Smoke and Mirrors: The next instalment of the riveting Marnie Walker series

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Smoke and Mirrors: The next instalment of the riveting Marnie Walker series Page 30

by Leo McNeir


  A crowd was waiting by the entrance to the field track, held back by two constables as the car turned in. Marnie wondered if the archaeologists had been prevented from continuing their dig. As they bumped down the slope she saw they were still at work and the film crew was in action.

  Marnie guided the driver towards the courtyard, and they parked behind a familiar grey Cavalier. DS Binns and WDC Lamb met them as soon as they climbed out of the car. Binns suggested they talk in the office barn. Marnie announced that she was going to make coffee or tea and went straight to the kitchen area.

  “It’s just the two of you?” Binns asked. “Where’s your assistant?”

  “It’s the weekend, sergeant.. We do have a life outside the office.”

  “We’ll need to talk to her.”

  “I think,” Ralph began, “it would be a good idea if you talked to us.”

  “You know why we’ve brought you back.”

  “One of your colleagues told us that remains had been found on the site.”

  “You don’t seem surprised, sir.”

  “Well, hardly. It would be rather a disappointment if they weren’t, wouldn’t it? We have three dozen or so archaeologists toiling away, a team of geophysicists, numerous other experts, a TV crew and a helicopter. Finding remains is what it’s all about, sergeant.”

  “These were in shallow graves.” Binns invested the words with sinister meaning.

  “Tea or coffee?” Marnie called from the back of the office.

  “I’d prefer tea, if that’s all right, Mrs Walker.”

  “Me too, please, Mar–” Cathy Lamb bit her lip. “Tea for me, please.”

  The atmosphere became more domestic as they pulled chairs round to form a circle. Cathy Lamb opened a notebook. It seemed a very English interrogation, reminding Marnie of a Miss Marple story. She put out a plate of biscuits and poured tea into china cups.

  “Sergeant Binns,” Ralph’s tone was relaxed and conciliatory. “I’m sure you have your procedures, but may I suggest we start from the premise that we are here to help in any way we can and that we are not suspects. I assure you we haven’t murdered anyone and buried them in … shallow graves.”

  “You’re right, professor. We do have procedures. That means I’m required to ask a number of questions.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Were you aware that human remains were buried here?”

  “Not as such, no.”

  “What does that mean, sir?”

  “We’ve been led to believe that all manner of things could be found on the site. That’s why all this is going on.” He indicated the outside.

  “I thought I’d made it clear we weren’t talking of archaeology.”

  “Sergeant Binns.” Marnie put down her tea-cup. “From what you’ve told us, I think you’ve made it clear that’s what you are talking about.”

  “In what way?”

  “First of all, you’re referring to human remains, not bodies.”

  “That’s just a –”

  “I know, I know. But you’re not asking us to establish where we were at a particular time, such as when the people concerned died and were buried in these graves. That suggests two things to me: you don’t know who they are, and they died a long time ago.”

  “That doesn’t necessary follow.”

  “Are the remains in any way connected with those found up at the other grave site?” Ralph asked.

  “I can’t answer that, professor.”

  “Can you tell us where these shallow graves are situated?” Marnie asked.

  “They’re just by your docking area.”

  Marnie looked startled. “By our moorings?”

  Binns reflected. “A little to the north.”

  “That’s all just scrub land, a tangle of undergrowth and old trees by the footpath.”

  “And that explains why the graves weren’t found before now,” Ralph added.

  “How were they found?” Marnie asked. “Can you tell us that?”

  “Part of the survey carried out by archaeologists working for Timeline.”

  “Down there?” Ralph looked doubtful.

  “You didn’t give them permission to go there?”

  “We just let them get on with it,” Marnie said.

  “Coming back to my questions,” Binns paused. “Why did you leave so suddenly?”

  Marnie smiled. “Do you honestly think we were fleeing a crime scene on a narrowboat?”

  “You must admit the timing was odd.”

  “It was pure coincidence.”

  “How old are these remains, these bodies?” Ralph asked. “Do you in fact know how long they’ve been there?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What condition are they in?”

  “I can’t tell you anything about them, sir.”

  “What do you know? What could possibly be suspicious about them?”

  Binns looked Ralph in the eye. “They were found on your land, close to your dock, shortly after you left abruptly without telling anyone you were going. Does that sound suspicious enough for you, sir?”

  *

  Donovan looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. Danny was back on bikini duty on the roof of the boat with Anne sitting beside her, legs dangling over the side.

  “How long have we been here now?” Anne asked. “Half an hour?”

  Donovan nodded. “Just over.”

  “No word from Marnie,” said Danny. “D’you think we ought to carry on?”

  “I don’t like not knowing what’s happened,” said Donovan.

  “Difficult to go back. We could be recognised.”

  Anne looked thoughtful. “Not necessarily.”

  *

  The detectives showed Marnie and Ralph where the graves had been located, an area cordoned off about ten yards from Sally Ann’s dock, a similar distance back from the canal. Neither of them could understand why the Timeline geophysicists had carried out a search in amongst all the undergrowth. Of the graves themselves there was nothing to be seen except a mound of stony soil. Beyond them lay a pile of branches and vegetation.

  The group stood in silence, contemplating the burial site. Marnie was thinking of all the laughter they had shared on and around Sally Ann, while just a short distance away two people lay in their graves, unmourned and forgotten.

  “You didn’t tell us what sex they were,” she said quietly.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Binns said, “They were both male.”

  “And were they –”

  “Mrs Walker, I can’t discuss them with you.”

  “Can you tell us their orientation?” Ralph asked. Realising the ambiguity of his question, he added, “Were they aligned east-west?”

  Binns thought about it. “Yes.”

  “So, Christian burials, then, not witches’ graves.”

  “They were men, sir, as I said.”

  “There are male witches, sergeant. Presumably they would’ve been aligned north-south like female witches.”

  “But, Ralph,” Marnie interjected, “these were surely wearing modern clothes, if the police think we might know something about them.”

  “There are witches around even today,” Ralph reminded her.

  “I suppose so. We’re not getting anywhere, are we? Would anyone mind if I just popped to the loo?”

  Back in the office barn, Marnie went into the toilet and pulled out her mobile.

  *

  No-one paid any attention to the girl who strolled along the towpath into town, wearing pink T-shirt, blue jeans and baseball cap. When she walked onto the bridge and took a camera from her denim duffle bag, passers-by gave her space to take photos. It was a popular view, with all the moored boats creating a colourful spectacle along the bank. She swapped the camera for a small pair of binoculars, leaving the camera dangling from its strap round her neck. Just another tourist.

  Anne spotted Thyrsis about a hundred yards down the line. She slipped the binoculars back into the bag, hois
ted it onto her shoulder and put on sunglasses as she sauntered back to the towpath. Like so many visitors to that part of town, she turned into the entrance of the supermarket and walked through the car park. It ran parallel to the canal for some way. Anne walked straight ahead, glancing occasionally through the planting at the boats attached to bollards on the other side of the path.

  Thyrsis was moored close to the building, level with the parking spaces reserved for parents with small children. The end space was empty. Anne bent down to tie a lace on one of her trainers. She carefully checked the other one before straightening up and heading for the supermarket entrance.

  Inside, she went directly to the toilet block and shut herself into a cubicle. She changed into a yellow T-shirt, swapped the baseball cap for a white sunhat and folded the duffle bag to half its size. She waited a few minutes, enjoying the air-conditioned interior, before leaving to return to Exodos.

  *

  Anne was back on Exodos cleaning the portholes when the mobile began vibrating in her pocket.

  “Hallo?”

  “Anne, listen, I haven’t got long.”

  “Marnie! What’s happened?”

  “We’ve had to come back to Glebe Farm.”

  “How?”

  “The police gave us a lift.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Anne, there isn’t an easy way to break this to you.”

  “Has the place burned down?”

  “No. They’ve found remains.”

  “The archaeologists?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would the police –”

  “Two bodies.” A gasp from Anne. Marnie continued. “In shallow graves.”

  “Oh my God! Where?”

  “You know that overgrown patch beside Sally’s dock, by our path to the bridge?”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Anne, listen, I’ve gotta go. Here’s what I think we should do …”

  *

  Anne relayed the phone conversation with Marnie to the others. Donovan announced that he agreed with Marnie’s plan.

  They cast off and headed south into open country at action stations: Donovan inside, Anne at the tiller, Danny on the roof in her bikini. She turned over on her towel and looked at Anne.

  “Why did you change your clothes in town?”

  “CCTV.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Donovan appeared in the doorway by the counter. “Anyone studying CCTV footage would probably not recognise her as the same person at a glance.”

  Danny looked down at him. “You really take all this seriously, don’t you?”

  “Look, Danny, our friends have just been picked up by the police. Loads of strangers are crawling around Glebe Farm, so anyone could go there on the pretext of watching the filming. The far right are probably looking for me. Which bit of that do you think we should not take seriously?”

  *

  Marnie left the loo and rejoined the others by the new grave site to find Ralph pointing out that he and Marnie were now stranded. The police car that had brought them back to Glebe farm had returned to duty without waiting. Their boat was moored at Leighton Buzzard, several miles away.

  Binns offered them a lift back with Cathy Lamb. They suspected rightly that he hoped Lamb would elicit further information from them on the journey.

  They were just exiting the field gate when Ralph leaned forward from the rear seat.

  “Cathy, there’s absolutely nothing we can tell you about those graves or the remains found in them. I’m sure you know that.”

  Marnie was in the front passenger seat. “I think Sergeant Binns knows it, too.”

  Lamb’s reply was nothing more than a quick sideways glance at Marnie.

  Marnie continued. “So why go to all this trouble, getting us dragged back here from our journey? For goodness sake, we’re only taking a few days off to get away from all the disruption.”

  “I know.” Lamb sounded exasperated. “Those remains are … never mind. I can’t talk about them. But, for what it’s worth – and you mustn’t quote me on this – I don’t think you have anything to do with the remains.”

  “Then why all the –”

  “Listen, I can’t say why because I don’t know why. What I do know is that a lot of people have got the jitters about Knightly St John, and it’s got nothing to do with witchcraft or archaeology.”

  “Do you mean your senior officers?” Ralph asked.

  “I think it goes higher than that, quite a lot higher.”

  *

  After opening all the doors and windows on Thyrsis, Marnie and Ralph stood on the counter and watched Cathy Lamb drive out of the supermarket car park. They waited for several seconds, looking up and down the towpath, wondering if anyone was observing them, wondering if they were becoming as paranoid as Donovan. Concluding that they probably were, but that no-one seemed to be keeping them under surveillance, they untied the mooring ropes and pushed away from the bank.

  To the casual onlooker, they were just another narrowboat setting off on a journey, a tall man at the tiller and a woman perched up on the roof, chatting casually like any couple on a boating holiday.

  Thyrsis took the left-hand bend immediately after the bridge past the water point, then the longer right-hand bend and was soon out of sight.

  *

  “Is this it?” Danny sat up as Exodos slowed and pulled over to the side. “Aren’t we going any further?”

  She scanned the area in all directions. They were in a secluded spot with trees and bushes on both banks. Donovan came out to take the tiller while Anne stepped ashore and tied up fore and aft.

  Danny persisted. “Anne, are you going to explain? What are we doing here?”

  “Waiting for Thyrsis. They’ll be coming to join us shortly.”

  “When?”

  “In half an hour or so, probably, maybe a bit longer.”

  “Anne, I –”

  “Look, Danny, I’ve chosen this place specially for you. You see? I’ve moored in a sunny space so you can sunbathe. Normally I would’ve chosen a shady bank in this heat. Just relax. We’re on holiday.”

  *

  Ralph saw Exodos minutes after clearing the town and smiled to himself at the sight of Danny taking in the sun. It looked as if they had deliberately chosen the sunniest stretch with her in mind. Then he realised that that was exactly what they had planned. The otherwise unusual – some might say sinister – boat looked relatively normal with a girl in a bikini on the roof.

  The five of them gathered in Ralph’s study. Armed with tall glasses of sparkling water with ice and lemon, they sat and reviewed the situation. Anne began by asking for more details about Glebe Farm. Marnie explained, but made no mention of Cathy Lamb’s intuition that people in high places were involved in the developments in Knightly St John.

  “So what now?” Anne asked.

  Donovan looked at Marnie and Ralph. “You’ll be going back to Glebe Farm.”

  Marnie nodded. “I think we have to, yes.”

  Danny was puzzled. “Back? But we’ve only just come away.”

  “They can’t be absent when so much is going on,” Donovan said.

  “What about you?”

  A wry smile from Donovan. “I have to be absent. I’m going back to London.”

  Marnie said, “I think that’s the one tricky aspect of our planning.”

  “No it isn’t. You have to go north; I have to go south. It’s as simple as that.”

  “You have an injured foot,” Marnie pointed out. “And London is the other side of the Chiltern Hills.”

  “The foot’s improving. I can travel solo, go at my own pace at night.” He glanced at Anne. “The stealth narrowboat has its advantages.”

  And so the plan was agreed. The only other piece in the puzzle was Danny, who opted to return with Anne to Glebe Farm. While she lugged her hold-all on to Thyrsis, Anne stayed behind to help Donovan cast off. When Marnie announced they needed to
take on supplies at the supermarket, Anne declared that she would go with Donovan to the next lock, a short way down the cut, to give him a good start to his journey. She could walk back into town and meet them in half an hour.

  Donovan changed into his camouflage gear of light-coloured clothing, plus baseball cap and sunglasses, while Anne steered X O 2 for what she believed would be the last time. He sat on the step inside the doorway.

  Anne looked down at him, flexing his injured foot. “Are you going to manage?”

  “Sure.”

  “I think you’re right to be cautious about security.”

  “I know I am, and you must be, too, Anne.”

  “I’m not likely to forget the time we were attacked by neo-Nazi thugs in Northampton last year.”

  “But we fought back hard. It’s the only way with that sort.”

  Anne frowned. “Even so …” She thought back to the headlines when Brandon was shot in broad daylight, in cold blood.

  “There isn’t any even so, Anne.”

  “But Brandon –”

  “I know, but you can’t think of it like that.”

  “How else can I think of it?”

  “Suppose, just suppose, someone had assassinated Hitler in the 1930s. Perhaps there would’ve been no war, no holocaust.”

  “I’ll try to see it that way.”

  “You think it was wrong?”

  “I find it all very confusing. I just don’t know how it can be justified. But I do know one thing, Donovan. Inspector Bartlett once told me that no murder investigation is ever closed. The police never give up.”

  Donovan looked up at her. “Nor do the Nazis.”

  Anne brought the boat over to the bank and handed the tiller to Donovan while she worked the lock. When Exodos emerged, Anne closed the gate. Donovan held the boat steady on the engine.

  “Do you want me to go with you down to Church lock? It’s not far.”

  “No. You’ve brought me far enough, Anne.”

  “Goodbye, then. Perhaps I’ll see you again some time?”

  “I came back, didn’t I?”

  *

  Marnie had turned Thyrsis round to point north by the time Anne rejoined them. Ralph pushed the boat away from the bank and walked back down the gunwale. Marnie smiled at him, though her thoughts were with Anne, who had gone inside with Danny.

  “Well,” she said, “that’s our summer holiday – a weekend trip to Leighton Buzzard.”

 

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