‘No, but I can make a call for you,’ the solicitor said.
‘There is no one to call.’ Bill looked at Meadows. ‘I’m not saying another word until you guarantee that my chickens will be safe.’
Meadows guessed that Bill cared more about animals than people. Animals weren’t a threat to him, didn’t judge and call him names. To Bill it would feel like leaving a child to fend for itself, he thought. ‘We’ll sort something out even if I have to go and take care of them myself,’ Meadows said.
‘Thank you.’ Bill sat back in his chair.
‘Right, can you tell me where you were on Tuesday evening?’ Edris asked.
‘At home.’
‘All evening?’
‘Yes, looking after the chicks.’
‘Did you go out at all?’ Edris asked.
‘I went to the shop?’
‘What time?’
‘I dunno. I don’t take much notice of the time. I get up when the sun rises and go to bed when I’m tired. It was dark when I went out.’
‘How long after it got dark?’ Edris asked.
Bill shrugged. ‘I put the chickens to bed then went out.’
Meadows sat forward. ‘Did you see Stacey?’
‘Yes, she was in the shop.’
‘What did you do after your shopping?’
‘I went home.’
‘Through the Cwm?’ Meadows asked.
‘No, I stayed on the main road. I don’t go down that way at night. Sometimes there are kids down there after dark, up to no good.’
‘You go that way during the day though,’ Meadows said.
‘Yes, there’s less people.’
‘Did you see Stacey there often?’
‘Yeah, she was always there with her friends, drinking, smoking, and fornicating.’
‘You saw her having intercourse with someone?’ Meadows asked.
‘More than one but not at the same time.’
‘Who?’
‘It’s not for me to say.’
‘It would be really helpful if you told us who Stacey was with,’ Edris said.
The solicitor leaned in and whispered something to Bill. Bill shook his head and looked back at Edris. ‘The man succumbed to sin. He has to ask for forgiveness from the Lord. She was a temptress; the temptation has now been removed.’
‘So, you removed the temptation from this man,’ Edris said.
‘The Lord works in mysterious ways. None of us know how.’
‘It was a human being that killed Stacey Evans, not some deity,’ Meadows said.
‘Yes, acting on God’s instructions.’
‘Have you received instructions from God?’
‘We’ve all received instructions from God. The Holy Bible is our manual.’
‘And the Bible says you shall not kill,’ Edris said.
‘I haven’t. I will go into eternity with a clean conscience.’
Edris leaned forward and said, ‘You’ll have an even cleaner conscience if you help us with our enquiries.’
Meadows suddenly felt weary. He longed to go home, take off his dirty clothes and light up a joint. They didn’t seem to be making any progress and he’d had enough Bible talk for one day. ‘Did you like to watch Stacey?’
Bill frowned. ‘No, what sort of man do you think I am?’
‘But you admit to watching her having intercourse.’
‘I wasn’t watching. She went through the trees and I wanted to see what she was up to. I didn’t hang around.’
‘Did you film Stacey and the man?’
‘No.’
‘We can check your mobile phone and your laptop.’
‘I don’t have a phone or a computer.’
‘You expect us to believe you don’t have a phone,’ Edris said. ‘Everyone has a phone.’
‘I don’t. Why would I carry a thing that spies on you? That’s what they’re for, so they know where you are at all times and listen to you.’
‘Who is they?’
‘The establishment.’
Edris sighed and sat back in the chair.
The solicitor was looking bemused and Meadows imagined that he thought he drew the short straw with this case.
‘Would you be willing to give a DNA sample?’ Meadows asked.
Bill shook his head. ‘No way, you could use that against me.’
‘Only if you killed Stacey Evans. If not, then it would eliminate you from our enquiries and you can go home.’
‘I already told you I didn’t kill her. Why would I?’
‘Because you think that Stacey is responsible for your daughter’s death. We know that Erin was your daughter.’
‘It’s supposed to be a secret. I promised Sarah no one would know.’
‘It’s okay, Sarah told us.’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘To help us. We needed to know. You must have been distraught when Erin died, not being able to show how you felt to anyone. Then there was Stacey, alive, laughing and having fun.’
‘Forgive them for they know not what they do. That’s what Jesus said.’
‘Did you really forgive Stacey?’ Meadows asked.
‘Yes, Erin is okay now. She’s happy.’
‘And Stacey? Do you think she got what she deserved?’
Bill shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s not for me to decide.’
The solicitor made a show of looking at his watch. ‘Are you going to charge my client?’
Meadows stood. ‘We will hold your client overnight. I suggest you persuade him that it’s in his best interests to give a DNA sample.’
‘What about my chickens? You promised. Sarah can see to them in the morning, but I’ll not send her out in the dark.’
‘Your chickens will be taken care of.’
Meadows didn’t like the idea of chasing around chickens in the dark, but he didn’t want to be responsible for a fox taking a few, particularly when they had lovingly been given names.
* * *
The rain was beating against the window and the trees could be seen swaying in the wind when Meadows walked back into the office.
‘Well, is he our man?’ Blackwell asked.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Meadows said.
‘Between the talk of God and chickens it was difficult to get any straight answers,’ Edris added.
‘Hopefully his solicitor can persuade him to give a DNA sample. We’ll know for sure then. Anything come back from forensics?’
‘Yes, they’ve got a profile from the scrapings taken from under Stacey’s nails and from the pubic hair found on her body. It’s been run through the system but there was no match,’ Paskin said. ‘There was also synthetic hair.’
‘From a wig?’ Meadows asked.
‘Looks like it. Short and a mixture of white, grey, and dark brown.’
‘So, he didn’t want the victim to recognise him,’ Valentine said.
‘More likely he disguised himself so he wouldn’t be recognised by potential witnesses,’ Meadows said. ‘I’m guessing he planned to kill Stacey so he would have no need for a disguise. It’s likely he wanted her to know his identity.’
‘Yeah, but he would stand out in the village,’ Blackwell said.
‘Possibly, but if there were witnesses they would just report a stranger,’ Meadows said.
‘Maybe it’s a vain man who is losing his hair so wears a wig all the time,’ Paskin said. The phone rang on her desk, she picked it up and turned away from the group.
‘Nah, can’t see it,’ Blackwell said. ‘Men don’t wear rugs anymore, they just shave it off.’
‘I don’t know,’ Edris said. ‘I wouldn’t want to shave mine off. If it starts to thin out I’m having a transplant or a really good wig. You probably can’t tell the difference now.’
‘Yeah, men spend more time on their hair than women do,’ Valentine said. ‘You can get some really good wigs online now, Blackwell. I can help you if you like.’
‘Bugger off,’ Blackwel
l said. He pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘I’ve got plenty left.’
‘For now.’ Valentine laughed.
‘Okay, so we could be looking at an older man,’ Meadows said. ‘Or possibly a young man who wants to disguise himself as an older man or woman. I suppose if he put on a wig and a pair of glasses he could get away with it.’
‘He could be ill,’ Valentine said. ‘Lost his hair through chemo and doesn’t want anyone to know, or alopecia.’
‘It doesn’t narrow it down,’ Blackwell said. ‘Basically, it could be any man from the village or someone that knows the area very well. What about Bible Bill downstairs? Do you reckon he’s wearing a wig?’
‘No,’ Meadows said. ‘His hair is too long but I guess he could cover it with a wig, perhaps to stop any of his own hair getting on the victim.’
‘That was tech,’ Paskin said as she put down the phone. ‘They’ve tracked the IP address that posted the video on Facebook to Donald Hobson’s house.’
‘That’s what he’s nervous about. He’s been following and filming Stacey so it’s likely that he knows who the guy in the video is.’
‘Or he’s our killer,’ Blackwell said.
‘He’s got an alibi, he was with five people,’ Edris said.
‘We’ll seize his laptop and phone and bring him in for questioning in the morning. While we’re at it, I want a search of Bill’s house and any surrounding buildings. We’re looking for any connection to Stacey or the crime scene. Twine, torn bedsheets, a wig, and a mobile phone. Bill says he doesn’t own one, but he could be lying. I think that’s it for tonight, go home before this storm gets any worse and I’ll see you all in the morning. I’m off to catch some chickens.’
Chapter Eleven
The wind drove the rain into his face and blew off his hood as he battled his way towards the humpback bridge. The water was sloshing around his feet making it difficult to walk. The drains were already full and if the river burst its banks it would flood most of the village.
He didn’t want to be out in this weather, he had other things to worry about, but it would look odd if he didn’t help. He pulled his hat down over his ears and pulled up his hood. The last thing he needed was a cold.
He managed to battle his way to the bridge where there was already a line of men and women on both sides hauling sandbags along the bank. They were joined by the older generation who looked on with torches held in their hands. He took his position and grabbed a sack, twisted, and handed it over. It was hard work and despite the rain and wind he was soon sweating. A rumble of thunder rolled around them, then the sky lit up with a fork of lightning.
Headlights from an approaching car lit up the working party. He stopped to catch his breath as the car came to a halt at the bridge and wound down the window. He was close enough to see and hear the driver talk to Gwyn Rees, the church caretaker, who was organising sandbags.
‘Better turn around, the river is about to burst its banks, you won’t be able to get back through this way,’ Gwyn Rees shouted above the wind.
‘I’ll take the mountain road back. I need to sort out Bill James’ chickens.’
‘I’m not sure Bill will appreciate some stranger hanging around his property. Sorry I can’t let you through. Not until I’ve spoken to Bill.’
‘I’m DI Meadows.’ The driver held out identification. ‘If you’re not going to let me through then perhaps you would be good enough to make sure his property and animals are secure.’
‘I haven’t got time for that now. Fine, go ahead.’
He turned his head away so the detective wouldn’t see him as he drove past.
‘Bloody idiot,’ Gwyn said as he watched Meadows drive over the bridge. ‘If he hadn’t arrested Bill then he wouldn’t have to have come out. Shame we have to deal with this. Would have been a laugh to watch him try and get that lot into a coop.’
He nodded but didn’t comment. He didn’t like the idea of the police being here. What had Bible Bill told them? Could he have seen something? Bill must have helped the police in some way or why would they bother about the chickens? Maybe they had used it as leverage to get information, he thought. He slowly moved away from the line. No one noticed. They would think he needed a rest. Besides the work was nearly done. This was his opportunity to make sure the police stopped meddling in his work.
He hurried back to his house as he tried to come up with a plan. He knew what needed to be done and God would help him, but how? He could take the car, but the detective would see him coming. Maybe he could wait up on the mountain and flag him down. He shook his head. That wouldn’t work. He quickly changed his hat, put on a pair of gloves, and searched around for a weapon. Then he remembered the shotgun. He was glad he had kept it. He knew it would be useful someday. He made a quick call and hurried out of the house.
There was no one around when he slipped through the kissing gate and ran along the footpath. He’d wrapped the gun in an old coat but now wished he had put it in a holdall or at least something easier to carry. He was out of breath when he reached Bill’s farm. He stopped briefly to catch his breath then walked slowly up the dark track. He was grateful for the howling wind, the detective wouldn’t hear him coming.
He could see the torch light swinging as the detective waved his arms herding the chickens to the field behind and into the coops. Meadows had secured the two upper coops and was bending down to slide the bolt on the lower ones when he saw his chance. He unwrapped the gun – he could shoot the detective but he didn’t trust his aim. He didn’t want to kill him, just warn him off. He moved swiftly and brought the barrel of the gun down on the side of Meadows’ head. The detective pitched forward so he delivered another blow to the side of his temple. The detective keeled over onto the ground and groaned. He was only stunned but it was enough for him to have time to do what was needed.
When he was finished he picked up the discarded coat and ran.
* * *
Meadows felt the release of pressure on his back, he tried to get up, but a wave of dizziness overcame him. He felt disorientated in the thick darkness. The sound of squawking chickens mixed with the roaring wind echoed through his head and pain ran down his scalp to the base of his neck. He heard a woman’s voice call out and fear prickled his skin. Whoever hit him was still here and if he didn’t move quickly they would finish the job, he thought. He tried to get up, but a wave of dizziness hit him.
‘Are you alright?’ A light appeared and he shielded his eyes from the glare.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ He tried to stand again, this time using the coop to steady himself.
The light swept across the ground as she came closer. ‘You dropped your torch,’ she said. He saw a hand grab the torch on the ground. She flicked it on and handed it to him.
‘Thanks.’ He shone the torch and saw Sarah Kelly, her hair dripping wet and her face ghostly pale in the torchlight.
‘You’ve had a nasty fall,’ Sarah said. ‘Let me help you.’ She held out her hand.
‘I didn’t fall.’ Meadows shone the torch all around him to make sure there were no branches that could have fallen on him. ‘There was someone here, they hit me over the head.’
‘There’s no one here,’ Sarah said.
‘You must have seen someone.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Were you pulling on my arm?’
‘No, I only just got here and was coming to check on the chickens when I saw you.’
She could be lying, he thought, or maybe she was the one to hit me. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I had a message from Bill to check on the chickens in the morning. I didn’t think anyone would come out tonight, so I thought I better check.’
‘It’s not safe, whoever hit me could still be here. You better get in my car and I’ll call for backup.’
‘If someone did hit you then they are long gone. Look, no one can get into the village, the bridge is closed. It’s pointless calling anyone out now. I have my own
car, let me take you back to my house and clean up that cut on your head.’
Meadows hadn’t realised he was bleeding until Sarah pointed it out. She seemed keen to get him away from the farm and to stop him from getting help to search. The village suddenly felt claustrophobic in the darkness, as if the inhabitants were all in on a secret and conspiring against him. What if she is trying to lure me back to her place and the killer is waiting there? He thought. He rubbed his hands over his face. The knock on the head was making him feel paranoid.
‘I have a first aid kit in my car.’ He flicked the torch around as he walked to the car, but with the small beam it was useless trying to pick out someone hiding. He guessed Sarah was right, there was no point calling anyone out. It would be too dangerous to conduct a search in this storm.
He let Sarah help him clean the wound and apply a dressing then he followed her car back to her house, making sure she was safely inside before taking the mountain road home. The rain lashed against the windscreen making visibility poor. The wind rocked the car and the darkness closed around. Meadows hoped that a sheep didn’t wander into his path. A few cars had gone over the edge of the mountain in the past and he doubted that, if he got into trouble, there would be anyone along this way soon that would spot him. He kept his speed down even though he was desperate to get off the mountain and home. His clothes were soaked, and his head throbbed.
By the time he reached the narrow track that led to his cottage, it was already struggling to contain the water that ran off the fields. The trees were shredding their smaller branches which bounced off the car, and Meadows was relieved to make a final dash into his home and close the door. He made himself a hot drink then retrieved the box that Jerome had given him. He lifted the lid and inhaled the recently cured cannabis. He rolled a joint and sat back in the armchair and inhaled. With each draw on the joint he felt his muscles relax and he let his mind go over the evening’s events.
Who knew he would be at Bill’s farm? Bill could have made a call, but that would be easy to check, he thought. Sarah already admitted she had received a message from Bill. There were plenty of men on the bridge and he had identified himself. He was sure he had seen Donald.
A Knot of Sparrows: a murder mystery set in the heart of the valleys Page 7