Read Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) for Free Online Page B

morning, and cleaned the house and then started on the car. It really needed vacuuming out. In the afternoon he watched the rugby while surfing the Subaru and Cumbrian modified car message-boards. BB82 seemed to post fairly regularly on a number of sites, and sure enough in the early evening he turned up on two of them. He got involved in a complicated discussion about aftermarket shock absorbers on one, which became pretty heated, and on the other he responded to a question about who was going to the Carlisle cruise that night. He said that, subject to his little one settling down and his wife giving him a pass-out for the night he’d be there, though he wouldn’t be able to stay late. He took a bit of friendly abuse from some of the younger lads, but BB82 certainly gave as good as he got.
     
    Mann grilled some chicken and made sticky rice, and at eight he drove to the car park. He was one of the first to arrive, and for the next half hour he was certainly the oldest too. He’d cleaned up the engine bay, so he did what lots of the kids had done, and opened the bonnet on his Impreza. A couple of the kids commented approvingly on his engine mods.
    ‘What’s she got now marrer? 250 horse? 275?’
    ‘About that. I’ve not had it on a rolling road.’
    The night was dry and cold, and the kids milled around happily, eating burgers, turning their stereos up to 11. Mann could see the tops of a few of the cars moving in time to the bass pulses from inside.
     
    Finally he saw Brockbank’s Subaru pull in, and park up a few cars down from his. Brockbank was on his own. Mann kept moving, chatting to some of the other lads with Subarus, but kept an eye on Brockbank. When he saw him approaching his car Mann walked back towards it.
    ‘This one yours?’ asked Brockbank.
    ‘Yeh.’
    ‘Nice one. I used to know someone with one exactly the same as this. Had it long?’
    ‘No, just a few weeks.’
    ‘Happy with it?’
    ‘So far.’
    Brockbank was looking at him, maybe wondering why a bloke with grey temples would be driving a modified Subaru.
    ‘Don’t you find it a bit loud?’
    Mann smiled. He’d been right. ‘Yeh. I might take that airbox off for a start. The induction roar would wake the dead.’
    ‘You’ll lose a bit of power.’
    ‘I can live with that.’
    Brockbank nodded.
    ‘Where did you say you got it from again?’
    There was something about the question that made Mann cautious.
    ‘Funny enough it was a Police auction. When I came back home and needed a car a mate told me about them. So I picked it up there. Didn’t think they’d sell me a nicked one anyway.’
    Brockbank looked satisfied.
    ‘Yeh, I think it used to be my mate’s. He got done for a cannabis farm down near Ulverston, and they impounded his car after.’
    ‘I’m sorry mate.’
    ‘Don’t be. He won’t be needing a car for another year or two, and when he does he’s got enough tucked away to buy himself something new. The name’s Ben by the way.’
    ‘Gary.’
    Brockbank looked in the engine bay.
    ‘It’s cleaner than I remember it. Nice job. You planning to do anything else?’
    ‘Thought I might uprate the brakes a bit. When I’ve got a bit of cash, that is.’
    ‘What is it you do?’
    ‘Right now I’m signing on. I used to be in the forces, then I did security work down on the Costas, but the work dried up last year, so I came back home. And you?’
    ‘Contracting. You know, farm work.’
    ‘I’ve been thinking of getting into that.’
    ‘You come from a farming background then?’
    ‘No, a council estate in Kendal. But I’m pretty good with machines, and I don’t mind hard work.’
    Brockbank nodded. ‘Tell you what marrer. A group of us meet up at a pub in Alston once a month, all Scooby owners, and a bit older than this lot. Come along if you like. Wednesday night, at the King John.’
    ‘Cheers, I might just take you up on that. I don’t really know anyone up here yet, which is why I came to this playground