Snow Angel

by JJ Marsh

  The mismatched party followed in single file. Snowflakes blew into Adrian’s eyes and his ears hurt from the icy wind, but all he could think of was Will out there, alone. He heaved freezing air into his lungs and marched ahead.

  Somewhere across the fields came a sudden screech and Catinca grabbed his arm.

  “That’s only an owl,” said Tanya. “Don’t panic.”

  Adrian was still processing the forester’s words, struggling to make sense of what the hell they were doing in a forest in the middle of a snowstorm. “Hang on, how do you get up fifteen feet?”

  “Ladder. The place is pretty well maintained from spring to autumn, but no one uses it in winter. Perfect place to hide something you don’t want found.”

  “But why would Susie think he’s there? How would a woman carry Will up a ladder? He’s six foot one and weighs a hundred and eighty pounds.”

  Gabriel shone his torch ahead and Adrian could see the solid wooden legs of a structure emerging from the snow. “There’s a pulley system for lifting equipment to the top. I thought Susie was off her head suggesting this place, but somebody’s been up here today. Look.” He pointed to a pattern on the ground. Snow had fallen into the grooves, but the marks of a car’s wheels turning and reversing made an almost perfect pair of heart shapes.

  “You wait here and I’ll climb up.” He zipped the first aid kit inside his coat and started his ascent of the ladder with the torch in his right hand. It looked dangerous and slippery and utterly terrifying. Adrian held his breath as the torchlight bobbed upwards and Gabriel disappeared into the dark. Each second stretched as three upturned faces waited for a sound. Catinca’s gloved hand slipped into Adrian’s and his heartbeat boomed in his ears.

  Snow fell from the platform in a clump to land at their feet, making them all start. A canvas panel unzipped and Gabriel leaned out, shone his torch at them and then aimed the light at himself as he called down.

  “There’s a man up here! He’s unconscious but breathing and has a strong pulse. He’s freezing and in real danger of hypothermia. I’ve wrapped him in a thermal blanket for now, but we have to get him down and take him to a hospital. Tanya, go round to that end,” he flicked the torch to the left, “and grab a hold of the pulley rope. Pull until the basket gets up here. I’m going to secure this guy in it, then when I say so, I want all three of you to hold on and bring him slowly down.”

  Adrian stumbled after Tanya and while she looped the pulley rope off its pegs, he knocked all the snow off the folded canvas basket, which unfolded to the size of a child’s dinghy. He and Catinca manhandled it onto position and Tanya began to pull, backing away across the clearing. Its upward progress was rapid and Gabriel shouted for her to stop.

  Several minutes passed as they strained to see what was happening high above them. Finally, the torch flashed back to their faces.

  “I’ll keep the light on him and you release the rope, slow and steady, one hand over another, till he’s safely down. Adrian, tie the end of the rope around your waist, just in case there’s a slip. Tell me when you’re ready.”

  Adrian did as he was told and called up to the blackness where Gabriel should be.

  The weight of the basket came as a surprise and Adrian leaned back to take the strain as Catinca struggled to get a foothold in the snow. Gabriel kept up a running stream of instructions and inch by inch, they fed the rope out until the basket touched the ground.

  Adrian ran towards it, forgetting he was still attached to the end and a sudden tug at his middle caused him to fall headlong into the snow. Catinca helped him up and untied him, by which time Gabriel was scrambling down the ladder.

  Inside the basket, a figure was wrapped in a silver blanket, blond hair poking out of the top. Adrian peered to look closer and let out an involuntary gasp. Will’s skin was candle wax pale and his lips a violet blue.

  Gabriel handed his torch to Tanya and detached the pulley clip. “Adrian, can you and I carry him back to the Land Rover, you reckon? We’ll be faster taking him to hospital ourselves than calling an ambulance. Catinca, give him your hat.”

  Catinca covered Will’s blond hair with her trapper hat and tucked the flaps over his ears.

  The two men got a grip on the canvas and in a stumbling, awkward shuffle, they bumped, wobbled and sometimes dropped the basket along the path. Eventually, Gabriel gave up. He hoisted Will into a fireman’s lift and heaved him into the back of the Land Rover.

  “Get in with him,” he motioned impatiently. “Take off his clothes because they’re frozen and will get wet as he heats up. Cover him with a couple of them fleeces and put the thermal blanket over the top. Don’t rub his hands, just cover them up. I’m going to take him to Tiverton. Catinca, as soon as you get a signal, call DI Stubbs.” He slammed the door and they got to work.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  How many times had Beatrice’s notebook proved a lifesaver? She had lost count. She sat in a police interview room on the line to Tiverton Community Hospital, waiting for someone to locate the doctor treating Will. Finally, Dr Wade came to the phone. The second Beatrice said the words Amanita virosa, he understood the seriousness of the situation.

  “I can put your mind at ease on that score. The people who presented him mentioned a possible connection. My assessment at this stage is that DS Quinn has ingested no poison. Nor are there any indications of amatoxins in his system. He is merely under the influence of a large dose of benzodiazepine. It’s a tranquilliser that...”

  “I know what it is,” Beatrice gave a little laugh to counter her sharp tone. “I’ve come across them before. What effect will it have?”

  “Very little. He’s been sedated, that’s all. Had it not been for the cold and resulting hypothermia, he would not need to be in hospital and could sleep it off at home. He should wake up in a few hours, feeling a little disorientated and with little memory of what happened. These drugs are designed to make people forget traumatic events such as seizures. Even so, we want to keep an eye on him over the next few hours.”

  “How did it get into his system?”

  Wade cleared his throat. “As I told DI Axe earlier, Mr Quinn ingested a large amount of a prescription drug. Whether he took the medication voluntarily or not, I cannot possibly say. Although why he would take such an amount the day before his wedding is beyond me. We’ll just have to wait till he wakes up to find out more.”

  “In your professional opinion, when might that be? He’s getting married today.”

  “You are the seventh person to tell me that. I don’t know exactly when he’ll come round, but his future husband will be the first to know. He’s sleeping in a chair right next to him. Goodnight.”

  Beatrice thanked the testy doctor and hung up. Her mouth was dry, she had a headache and her stomach was empty. She was just about to go and find a coffee machine when DI Axe stuck her head round the door. “Any luck?” she asked.

  Beatrice nodded. “Just spoken to the doctor. As far as poisons are concerned, he’s clean as a thistle. But it’s going to be a while before we ... I mean you ... can interview him. Wade said it might take a few hours and even then he may not remember much.”

  “In that case, could I have a word? Fancy a cuppa?”

  “You read my mind.”

  Axe sat at a corner table in the police canteen while Beatrice bought the tea. When she returned with a tray bearing five cups, DI Axe raised her eyebrows.

  “Are we expecting guests?”

  “No. Four of them are for me.” She took a swallow from the first cup and shut her eyes to appreciate the bliss. Strong, sweet and warm, it was the most welcome thing she had ever drunk.

  Axe took a cup for herself. “Fair enough. I have an update. A family member made a positive ID of Gaia Dee’s body. She also confirmed there had been several conversations between her and her family yesterday afternoon, letting them know she’d be later than expected. You know what I think? She planned to brazen it out.”

  Beatrice shook her
head. “I don’t get it. Why would she tell me she would talk to the police and then when a detective turns up, she tries to get rid of him? It doesn’t make sense. Why did she drug him? How the hell did she get him right up that tree where Gabriel found him? If she sedated him in her house, how did she even get a man that size out of her house and into her car?” Beatrice started on her second cup.

  “I’m pretty sure that was misinterpretation on your part. Like certain other people, she was reminding you that you are no longer an officer of the law. But you took it as a hint. When DS Quinn turned up, she panicked. She made him tea or coffee laced with a strong tranquilliser, answered his questions and waited till it took effect. Maybe she offered him a lift back down to his car – he parked at the end of the lane like you did – or waited till he keeled over and put him in a wheelbarrow.”

  Neither spoke for a moment, both imagining alternate scenarios.

  “What was Gaia doing in his Audi? Did she drive into that wall on purpose?” Beatrice wondered, half to herself.

  “My theory is that she drugged him, dumped him in her car, drove to that hunters’ hide, and winched him up there, expecting him to die overnight. Then she had to get rid of the Audi by leaving it somewhere which would throw us off the scent. Experience tells me she was heading for Devil’s Bridge. It’s about a mile from her house and a well-known suicide spot. She could have walked home from there, and the search for DS Quinn could have taken days. Everything appears to make sense apart from one factor. How did the people who found Quinn know where he would be?”

  “You’d have to ask them. But Gabriel Shaw is a forester. He uses those places for his work. He probably realised how close it was to her house and sounded the alarm. Was Gaia Dee a suspect in the Vaughan Mason investigation?”

  “She was certainly a person of interest. Her name had cropped up in connection with another case. But we checked out her social media and found an alibi. She attended a medical conference in Bristol from Friday afternoon to Sunday lunchtime. If you had brought your evidence to me rather than involving DS Quinn, that would have convinced me to interview her.”

  “That was the whole point. I didn’t have any evidence, just some strong suspicions. She wasn’t even in the frame,” said Beatrice, opening another packet of sugar. “Anyway, your instructions to me were to keep away from the enquiry.”

  “Which you obviously obeyed to the letter.”

  Beatrice didn’t argue, just drank her tea and accepted the rebuke. Then something Axe had said struck her. “Do you know what time she checked into the conference?”

  “Around four. Confirmed by the hotel.”

  “So after Vaughan met Gaia at the practice in Crediton for sex, she must have driven directly to Bristol. It couldn’t have been her car outside Vaughan’s on Friday afternoon.”

  “To be honest, it could have been anyone’s. Mr Mungo Digby’s memory is not entirely reliable. What concerns me is that he has a key to the house. There were no signs of a break-in, more signs of a break-out.”

  “A break-out?” asked Beatrice, confused.

  “Damage around both front and back door frames leads us to believe Mr Mason tried to get out of the house, but whatever reason, he couldn’t. Someone locked him in.”

  “His house is right on the street and is a semi-detached. If he’d wanted to attract attention, he could have banged on the windows or the connecting wall.”

  DI Axe rotated a teaspoon between index finger and thumb, her expression pensive. “But on Saturday afternoon, when his symptoms returned, there was some kind of village fête going on. Would anyone have noticed him?”

  Beatrice rested her forehead on her palm and replayed the events around St Nicholas Day.

  Thursday. Vaughan Mason goes to the butcher’s to buy ingredients for his famous cassoulet. There he meets Gaia Dee. She invites him to her practice the next day, ensuring his guaranteed absence for a couple of hours.

  Friday. Vaughan makes his cassoulet in the morning and leaves to meet Gaia. A vehicle is seen outside his house. He returns and leaves for the pub. Around midnight, he staggers home and eats a portion. He is violently sick in the night but feels better by Saturday morning. Perhaps he recovers his appetite and eats some more. When the poison attacks him again on Saturday afternoon, he is weakened and unable to open the door. Because it is locked from the outside.

  There was only one conclusion. If Gaia Dee was behind Vaughan’s murder, she did not work alone.

  Beatrice’s head snapped up. “What do you mean, her name cropped up in another case?”

  Axe looked around the cafeteria, almost empty at half past midnight. “As you know from experience, it is unprofessional to discuss ongoing investigations. Let’s just say we may have good grounds for revisiting a cold case. Eight years ago, Mr Richard Dee died suddenly, while his wife was away visiting family in Cornwall. The cause of death was a heart attack. Some questions were raised about the condition of his body, but tests were inconclusive.”

  Beatrice stared at her. “My God. She poisoned her own husband?”

  Axe stood up, her face impassive. “I’m ready to call it a night. Shall I get someone to drive you home?”

  “Yes please. I just need to pop to the ladies. One can have too much tea.”

  A hand on his shoulder woke Adrian from an uncomfortable doze in the hospital visitor’s chair. His eyes flicked open to see a nurse’s face.

  “Mr Harvey? Sorry to disturb, but I thought you’d want to know. Your friend is awake now.” She indicated behind her and left the room.

  Will was sitting up in bed, sipping water through a straw. His eyes met Adrian’s and his face performed contortions. In a second, Adrian rushed across the room and held him, so all emotions could be poured onto each other’s shoulders.

  They stayed that way in silence for several minutes, all communication conveyed through breath, kisses, squeezes and strokes.

  Finally, Adrian drew back, holding Will’s shoulders. “How do you feel?

  “Groggy. Confused. What the hell happened? The nurse didn’t tell me anything apart from the fact I had mild hypothermia.”

  Adrian related the events of the previous evening, playing down his fear.

  “She left me there to die.” Will closed his eyes and opened them again. “You must have been out of your mind with worry.”

  “I was terrified. I thought you’d got cold feet.”

  Will’s eyes widened and Adrian realised what he’d just said, then laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation overtook them.

  “I mean I thought you’d left me.”

  Will reached for his hand. “That will never happen, I promise. Remind me, who was it that proposed?”

  “I know, but after total silence all afternoon. I could only think of accidents or you’d changed your mind.”

  “Adrian, I didn’t want to get into this. I asked Beatrice to take it to the police. She convinced me otherwise and I gave in, just to humour her. I thought it would take no more than an hour. The counsellor was perfectly civil and answered all my questions. Even offered me a mince pie. Next thing, I wake up in hospital. My mind is a complete blank and I keep fighting sleep. I don’t remember anything.”

  “You have no idea how you got up in the forest?”

  “None. I think I woke up once because I was so cold and tried to stay awake. Someone had to come eventually because Beatrice knew where I was.” Will’s eyelids drooped, as if reliving the battle with sleep.

  “Except you weren’t. You were freezing to death in some bloody tree house. I could strangle our matron of honour for putting you in this position. Today, of all days.”

  “She wasn’t to know the woman was a psycho. Don’t beat her up about it. Where is she now?”

  “At the police station, I believe. Matthew’s coming to collect me but you’re staying here. Don’t look like that. I would like a couple of hours’ sleep before we get married and you’re going nowhere until the doctor says you’re fit to get
up and marry me. Nothing is more important.”

  The friendly nurse entered with a tray. “Mr Quinn, please eat some soup now. A doctor will see you at eight o’clock and if all is well, you can go home. Mr Harvey, your friend is here. You should get some rest. Big day today.” Her smile was infectious.

  Adrian couldn’t bear to leave and watched Will devour a bowl of soup. He stood, dithering, until a tentative knock at the door interrupted his indecision.

  “Hello, Will, so relieved to see you back in the land of the living. How are you feeling?”

  “Matthew! I’m fine, or soon will be. Sounds like you had an eventful night. Why don’t you knock off and get some sleep?”

  “Because I am determined to ensure both grooms turn up at the wedding. I’m taking Adrian back to The Angel now so he can get some rest. Once the doctors discharge you, I shall come by and we can repair to my cottage. There you can change, freshen up and prepare yourself. A car shall take us to the Manor where we’ll greet the guests and await the groom, bridesmaid and matron of honour.”

  Will saluted with his spoon. “Sounds perfectly organised.”

  “Sleep well and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  With a last embrace of his husband-to-be, Adrian followed Matthew down the stairs and out into the little car park. The snow had stopped.

  “Have you heard from Beatrice?”

  Matthew unlocked the car. “Yes, the police brought her home and she’s now fast asleep, thank the Lord. Sometimes she’s like Huggy Bear. She runs around until she’s exhausted herself then sleeps like a log. If there is such a thing as a snoring log.” He waited till Adrian had fastened his seatbelt then reversed out of the car park. “On that subject, you two have a hatchet to bury. What do you say to Will spending the morning with me? You stay at the pub with Catinca, the guests and sort things out with Beatrice.”