NO AGE TO DIE: The release of a dangerous prisoner leads to murder (DCI John Blizzard Book 9)

on Jacob Reed. She dared not think of what she had seen, of the secret that she was carrying. Outside the hostel, Blizzard and Colley stood and surveyed the words ‘No perverts’, which had been crudely spray-painted across one of the church walls in large red letters.
‘This is getting out of hand,’ said Blizzard.
The inspector banged on the front door of the church. It took a couple of minutes for it to be answered by the caretaker.
‘I’ve been told not to talk to you,’ he said.
He tried to close the door but Blizzard jammed it open with his foot.
‘We don’t want to talk to you,’ he said. ‘We want to see Glenda Rutherford. Is she here?’
‘In the office but…’
Blizzard brushed past the caretaker and the detectives walked along the corridor leading to the flat-roofed extension that housed the hostel. Blizzard had not visited it before and he surveyed the scene with interest. The centre comprised a dormitory with beds for six men, a common room with comfy chairs, television and table tennis table, and a kitchen. None of the guests were present but Colley ran his eye down the handwritten list that had been pinned on the wall. He gave a grunt of recognition.
‘Someone you know?’ asked Blizzard. He walked across to stare over the sergeant’s shoulder.
‘A couple of them.’ Colley tapped the names. ‘I nicked them when I was in uniform.’
‘What for?’
Colley tapped one of the names again.
‘Him for drunk and disorderly,’ he said. He pointed to the other name. ‘And him for flashing at women in the park.’
‘Charming,’ said Blizzard.
‘Yeah, but neither of them are in Albert Macklin’s league. At least we know that he’s not here. His name’s been crossed out.’
They made their way to the office a few moments after Glenda Rutherford had sat down behind the desk. She looked nervous as they entered the room.
‘I’m not sure I can add much to what I told DC Allatt,’ she said. Her voice was shaky.
‘Yes, well, we’d just like to check a couple of things,’ said Blizzard. He sat down at the desk. Colley stood by the door.
‘What things?’ She fumbled in her handbag for a tissue and dabbed her eyes as the tears started to well up. ‘I did not see anything. I was on my way home.’
‘Ah, but I think you did see something, Mrs Rutherford,’ said Blizzard. ‘And I would appreciate it if you told us the truth.’
‘I am telling you the truth.’
‘I think not.’
She lowered her head, refusing to meet his gaze.
‘Mrs Rutherford,’ said Colley. His voice was softer and more reassuring than the inspector’s. ‘We do not want to make this difficult for you.’
She looked up, appreciating the sergeant’s more sensitive approach. Blizzard did not resent his sergeant’s interruption: it was the way they worked. He knew that people responded much better to the sergeant’s greater sense of humanity.
‘We believe that someone wanted us to think Jacob was hit by the brick,’ said Colley. ‘But we reckon that he was attacked before it happened. Did you see anyone in the church before you left for home?’
Hesitation. A hunted look. Confusion. A glance at the door but realisation that it was being blocked by Colley. The detectives exchanged glances. Years of experience told them when someone was lying – and Glenda Rutherford was lying.
‘You did see something, didn’t you?’ said Colley.
‘Yes,’ she said. The voice was hoarse, no more than a whisper. ‘I saw him on the way out.’
‘Saw who?’
She hesitated again. For a moment, it looked as if she was about to collapse but with a massive effort, she regained her composure.
‘Henry,’ she whispered eventually.
‘The vicar?’ said Colley.
She nodded.
‘What did he want?’ asked Blizzard.
‘He said he wanted to discuss something with Jacob. They were in the office when I left for home then I heard the window breaking and went back.’ Tears welled up again. ‘It was awful… Jacob was lying there… I thought he was dead. There was blood everywhere.’
‘Did the vicar have anything with him when you saw him?’ asked the inspector.
‘Like what?’
‘A weapon?’
‘No.’ Glenda Rutherford’s look was defiant as she found fresh energy. ‘I am sure that Henry did not attack him.’
‘But how can you be sure?’ asked Colley. ‘You weren’t in the building while they talked, were you? You’d left for home, hadn’t you?’
She shook her head in disbelief.
‘Surely, a vicar would not do something like that?’ she said. ‘Not a man like Henry.’
‘You should watch more Channel 5,’ said Blizzard. ‘Besides, what else are we to think?’
‘Well, I don’t believe it,’ said Glenda. She sat back in her chair. The conversation was clearly at an end.
The detectives left the office and walked across the church.
‘Channel 5?’ said Colley.
‘Something Arthur said.’
As they walked towards the front door, they saw Edgar Rose-Harvey standing in the reception area. He was examining a piece of paper in his hand and seemed unaware of their presence. When he saw them, he slipped the paper in his pocket but not before they saw the letterhead from a bank. The detectives sensed that something was different about him. The hair was as well groomed as ever, the black polo-neck sweater was clean and the black jacket had been brushed free of rogue fluff but something had changed. Gone was the usual confidence, replaced by a more troubled countenance.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said. He tried to sound calm and relaxed. He failed. ‘What brings you here this time?’
‘Your ill-advised hostel,’ said Blizzard.
‘You really do not give up, do you?’ said Rose-Harvey. His edge was back. ‘You have already been told that it has official sanction from social services.’
‘I would like to know which idiot made that decision.’
‘You need to choose your words very carefully,