Nine O'Clock Bus To Brompton

by Kevin Fitzpatrick

  Don slowly got out of bed and began dressing.

  “Hurry up, will you, Don!” Rosemary was getting agitated. “They’ve been waiting ages.”

  Five minutes later, still somewhat blurry-eyed, Don entered his office where a middle-aged woman and a teenage boy were sitting waiting for him.

  “Sorry to get you up so early,” the woman said, “but I don’t want him being late for school and I don’t know how long you’ll want him for.”

  Don noticed that she spoke with a pronounced Berkshire accent and had the look of a local country woman. The boy, a stocky youth, wearing the uniform of the local village high school, was about fifteen years of age and was staring morosely at his feet.

  “So, how can I help you?” asked Don.

  “Well, I want you to tell him he won’t get into trouble,” the woman said. “He’s terrified you’re going to take him off to prison.”

  “Why would I take you to prison, son?” Don asked the boy.

  The lad continued to look down and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

  “I dunno,” he said truculently, “I aint even done nothing.”

  “Tell the man what you told me,” his mother said. “You won’t get into trouble, Danny, I promise, will he, constable?”

  “I don’t know,” said Don, becoming frustrated. “What exactly has he done?”

  “Well, he hasn’t done anything, has he?” the woman said. “He only saw things. You can’t go to jail for just seeing things can you? Tell him he won’t get into trouble.”

  “What did you see, Danny?” Don used the name the woman had called the lad by. “You don’t normally get into bother just for seeing things.”

  The young man looked up “What, even if it’s a lady with no clothes on?” he almost shouted.

  “Where did you see a lady with no clothes on?” Don asked him.

  “Well, he’s doing his Duke of Edinburgh Award,” the boy’s mother said, as though that explained everything.

  “Okay,” said Don patiently. “And?”

  “Well, it involves a lot of camping out, so I bought him a new tent, and he wanted to try it. I said he could camp out in Bluebell Wood. It’s an easy walk from our cottage, and I didn’t think Miss Anne would mind. We’ve known her family for years.”

  Don was beginning to get interested. It was two weeks since his visit to Anne Wilson, and the whole issue of the murder seemed to have receded into the background.

  “When was this?” he asked the boy.

  “Well, we think it was the night of the murder. That’s why we thought we’d better come and see you.”

  “Danny, are you saying you saw a naked lady in Bluebell Wood the night of the murder?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t mean to,” the boy replied. “She was just there. I didn’t know she was going to be there, did I?”

  With an effort, Don controlled his frustration. He could see the boy was trying his best, but he just didn’t seem to want to get to the point. On the other hand, Don knew there was a good chance the frightened young man would clam up entirely if he got upset.

  “Danny, stop worrying, mate. You’re not in any trouble, I promise. Just tell me what you saw.”

  The boy visibly calmed down. “You’re sure I’m not in trouble?” he said.

  “Completely sure, Danny. What makes you think you did anything wrong?”

  “It’s his dad’s fault,” Mum interjected. “He caught Danny watching his sister take a bath and gave him a right leathering. Told the boy he would go blind and end up in prison. Scared the lad half to death he did.”

  “Well, nothing bad’s going to happen to you here, Danny, as long as you tell the truth that is. So, tell me everything that happened.” Don put his hand reassuringly on the boy’s shoulder as he spoke to him.

  “Well, I hiked down to the wood and found a quiet place to put my tent up. It was a nice flat bit under a tree with some bushes all around. I ate my supper, and when it got dark, I got into my sleeping bag and went to sleep.”

  “I packed his supper for him,” Mum said. “Just some cold cuts, cake, and such. He’s got a little Primus, but we don’t let him use it when he’s on his own. He’s not ready for that yet.”

  “Oh, Mum!” said Danny plaintively.

  “Weren’t you scared all by yourself in the woods?” asked Don.

  “No, not really. I had my torch, and it was a full moon, so there was lots of light. Oh, and Freddie was with me.”

  “That’s his teddy,” said Mum.

  “Right,” said Don. “So, what happened?”

  “Well, I was fast asleep then I heard all this shouting and wailing, and it woke me up.”

  “What sort of time was that?” asked Don.

  “Danny can’t tell the time yet, he’s learning,” said Mum.

  “But you know it was late?” asked Don.

  “Yeah, the moon was really high.”

  “So, what did you see?”

  “Well, there was this clearing just the other side of the bushes, and a lady was sort of dancing around in the middle. She looked just like a fairy but older.”

  “And she had no clothes on?”

  Danny looked panic-stricken.

  “Danny, love, it’s all right, the policeman said so.”

  “That’s right, Danny, I promise you’re not in any trouble. Just tell me what you saw.”

  Danny stole a glance at his mum and said, “Well, these two demons appeared and started prancing about.”

  “Demons?” said Don.

  “That’s what they looked like. They were wearing masks, but I knew who they were.”

  “And who were they?”

  “They were the two men who are always hanging around outside our school selling wacky baccy to the older kids.”

  “Do you know their names?”

  “No, one’s called Frank, I think. They’ve got a van.”

  Now Don was very interested.

  “What about the lady, did you recognise her?”

  “Not until he saw her picture in the paper,” said Mum.

  “Have these men ever tried to sell you anything?”

  Danny laughed. “Not likely! I’m not stupid, am I? You have to be a right twit to buy stuff from them.”

  “Good lad,” said Don. “So, tell me what happened in the woods.”

  “Well, they all danced around a bit, then they started sexing one another on the grass.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I got scared that they’d see me, so I packed up my tent and sneaked out of the woods.”

  “Then what?”

  “I started to walk home, but one of the demons jumped out on me from behind a tree.”

  “That must have been scary.”

  “It was, he wet himself,” said Mum.

  “Mum!” Danny protested.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling, anybody would have done the same, wouldn’t they, constable?”

  “Absolutely!” Don agreed. “Anyone would have been terrified. So, what happened, Danny?”

  “It was Frank, I think. He got me by the throat and pushed me up against a tree. Then he got this big knife out and said he’d cut me if I told anyone what I’d seen. He said he’d kill my mum as well.”

  “The cheeky devil!” said Mum. “I’d like to see him try!”

  “So, what happened next, Danny?”

  “I just went home.”

  “I was surprised to see him in his bed the next morning,” said Mum. “He told me he got scared out there in the woods by himself and came home. It wasn’t until ages later when we saw the picture in the paper and he started crying that I found out what really happened.”

  “So, what do you think they were up to, dancing naked in the woods, I mean?”

  “I’ve no idea, I’m sure!” said Mum defensively. “Our family’s C of E. Always has been.”

  “Okay, no offence intended,” said Don, puzzled by her reference to religion. “Going back to the night in
woods for a minute, Danny, did you see any vehicles in the area or nearby maybe?”

  “Yeah, Frank’s van was parked on the gravel.”

  “Was there any other vehicle there, a car, for instance?”

  “No, just the van. That’s all I saw.”

  “What about other people, was there anyone else there?”

  “No, just the fairy and the demons.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Oh yes, I’m sure.”

  Don decided he’d heard enough; it was time to get some of this down in writing.

  “Right,” he said. “Thank you very much for bringing your son in, Mrs…?”

  “Jackman,” said Mum. “Mrs Mavis Jackman. People call me Mave.”

  “Well, Mave, we really could have done with knowing about this a lot sooner. The case goes to trial in just under four weeks, so I’m going to need a statement from you both if that’s okay?”

  “Will Danny have to go to court then?”

  “Yes, but only as a witness,” he turned to the boy. “There’s nothing to be scared of, you just tell the court exactly the same as you tell me. I’ll write it down for you now, but in court, it will be easy; someone will ask you questions, and you just answer them.”

  Don took the Jackmans’ full contact details then wrote down a description of both Mavis and her son before writing down a lengthy statement from each of them. Mavis had to read everything over to her son, who it transpired had only rudimentary reading and writing skills.

  “You’ll probably get a visit from a friend of mine,” Don said once everything had been signed. “He’s a detective called Dave. He’s a really nice man, you’ll like him. He’ll almost certainly have some more questions for you, but don’t worry, Danny, you are definitely not in any trouble. got that?”

  The boy nodded but didn’t look totally convinced.

  Just over an hour later Don was on his way to Newbury to show Johnson the statement he’d just taken. However, it was still early, and it was quite feasible that the detective may not have been in. So, Don decided to make a slight detour and visit someone else. Someone he was sure would be up, however early it was.

  Emily Pritchard was busily clearing away her breakfast dishes when Don turned up on her doorstep.

  “Hello, Mr Barton” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  “Call me Don, please. I was hoping you could help me with a bit of local background if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Nothing’s too much trouble when it comes to helping the police. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  She made a pot of tea from her old copper kettle that was still hot and standing on the hob. Having poured two cups, she then sat down with her guest at the kitchen table to discuss the reason for the officer’s visit.

  Don realised he was probably breaking the rules of secrecy, but nonetheless, he told her about his early morning visitors and asked her opinion of what had been said to him.

  “Hmm, well, it could be just erotic sex,” she said, “but, of course, you know that already.”

  “It is the most likely explanation,” said Don. “However, there could be more to it. There’s been some funny goings-on in the area just recently, graves being desecrated and suchlike.”

  “And you think I can help you?”

  “I’ll be honest, I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that you may have some understanding about these things.”

  “It intrigues me why you should think so, but I’ll do my best for you. From the description the young man gave you, I think it could be some form of skyclad ritual,” she said.

  “Skyclad?”

  “Naked, the pagans call it skyclad.”

  “And there are pagans living around here? Surely not.”

  “This is a very old area, Don,” said Emily. “There have been pagans here for centuries. Christianity had all but died out in this country at the time of the Conquest. That was why the pope gave his blessing to William invading England in 1066.”

  “But that’s ancient history!” Don protested.

  “Some of the local families have been here since Saxon times, maybe even earlier. There are a great many who clung to the old beliefs through the generations – and there are signs that their numbers are growing again.”

  “What, we’re in danger of getting overrun with Devil worshippers?”

  “The Devil is a Christian entity,” Emily retorted, “and has nothing whatever to do with it. The folk we’re talking about are more into worshipping nature – and the deities of the streams and forests; much like the ancient Greeks, in fact.”

  “Do you know any of them? The worshippers I mean, not the deities?”

  “Well, the one that I did hear about was the now-deceased Mr Churcher senior, the boys’ father. He was held in very high regard by some of the older families. It was even rumoured he was some sort of shaman or priest or something.”

  “So, could the two lads be responsible for the recent thefts in the graveyards.”

  “Certainly not!” said Emily. “That’s the work of city louts who’ve been reading too much popular fiction and are out here at night seeking thrills. Perverted little sods! No, the Churcher boys will surely know the true rituals. They will have recruited the woman to help them access the spirits of the woods. Getting her to dance naked and go through the rites would be very much their cup of tea.” She paused for effect then said: “On the other hand, they probably just wanted sex.”

  “Well, thanks once again, it’s all a mystery to me. But ever little helps,” said Don getting ready to leave. “Oh, and thanks for the cuppa. It was a rare treat to have a proper cup of tea for a change, it was just like my mum used to make. My wife only uses teabags, they’re okay but not quite the same thing.”

  “Has she been gone long, your mum, I mean?”

  “Just over three years, breast cancer.”

  “As long as you keep her in your heart, she will always be with you, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Thanks, Emily, yes, I do know that.”

  “Well, I’m sure she’s very proud of you. Call in any time you like. I don’t get anywhere nearly enough visitors.”

  Don promised that he would do that, and Emily watched as he left and drove off in his little van. She sat back down at the table, and her tabby cat jumped up onto her lap and purred as she stroked him.

  “Well, what did you make of our visitor, Mr Crabtree?” said Emily. “I hope I didn’t say too much – but I’m glad he liked the tea.”

  She looked deeply into the bottom of Don’s cup, empty now save for the tealeaves that had gathered at the bottom.

  The cat purred and mewed.

  “Yes,” said Emily. “Of course I noticed his aura. His soul may be young, but his heart is pure. I just hope it will be strong enough for the trials that lie ahead of him. There is much pain coming his way. I fear it will soon be catching up with him. He will need all the love he can get.”

  The cat purred.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Crabtree! I’m far too old for all that nonsense.”

  Don found Johnson sitting alone in the station canteen drinking coffee and eating a bacon sandwich. He got himself a cup of tea and went over to join the detective.

  “Good morning, Don,” said Johnson. “Come and join me. Is that a statement you’re clutching, is it for me?”

  “Don’t you want to finish your breakfast,” asked Don, smiling.

  “You cheeky sod! Give it here.”

  Don handed over the statement he’d taken from Danny and explained the circumstances; he also mentioned his visit to Emily.

  To Don’s surprise, Johnson nodded his approval.

  “A useful contact, that Miss Pritchard,” he said. “You want to keep in with her.”

  Don sipped his tea as his colleague slowly read through the statement.

  When Johnson had finished reading, he said, “What did you make of this lad, Danny?”

  “He’s a bit slow, bor
derline ESN his mum says – but not bad enough to have to go to a special school.”

  “You know I hate that term,” said Johnson passionately. “Educationally Sub-Normal, ESN; as if the people who dream up these labels have some God-given right to define normality. We’ve got Littlemore Hospital up my way. Largest mental home in the country – except half of them shouldn’t even be there.”

  “You feel strongly about this, don’t you, Dave?”

  “I do actually. I know I’d rather have young Danny fighting beside me in the jungle – especially if it came to a choice between him and one of these head-shrinkers. However, I digress, tell me more about Danny.”

  “Well, despite his, er, issues, he’s a nice enough lad. Never been in trouble and he has enough sense to have contempt for drug dealers– and users for that matter.”

  “So, you don’t think he’s making this all up?”

  “No, I’m sure of it. He’s not the type.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, this is just what the doctor ordered. It nicely corroborates some of the verbal admissions Churcher gave me as well as backing up his written statement. Well done, Don, the boss will be impressed.”

  “Are you going to retake the statement?”

  Johnson shrugged. “I don’t see the need; this is really good work on your part. I don’t think you’ve missed anything at all. So, like I say, well done.”

  Don was feeling very pleased with himself as he watched Johnson leave the canteen, then he noticed that his tea had gone cold. For some reason it bothered him, as though it were some sort of omen.

  “Don’t be stupid, Don,” he said to himself. “The statement was sound, Dave was happy, what could possibly be wrong?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Reading Crown Court

  The first day of the trial had begun badly. Rosemary had cut her hand whilst making breakfast and the bleeding didn’t seem to want to stop. Don’s first aid skills were questionable at the best of times, but that day they seemed to have deserted him completely.

  “If you’d drown in the bath,” he quipped, “I could give you the kiss of life. I was brilliant at that as a cadet.”

  “I bet you were!” said Rosemary, not at all amused. “Was Dianne there with you?” She held a rolled-up tea towel against her damaged hand and pressed hard with her thumb. After a few minutes her efforts were rewarded, and the bleeding finally stopped. Don applied a plaster to the cut.