Read Online Dead Eyed by Matt Brolly - Free Book Online

her.
    Lambert placed his ear to the door, but couldn’t hear the muffled conversation. He stepped back as the door opened.
    ‘Mr Landsdale will see you now,’ said the woman.
    Two chrome-framed desks sat side by side in the office, each with an old box-style computer monitor on them. A grey-haired man stood in front of one of the desks. His hair fell to his shoulder, a week’s growth of stubble protruding from his face. His smile was as prominent and false as his colleague’s. ‘Mr Lambert, pleased to meet you. I am the minister of our humble little church. You can call me Neil.’
    Lambert accepted the weak handshake. ‘Thank you, Neil.’
    ‘Please sit, how may I help?’
    ‘As I am sure Miss Vernon has informed you, I was Terrence’s friend at University. I’d come to pay my respect to Miss Vernon. Whilst here, I thought I’d see the church Terrence was so fond of.’
    ‘That he was, Mr Lambert. Terrence was an active parishioner, ever since he joined our congregation when he was at University. He will be sorely missed.’
    ‘You’ve been minister all that time?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Landsdale, holding his hands in front of him, his fingers interlocked. ‘It is my church.’
    ‘So you know Terrence’s father?’
    ‘I’m afraid not. Sandra and Terrence’s father had divorced some time before they moved here.’
    ‘Did Terrence ever speak of him?’
    ‘With all due respect, what business is it of yours? I thought you came to pay your respects.’ The smile was still there, but the humour had disappeared from the minister’s eyes.
    ‘I have, and I wanted to pay my respects to both parents,’ said Lambert, his voice rising, his patience fading.
    Landsdale understood. He unlinked his fingers and sat back in his chair, as if trying to escape Lambert’s gaze. ‘Look, there’s not much I can tell you. Terrence’s parents were parishioners of our sister church in Neath, when Terrence was a child. The church had a different approach then. From what I heard, there was a bit of a nasty business when they separated. Terrence never mentioned him.’
    ‘Do you know where Mr Haydon is now?’ It would only take a minute to find the father’s address on The System, but Lambert wanted to hear the address from Landsdale. He tapped his knuckles on the minister’s desk, and waited.
    ‘Now how would I know that, Mr Lambert? Perhaps you should ask the police.’
    Lambert continued tapping the desk, despite the threat. He inched closer to Landsdale who shifted in his chair, looking everywhere but back at him. ‘Okay. Thank you for your time.’ Lambert stepped back from the desk, Landsdale letting out a sigh. ‘Before I go, do you ever use incense during your services?’
    Landsdale was on his feet, mirroring Lambert. A smile still stuck on his face. ‘Bit Old Testament for us. Let me show you out, Mr Lambert.’
    Lambert ordered a taxi back to the city centre and waited outside the church for it to arrive. On the journey back, he replayed the meeting with Terrence’s mother. He hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but what he recalled most now was the coldness of her house. The sparse religious decorations, the hostility from the small bespectacled woman. Lambert hadn’t sensed much love for her son from Sandra Vernon, only the bitterness and hatred she felt towards her ex-husband. Lambert tried to picture what it must have been like for Terrence to be raised by such a woman and found himself feeling a bit sorry for Terrence’s father even though he had never met the man.
    Landsdale was less straight forward. He gave the outward impression of being approachable and helpful, but he had a touch of steel about him. He’d refused to be budged on Haydon’s father, even though Lambert was certain Landsdale knew where the man was. Something was going on with Sandra Vernon and Landsdale. They were hiding something whether it was relevant to Terrence Haydon’s death or not. Lambert was lifted by the thought. In his