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A Bad, Bad Thing

Page 15

by Elena Forbes


  Harry stared at her. ‘I really didn’t think of her that way.’

  She met his gaze, a little surprised. Somehow, it didn’t ring true. He wouldn’t have been that much older than Jane and few men she had ever come across failed to register whether a woman was attractive or not. From the little she had seen of Harry, he was certainly no exception and she wondered why he was so dismissive.

  ‘Jane actually looked quite pretty, when she made an effort,’ Melissa said a little hurriedly. ‘Like at the Christmas party, the day she disappeared. I certainly remember your noticing,’ she said, with a sideways glance in Harry’s direction.

  ‘Not my type,’ he said sharply, leaning across the table towards Eve. ‘And before you go getting any ideas, Eve, the police checked out my alibi very thoroughly.’

  ‘Mine too,’ Gavin said quietly, looking at Harry.

  ‘Were you surprised when Sean Farrell was charged with her murder?’ Eve asked.

  Harry looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I guess he must have been jealous. He’d only just taken over from my father’s old farrier, who’d retired, so I didn’t know him at all well. But he seemed pretty on the ball to me, with a good team of lads working for him. I remember Father saying we were lucky to get him.’

  ‘So, he wasn’t just working on his own?’ Eve asked.

  Melissa shook her head. ‘There’s too much to do. Farriers around here make a ton of money, if they’re any good, with all the racing and event yards in the area.’

  ‘What happened to the girls who shared the cottage with her?’ Eve asked.

  ‘The Irish girl, Grace, went home,’ Harry said. ‘She was very homesick and never really fitted in. Then she had a bad fall up on the gallops and decided to call it a day, but that was a good month or so before Jane disappeared. I’ve no idea what happened to her after that.’

  ‘I thought there was another girl?’

  ‘If you mean Holly Crowther, I had to sack her,’ Melissa said crisply.

  ‘This was the week before Jane went missing?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Any particular reason?’

  Melissa glanced at Harry before replying. ‘She was a troublemaker, that’s all, although my father had a soft spot for her, which is why she lasted so long.’ Her tone was dismissive, as though it wasn’t important.

  ‘He wasn’t the only one,’ Harry said meaningfully, returning Melissa’s gaze.

  ‘No and she’d had a couple of warnings before,’ Melissa said sharply. ‘I gave her a week’s wages, which was more than she was due in the circumstances, and told her to get out.’

  Eve looked over at Gavin but he seemed to be paying no attention to the conversation, busy scraping up the last few mouthfuls of stew on his plate. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of, or interested in, the comings and goings of the racing yard personnel. Or perhaps he was too polite to say something. But it was clear from the interplay between Harry and Melissa that there was some sort of story behind it. Whether any of it was relevant to what happened to Jane McNeil was another matter.

  ‘Do you know where she went?’ Eve asked, looking at Harry. ‘I’d like to get in touch with her.’

  ‘Off to another yard,’ Harry said. ‘I had someone ring me up about a month later for a reference and then again someone else about six months after that, so she obviously didn’t stay long in the first job.’

  Melissa looked at him surprised. ‘You gave her a reference?’

  Harry shrugged and gave an apologetic smile. ‘She was a good little rider.’

  ‘You never told me,’ Melissa said, clearly annoyed.

  ‘There are a lot of things I don’t tell you,’ he said sharply.

  ‘Where did she go after here, then?’ Eve asked, as Melissa and Gavin got up from the table and started to clear away the plates and dishes.

  ‘One of the yards in Newmarket,’ Harry replied. ‘I think it was Fred Foxley’s. The other yard was somewhere up north, but I don’t remember the trainer’s name or if he’s still in business. People come and go a lot in our world, it’s all pretty casual, and ten years is a long time. Is it important?’

  ‘Impossible to say. They shared a house with Jane for several months, so they probably knew her better than anyone.’

  ‘Right. I can certainly give Fred a call in the morning, if you like, just to double-check. I’ll also see if I can find out where Grace is now. My head lass is her cousin and they come from the same village.’

  ‘That would be very helpful.’

  ‘Do you really think Sean Farrell’s innocent?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Eve said. ‘The trial certainly raised some questions that weren’t properly answered. I haven’t seen all the documentation, but based on what I’ve read, I’m surprised they got a conviction.’

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘You say there’s some sort of a deadline?’

  ‘That’s right. We don’t know exactly, but we think they’ll decide in a few weeks’ time.’

  ‘Who will? Decide what?’

  ‘The Criminal Cases Review Commission. They’ll decide whether or not to refer his case back to the Court of Appeal.’

  He frowned, as though it didn’t make much sense. ‘What if they don’t?’

  ‘Then that’s it.’

  ‘What, for good?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  They sat around the table, talking for a little longer, but it was clear everybody was tired. Also, in spite of their curiosity, the discussion about Jane McNeil seemed to have put a dampener on things. Eve remembered again how Gavin had described it as being a bad time for them all, with the suicide of Tim Michaels. Maybe that explained it. There was so much more she wanted to ask, but it would have to wait for a better moment. She said goodbye to Melissa and Harry, arranging to meet Harry in the office the following morning. Gavin walked her outside to her car. The air was sharp and stung her nostrils and the beginnings of a frost had already covered one side of the car, glinting in the lights from the house.

  ‘How long are you planning on staying?’ he asked, as she opened the driver’s door and climbed in.

  ‘Hopefully not more than a few days, although there’s quite a lot of ground to cover. I’d like to look around the estate in daylight, if possible? Just to get a feel for the location and where it all happened.’

  ‘Of course. I can give you a guided tour tomorrow, if you like. I’ve got a load of constituency business to deal with, which will take up the morning, but I can make myself free in the afternoon. I was also going to ask you if you’d like a place to stay, while you’re here? I discussed it with Melissa while you were talking to Harry. We have an empty cottage, which we sometimes rent out as a holiday let, or offer clients from overseas when they come over. I’d suggest you stay in the house with us, but the cottage would be a lot quieter, and more private. It’s actually where Jane used to live and it’s just down the lane from here.’

  She thought about it for a moment. It would be much more convenient, as well as possibly useful, to stay on the farm, and certainly a lot nicer than being at the pub. ‘I’m happy to pay you,’ she said, thinking that it would be a good use for some of Duran’s money.

  He shook his head. ‘Not necessary. It’s not booked out until the week before New Year, so it’s yours for as long as you need it, until then. Come over around ten tomorrow and Melissa can let you in.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Hi Eve, re: the race at Ascot that Mickey was interested in, there were two runners with connections to Westerby. No.3, My Favourite Boy, trained by Harry Michaels, owned by the Come What May partnership, and No.8, London Match, owner Mr Lorne Anderson. Anderson was a client of Michaels Senior when Jane McNeil was there. He’s one of the owners who called Jane several times in the week before she died. Haven’t checked any other races. Dan.

  Eve stared at the screen for a moment, memorizing the names, then tucked away her phone in her bag and got out of her car. Tiny flakes of snow wheeled like dust on
the freezing wind, stinging her face. It probably wouldn’t stick, but the temperature was several degrees colder than in London and the sharpness of the air took her by surprise. She zipped up her coat as far as it would go, pulled the hood over her head and put on a pair of insulated, woollen gloves she had bought at a petrol station. She had followed Melissa from the house and Melissa now stood waiting for her in the lane further along, a hat jammed down low on her head, and a long waterproof coat and boots.

  ‘This is it,’ she said briskly, as Eve approached, with a vague nod towards the whitewashed cottage that was perched on a bank above them. ‘Do you need a hand with your things?’

  Eve shook her head. ‘I’ve just got a small bag in the car. I can bring it in later.’

  ‘Coincidentally, this was where Jane used to live,’ Melissa said, leading the way up the steep, slippery, brick steps. ‘It looks completely different now, of course. We did it up a couple of years ago. It was a total tip when the girls were here.’

  The cottage appeared to be old, with a pretty lattice-work wooden porch framing the apple-green front door. The front garden was tidy, an old, clipped, wavy hedge separating it from the lane, which was a good six feet below. Eve remembered what Dan had said about the witnesses who had driven past the cottage on the night Jane disappeared and she had to agree with him. She doubted whether anyone passing in their car at night would have had a clear view of somebody standing under the porch.

  Melissa reached up onto the ledge above the front door and produced a large, old-fashioned key on a chunky, wooden fob.

  ‘Was the key always kept on the ledge?’ Eve asked, as Melissa unlocked the door.

  ‘I imagine so. There isn’t a duplicate.’

  ‘Wasn’t anyone worried about security?’

  ‘It was a habit of my father’s for all the houses, including ours. He hated the idea of locked doors. It’s not like London around here, you know. You can leave your back door unlocked – even your front door – and nobody comes in.’ Her manner was stiff and her tone a little off-hand.

  ‘I thought somebody broke one of the windows at the back of the cottage, the night Jane disappeared?’ Eve asked, following Melissa inside, wondering if she was usually so charmless. ‘If the key was so readily available, why would they bother?’

  Melissa shrugged. ‘I suppose it means it had to have been somebody who didn’t know about the key system.’

  ‘But Sean Farrell must have known, surely?’

  Melissa gave her a blank look. ‘I guess so. Or maybe he was just being clever.’

  The small, bright hall had a new-looking, quarry-tiled floor and smelled of fresh paint, but the air was almost as chill inside as out.

  ‘I put the heating on an hour ago, but it takes time to warm up,’ Melissa said, as though reading Eve’s thoughts. ‘The boiler’s old and can be a bit temperamental sometimes. If you have any problems, just give me a call and I’ll send somebody over to sort it. I’m afraid the Wi-Fi’s not working at the moment. We’ve been waiting for days for BT to come and fix the line, but still no sign. You’ll have to use your mobile, if you can get a signal, or come and use our Wi-Fi at the yard or the house. That’s the kitchen,’ she said, opening a door to the left. Eve glimpsed a small table and chairs under a mullioned window, blue-patterned fabric blinds and cream-coloured units. Everything looked clean and tidy and homely. ‘I’ve put some basics in the fridge to start you off,’ Melissa added.

  ‘Thank you. Let me know what I owe you.’

  Melissa shook her head quickly. ‘Don’t worry about it. You’ll find everything else you need for cooking in the cupboards. It’s pretty well stocked with day-to-day stuff. If you want anything else, there’s a Waitrose on the High Street and, of course, you know where Tesco’s is.’ The remark was off the cuff, but Eve again picked up a sharpness in her tone. It was clear she wasn’t happy with Eve staying there. What had Gavin said?

  ‘The sitting room’s this way,’ Melissa said, pushing open another door, this time on the right.

  Eve followed her into a large, low-ceilinged room, with windows both front and back, as well as a small side window, with a view of the woods beyond. Like the kitchen window, they were all lead-paned, with simple iron lever handles and no locks on either of them. Maybe there was no need for security, given that the cottage was on private land, but she wouldn’t have been happy there for long.

  Eve went over to the front and looked out for a moment across the road to the fields opposite. It was a bleak, windswept landscape, with few trees, the ground rising steeply in the distance towards an iron-grey sky. The farmhouse where Melissa and Gavin lived was hidden from view, down in the dip on the other side of one of the hills, and there wasn’t another house in sight. She was struck by the sense of isolation. It was just the sort of spot she would have chosen for herself, if she didn’t have to live in London, but if you screamed, there was nobody around to hear.

  ‘If it gets really cold, you’ll want a fire,’ Melissa said. ‘The stove chucks out a good amount of heat once you get it going and if you need more logs, there’s a small store at the back of the house. There are three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. I’ve put you in the biggest one. It’s to the left, at the top of the stairs. You’ll find clean towels in the cupboard in the bathroom. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.’ Again, her manner was off-hand, as though she were just going through the motions.

  Eve turned to face her. ‘Thank you. It’s very nice. What a shame I’m only going to be here a couple of days.’ She forced a smile, which brought a momentary lightening of Melissa’s expression. ‘Gavin said you rent the cottage out?’

  ‘Yes, mostly in the summer, when Marlborough College summer school is going on. The clientele is very demanding, I can tell you. It’s been so successful the last couple of years, we’re going to do up another couple of cottages on the estate to rent out. It’s very nice to get some extra income towards all the bills.’

  As she followed Melissa back into the hall, Harry appeared through the front door. His face was red from the cold and he was warmly dressed in a heavy, green waterproof jacket and flat cap.

  ‘Morning, Eve,’ he said, hurriedly wiping a pair of muddy boots on the mat. ‘Sorry I’m early, but do you mind coming now? I’ve got to shoot off in half an hour to watch one of our horses.’

  ‘Now’s fine,’ Eve replied.

  ‘You’d better follow me, then.’

  ‘I’ll lock up and leave the key where I showed you,’ Melissa said.

  Harry trotted down the steps to where an ancient-looking, iron-grey Land Rover Defender was idling in the middle of the lane. A pair of dogs were jumping up and barking loudly in the back. He waited until Eve had collected her car, then took off down the track. In spite of the water-filled ruts and deep mud, he drove fast and she struggled to keep up. Eventually, the road dipped down a hill, around some trees, and they arrived at a huge concrete yard where several horse lorries were parked, all painted maroon, with the Westerby Racing logo on the sides. The complex of buildings was large and impressive, with several modern-looking barns grouped around a collection of older redbrick buildings. Harry pulled into a space outside a small, Victorian gabled house and she parked beside him.

  ‘This is Grace’s number,’ he said, as Eve climbed out of her car. He handed her a folded piece of paper. ‘According to Siobhan, she’s married with two kids, now, but still living in the same village and still riding.’

  ‘In racing?’ It suddenly seemed a very small, enclosed world. Maybe once part of it, you never left.

  He nodded. ‘It’s got one of the best training yards in the Republic, so it’s impossible to avoid. I also called Fred Foxley first thing this morning. He remembers employing Holly Crowther for a few months after she left here, but that’s about it. He has no idea where she went afterwards.’

  ‘There must be employment records.’

  Harry shook his head. ‘I asked, but Fred said she just rode for him on a
n ad hoc basis and helped out with some of the breakers. He paid her in cash, which is not unusual in our business. He also said he was pretty sure she had another job going somewhere else at the same time.’

  The wind was less strong down in the valley but the air was still icy and she wished she had brought warmer clothing. She put her hood up again, pulling it tight around her ears. ‘And you don’t remember the name of the other yard that asked you for a reference?’

  He held her gaze for a moment, then said, ‘If it’s really that important, I suppose I can make a few calls later, if you like.’

  ‘I’d be very grateful.’

  ‘OK. But as I said last night, people move around a lot in our industry. It’s easy come, easy go.’ It was clear from his expression that he thought it a waste of time. ‘Even if I do find out where she went after Fred’s, she’ll be long gone by now.’

  ‘I understand.’

  He gave a curt nod. ‘The office is in here.’

  He opened the front door of the house and led her through a hallway into a tiny room where four women of varying ages sat at a bank of desks in the middle, all on the telephone. The walls were papered with photographs and other racing memorabilia and a series of ancient-looking filing cabinets ran along one wall, stacked with various trophies and awards. In the cramped space, the noise and hum of voices was intense. She wondered how anybody could concentrate.

  ‘We moved everything around after my father died, but this is where Jane used to work,’ Harry said. ‘As you can see, it’s pretty hugger-mugger and people have to share desks. That’s my office, through there.’ He waved his hand towards a door at the back of the room. ‘It used to be Father’s office, when Jane was here. My flat’s upstairs. Nothing like living above the shop, to keep you on your toes.’

  ‘Did anyone here know Jane?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nobody’s been here that long.’

 

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