The Shining Skull by Kate Ellis

head. ‘Nah. He moved on to Morbay. Not sure why. Clash of personalities with his superiors probably.’
     He tilted his head to one side. ‘I sometimes wonder whether me and CS Nutter are compatible, you know,’ he added thoughtfully.
     ‘I’m interested in catching villains but the only things that seems to turn him on are meetings and shuffling paper about.’
    Wesley smiled and said nothing. They had reached the BenthamArms and the door to the lounge bar stood open invitingly. ‘Well, here we are. What are you drinking?’
    Heffernan looked at his watch. ‘As the sun’s over the yardarm and you’re driving, I’ll have a pint of best.’
    Wesley made a beeline for the bar and ordered the drinks while his boss went off in search of Houldsworth. Balancing the beer
     and his own orange juice, he wandered over to the corner where he’d found the ex-DCI the previous night and sure enough, there
     he was, waiting with a pair of notebooks on the table in front of him. Wesley was relieved that he’d remembered his promise.
    Gerry Heffernan had sat down beside him and now the two men were exchanging grunted pleasantries; enquiries about old colleagues
     and the current goings on at Tradmouth nick. Wesley let them get on with it until they ran out of things to say, which wasn’t
     very long – Gerry Heffernan had never been one of DCI Houldsworth’s blue-eyed boys.
    The former DCI looked alert and sober, unlike the night before. But the pint of beer in front of him suggested that he might
     not stay that way for long. They had to make their enquiries while the going was good.
    Wesley came straight to the point. ‘What would you say if I told you that Marcus Fallbrook’s just turned up out of the blue?’
    ‘I’d say someone’s having you on. The kid’s dead.’
    ‘What makes you so sure?’
    ‘Call it gut feeling. I think that poor lad was dead before the ransom was dropped. Anyway, if he was alive, where has he
     been all these years?’
    ‘He says he was found wandering by New Age travellers.’
    Houldsworth sniggered. ‘Away with the raggle-taggle gypsies o. You don’t believe that fairy story, do you?’
    ‘He’s offered to take a DNA test.’
    Houldsworth looked at Wesley as if he was a particularly stupid child who needed everything explaining in words of one syllable.
     ‘Well he would, wouldn’t he? If he refused it’s as good as admitting he’s a fraud.’
    Heffernan had been listening intently. ‘You’ve got a point there, Barry,’ he chipped in.
    Houldsworth prodded Wesley’s shoulder with an unsteady hand. ‘What do you bet that he’ll find some reason not to take thetest when the time comes? He’ll be called away urgently or develop an allergy to needles or something. You’ll see.’
    Wesley glanced at his boss. From the expression on Gerry Heffernan’s face, it seemed that he didn’t altogether consider the
     scenario Houldsworth described as far fetched.
    Wesley tried again. ‘But what if his story’s true. There are things we can check out. We can ask Manchester police to check
     out the addresses he talked about. And we can try and trace the travellers who found him.’
    Houldsworth snorted. ‘Fat chance. They’ll be long gone.’
    ‘He said he was knocked down in a hit and run and was admitted to
     A and E. He had concussion and that’s when he started having flashbacks . . . when he began to remember his early childhood.
     We can check out his story about the accident. The hospital will have records.’
    Houldsworth gave Gerry Heffernan a theatrical wink. ‘Ah, the naivety of the young. As soon as you start checking this stuff
     out, he’ll be well away.’
    ‘All I’m saying is that we should keep an open mind,’ Wesley protested, sensing he was being ganged up on.
    ‘So what do you reckon then, Barry?’ Heffernan asked.
    ‘I reckon the kidnappers were in league with the nanny, Jenny Booker. I never trusted her – or that boyfriend of hers – but
     there