Death on Dartmoor

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Death on Dartmoor Page 16

by Bernie Steadman


  ‘He came in like a tank, knocked Moss onto the ground and beat him up. He got into dreadful trouble from my dad.’ She looked Dan in the eyes. ‘Moss was a scrawny, snot-nosed kid, then, not like later. He never touched me again, but if looks could kill… And he was creepy, kept spiders in a matchbox, killed things and showed them to girls to make us scream.’ She shuddered. ‘Ugh.’

  Dan took her hand and rubbed across the knuckles with his thumb. ‘I can see why you were so happy to see Merlin, your knight in shining armour.’

  ‘But he really is, Dan.’ Claire put her left hand on top of his. ‘He looked out for me for the rest of the time I was at school until he left. By then we were in sixth form and Moss had left already. No job, of course. He started the body-building lark when he was about fifteen but he was still a pain in the neck in the local area, always in trouble.’

  ‘Do you think Moss started building himself up in order to be able to fight his brother?’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Maybe. He’d been humiliated so I suppose that was a good way to build his self-esteem back up.’ She sat up and stared out through the steamy window. ‘Yipes, you don’t think he’s here now, do you?’

  ‘No, but I think he’s got more to worry about than you at the moment if he is. He sustained a sound beating on Friday night, so I imagine he’s licking his wounds.’

  ‘And planning revenge, if I know Moss,’ said Claire, sitting back to receive a mug of frothy coffee and an enormous slice of carrot cake ‘That looks great,’ she said. ‘Do you do all your own baking in that tiny kitchen?’

  The woman smiled warmly at Claire. ‘Thank you. I only started here a few weeks ago, and I love to bake. Yeah, I find this suits me well enough. Long as other people clear up properly after themselves, that is. And that don’t always happen.’ She beamed again and went back to her cake-making.

  ‘Oops,’ said Claire. ‘Do I detect some friction between weekday and weekend staff?’

  ‘Small café politics,’ Dan said, ‘It’ll be hell over the scones and who puts the jam or the cream on first…’

  At five minutes to eleven, they paid and stood near the door, putting on their coats. Through the glass door Dan spotted Moss Garrett coming out of what he presumed was the barn. He was carrying a bale of hay over one shoulder and heading for the goat enclosure. Dan put his hand on Claire’s arm to prevent her from opening the door. ‘Just give it a minute,’ he said. ‘Look.’

  They watched Moss Garrett throw the bale over the fence and into the field. He leapt over after it, took a knife from his back pocket and slit the bindings, spreading the hay on the ground in heaps. Several goats ambled over. He stood for a moment watching them eat, vaulted back over the fence and went back into the barn. ‘He does work here, after all,’ Dan murmured, noting that the knife he used was at least a six-inch blade once extended.

  ‘I didn’t think he understood the concept,’ replied Claire, and they shared a grin, stepping out into the still cool morning sun.

  A few more visitors had arrived since they’d gone in for a drink. Children held parents’ hands and tried to pet the chickens running loose around the grounds. Dan breathed in deeply. ‘I like it here,’ he said.

  ‘Mmm, it’s peaceful, isn’t it, despite the motorway. Horrible to think that Moss is selling drugs here, though.’

  ‘Oh, not here, nearby. But I bet he stores his stuff here. Somewhere his mother and brother won’t look. I’d like to have a look in that barn,’ he said.

  Claire pulled him towards the cattery. ‘Later, here’s Mrs Garrett.’

  Annie Garrett, long fiery hair tied stuffed into a Rastafarian striped hat, held the door into the cattery office open for them. ‘Hello, you must be the people looking for a cat,’ she said. ‘Come in, the pair of you, and shut the door.’

  Dan closed the door behind him and wrinkled his nose at the smell of cat urine. He guessed all catteries smelt like this. He hoped Claire would choose a nice little neutered female.

  Annie produced a wad of paper. ‘I’d like you to fill this in before we go and look at the animals,’ she said. ‘Details of your circumstances, name and address, etcetera. Saves time later.’ She eyed Dan over the top of a pair of tortoiseshell glasses as Claire scanned the adoption forms. ‘Just the one cat is it? Only we’ve got a couple of pairs in. Lovely cats they are, too. Don’t want to split them up if we don’t have to. Oh, and you can’t just have one kitten. That ain’t fair on the animal. And you do know we do a home check and we don’t let any animal go unless we know it’s going to a safe home?’ She folded her arms and leant her bulk against a kitchen counter.

  Dan stared back at her. Did she want to re-home these cats or what? ‘It’s Claire’s choice, not mine,’ he said.

  Claire smiled, looking up from her form-filling. ‘Don’t worry Mrs Garrett, I want a single, older cat who is happy to be left alone while I’m at work.’ She took the printouts from her bag. ‘Could I have a look at these three, please?’ She finished, adding her details to the adoption form and passing it back.

  ‘Come on through, then,’ said Annie Garrett and led them through another door into the main corridor of the cattery. Miaows greeted them. Annie opened the door to run five and shouted at Dan to close the door he’d come through. And it was not a moment too soon as a frisky ginger cat bolted through the run door and prowled the corridor looking for an exit.

  ‘We’ll leave that one out here for a bit,’ she said, ‘he’ll only get in the way.’

  They squashed into a small room with eight waist-high bed spaces. Three were occupied, one was planning the great escape and another one was outside taking the air in the little fenced-in garden space.

  Annie Garrett indicated the tabby. ‘Misty. Aged three, neutered. Belonged to a family with young kids who drove the poor thing potty. They finally brought her in when she started biting the kids.’ She reached into the swathe of blankets and brought out a pretty female cat.

  Dan thought she was cute, but Claire was looking at the corner bed. Peering out from under a fleecy blanket was an enormous white cat, with one blue and one green eye. ‘Can I see this one?’

  Annie huffed, put the tabby back on her bed and lifted up the white cat. He filled her arms. ‘Rufus. Aged eight. Belonged to an old lady who, as you can see, overfed him.’

  Claire tickled him under the chin. Rufus purred. She reached in and picked him out of Annie’s arms and the purring reminded Dan of the sound of an aeroplane taking off.

  ‘He’s a big lad,’ Dan observed, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke the cat’s head. Rufus gazed in adoration at Claire. Dan watched Claire’s face and said, ‘Well, hello Rufus. Looks like you and I are going to be sharing our girl from now on.’ He could have sworn that the cat gave him a look of contemptuous scorn. Dan laughed. He had a feeling Rufus wasn’t used to sharing. ‘I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,’ he said, nodding at Annie. ‘I’m going out to get a bit of fresh air. See you in a few minutes.’

  Claire didn’t respond. She had her nose buried in the soft, white fur and he could have sworn that she was purring, too.

  In the corridor, Dan had to pick the ginger cat up, squeeze through the door, and push the cat back through once he was safely on the other side. He laughed at the cat’s squeal of indignation. I hope Claire’s not biting off more than she can chew, he thought. Slippery characters, cats.

  Outside, there was no sign of Moss, so Dan wandered over and leant against the gate leading into the barn. It wasn’t locked. He could pretend not to have noticed the Keep Out sign. He undid the gate and slipped through into the barn. It was warmer in there, and quiet except for the clucking of chickens and the shuffling of a pair of old goats. He turned a circle looking for anywhere that a person might secrete drugs. What he saw was a large area full of hay, sectioned off sleeping quarters for animals, machinery, pet feed, and… nothing useful. He eyed the loft that ran along half the building. It could be up there. Sally said the bag she had seen Moss bri
ng out of the barn was a sports bag. He brought the photo of it up on his phone. Well-known make, easy to identify, except that thousands would look similar. He looked around again, but could see nothing out of place anywhere in the building.

  Slowly he walked the perimeter of the open space in decreasing circles, eyes scanning up and down. At one place, almost concealed under bales of hay, the floor sounded different under his shoes. He scraped off a little hay and muck, and could see the edge of what looked like plywood. He wondered if the bale that Moss had been carrying had revealed the hiding place. The rest of the floor seemed to be compacted earth. He took a picture, and his flash kicked in automatically. ‘Shit,’ he muttered, put the phone away and got out of the barn at speed.

  Annie Garrett watched him come back through the gate with her arms folded. ‘Didn’t you see the sign?’ she asked. ‘That’s for staff only in there.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Dan. ‘Didn’t see it. There were only a couple of old goats in there anyway.’ He didn’t bother to dazzle her with his smile. He had a feeling that wouldn’t get him anywhere. He took Claire by the hand and waited while she thanked Annie Garrett.

  ‘You know, it’s really weird that she didn’t recognise me at all from school. But then, she’s a mad old bat, anyway.’ She grinned at Dan and gave him a hug.

  ‘Rufus, then?’ he said.

  Claire nodded. ‘Oh, he’s gorgeous. Told you the right cat would choose me,’ she said. ‘They’ll do the home check next Wednesday, so I’ll have to get home early from school, and then I can have him on Saturday, after he’s had his vet check and vaccinations.’ She dragged him back to the car. ‘Come on, let’s go to Pets Are Us, or whatever it’s called, and buy bowls, and a bed for him and some toys, and a cat flap.’

  * * *

  Annie Garrett watched the fancy car reverse and drive slowly over the ruts. She found Merlin in the shop, stocking up. ‘That girl, she’s having Rufus. Can you get a volunteer to do a home check on Wednesday about five o’clock?’

  ‘Claire? Is she? That’s great. He’s an ugly bugger is Rufus, but he’ll sit on your lap all day if you let him.’

  ‘Claire is it? You know her, then?’

  ‘Come on, Ma, we were all at school together. That’s Claire Quick, Mr Quick’s daughter. Moss made her life a misery until I stepped in.’ He sighed and added another dog mug to the shelf. ‘Fancy meeting her here after all this time, only to find she’s got a boyfriend in tow.’ He smiled at his mother. ‘Sod’s law.’

  ‘Yeah, I do remember her now. Bonny little lass she were. Bit skinny for you, I would have thought.’

  ‘Ha, I’m not that fussy, Ma. Any nice woman would do me. No disrespect, but I hadn’t planned on still being here with you and my idiot brother at my age.’

  ‘I thought you liked Dani in the café?’

  Merlin shrugged and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘Yeah, I did. Screwed up, but basically a nice girl.’

  ‘Pity it didn’t work out,’ she said. ‘Left us right in the lurch, when she ran off, she did. Had an argument, did you?’

  ‘It was him, not me, Ma. I know it was. Moss did something to upset her, as usual, and off she took.’ His lips twisted into a bitter grimace. ‘Haven’t heard a word since she went. Have you?’

  ‘No, more’s the pity, and one person can’t work seven days a week in the café. We must find someone else.’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘You know I need you here, Merlin, to help run this business, don’t you? We made this our home, didn’t we, all those years ago? I know you’d like your own place, but there’s room enough here for the three of us, and The Retreat’s going along well enough, isn’t it?’

  He raised shaggy eyebrows. How could she be so blind to things she didn’t want to think about? ‘You know we’re barely keeping afloat. Be realistic. If I had to pay Moss actual wages, we’d go under.’

  Annie gave him a sideways glance. ‘So don’t give him such a bad time over the little bit of wheeling and dealing he gets up to then; he’s helping us out.’

  ‘Little bit of wheeling and dealing? Give me a break. Do you watch the news? A kid has just died from someone’s “little bit of dealing”.’ He clenched his big hands into fists. ‘If I find out Moss had anything to do with that, I’ll kill him. I swear I will, Ma. He’s got no sense. We’ll have the police round and everything.’

  ‘Leave him alone, for Christ’s sake.’ Annie’s face flushed with quick anger. ‘You’re always having a go at him. He brings in more than you ever have.’

  ‘Well, thanks for that, mother. Thanks very much.’ He fought to keep his temper under control, but lost. ‘Fuck me, I do all the work around here and he’s still the favourite.’ He punched the wall, knocking plastic key rings and two dog mugs to the floor. ‘Great, that’s just great. Now look.’ He picked up the dropped gifts and slammed them onto the shelf. ‘At least you never leave me in any doubt as to where I stand in this family. Last, that’s where you stand, Merlin. Last.’

  He pushed past his mother and slapped open the door. ‘Excuse me, I need to get on.’

  31

  Monday morning’s briefing felt completely different from the preceding Friday’s. Dan felt buoyant rather than lost. He, Neil and Claire had enjoyed a drink the night before, and he’d watched them getting on well together. Neil hadn’t told Dan it was his birthday, but Claire had winkled it out of him in ten minutes. And because she was there, he hadn’t got slaughtered, and they’d gone back to her house, and all was well in the Quick–Hellier world.

  He held a mug of hot coffee against his chest and surveyed the whiteboard. It was all still out of his reach, true, but the answers were there, he could feel it. A few things needed to slot into place and he was sure they would have Garrett and Solomon red-handed. Then he’d be happy to let the CPS deal with them as they wished.

  The door crashed open to admit Sally Ellis with a tray of doughnuts closely followed by PC Adam Foster, back from his two weeks in Tiverton. ‘Morning,’ Sally said. ‘Thought we might need sugar for this meeting, and I found this waif on the doorstep.’ She deposited the tray on the table and went to her desk.

  Foster said good morning and shook Dan’s hand. ‘I didn’t have the new door code. Good to see you, sir,’ he said, ‘I gather you’ve been having all the fun without me?’

  ‘Good to have you back, Adam. Hope your stay in Tiverton was enlightening? Grab your notebook and sit down.’

  Sam Knowles flew through the door, mumbled greetings and set his computer going, head down behind the screen.

  ‘Lizzie?’

  ‘Yes, just seen her,’ said Sally. ‘She’s printing out her report in the main office and will be along in a minute.’

  He watched the clock creep to eight as the door banged open again to admit Bill Larcombe, Ben Bennett and Paula Tippett. ‘Let’s make a start. We’ve got lots to do.’

  He waited until Lizzie, mouthing apologies, sank into a chair opposite him. ‘Right, full house. Let’s crack on. Sergeants, Bog Bodies?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Bill Larcombe. ‘We have a lead, at last. You know we sent uniforms round to ask the people you had previously interviewed about the bodies being from New Zealand?’ He paused.

  ‘Get on with it, Bill,’ said Dan.

  ‘Well,’ said Larcombe, ‘seems like the batty old animal stuffer of Topsham really did know the male, so we now think he is actually called Brian. She remembered his accent as soon as the PC told her about it.’

  ‘Hmm…’ said Dan. ‘She was a bit batty. Do you think she really remembered that or was she just saying it to please you, in that way that witnesses have of not being able to remember anything until someone else tells them what they saw?’

  Larcombe shrugged. ‘At least it’s a lead, and… well, you tell it, Paula.’

  Paula’s eyebrows shot up and set her glasses on their usual slide sown her nose. ‘Well, we’re no further on with New Zealand. No couples of that age have been reported missing at all, I’m af
raid. So we can only assume they emigrated here and left their old country behind.’ She sat back in her chair and gave Dan a cautious look. ‘I’m still waiting on immigration data. Sorry.’

  ‘No apologies needed, you’re doing great.’ Dan glanced at Ben Bennett. ‘Warrant?’

  ‘Yeah, boss,’ he said, ‘I’m on it this morning.’

  Lizzie raised an arm, then clutched it to her chest with a wince. ‘Sir, I may have news on the tattoo at last,’ she said.

  ‘Have you hurt yourself, Lizzie?’

  Lizzie turned scarlet. ‘Well,’ she stammered, ‘I couldn’t get anyone to talk to me, so I… well, I got this done on Saturday.’ She rolled up her sleeve to where a large bandage was wrapped around a pad of cotton wadding on her upper arm.

  Sally screeched, ‘Oh, my good God, what have you done? You silly girl. They’re permanent, you know.’

  ‘I was trying to help break the case, and we weren’t getting anywhere.’ Lizzie sat up a little straighter. ‘It’s only a tattoo, sarge. I’ve not had major surgery.’

  Dan grinned at her. ‘Well, no-one doubts your commitment, DC Singh. Let’s have a look, then,’ he said, and leaned across the table to lift up the corner of the bandage. ‘Is it a rose?’ he asked.

  Lizzie carefully removed the bandage to reveal a rose outline, quite small and delicate to Dan’s eyes, on her upper arm.

  ‘Is it just black and white?’ asked Sam, intrigued, despite his resolution to stay cool and detached where Lizzie was concerned.

  ‘No,’ said Lizzie, ‘this is just the outline. I’ll need to go back a few times to put the colours in.’ She winked at Sam. ‘I was wondering if I can charge it to expenses…’ She laughed when she saw Ben Bennett’s face. ‘Just kidding, sarge, I wanted one anyway. I’m just hoping my dad never sees it.’ She replaced the bandage and nestled the sore arm in the other one.

  ‘Anyway, to get back to the briefing, boring though I know it is, what have you learnt?’

  ‘Sir, the tattoo was most likely done at Dave’s Tattorium in South Street. I knew the tattooists all recognised the work before when I asked them, they just wouldn’t tell a police officer anything. They have individual styles, and inks, apparently. It’s quite complicated. Anyway, as soon as I was a punter out to spend cash, one of them gave up Dave Mercer. So I went in and had this done, to make friends. I didn’t ask about our vic’s tattoo. He’s a really nice guy.’

 

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