Dead in Devon

by Stephanie Austin

  It was very late by the time we’d finished our coffee. Richard had insisted on liqueurs but I’d been feeling fretful about going home. It was all right for him, but I had to get up early the next morning and walk the dogs. Eventually I spoke up, and despite his protests that the night was young, he agreed to take me home.

  ‘My carriage is at your service, fair damsel.’

  I couldn’t help noticing that the drive home from Gidleigh Park was a lot more leisurely and unhurried than the drive there. Possibly because Richard had consumed a fair amount of alcohol and didn’t want to arouse interest from patrolling police cars. I couldn’t convince him we were very unlikely to meet any on the roads between Chagford and Ashburton. I got the feeling that he was deliberately taking his time.

  It was a fine, clear night, and the stars were out in force. ‘Wow!’ Richard leant forward over the steering wheel to try and get a better view. ‘You never see them like this in London. Too much light pollution. Let’s just stop a minute.’

  Before I could argue he’d pulled over into a lay-by, stopped the car, got out and was standing, gazing up at the Milky Way above him. Muttering, and drawing my shawl tightly round my bare arms and shoulders, I got out and joined him. It was true the sky was a magnificent sight. I’d rarely seen the stars look so bright and clear, glittering, sharp, pricking the velvet black night. Richard began pointing out constellations, whilst at the same time protesting that he didn’t know anything about astronomy. My shawl clutched around me I soon began to shiver and reminded him of my need to be up early. Apologising, he got back in the car, but I still couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was deliberately wasting time.

  I felt profound relief when we drew up outside the house. But whatever I felt about Richard, or he felt about me for that matter, he had treated me to a fabulous and expensive dinner. ‘Thank you,’ I said, and leant across to kiss him lightly on his bearded cheek. He turned his head, cupping my chin with a swift motion and kissed me on the lips. It was not at all unpleasant and the swift efficiency with which he had accomplished the manoeuvre took me by surprise. ‘Well!’ I breathed.

  He kissed me again, in a rather more leisurely fashion and I let him. Possibly it was the wine I had drunk during the evening, but kissing him suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

  He drew back and looked down at me. ‘God, but you’re beautiful!’

  That was it, the brief illusion of romance shattered, split asunder by my loud crack of laughter. ‘And impossible!’ he added, leaning across me to open the car door. Giggling, I got out. Then I turned to look back at him, serious again. ‘I still haven’t made up my mind about the shop and the flat …’

  ‘Just take it, why not?’ Richard shrugged. ‘It was what the old man wanted.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘I promise you, there won’t be any fuss from Helena and Harry. I’ll make sure of that.’

  I nodded and thanked him, trying to stifle a hippo-sized yawn.

  He laughed. ‘Get to bed!’

  I closed the car door and ran up the steps, waved as I reached the doorstep, and he started the engine. The front door was unlocked. Kate had left it that way in case I’d forgotten my keys. I never have, to my knowledge, but it is a possibility that seems to obsess her.

  Inside, the house was in darkness. I guessed she and Adam were already in bed. She must have been making flapjacks during the evening because the smell of apple and cinnamon lingered temptingly in the hallway. I tiptoed up the stairs, trying not to make too much noise. There was no need to switch on the light. Enough orange glow came from the solitary lamp post outside the house, shining in through the landing window, for me to see well enough as I fumbled for my keys.

  As it turned out, I hadn’t locked my door anyway. Not like me to forget, but I’d had a stressful day. I dumped my bag and keys in the nearest armchair, kicked off my shoes and padded over to the bookcase with the intention of switching on the table lamp that stood on it.

  I didn’t make it to the switch. I froze with a clutching feeling of horror in the pit of my stomach and the absolute certain knowledge that I wasn’t alone. Someone was in the darkness with me, someone breathing softly, someone close.

  ‘Who’s there?’ My voice sounded sharp with fear. I reached out for the lamp and a sudden violent shove sent me toppling forward. I fell against the bookcase and the lamp crashed to the floor. Swift footsteps crossed the room, I heard the door open.

  I struggled to my knees in time to see a figure silhouetted in the doorway, illuminated by the orange lamplight.

  ‘Hey!’ I yelled.

  It turned to look at me, eyes glittering over a ski mask. I staggered to my feet and scrambled towards the door. I didn’t see what the figure was holding until it was too late: a heavy, rubber-covered torch. I saw the glass disc, a blinding circle of white light as the figure raised its arm. I saw it in a sweeping blur as I averted my face and it hit me hard across the side of the head. I didn’t see anything after that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Three blurred faces were hanging over me. I blinked as Adam, Kate and Richard swam into focus.

  ‘It’s all right, Juno,’ Kate told me reassuringly. ‘You’re going to be all right.’

  I wondered what in the hell she was talking about, why she was in her dressing gown and why she was holding my hand. ‘The ambulance is on its way,’ she said brightly, as if she was announcing some special treat. As she leant forward her long, dark plait swung down and brushed my face.

  I twitched it away irritably. ‘What ambulance?’ I had a dull, throbbing ache at the back of my skull and it took me some moments to connect this, and the fact I seemed to be lying on the sofa in the downstairs living room, with the approaching conveyance. ‘I don’t need an ambulance,’ I said, struggling up on to my elbows.

  ‘Oh, be careful!’ she squeaked.

  ‘I said she didn’t need an ambulance.’ Adam spoke with obvious disgust. ‘She’s only been out for a minute.’

  ‘She was unconscious!’ Kate protested dramatically.

  ‘She fainted,’ he sneered.

  ‘How are you feeling, Juno?’ Richard helped me to sit up, propping sofa cushions behind my back. I moaned, putting a hand to the back of my head. I discovered a very sore place and took it away again. ‘Steady now,’ he advised, ‘I’d keep still if I were you.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I was still struggling to understand what was going on.

  ‘I had just turned the car around,’ he explained, ‘was barely halfway down the street, when I looked in the mirror and saw this masked figure rush out of your front door.’

  I accepted a cold compress from Kate, a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, and held it to the back of my head. ‘Why didn’t you go after him?’ I asked, wincing.

  ‘I was rather more concerned about you, my girl. I thought you might have had a visit from one of your Russian friends. But by the time I got back here, these two good folks were already to the rescue.’

  I thought Adam gave him a rather questioning look, but all he said was, ‘Yeah, hell of a racket you made, Juno.’

  There was another hell of a racket then, on the front door. ‘That’ll be the ambulance.’ Kate jumped up to answer it. ‘And the police!’

  ‘Why didn’t you call the sodding fire brigade as well?’ Adam demanded gruffly.

  ‘I didn’t call the police,’ Kate responded in a cross whisper, ‘but when I said that Juno had been struck over the head by someone, the lady in the control room said she would be sending them anyway!’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you say she’d just fallen?’ he whispered back.

  ‘Because she didn’t!’ Kate whispered fiercely as the knocking on the door continued. ‘The police should be here. Richard is right, it could have been one of those Russians!’ And she flounced off to open the door.

  The girls in green and the boys in blue arrived together; the policemen waiting patiently while a very calm lady par
amedic inspected the bump on my head, shone a little pencil torch in each eye and asked me sane and sensible questions. I assured her I didn’t feel nauseous or have ringing in my ears and wasn’t seeing double. She said I’d been lucky, it could only have been a glancing blow, I didn’t have to go to casualty if I didn’t want to. Barring a bruise and a headache, I’d probably be fine. On the other hand, if I experienced any blurring of the vision or nausea, that might be a sign of delayed concussion blah-de-blah. I barely listened. I’d picked up enough elderly people who’d bumped their heads and I’d heard it all before. She left fairly promptly.

  As luck wouldn’t have it, the boys in blue turned out to be the same ones I’d encountered up on the moor. I remembered them distinctly and, unfortunately, they remembered me. Why this should make me feel guilty and uncomfortable, I can’t imagine, but it did. They seemed to take ages, taking statements. I told them everything I’d seen and so did Richard, but I got the feeling they didn’t believe me, any more than when they’d questioned me that day on the moor.

  ‘And neither of you saw this person’s face?’ This was the officer who’d driven the car before.

  No, we repeated, neither of us had. ‘I just saw this man in dark clothes – it was definitely a man – leave the house in a hurry,’ Richard told them. ‘I didn’t get a look at his face.’

  The police turned their attention to Kate, who was bursting to speak, hopping from one foot to another like an excited wallaby. ‘Well, we were in bed, you see,’ she began, rolling her eyeballs dramatically, ‘and we heard this noise – this terrible crash – from upstairs. We sleep in the room underneath. And Juno called out, and then there was this noise on the landing – sort of bumping – and we heard someone run down the stairs and open the front door. And of course we got up, just to check, and the front door was wide open and Juno was lying on the landing. And Adam went to the front door and saw this figure in black scrambling through the hedge.’

  The policeman studied Adam. ‘And you didn’t attempt to follow him, sir?’

  Adam looked down at his striped nightshirt, bare, hairy legs and slipperless feet. ‘No,’ he said acidly.

  ‘And you’ve nothing else to add?’

  ‘No.’ Adam didn’t like having police in his house. He wasn’t going to add anything that might encourage them to hang around. But if I rolled my own joints from a plant on my kitchen windowsill, neither would I.

  Kate babbled on like a little stream. ‘The thing is … well, the thing is … I think I must have heard him – the intruder – coming in. Only I thought it must be Juno, creeping up the stairs so as not to wake us.’

  ‘Coming in through the front door? Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’d left it unlocked.’

  The policeman paused and gave her what I can only describe as an old-fashioned look.

  ‘I nearly called out goodnight,’ she rattled on, ‘but I didn’t.’

  The policeman cleared his throat. ‘And what time was this?’

  ‘Well, it couldn’t have been long before Juno came in, because I swear I’d only just dozed off when we heard the rumpus … perhaps, half an hour?’

  Half an hour? For half an hour that man had been lurking in my flat? Doing what? Robbing me, or just waiting? I thought I’d better speak up, ‘I didn’t get a chance to see what state the flat’s in. I don’t know if anything’s been taken … not that there’s anything up there worth stealing.’

  The police officer taking statements nodded to his colleague who disappeared upstairs to check things out.

  ‘You were just unlucky, Juno,’ Richard said. ‘You surprised an opportunist thief, that’s all.’

  ‘Opportunist?’ Kate raised her eyebrows, ‘with a torch and in a ski mask?’

  ‘Fairly standard burglar equipment, I would have thought,’ he answered.

  The police officer came back to report that, apart from the broken lamp, everything in the flat appeared neat and tidy. If there had been a search, it must have been a careful one. But of course, I’d need to go up myself to see if anything was missing.

  I didn’t want to, my head ached and I was longing for my bed, but I knew I had to come clean. I didn’t believe that the person I’d encountered in my flat had been either Vlad or Igor, but I knew I had to tell these officers about them, of my connection to Nick and the investigation into his murder. I also threw in the murder of Bert Evans.

  It was as if I’d pressed an alarm bell. Suddenly, everything moved into a different gear. The policeman started speaking into his radio. He was answered by a disembodied alien parked on Mars, but he seemed to understand it well enough.

  ‘A detective will be on the way from headquarters,’ he informed us, ‘and someone to dust for fingerprints.’

  ‘Now?’ Adam asked in disgust. He had to be up early, to start preparing breakfasts at Sunflowers, and it was already close on one in the morning.

  ‘I’m afraid so. Now sir, perhaps you could show us where this potential murder suspect disappeared through this hedge?’

  ‘Surely, Richard can leave?’ I was sure he was longing to get back to his hotel. After taking his contact details, the officer agreed that he could go, warning him that he might need to go over his statement again in the morning.

  ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, Juno,’ he promised, squeezing my shoulder. ‘Try to get some rest. And don’t worry. This was probably just a random burglary. No connection to anything more sinister.’

  Shortly after he’d gone, the detective arrived. Not, unfortunately, Inspector Ford, but Constable DeVille. She was accompanied by a uniformed officer, a police dog handler, and another of the white-suited aliens who went upstairs to dust my flat for fingerprints while the police dog and his handler rooted about outside in the hedge.

  After briefly talking to the first officers who’d turned up, she dismissed them, read through my statement, and made me repeat it all for her benefit. I got the impression she was enjoying herself. ‘And despite the fact you didn’t see this man’s face, you are confident it was not either of these two foreign gentlemen you encountered on the moor?’

  ‘As confident as I can be. Wrong size, wrong shape … just not the same.’ Something about that intruder was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I was convinced of one thing: it wasn’t Igor or Vlad.

  ‘You didn’t hear him speak?’

  I shook my head, then regretted such impetuous movement. ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Juno?’ Kate asked. ‘You’re looking ever so pale.’ She turned to Detective Constable DeVille. ‘Is this going to take very much longer?’ she demanded. ‘Juno should really be in bed.’

  Cruella put away her notebook. ‘No, that’s all my questions for now.’ She turned to me. ‘Do you have anywhere to stay the night, Miss Browne?’

  ‘Stay the night?’ I repeated dumbly.

  ‘Well you can’t go back in your flat until forensics have finished and that won’t be for a while, I’m afraid.’ I suppose she couldn’t help the little smirk.

  ‘Don’t worry, Juno, you can sleep in our spare room,’ Kate told me. ‘Now, I really think it’s time you went to bed.’

  The detective constable didn’t argue. Graciously she agreed to my retiring and left the premises, warning me that she might be back to see me again in the morning.

  Kate relieved me of the now soggy bag of peas and fussed over me all the way to the spare room, which lay next to their kitchen. I let myself be fussed over, I didn’t have the energy to resist. She brought me tea, aspirins and a T-shirt of Adam’s to sleep in.

  I lay awake for hours, listening to footsteps tramping up and down the stairs. Once I swear I heard the police dog panting in the hall. When the police left, I could hear Kate was tidying up in the kitchen, talking in a whisper that would have reached the back row of any auditorium.

  ‘So, you don’t think,’ she was asking Adam, ‘that this intruder was the same man who broke into Nick’s an
d killed him and that he was looking for something he didn’t find?’

  Adam’s only reply was a long, drawn-out yawn.

  ‘And that whoever-it-is – the murderer I mean,’ Kate prattled on, ‘thinks that Juno’s got it now, this thing that he was searching for?’

  ‘We don’t know Nick’s killer was searching for anything,’ Adam replied testily. ‘He wasn’t robbed … Christ, I’m going to bed. I’ve got to get up in two and a half hours.’

  ‘Just because Nick wasn’t robbed, doesn’t mean the murderer wasn’t looking for something.’ Kate was babbling on unstoppably as she turned off the kitchen light and followed him to their bedroom.

  After the house had quietened down, I listened to my own head throbbing. Had I been wrong all along about Vlad and Igor? Could Richard have killed his father? Had they quarrelled, had Nick refused a request for money? During dinner I had glimpsed a darker nature beneath the amiable idiot that Richard tried so hard to portray, but that didn’t mean he was a murderer. There was Helena, of course. She’d hated Nick apparently − could she and Richard have conspired together? Were they lying about the true value of the rings? Could Helena have committed the murder on her own? If she had, she must be a pretty cool customer. And surely, neither she nor Richard had murdered Bert. Perhaps their deaths weren’t connected after all, perhaps it was just a grotesque coincidence.

  Something rustled in the room and a moment later Bill landed lightly on my stomach, shredding what was left of my nerves. He was overjoyed to have found me, his paws padding up and down on my sternum, and set up a saw-like purr. I stroked his head idly with one hand. After several minutes of delirious padding, he tucked his paws primly under him and slept.

  Something about Richard’s account of things that evening bothered me. He had turned his car around, he said, and was just driving away up the road when he’d happened to glance in his rear-view mirror and seen a masked man – ‘It was definitely a man’, those were his words – leaving by the front door.