The Coniston Case Read Free Page B

panels?’
    Simmy shook her head, thinking a theme was developing that was at least a distraction from Valentine’s Day. ‘What happened?’
    Ben took over. ‘She was on the verge of being persuaded by some salesman bloke to spend ten thousand on sticking panels all over the roof, until I showed her some of the facts and figures. This far north, she’d have been mad to do it, even if the basis for them made any sense – which it doesn’t.’ He leant forward, his voice rising. ‘They
still
haven’t managed to produce batteries that store the energy properly. So you have to go back to the old system once the sun goes down. All this guff about the national grid buying back your unused reserves is just a cynical bit of market manipulation. There is no way in the world it can ever make economic sense. But much worse than that, there was never any need to reduce carbon emissions anyhow. They’re not doing a scrap of harm.’
    ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Simmy.
    ‘Suit yourself. Not believing is good. I woke up one day and thought – can all this man-made global warming stuff really be true?’ He grinned. ‘So I read all the counter science, mostly just to be perverse at the start. And now I’m absolutely certain the whole idea is rubbish. Mind you, some of those sceptic people are pretty bonkers as well. You’ve got to be selective. But it looks as if the computer models the scientists used in the 1990s are hopelessly wrong. It would be funny if it hadn’t caused such economic havoc.’
    Moxon was listening impatiently. ‘You’re wrong, boy. By the time you’re thirty, you’ll realise just how wrong youare. I just hope you change your mind before then.’
    Ben scowled at him. ‘I’m not wrong,’ he insisted.
    ‘But …’ Simmy felt as if she’d just been solemnly assured that two and two made five. ‘Surely the counter science, as you call it, is wacky off-the-wall stuff? The real scientists all agree – don’t they?’
    ‘Stop,’ Melanie begged, before Ben could draw breath. ‘I’ve heard him on all this, and believe me, it’s not fun. And we haven’t got time.’ She gave Ben one of her unique glares, which carried added force thanks to an artificial eye. ‘I suppose you thought we’d give you some lunch.’
    ‘Brought my own,’ he corrected, digging in his school bag for a plastic box containing sandwiches. ‘And I guarantee you that I’ll be proved right any day now.’
    ‘You’ve got incredible timing,’ Simmy said, anxious to follow Melanie’s advice and dodge the climate lecture. ‘Just as the inspector’s here.’
    ‘Yeah.’ He smiled smugly and Simmy guessed the boy had witnessed the arrival of the detective and decided to investigate. He was quite likely to have been heading somewhere else and been diverted.
    She had been watching all three faces, which were turned towards her in a pattern she was beginning to find familiar; as if everyone looked to her for a lead. DI Moxon himself was holding her in a steady gaze, with something of an appeal in his eyes. Ben was right, she concluded. There
was
some additional reason for his visit, which he was struggling to reveal.
    ‘Tell us more about Mr Hayter,’ she invited. ‘If his daughter’s so worried about him, there might have been an accident or something.’
    The detective smiled unhappily. ‘Well, for one thing, she didn’t believe he had ever been sent flowers before, not for any reason at all. For another thing, he has no plans to start another job, as far as anyone is aware. That implies at the very least that someone has been playing a rather nasty joke on him. Daisy suspects it was a coded message implying he was unlikely to remain long in the job he already has, and that would be very upsetting for him.’
    Simmy cast her mind back, and volunteered as complete an account as she could of the events of the previous Monday. ‘It was sunny, and I parked in the town car park without paying, because I was only