Page 70 of Slack Tide Kill

"Just my blood pressure monitor."

Sally looked at Liam. They were getting nowhere.

"Do you know the name Jason Harrow?" Liam asked.

"No. Should I?"

"How about Tom Richter?"

Now Spate's eyes slitted. "That's the past. Why you want to go digging that up for?"

"Your friend Reg wasn't a serious suspect back then, was he? But maybe he should've been. We've heard he might've bought his way out of the firing line. Did you know anything about that?"

Spate stiffened slightly. "Never heard it, and there was no need anyway. Reg was with me that night, and about 50 others. In the pub. There was even a copper there, saw us both. It weren't Reg who killed that lad."

Sally tilted her head. That seemed to confirm what the records said, what she'd heard from Jack Mercer, too.

"But you knew the victim?" Liam pressed. "Tom Richter?"

"Everyone knew him!" Spate snarled. "Village idiot, that lad, wasn't he? Poking his nose everywhere. Looking for work. Asking questions at every business on the coast. But just too stupid to hire."

"You think someone killed him for asking questions?" Sally asked.

"You're really asking me about some dozy wanker from 30 years ago? Who cares?"

"Did you ever have a suspect in mind?"

"Did I have a suspect? I didn't care two hoots, love. Maybe it were the bloody tooth fairy, just missed his mouth?" He chuckled at his own joke. "I didn't care then and I don't care now."

A silence fell across the caravan, broken only by the low murmur of the TV.

"Was Tom Richter involved in trafficking across the Channel?"

"I doubt it. Too thick."

"Who do you work with, shipping small boats from France?"

His face was blank. "I don't ship small boats from France."

"And the groups of young men on your campsite?"

"What young men? We're a family site. You'll find no record of anything like that here."

Sally didn't doubt it. Spate might've lost a step, but she doubted he'd slid that far. "Last question, Gerald. Give us something we can use, and I'll hold back on handing your name direct to Tania Brown at the Gaze."

Spate's eyes narrowed slightly. "Brown? I read her stuff. She's good. Easy on the eyes, too. Or she used to be."

"You knew Reg and you know his sons. They've gone to ground. Where would they be?"

"Not a clue."

"Are they here? You want us to get a brigade out and toss all your caravans?"

He sighed heavily. "No, of course I don't. But they're not bloody here. I told you, we're not mates. We don't work together since Roarke kicked me out. I don't know where they are."

Sally took a step closer. "Think, Gerald. We've heard they might be in southern France already. They have properties down there."

Spate sat up slightly. "Who said France?"