stan didn’t look as if he was about to introduce her to them. She stood up, reached over and held out her hand for him to shake. He looked at her but took it firmly in his grasp.
‘Thanks for your advice, Stan, I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. I’ll see you around.’
With that she walked out of the pub, leaving him to it. He could tell his friends whatever story he wanted. She doubted it would be the truth, though; he was ashamed of her and that stung, a lot more than she’d ever admit to anyone. She’d wanted to ask him about the necklace, but missed the chance when those two had walked in.
As she sat inside her car staring at the pub in the distance, she thought about her mum and a sharp stabbing pain filled her chest. Sylvia had wanted her so much; they had been so close. Yet Morgan had no idea why she’d killed herself. Now that Stan had actually spoken to Morgan she wondered if he’d open up about the circumstances surrounding her death. After it had happened he’d clammed up and barely spoken to her. She had blamed him for everything. Maybe she was being a little unfair. She now knew after working this job that people could snap out of the blue.
Forty-Six
Morgan knew she needed something concrete to give to Ben, some kind of hard evidence of Barker’s involvement with Olivia. The woman from the post office had mentioned a pub she’d seen them at, The Grain. Might as well visit that as well, see if anyone there had anything to say. At least Ben would know she was trying her best to help. The drive to the small country pub took her past Thirlmere. Hot, tired and fed up of getting nowhere fast, she stopped in a small lay-by and got out of the car. She walked to the dry-stone wall which formed a barrier between the steep drop to the huge reservoir and the car park. The sun was trying its best to peek through the dark clouds that were forming above the Helvellyn mountain ridge to the east. The rugged beauty of where she lived and worked was never lost on her. Though the warmer weather brought swarms of tourists to the area, if you knew where to look there were still plenty of places to escape to while most people flocked to Lake Windermere, Coniston Water or Tarn Hows. The conifer-clad banks of Thirlmere were still a good place to escape to and a couple of times she’d hiked the ten-mile walk around it. Her mind felt heavy, so much responsibility felt like a dead weight around her neck. She wanted to prove her capability as a detective to Ben on her own merit. If she could just find something to move this case along, it would prove to him he’d made the right decision.
The Grain was definitely a hard place to find. She drove past the lane which led to it a few times, having to do the tightest five-point turns on the narrow lanes. Eventually she turned into the secluded car park. Baskets, tubs and window boxes overflowing with geraniums,