But there was another way.
He turned to Harley. ‘Come on,’ he whispered, and for once Harley obeyed him as he led the way to the side of the shed.
The shears were almost within Imogen’s reach. Could she seize them in time?
She took a deep breath. It was now or never.
But before her brain could make her muscles obey, the window in the wall behind Diane crashed open.
Diane spun round, distracted by the noise, and froze as Harley, teeth bared, scrambled through the window.
She raised the shears, but Harley was already on top of her and she fell back. Imogen lunged forward, trying to catch hold of the arm that held the shears, but she was too late. Diane stabbed wildly and Harley fell to the floor, still growling.
Then Adam was at Imogen’s side, twisting Diane’s arm behind her back.
The shears clanged on the stone floor.
Within seconds, the shed was full of people.
Dan, his donkeys left to fend for themselves in the lush grass outside, grabbed Diane’s other arm. She sagged, sobbing, between the two men.
Laura ran to Magnus. Steph followed, stripping off her jacket and held it, bunched tight, against Magnus’s chest.
Imogen knelt beside Harley, sick at heart, as he lay on his side, blood staining his coat. He was no longer growling, but whimpering. ‘Oh, Harley,’ Imogen whispered. ‘What have you done?’
32
Aftermath
For the villagers, Lower Hembrow’s Spring Fair had never been so exciting. One moment the garden was filled with children stuffed with burgers and high on sweets, badgering their cider-drinking parents for more money to spend, and the next, the bucolic calm was shattered by the arrival of an ambulance, sirens blaring, closely followed by a pair of police cars.
Local people gathered to watch as Diane Sandford was led away weeping and loaded into one of the cars, while the ambulance crew took a stretcher into the potting shed and returned carrying a still figure.
‘Is he dead?’ A child cried, quickly shushed. Two police constables ushered the crowds away. ‘Nothing else to see here, ladies and gentlemen.’
The vet left his children with his wife and examined Harley in a hastily-vacated lunch tent. ‘Nothing serious,’ he said. ‘Just a scratch.’ He stroked Harley’s nose. ‘You’ll never be short of a treat, after this, old fellow. You’re the hero of the hour.’
Joe Trevillian, hands on hips, watched from the entrance. ‘Never a dull moment at this hotel,’ he told his children, grinning with ghoulish glee. ‘And that there dog deserves a medal.’
‘Now, come away, Joe,’ Jenny said. ‘You should be ashamed.’ Joe followed, meekly.
Steph, watching with Dan, said. ‘I think we can see who wears the trousers in that house.’
Oswald, nearby, complained loudly. ‘I said they could feed the donkeys in my potting shed. I never said nothing about a fight. I’ll have a few words to say to Mrs Bishop about that later. I hope there’s not too much damage, that’s all I can say.’
Emily and Michael ushered everyone involved away from the potting shed and into the hotel, providing endless comforting cups of tea.
Imogen, Dan, Adam and Steph compared notes.
‘How did you know it was Diane?’ Imogen demanded of Adam. ‘By the way, thank you for rescuing me.’
‘Not me – that was all Harley,’ Adam said. ‘And I didn’t suspect, not for a long time. After all, she’d asked me to investigate. But something didn’t seem right. She was too hysterical, too anxious that Belinda would be blamed for Alex’s death, too tearful. It wasn’t as though she even liked Alex Deacon.’
‘But she’d lost her husband recently, and she’s a nervous kind of person,’ Steph said.
Adam smiled. ‘Yes, that’s what everyone said about her. She was recently widowed, upset when Belinda lost the race, protective of her daughter, scared of horses, twitchy, frightened of her own shadow.’ Everyone in the group nodded.
Adam went on, ‘There’s another way of seeing her personality. She wasn’t just a widow trying to cope with her husband’s death. She was a neurotic woman, having an affair while her husband was dying, eaten up with guilt, unbalanced and desperately jealous of the younger woman – Alex – who stole her lover. She became fixated on her daughter’s success, clinging on to that while her own life fell into pieces around her.’
‘So,’ Steph said, ‘Alex winning that race pushed her over the edge to murder?’
Henry and Ling were sitting nearby. Henry had lost his usual bluster. ‘I told Diane that Alex pulled her horse up to steal the race. I don’t even know if that was true – I said it to cheer her up. If only I’d kept my big mouth shut. She might not have attacked Alex—’
Adam interrupted. ‘You’re not to blame. Diane was already hovering on the brink. There’s a thin dividing line between normal levels of anxiety and psychotic thoughts. I’m no psychologist, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets a short sentence.’
Henry grasped at the idea, visibly relieved. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘The defence shrink will try to pin it all on a psychotic condition. I’ve heard forensic psychiatrists describe similar things in court. There’s a build-up of jealous rage over a long time, until finally, a single event tips the balance and the killer explodes. Diane had no idea, when she went to Wincanton, that she’d finish the day by committing murder. She hadn’t planned it – I bet she hardly even knew what she’d done afterwards.’
‘So, there was no premeditation,’ Steph mused. ‘No planning, and she had no weapon. She must have followed Alex into the stables at the racetrack – there was plenty of time. The others were having a last drink and Belinda was taking a shower and changing, ready to go to the hotel.
Dan, sitting beside Imogen, said, ‘But, why did Diane turn on Magnus today, if she blamed Alex for all her woes? Did something happen at the fair?’
Imogen said, ‘You were busy with the donkey rides, but Adam and I saw Magnus with his hands all over a stable girl. We interrupted him and he stepped away as though nothing had happened, but Diane was there at the time. She must have seen it, too, and realised she wasn’t going to get him back. He’d betrayed her again, and that was simply too much to bear.’
Imogen shivered. ‘It pushed her over the edge again, then?’
Adam shrugged. ‘Who can say? I imagine a psychiatrist will get involved, but ultimately, the jury will decide.’
Steph said, ‘There are a couple of things I don’t understand. Why would Diane kill Ed Collins? Surely she didn’t blame him because his daughter was married to her lover? That’s too twisted, even for Diane’s mixed-up logic.’
‘No,’ Imogen agreed. ‘She had nothing to do with his death. We can let her off that hook. At Ed’s funeral, his wife described what happened in the lambing pens. Ed’s last words were ‘Magnus.’ Ed had been talking about Laura, his daughter, and how proud he was of her. Then he mentioned Alex’s death, and suddenly said, “Magnus. I need to talk to Magnus”.’
She swallowed. ‘What if Ed had seen Magnus once or twice, at the races, standing a bit too close to Alex? Talking about Alex’s death must have reminded him. He suddenly suspected his son-in-law had been unfaithful to Laura. He didn’t know for sure – he wanted to ask Magnus about it. We’ll never know exactly what he meant, or whether that was why he had the heart attack, but it makes perfect sense.’
Imogen went on, ‘There’s something else I remember from Ed’s funeral tea. Magnus was asked who persuaded him to join the syndicate. He didn’t answer, which seemed odd at the time, as it seemed obvious he joined for Laura’s sake. In fact, I suspect he joined to be with Diane.’
‘And, possibly, to be around all the young women at the yard.’ Adam described his conversation with Leo. ‘Magnus and Callum were like an infection; a pair of older men leering over the young female jockeys. Leo will be glad to see the back of them.’
‘It’s Laura I feel most sorry for,’ Imogen said. ‘She ha
d no idea her husband was straying. He had a perfect alibi for all his absences. I bet, when the police talk to the hospital, they’ll find no record he was there, all those times he claimed to be called in for emergencies.’
‘That’s right,’ Adam said. ‘The day I had lunch at Leo’s yard, neither Magnus nor Diane were there. Diane had sent her apologies, saying she couldn’t face it, and Magnus pleaded a call-out from the hospital. I saw him drive past me.’
Ling said, ‘On his way to see Diane. So, Magnus and Diane were carrying on their affair almost in front of our eyes, even after Alex died, and we never noticed a thing. Magnus had no idea he was playing with fire.’
‘One last question,’ Steph said, ‘before we all glaze over with exhaustion. Who hit Mrs Hammond over the head and stole Dan’s laptop? Was it Diane?’
‘Now, that’s interesting,’ said Dan, ‘and I think I know. Do you remember, Imogen, you and I were at Leo’s yard talking to Pat and we showed him the photograph – the one with Belinda. Callum told us that tale about Belinda hurting herself, but he knew his job would be on the line if Leo saw it.’
‘That’s right,’ Adam said. ‘Leo told me he’d given Callum a final warning about his behaviour.’
So,’ Imogen put in, ‘Callum must have pocketed the photo. No wonder we couldn’t find it later, Dan. Then, he left the yard, jumped in his car and drove to your studio. He thought the place would be empty, as we were still at the yard, and he could have a good look around for any more incriminating photos. Unfortunately, Mrs Hammond was there. Callum heard her, panicked, followed her outside and attacked her. Then, on the way out, he grabbed the laptop, in case Dan had more pictures of him there.’
Henry stood up and paced around the room. ‘Not the brightest knife in the drawer, Callum. Hitting an elderly lady over the head won’t endear him to a jury.’
He took a few more steps. ‘What about these racing yards? Leo’s going to have his hands full, getting his place back on track.’
‘That reminds me,’ Steph said. ‘John Harris dropped a few hints about Leo’s yard merging with Ann Clarkson’s. Is there any truth in that?’
Adam chuckled. ‘I don’t know, but having met Leo’s wife, I’m sure any merger would be strictly business. She’s a feisty-looking woman. In any case, I suspect Harris was letting his imagination run away with him.
‘And with any luck,’ he went on, enjoying the thought, ‘the police investigation into Harris buying stolen information will go some way to spoiling his career, even if there’s not enough proof to get a conviction.’
Steph gave a wicked grin. ‘My publishing friend will be giving him a wide berth in future, and she definitely won’t be looking at any trashy book he writes.’
33
Afternoon Tea
‘Do you think, once the dust has settled, Laura will stay with the syndicate?’
Imogen and Adam sat around a table in Adam’s garden, enjoying a private tea party with Steph and Dan.
Steph looked at Imogen. ‘You’ve seen her a few times since the Fair. What do you think?’
‘It’s going to take her a long while to adjust. She’s staying with her mother on the farm, and she says she won’t be seeing Magnus until they meet in court for the divorce. She mostly worried about her boys – they’re devastated. She told them the whole story.’
Adam poured tea from a huge pot and helped himself to one of Wyatt’s doughnuts. ‘At least their father’s not a murderer. Just an adulterer. But that may not be much better, from their point of view, and with Magnus in prison I suspect Laura will have to take them away from their boarding school.’
Steph put in, ’Once Magnus is out of hospital, he’ll be pulled up in front of the General Medical Council, pleading not to be struck off. He was one of the team involved in Rupert’s care during his final illness. Adultery with a patient’s wife could see Magnus lose his licence, so life will never be the same for that family.’
‘Or,’ Dan spread cream and jam on a scone, ‘for Belinda. Imagine, losing your father and then discovering your mother’s a killer.’
Harley interrupted, begging for scraps. Imogen said, ‘I suppose we should indulge you, since you’re the hero of the Fair. But no cake. Dog biscuits only.’
Disappointed, Harley turned his attention to Adam. ‘He knows who’s the weakest link,’ Steph sighed, as Adam slipped half a sausage roll under the table.
‘The thing is,’ Imogen admitted, ‘that despite our best efforts, we didn’t suspect Diane.’
‘Not the best investigators in the world, were we?’ Steph agreed. ‘She took us all in with that innocent, fragile widow act – except for you, Adam. You worked it out.’
‘Only just in time!’
Imogen said, ‘Well, I was running out of options in the potting shed until you came along with Harley. I believe Diane was genuinely willing to stab me with those shears. She’d lost all sense of reality by then. What could have pushed her so far away from any sort of normal behaviour?’
Adam chewed, thoughtfully. ‘Possessiveness and jealousy. She had a long-standing affair with Magnus, cheating on her husband, even while he was sick and dying. Then, when she discovered he’d been with Alex Deacon, she was eaten up with jealousy. The last straw was Alex beating Belinda, Diane’s own daughter, in the race. To everyone else, it was just a race. I spoke to Belinda a few days later, and she was managing to put it behind her, but on the day, it was too much for Diane.’
Steph objected. ‘But, when she thought Belinda was about to be blamed, why didn’t she confess?’
Adam shrugged. ‘You would think she would have, but that would suppose she was thinking clearly. In her muddled, overwrought brain, Diane wanted Belinda’s name cleared and that’s why she came to me. She never asked me to solve the murder, remember. She didn’t want that. No wonder she sobbed with relief when I told her the police were leaning towards accidental death. She thought she was off the hook.’
The others digested these thoughts, along with their tea. ‘Well,’ Dan said at last. ‘I can’t say I’m sorry for Magnus Wilson. In my opinion, he deserved what happened.’
Imogen said, ‘The goings-on in Leo’s yard muddied the picture, didn’t they?’
Adam agreed. ‘Most of that was down to Callum. He was the bad apple in the yard, selling information and spreading rumours about Ann and Leo and their yards, aided and abetted by his crony, John Harris. But Callum wasn’t as clever as he thought. DCI Andrews tells me he’s admitted to the assault on Mrs Hammond and to stealing your laptop, Dan, all because he panicked at the thought of losing his job at the yard and wanted to get rid of the photographic evidence of his canoodling with the young jockeys.’
‘With any luck he’ll get a custodial sentence and be out of circulation for a long while,’ Dan said. ‘Just don’t let me near him.’ His eyes were angry slits. ‘Mrs Hammond’s bounced back, and she’s been cleaning for me again, but I make sure I’m around while she’s there. I won’t leave her alone. Callum deserves a good, long sentence for what he did to her.’
Adam nodded. ‘I agree with you, and so does Leo. He’s delighted to be rid of him.’ He paused, before saying in a more cheerful voice, ‘He’s been trying to persuade me to invest in Butterfly Charm, now Magnus and Diane are both out of the syndicate.’
Steph chuckled. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘Nothing definite, but I’ve been thinking, why not? I’d no idea racing could be so exciting. My old mate, James, is interested too.’ He grinned at Imogen. ‘We were worried about his marriage, but we were barking up the wrong tree.’ Steph and Dan exchanged a puzzled look.
Imogen explained, ‘Oswald saw James’ wife having dinner with another man.’
Adam laughed. ‘Turned out, he was Elinor’s brother and he’s an architect. They were looking around the area for a place to renovate. Elinor was on a mission to get James out of Birmingham, and she’s finally succeeded. He’s going for early retirement and moving nearby.’
He turned to Dan. ‘How’s that painting of Leo’s yard coming along?’
‘Well, since you ask, I’ve brought it along to show you, before it goes to Leo. Hang on a moment.’
He left the garden, jingling his car keys, and returned moments later clutching a heavy canvas. He set it gently on a garden chair, suddenly sheepish. ‘What do you think?’
Steph whistled. ‘It’s gorgeous, Dan.’
Pink Gin, Leo’s champion steeplechaser, stood in the yard with one hoof raised, nostrils flared, eyes bright, as though he couldn’t wait for his next race. But the friends were far more interested in the other horse, half-hidden in the background.
‘It’s a terrific painting,’ Imogen smiled. ‘Pink Gin’s a handsome beast, but for my money, it’s Butterfly Charm that looks like a winner.’
Steph agreed, ‘Especially with Belinda in the saddle. Does Leo know she’s in the picture?’
‘It was his idea. There’s a soft old heart beating behind that tough-guy trainer exterior.’
‘Well,’ Steph looked from Adam to Dan. ‘We might have taken a while to solve the mystery of Alex Deacon’s death, but one or two good things have happened, at least.’ She grinned at Adam. ‘Imogen and I are so relieved you boys have learned to play nicely. It will make a good ending to my book.’
She beamed and reached for the last doughnut. ‘If I ever find time to write it.’
Acknowledgments
To be a writer during the Coronavirus pandemic has been (almost) a blessing, because I can work quietly at home, happily lost in my imaginary world of Lower Hembrow.
However, restricted movement across the UK meant I needed even more expert help than usual with fact checking, and for that I’d like to thank Carol Ridding and Don Stickland along with Caroline Ridding herself, my trusty editor, for the encyclopaedic knowledge of racing they’ve so kindly shared with me.
A Racing Murder (The Ham Hill Murder Mysteries) Page 22