“You think the danger is real then?” I asked him. He nodded as he threw his cigarette end out of the window.
“We made a mistake at the Museum asking about those old prints and Kents Cavern and her going there the next day was an alarm bell for them I'm sure. Two visits in two days. They will not see that as coincidence. I worry about the ring. If they think she knows what that ring signifies they will be very quick to stop her talking to you about it.”
I was wondering where the hell Ann was, she’d been gone for nearly ten minutes.
“There's another possibility too.” I said. “Her picture was in the newspapers at the time of the original discovery of the girl. If the Curator had a good enough memory he might just have recognised her.”
Leon's face mirrored his concern. “That’s definitely not good. Let's assume that he did then. First he recognises her, then she asks about Ilsham Chapel and then maybe he sees her looking at his ring. He knows she's seen the paintings on the girl she autopsied. He knows she'll recognise the symbols they use. That leaves us asking how they would know where to find her? He was lighting another awful cigarette but I couldn't do two of them. I wished I had one of my own but I never buy the bloody things - I just steal other peoples.
At last the door opened and Ann came out suitably dressed for Arctic exploration. Of course, she looked great - modelling for Rossignol or Atomic, couldn't possibly go hunting Satanists in a snowstorm unless she looked like some super model on her way to the Après-ski Ball of the year in St Moritz. “I wonder who she is trying to impress.” I said, deliberately looking out of the window my side and away from her as I started to shake my head slowly.
There was a not too gentle slap on the side of my thigh. “Ok so we both have women trouble! What else is new? Leon laughed.
“Give me another one of those chemical warfare cigarettes.” I said. And then as an afterthought. “It's Ok if you want to sit in the back too you know.” The look he gave me was definitely not conducive to European unity!
Ann climbed in. “Pete Selway is meeting us at the Station. He has a Range Rover and we're borrowing it until tomorrow.” She told us, and I understood where the quarter of an hour had gone. I was grateful to her. My Honda's a great car but hill climbing in the snow was not really what it was intended for.
It was only a short drive up to the Police Station and I pulled around the corner and turned into the rear car park. The white Land Rover was parked on the left, lights on and windscreen wipers battling the increasingly heavy snowfall. Pete was standing there waiting for us oblivious it seemed to the conditions. He was wearing all his heavy weather gear just as he would have been to be working on 'Motorway Duty' on a night like this. He could long ago have made it into plain clothes but he preferred the roads and all the nightmares they bring; a car man through and through.
We climbed out and he was already getting into the driver's seat of his Land Rover. I went to the widow. “This isn't official business Pete.” I said. But I'm really grateful for the Rover. You don't need to come with it; I'll see it's not damaged.”
“I got the low down from Ann. It'll be bad after Bovey Tracey so I'll drive.” He looked out of the window at me seriously. “That's what I do Inspector, drive.” He told me. “So I'm driving and you have to go in the back Boss Sorry!” If he was sorry I was a dancing trawler-man.
“Yeah you go in the back,” Leon said pointedly, “what a good idea that is!” He smirked at me and I could have slapped his silly Belgian ear hole. He had taken my fleece lined jacked from the Honda and on him it looked like something from Pierre Cardin's new collection. Bastard!
I knew they wouldn't budge so I got in beside Ann and as Leon turned to speak to us I edged as close to her as I could get without getting a very Australian reaction. He glared at me and then laughed. Reminding me of what a warm human being he was. He was trying to distract my thoughts from Juliet and he had almost succeeded too.
The Jeep took off under the control of one of the best drivers in the South West of England. If two inches of snow meant anything to him it didn't show. They just drive differently; you have to do it day in and day out, battling the madness that is rush hour Motorway Britain to be in that league.
Leon turned and looked at us. “Everyone comfy back there?” he asked. The devilment in his eyes was not lost on Ann Taylor.
She looked at the pair of us. “You can pack it up both of you!” She was smiling that lovely smile again but it wasn't for me. I noticed that the smile was deep in her eyes as she looked at him now and I wondered where they'd found the time to become lovers. That they were was unquestionable. You don't have that sort of smile for your friends.
I was happy for them. It should be like that - uncomplicated and spontaneous. It's amazing how insightful you can be in hindsight.
Pete Selway's concentration was total and the speed limit was tested despite the conditions. The Penn Inn Roundabout was behind us before I was finished telling them all everything I knew about Juliet's secluded choice of dwelling place. I described the house and steep drive from the road below. That's where the Rover would be put to the test. It was really steep and could be slippery even in wet weather. In this crap it would be a challenge even to Pete.
The centre of Newton Abbot gave us some clear roads and then we were on the Stover Road, wending our way past Stover Golf Club and around the roundabout onto the Bovey Straits. Suddenly the conditions hardened against us. The snow was falling heavily, big hefty snowflakes that would add to the three inches below the tyres.
A Fallow Deer darting across the road caused us a moment of tension but it was gone into the grey blanket with eight eyes losing it as soon as they saw it. We were all watching the road but as we hurried on I was telling them what I had read and about the notes Juliet had left for me that morning. I felt a bit ridiculous going on about Black Magic and levels of competence of Satanists and black magicians but to my surprise Pete was not sceptical at all.
“Had a case like that in Gloucester once Inspector. Not murder but a lot of young girls tricked into performing all sorts of half-naked ceremonial tricks whist they were secretly filmed. One of the fathers bought a porno film at his local social club and when he took it home he and his wife got something of a shock! Their daughter had a starring role and Daddy brought the film to us. We rounded them all up but couldn't get a single one of them to make a complaint. Damnedest thing you ever encountered. It was like they had all been completely struck dumb. There was a real fear amongst them and we never got round it, had to drop the whole thing because they wouldn’t help and the daughter wouldn't prosecute. Whoever put that operation together was certainly ruling it with real and genuine fear; we never got a hint as to who it was!”
He broke off to negotiate his way through Bovey and onto the Moretonhamstead Road.
“About a month after we started investigations the guy that was selling the films turns up standing on the edge of the top floor of the multi storey car park praising the Lord and asking for salvation. He landed on an ice cream van.”
The road needed all his concentration then and there was silence for a few minutes as for the first time we lost traction and skidded a bit. Pete was forced to slow down. The visibility was down to about six metres at most. Slow became crawl as we got onto a more exposed stretch and the driving was further hampered by heavier snow that was testing the ability of the windscreen wipers.
We were somewhere close to Hawk-moor I knew, not far now before the turn for Juliet's farm track. It was hard enough to find in sunshine; in these conditions the only thing to do was slow even more. It was frustrating and I could see that Leon was as bothered by the delay as myself. His whole posture was tense.
He turned. “Do we just charge in or do we approach unseen?”
I had to think about that but in the end we decided between us that it was about Juliet's safety not about catching criminals. They'd probably hear our approach and take off anyway.
There were lights co
ming the other way from Moretonhampstead for the first time since we had left Bovey Tracey. Pete slowed even further, passing would be risky on the slippery surface but his caution was not reflected by the drivers of either of the vehicles that passed us. They were both driving much too fast for the conditions. Leon swung round quickly and watched them go into the distance, then he looked hard at me. I knew what he was thinking but there was nothing we could do but go on. Our suspicions of them would have to be held over until we knew what the situation ahead was.
“SA 666 TAN” Ann said, and we both turned to look at her. “The Lexus.” she said. I didn't get the Mercedes.”
How the hell she did that in the conditions was beyond me. I wasn't the only one. Leon gave me a look with raised eyebrows.
It was about a minute later that Pete slowed and stopped completely. I could see no reason for him to stop and was going to lean forward and look when he turned to Ann, “what was that number again?”
“SA 666 TAN” She told him. “That's what I thought you said. I was just running it through my memory; I can remember the numbers of the cars I stop for days afterwards. Sometimes you stop the same silly buggers three times in a week; no licence, or insurance or a driving ban, it pays to remember them. But it's the letters,” he said and looked at me. “S.A.T.A.N.
“Fuck!” Leon said.
It was too late to go after them and we hurried on. Pete was taking risks all the way now, touching forty and braking hard as the corners came out of the snow without warning. Once or twice we slid into or out of a curve and I thought he'd lose it but he never did, his reactions were always natural, never exaggerated, the gears constantly changing, the brakes rarely used at all.
Juliet's track caught us at just the right moment for us to spot it as Pete had slowed to let a motorcycle pass. What madman would be trying to ride a motor cycle on a night like this? I heard Pete mutter something about bloody idiots and then we were moving uphill on broken ground and immediately the challenge of the climb made itself apparent. We hadn't gone a hundred yards when the rear wheels slid away and we almost crashed against the hedgerow.
Slowed almost to a stop Leon suddenly sat forwards and pointed. “Someone else was here. There are tracks where they slid. “Look!” He was right and we saw them several times as we struggled upwards.
Pete knew his vehicle and his trade. Slowly he picked his way upwards using the contours of the track to assist his passage and the gears to aid our traction. It was an impressive display.
The flat ground before the house was suddenly there and I called out “stop!” The windows were blazing light and although we couldn't see clearly I knew there was definitely something wrong. There were footprints everywhere and there was no way Juliet would be out walking around in this weather.
I was out of the car and running for the house but Leon got to the door first. It was locked so we turned and came back across the front of the house and around the side. We both stopped at the same time and so abruptly that Ann Taylor bumped right into me. There was a body laid in the snow and blood everywhere. Somebody had been shot at close quarters and the result for his face and head was unfortunate to say the least. The shot had come through what was left of the bathroom window. The light from the bathroom illuminated him like a searchlight in the darkness.
He was laid on his back, gloved hands on the end of outstretched arms. I thought he lay where the blast had blown him, dead in an instant. The knowledge that this had happened at Juliet's made my stomach knot painfully. I was quickly gone around to the back door but that was locked too.
I hammered on it for all I was worth calling out her name repeatedly until Ann caught hold of my arm and squeezed. “We can climb through the bathroom window faster.” She said, and turned to go back.
As we turned the corner of the house I saw Pete assisting Leon to get through the window, they were hampered by the body laid outside of it. He disappeared before we got there and I was quickly after him and into the familiar bathroom.
I left Ann to her own devices and went after Leon into the kitchen.
He was standing beside the long table and he pointed. On the floor was a 410 shotgun which I recognised. It had been Tim's and I had used it myself several times. There was an enormous fire blazing in the hearth. It was piled dangerously high and was throwing out considerable heat.
We retraced our steps past the bathroom and into an empty bedroom. I opened the wardrobe and looked under the bed. She wasn't there and my heart was sinking fast, I was in something of a panic as I got back into the hallway and saw Leon bending down. He beckoned me and pointed to two wedges that had been driven under the door that led to the body of the big house. Above them the door was riddled with shotgun pellets. He pointed; they spread along the wall almost as far as the front door.
“She barricaded herself into this part of the house.” He said simply, sure of himself. He stood up and went to the front door and looked at the bolts. “The back door is bolted top and bottom too.” he said, and I was amazed that he could take in such detail in so short a space of time. Not for the first time I was struck by Henry's ability. Interpol chose their officers well.
“She tried to fight them off and then when they tried to break in, she shot that man outside. That was a shot through the window. She would have known that shot would probably kill or at least maim someone. She also fired at this door, probably just before she put the wedges under it. She must have understood her true danger to have been prepared to use the gun like that.”
We walked back into the kitchen and my own mind was working better now. My nerves settling as I tried to be a trained policeman. There were candles everywhere; I'd never seen so many candles anywhere outside of a church.
Pete and Ann came through from the bathroom and joined us in the kitchen. Ann had a wallet in her hand which she held out to me. It belonged according to the driving licence it contained to one Mr Jonathan Joplin. The Museum needed a new Curator; the old one had just become an exhibit.
Pete was trying to get a call through to Middle moor Police headquarters in Exeter but it was hopeless. I could have told him that signals from Juliet’s are useless most of the time but I asked him to keep trying. The one thing in our favour now was that the case was back inside of Police business and I was relieved by that. All the resources I was used to relying upon were back at my disposal, or at least they would be if the bloody telephones would work.
“We must search the rest of the house.” I said, but I knew she was gone. It was like being disembowelled, I could feel myself shaking as the full Import of that took hold.
“She was in that bloody Lexus and we let it drive by!” Leon's voice was full of remorse. “We should have guessed, no one drives on a night like this. No One! We should have stopped them!”
Pete was in the hallway struggling to remove the wedges. It took time and whilst he struggled we searched again. The candles were making me feel bad. Why the candles? On the kitchen table were cups and glasses full of alcohol and methylated spirits. She had set us quite a riddle.
“Weapons.” It was Ann. She pointed at the assorted collection of receptacles on the table. “They were weapons. She was going to burn the ones she couldn't shoot Boss.”
“Christ!” I said. “She must have been terrified to be thinking like that!” That she was wrong never entered my head, Ann was thinking like a threatened woman. I'm not that bloody clever!
The hallway door was opened and Leon and Pete disappeared into the body of the house. Juliet wouldn't be there. She rarely went into it I knew. She would not have admitted it but it was full of memories she didn't want to remember.
I pulled out a chair and sat down, conscious that I wasn't doing my job very well. My fear for her had me half paralysed and I needed to think now better than ever before. I gave myself a mental kick in the ass and tried to concentrate.
There was an awful smell about the house and I assumed it was something to do with the candles. I leaned over the tab
le and sniffed at one. It was without any smell of any kind really, certainly not the source of the stench that was bothering my nostrils. It was really unpleasant like someone had opened an old coffin and set fire to the contents. It made me want to vomit. There was the taint of filthy places and maggots about it.
I got up and went to unbolt and unlock the back door. The fresh air was really welcome. It was hot in the kitchen; the huge fire was trying to roast us.
Ann, ever thoughtful, had coffee from somewhere. How she made it that fast was beyond me and when I gave her a quizzical look she pointed at the stove. “She was boiling water as a weapon too.”
So Juliet had somehow got to know she was in danger. How didn't matter for a moment. Why hadn't she phoned? I went to the phone and, as I expected, it was dead. They'd severed the line outside, no doubt.
“The candles were for when the lights went out.” It was Ann again, and right again too! She was outperforming me easily.
There was a backup generator but she wouldn't have been able to get to it. So she had used candles. I looked at the ones on the table. They were hardly used, they hadn't been alight long? What did that mean? That the attack hadn't lasted long and someone had gone round and put them all out to make the house safe? If so, why did they leave the fire in such a dangerous state? Why would they care about the house being safe if they thought she wasn't coming back to it? Better to have it burn!
Lucifer's Abbey Page 15