by K T Findlay
He was standing by the entrance gates, where the tar seal met the gravel, when Tom happened to come out his front door.
‘I'm curious Tom,' said Peregrin, 'how anybody could drive the Mini down this gravel drive without you or your wife hearing it. The gravel is awfully thick.’
Tom nodded. 'I don't see how they could either sir, especially since October last year.'
‘Why since then?' asked Peregrin.
'Because that's when we had three big trucks of gravel spread on the drive to make it lovely and thick the way you see it now.'
‘And why did you do that?'
Tom smiled. 'Oh, we were down to the dirt in places, and thin everywhere else. That's okay in summer, but not in winter. The dirt turns to potholes, then the rain gets into them to make puddles, which filthies up peoples’ cars, and makes the potholes bigger. The drive was still smooth, so adding the gravel at that point was the cheapest option. We didn't need a digger or a grader to fix the drive first.’
Peregrin nodded his understanding. 'So when the gravel was thin to non-existent, how easy would it have been for somebody to get a car past you without you are your wife hearing?'
Tom rubbed his chin in thought. 'Well, a lot easier I must admit. But we would still have heard the engine. We always do.'
‘And what if it was being pushed?’ asked Peregrine quietly.
Tom looked startled. 'I never thought of that! I don't remember a car ever being pushed on the drive. If someone tried it now, the gravel would make a hell of a lot of noise, and it’d be really hard work.'
'But a lot easier, and pretty quiet if the drive was largely dirt?’
'Yes sir.’ admitted Tom, who'd gone from looking startled to looking deeply unhappy.
‘Quiet enough for you and your wife not to hear, if it was done at night while you were inside, talking, watching the television?' persisted Peregrin.
'Yes sir. I'm afraid so sir.' said Tom, now hanging his head.
A sympathetic Peregrin patted the man gently on the shoulder. 'Don't feel too bad. If the thief is who I think it is, they make silence an art form.'
◆◆◆
Freddy hung up the phone. ‘That was base. The police have identified Sally’s Mini and there’s an all cars alert gone out to look for it.’
James put down his binoculars. ‘I wonder if she got wind of that and that’s why she stayed home today?’
Freddy tutted. ‘Well, as soon as she sticks it’s nose out of her garage she’ll be nicked. Perhaps we should zip over and get her while we can?’
James looked at him in some surprise. ‘Well well, that’s a turnabout. I thought you were the one worried about what her police friends would do if we did that.’
Freddy nodded slowly. ‘When the police catch up with her now, they’re not going to be her friends. Why don’t we go over this evening and have a bit of a chat?’
James grinned. ‘Fine with me. Shall we take a bottle of wine do you think?’
◆◆◆
On his way back to the police station, Peregrin stopped in at home for a late lunch around 1:30 PM.
‘Well,' he said to Hilary through a corned beef sandwich, 'I think we've found the Mini. This girl Selina gave Helen a phone number that was supposedly in Ipington, but turns out to be for a country house east of Wesser Bech. And what do I find when I go there? A stolen Mini.'
‘Any idea where it is now?' asked Hilary.
‘Nope.' said Peregrin simply. 'But we've got its number and a good description, so it's on everybody's eyeballs. If she moves, we'll get her.'
He took another bite of his sandwich. 'I need to get back to the station to call Helen. If she confirms that Selina drove a Mini, and it meets the description, or better yet matches the number plate, then we’ll be very close to getting her little friend.’
Back at the station, Peregrin read Helen's message and phoned her at 2:30 PM on the dot.
‘Oh, thanks for ringing back inspector. I just wanted to let you know that Selina hasn't shown up for work today. So there's no point in you trying to come round to interview her.’
‘Hm.’ said Peregrin. 'Where does she normally park when she comes to work?'
'She comes to my house at the end of Cobb Lane, the last road before you leave Little Throcking heading west. We then walk down to the studio together.'
'What kind of car does she drive?' asked Peregrin.
‘A Mini van.'
'Is it this registration number?’ asked Peregrin, reading out the number of the stolen car.
‘Yes it is. How did you know that?'
‘And is it British racing Green, with two white stripes on the bonnet?'
'Yes. Right again. How do you know this?'
Peregrin could hear the concern in her voice. ‘That phone number you gave me isn't from Ipington at all. It's a rural number to the east of Throcking. I've just discovered that they are missing a car, a British racing green Mini van with two white stripes, with that registration number.’
A stunned Helen spluttered into the phone. ‘But she's always come down the road from Ipington! I've seen her sometimes out of my window, because I look down onto that road!’
‘Well, maybe she does live out that way somewhere. Once she had the car, she didn't need to drive it from where she stole it. She was clever enough to steal it from somebody who probably wouldn't miss it for a very long time. Because it's taxed and insured, and not reported stolen, she'd be able to drive around and not attract any attention at all.’
'But why?' wailed Helen.
‘Are you sitting down?' he asked gently.
‘Yes.’ she said, sinking down onto one of the kitchen chairs, fearful of what she was about to hear.
'Three people are now dead, all killed in a similar way, all disposed of in a similar way. Andrew Holmes was the first. The second and third victims were both involved in some of Andrew’s cases. While Andrew and the second victim were dumped in suburban streets, the third was dumped on grass down a dirt and stone road. We found some tyre tracks, which I think came from a Mini. Selina is driving around in a stolen Mini, that comes from the same place as the telephone number she gave you.’
He gave Helen time for all of that to sink in.
‘So you think Selina is the killer?' she asked levelly.
‘Not for certain at this point, no. But she certainly looks as if she's had some involvement.’
Helen swore. ‘She's just ruined my business!’
Peregrin moved quickly to calm her fears. 'If you’ve had nothing to do with this, you have nothing to worry about.’
‘Yes I do! I will almost certainly be called to court. The press will be all over me like a rash. Three murders, a beautiful blonde, make that two beautiful blondes, and kinky sex, what British newspaper editor isn't going to want that on his front-page? Even if there are still people who want to see me, who aren't terrified that I'll kill them in my dungeon, they won't dare come because of all the cameras that’ll be around!’
‘Ah.’ said Peregrin. ‘I see your point. I can probably get the Senior Investigating Officer to agree to withholding your name for as long as possible, to buy you some time. But ultimately, it will become public. And policemen aren't perfect, there could be a leak. I can't lie to you about that.’
Helen held her face in her hands, the phone still against her ear. ‘No. I'll have to close it down and get away. I won't even be able to stay at home!’
‘I don't mean to sound callous, but could you help me with a description of Selina?’ interjected Peregrin as gently as he could.
‘Happy to do it! I'll do the very best I can! Bitch! Come round after 5 PM today. I've got a client between now and then.’
◆◆◆
At the very moment that Peregrin was dialling Helen's number, Sally was sitting down to afternoon tea with Hilary and Alison.
‘Peregrin's found Selina's car!' said Hilary excitedly, as she was putting the scones on the table. ‘It's been stolen from a farm house out nea
r Wesser Bech.’
Sally's stomach lurched. 'What? Found the actual car?'
‘Well no,’ admitted Hilary, 'not actually laid hands on it, no. But they know where it came from, and have a full description, including the license plate number. Every cop in the district is looking for it. Peregrin thinks she hasn't a chance now. The moment she tries to go anywhere in it, she’ll be nicked!’
‘Good for Perry. A toast!' said Sally, hoping desperately that the fear in her guts wasn’t showing on her face.
Three cups of tea clinked gently together above the table.
Two scones later, Alison asked Sally. 'How are your seascapes going?'
Sally laughed. 'They’re still going I'm afraid. I have to admit that I'm getting really bored with it now. I should have just committed to a fortnight. I can't see anybody buying two weeks of these, let alone four! I'm getting close to chucking it in I think.'
Hilary handed her another scone. ‘Well, nobody can say you didn't try.’
Sally looked at her watch. 'True. And it's not over for today. I’ll finish this delicious scone and then go home to do that bloody painting! Again!’
By the time she got there, she knew the time had come. She raised the flags for Meet At Dusk at Emma’s Place. Half an hour later, as she was finishing the last board, she was relieved to see Emma's confirmation flag flying above her house.
◆◆◆
‘Two arrows pointing towards each other, a white square on a blue background, and one with a black bottom half and a yellow half circle on top.’ said James.
Freddy looked through his notes. ‘The first two mean meet at Emma’s place. We’ve seen them before. The bottom one’s new. It looks like a sunset, or a sunrise?’
James nibbled his lip. ‘She’s coming over here, that’s the main thing. We’ll stay here to see if she comes this evening. If she does, we listen in and decide what to do based on whatever we hear. If she doesn’t, we’ll go to her place around nine, and have our little chat.’
‘Sounds good to me. Hold the fort, I need to spend a penny.’ called Freddy as he rushed to the loo.
◆◆◆
As soon as it was dark, Sally drove to Emma's for a chat. At Sally's request, Emma immediately picked up the phone and invited two friends to a spur of the moment dinner so they’d have an alibi for their meeting.
The hour they had before the guests arrived was just enough. Sally went over her plans in detail for the next two days, making sure that Emma was crystal clear on everything she would be required to do, and when she was to do it. Some of the timing would be critical. Emma was giving her final recitation of her responsibilities when the doorbell rang.
Sally gave her a grin. ‘Well, we must indeed all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately!’
‘Thomas Jefferson?’ asked Emma.
‘Benjamin Franklin.’ laughed Sally. ‘Wise old bugger.’
◆◆◆
Freddy removed his “ears”. ‘Well, I vote we leave our little chat with Mrs Mellors for a couple of days. If she pulls that little lot off, we’ll get a clear run at her afterwards.’
‘And if she doesn’t?’ asked James.
‘It’s worth the risk.’ said Freddy. ‘I’ve got a feeling.’
‘Oh, well, that’s all right then!’ snapped James sarcastically. ‘That’s just fine!’
22 All kitted up
Wednesday dawned cold with a light drizzle off the sea, which of course Sally painted. Then in the warmth of her garage, she checked out her equipment.
She opened up the secret cupboard and carefully checked each of the four chunky wheels for pressure, then dropped the Range Rover’s rear seats, spread out a protective plastic tarp and loaded in the tyres. Next, she checked her spare bicycle wheels and swapped out the rear. She placed another tarp over the top of the Range Rover wheels, and with a bit of effort loaded the bike, minus its front wheel on top of that, followed by the spare front wheel. The stolen number plates, a small toolset with spanners and screwdrivers, a hydraulic jack and a spray can of white paint completed the load.
She painted the 10 AM board, set up the camera for the rest of the day’s paintings, and then looked to her own personal equipment. After a sustaining lunch, she was ready to go. She wore Selina’s clothes with her own jacket over the top, and Mia’s cosmetics and wig were stored underneath the driver’s seat.
After doing a quick visual check to ensure there was nobody watching, Sally drove out of the garage and trickled quietly down the track to the bottom of her field. Sticking the Range Rover’s nose out as little as possible from the cover of the hedges, she checked the road was clear, then turned right and drove past Throcking Castle heading for Little Dimpton. She didn’t notice a blue Ford Transit pull out of the entrance to Throcking Castle and start to follow her.
Although they had heard exactly what Sally wanted Emma to do that day, Freddy and James had only a vague idea of what Sally was planning to do herself. Freddy’s job was to follow her as far as possible in the Transit to see where she went. They’d picked up that Sally was going to leave the Range Rover out on the moors somewhere, but because she’d said “I’ll leave the car here as we agreed.” while pointing to the map, they had no idea where “here” actually was.
James stayed behind at the castle, tucked up as warmly as possible in his wet weather gear, pretending to be a birdwatcher. The original plan had been for him to cycle down to Sally’s place while they knew for certain she’d be out and about, but seeing her leaving the camera running had put paid to that idea. His job now was to see where she came out at the Throcking end of the moor. It was going to be a long day, but at that point he couldn’t possibly have known how long it would seem.
Several miles north of the Bleak Road turnoff, Sally turned south west into Drunkard’s Lane. It was a narrow, twisty farm road, full of blind bends and fords through mountain streams, then a mile of rutted gravel before it joined Bleak Road above the Sky river headwaters.
Knowing it would be too much of a coincidence for the Transit to follow her onto such a road, Freddy carried on past the intersection for a mile before doing a U-turn. He double checked his map and headed back to Bleak road where he planned to hide the van as well as he could near Drunkard’s Lane so he could watch where she went next.
Sally pulled up in a small, but relatively level layby on the northern side of the third ford. Crucially, the river here was about two feet deep and the stream ran relatively straight on either side of the road. She got out, and walked downstream along the riverbank, peering into the water with great care, looking for branches, boulders and holes which might cause her problems the following day. Satisfied, she returned to the car and began the process of swapping the wheels.
It was a time consuming business, with five nuts per wheel, and the wheels themselves were all big and heavy. But on the plus side, the rain had stopped, and the hydraulic jack sped things up a lot. Twenty five minutes later the work was done, her good wheels stored between the tarps in the back of the car, and her bike back on top.
Once she'd swapped over the number plates and stored her own jacket in the bike’s pack, she set to work on herself. Working carefully with the mirror, she used the lipstick to add four distinctive freckles on her left cheek just below the eyes, and three on the right cheek, a little further down.
Next, she applied mascara primer to both her lashes and eyebrows. She allowed it to dry before applying red eyeliner, and then red mascara to both. Once that had dried, she carefully put on her redhead wig.
Mia, her new character, looked back at her from the mirror, confident and feisty. ‘Just like a redhead should!’ thought Sally. Then she set off once more up Drunkard’s Lane to Bleak Road, where she headed west towards Ipington.
Snuggled into the bushes by the side of the road, Freddy initially thought it was a different car, the redhead disguise, the chunky wheels and the different number plates all creating exactly the illusion Sally was trying to ach
ieve. Only the small paint chips on the driver’s A pillar, and Sally’s profile beneath the makeup gave her away. James’s criticism about Freddy’s failure to correctly see through Selina’s disguise all those months ago had stung, and motivated him to raise his game.
Freddy dashed back to his van. There had been nowhere near the intersection to hide it, so he’d had to take a chance and leave it a hundred yards down Bleak Road to the east, bargaining that she was more likely to go west, further into the moor. The only problem with that was before he’d even restarted the engine, just a little further up the road Sally was turning left into Heaven's Spur, a short dead end road which ended at the top of a bluff, giving fabulous views to the south over the Sky river’s headwaters and out to sea. Sally was already enjoying the view when Freddy raced west in pursuit of a car that was no longer where he thought it was.
Sally waited for an elderly couple in a BMW to photograph each other and leave, before hopping out with the spray can. She ran up to the bluff, and very carefully dropped a plastic object onto a ledge about half way down.
Then with equal care, she sprayed a message on the edge of the tar seal. Stepping back to look at it, she couldn't resist a laugh before returning to the Range Rover to head west again.
To keep with the illusion that Selina came from Ipington, when Sally arrived at the Widow Maker she did a three point turn just past the intersection, so that when she turned into the track, the tyre marks left in the mud clearly showed her coming from the west.
The track’s surface was slick and muddy from the rain, but the chunky treads of the wheels kept Selina firmly in control as she negotiated the twists, bumps, and slopes. On this occasion there was no rush, so she took her time and carefully noted any potentially tricky points for her return trip. Finally she reached the field where she was to leave the car.