‘I’ve seen you and Alex together several times in recent days. You’re protective of her. I may be old but I’m not dead yet. I can still read these things. I’ve seen the way you look at her – and you aren’t and never were obvious about those things. But you want to be around her.’
It was his turn to laugh, or more, to snort. ‘I don’t know how you get all the way there. Just because I get along well with an old friend doesn’t mean there’s a great romance in the wings.’ He shouldn’t drink any more Scotch, it was making him tired. When he was tired he could get short-tempered and that would be a mistake here.
‘At the pub earlier, you stopped by just to talk to her. You aren’t much for being in the pub, never have been. That’s changed, hasn’t it? Now that Alex owns the place and she’s there so much of the time. The murder just turned out to be something that gave you a chance to get to know her again. What exactly does she know about you? Since you went your separate ways, that is?’
Everything Tony looked at took on sharper focus; colors became more intense. He felt his skin tighten. ‘I’m sure she’s figured out I’m not married any more.’
‘Would she know, by some sort of instinct, that you’re a widower?’
‘I told you, it hasn’t come up.’ He rubbed a hand over his face, ashamed of his tone. ‘No, Dad, she doesn’t know. Sorry to snap. It’s still raw.’
‘It’s been more than five years and before she died you two weren’t having an easy time of it.’
‘Thanks for reminding me.’
His father took off his glasses and set them on the hearth. ‘Every parent says this, but I only want what’s best for you. Alex might be that but you could blow it with the secrecy.’
‘Damn it, Dad. I don’t even think Alex knows I was in Australia or that I had a practice there for a year.’
‘She would if you hadn’t made a neat job of getting back here without talking about what happened. I still can’t believe nothing was picked up by the media in this country. But don’t think there aren’t records in Australia, and if our local plods decide they want to dig around in your past, they’ll find them.’
‘I wasn’t charged with anything.’ Tony sat down again, hard. ‘You never said any of this before. You kept telling me you believed the way I explained things and we didn’t need to dwell on any of it. Those were your words, or damn close.’
‘And I meant them,’ his father said, leaning forward, urgent. ‘But I’m your father, not a woman you want in your life.’
Tony opened his mouth to say he didn’t know what he wanted in his life, but he thought he might want Alex. What he didn’t have a strong idea about was how she felt about him.
‘You know she’s divorced, son, and you know there’s been some bad stuff in her life even if she doesn’t say a lot. And you’d know if that ex-husband of hers had died in … if he was dead.’
‘In unusual circumstances? Isn’t that what you were going to say? Might as well be completely open with me, Dad. You and I already know the whole story. What I don’t get is why you think I would bring up the mess with Penny. I had no part in it.’
His dad got up and walked behind his chair. He braced his arms on the back. ‘Even you know how anyone else would take what you just said. They would think you were playing games. Of course you had a part in it. She was out there with you – because of you.’
‘But I didn’t have anything to do with her death.’ He refused to allow himself to crawl back into the dark hole it had taken him too long to escape. In that hole, he had even questioned himself.
‘Penny drowned,’ Dad said. ‘They never found the body, just some of her diving equipment. But she was gone a week before you reported her missing. That’s what could have changed your life forever, too.’
‘I hate this.’ Tony put his glass aside. ‘There was someone else. I thought she was with him the way she had been on other occasions. I don’t want to go through it all again.’
James Harrison’s sharp eyes softened. ‘And I don’t want you to either. Or to lose a chance at happiness because you lied.’
‘I haven’t lied, dammit.’ He was on his feet.
‘By omission. Same thing. If you don’t bring it out in the open, and soon, she may never trust you.’
Tony picked up his coat and wound it over an arm. ‘Dad?’ He had hoped never to ask this question but it was inevitable after tonight. ‘You’re not sure you believe I didn’t murder my own wife, are you?’
THIRTEEN
By four thirty in the morning, Alex gave up trying to sleep. As long as she kept counting the minutes until she could turn up at St Aldwyn’s, and try to persuade Brother Percy to go with her to see Detective Inspector O’Reilly, she would not manage to keep her eyes shut.
A full moon lighting the room through thin curtains didn’t help.
It was almost time to think about going to St Aldwyn’s.
Already dressed and lying on top of the bed at Corner Cottage, she tried to gage how long she should wait before going to keep watch on the vicarage. She feared Percy might leave very early and she’d miss him.
Bogie shifted restlessly and whined. He jumped to the floor and she could see the shine of his eyes staring up at her. She had no way of really knowing his schedule yet but she’d better get him out for a run.
Staying like this was hopeless anyway and only made her more edgy and tired. She got up quietly and lifted Bogie into her arms. It was easy to shove her feet into her boots.
Her mother had been so pleased when she arrived – almost giddy but trying to be cool. Alex vowed to come and stay again soon, and spend more time with Lily, but after tonight and until she could go back to the lodge for good she knew the freedom of her own quarters at the Black Dog would be best.
The spare parka her mother kept for her was hung over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, where Alex had been in the habit of tossing her coat when she was still living at home in Underhill.
With moonlight acting almost like sunrise, she wasn’t afraid to go out. They would still stay in the garden, from where she could get back inside quickly. At least she didn’t have to go into those isolated woods that had become so ominous. Alex gave an involuntary shudder and closed the back door of the cottage behind her.
Pulling on a woolen hat and gloves, she followed Bogie only to see him whip to the stone wall at the bottom of the vegetable garden and slip through the gate that had been left open. She muttered under her breath. That gate was supposed to be closed and bolted.
The garden backed on to the village green and she ran after Bogie, knowing where he was heading. Calling him in a low voice to avoid rousing anyone in the cottages, she caught glimpses of flying dog heels and followed them until she made her way through scrubby grass on a narrow path trodden by many feet over a lot of years. Dirty snow still clung to ruts and hillocks on the ground. Each step she took crunched. As Cathy had suggested, the cold was bone freezing.
Bogie leaped about, gleeful at an unexpected chance to be outside. ‘Come here, now!’ Alex hissed. ‘We’re going back.’
He wasn’t giving up this treat so fast and made for the trail all dogs and their owners used to go around the pond.
When he stopped, suddenly, one foot raised, Alex’s stomach and heart raced for first place in her throat. The dog growled. She spun around and her knees wobbled at the sight of a man bearing down on her in the silvery light.
‘It’s O’Reilly,’ he said.
She recognized his voice and squeezed her eyes shut, caught between relief and awkwardness.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ He sounded more angry than incredulous.
No surprises there. ‘Good morning, Inspector,’ she said – calmly, she hoped. ‘Bogie needed a walk but I’m glad to see you.’
‘You can hardly see me. Wasn’t that you I saw at the parish hall when I advised people not to wander around alone at the moment?’
‘It’s like broad daylight,’ she pointed out. ‘And
life has to go on. Bogie needed to come out and I was suffocating inside.’ He didn’t have to know just how descriptive that was of the way she was starting to feel most of the time. ‘A little fresh air was all we needed. The gate wasn’t supposed to be open but he slipped out.’
‘We’d all feel better if you slipped back in with him. You came from that cottage, didn’t you? Your mum’s? I’ll walk you back now.’
Now that Bogie knew there was no threat he ran ahead and back again, only to turn and repeat the process.
‘Don’t let me keep you from what you were doing, Inspector – we’ll go back soon.’ She paused and looked him in the eye. ‘What were you doing wandering around out here at this time of the morning?’
He took in an exasperated breath and let it out. ‘Police work often requires long hours.’
She waited. He’d have to say something more illuminating eventually.
‘We’re thinking of setting up an incident room in the parish hall,’ he said.
He was good at diversionary tactics. ‘Really?’
‘Unless we get a sudden break in this case it looks as if we’ll be around for … well, for as long as it takes.’
‘I’m coming to see you in the morning. Should I come to the station still, or the parish hall?’
‘You’re seeing me now. What’s on your mind?’
He sounded tired but he was trying not to be too short with her. Talking to him now might have been fine, if Brother Percy hadn’t shown up at the Black Dog earlier. Now there seemed so much more focus to what she wanted to talk about.
‘Bogie,’ she called, hurrying after the dog. ‘Don’t get too far away.’ This was an opportunity to see if O’Reilly would reveal something she didn’t already know.
Unfortunately, Bogie ran obediently back, and at once, taking away her excuse for staying out here. Alex shot off with the dog beside her, forcing a laugh and pretending to play with the animal, who leaped on a bench. He gave her a huge, doggy grin. Alex went to clear snow from the bench and sit beside him. He promptly climbed on her lap and she clipped on his lead.
O’Reilly followed and sat down without being invited.
Neither of them spoke for what felt like ages. Wood smoke drifted, pungent, on the air; some the remnants of fires now little more than embers in the grates of still-sleeping households, some the fresh work of the earliest risers.
Alex looked over her shoulder toward the Black Dog. They kept the colored lanterns on all night. They looked washed out now but she still liked the idea of being a welcome sign to anyone passing by.
‘Is Alex short for Alexandra?’ O’Reilly asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Nice.’
‘Prissy,’ she said, and laughed. She hadn’t expected a personal question. ‘Why are you walking around out here – really? Following up a clue?’
‘You could say that. In a broad sense.’
She laced her gloved fingers together and hunched down into the neck of her parka.
‘It’s getting on for five,’ he said. ‘Won’t your mother be worried if she gets up and you’re gone?’
‘Mum doesn’t get up at five. Anyway, she’ll only think I’m out with Bogie, which I am. What kind of clue are you following?’
‘You don’t need to worry about that. I wanted to ask again if you saw anything unusual on the morning you found the body. Anything that’s come back to you? Doesn’t matter how small and insignificant you think it is.’
So she wouldn’t get any information from him, but he expected her to keep answering questions. ‘Other than finding the body, you mean?’ Facetious remarks weren’t one of her habits but he frustrated her.
O’Reilly didn’t answer.
‘I didn’t,’ she said finally. ‘What I’d like to know is what you and your people found that I didn’t notice. I was too shocked to be looking around the way I should have.’
‘Don’t worry about anything you didn’t see,’ he said. ‘That’s up to us.’
In other words, mind your own business while the grownups do their work. ‘You’ve probably done me a favor by showing up,’ she said in a rush, unsure why she chose that moment to come clean. ‘I should tell you something. You’ll save me a trip.’
‘Go on.’ He meant to sound casual, but the timbre of his voice edged down.
‘Something happened last night. I met an interesting man and I want you to meet him, too. Evidently he did come to see your people but he didn’t think they were interested in what he had to say so he didn’t push it.’
‘What are you talking about?’
O’Reilly stood up and Alex joined him, clutching Bogie to her. She didn’t want the man looming over her while she remained seated.
‘What man?’
Brother Percy’s permission should have been asked before she threw him to the police again. He obviously wasn’t keen on them. ‘He’ll leave Folly sometime this morning. I don’t know how early but I want to catch him first. I think you ought to talk to him yourself. He’s a monk, like the dead man.’
O’Reilly sighed. ‘It might have been useful to keep that connection out of the public eye. Between you and your friend the vet, it was impossible.’
Alex ignored the remark. ‘He wanted to see the dead man but they wouldn’t let him because he doesn’t have proper ID.’
‘What’s this monk’s name?’
‘Percy. Brother Percy.’
O’Reilly looked skyward. ‘Anything other than that, like a last name, I can hope?’
‘His order leaves all that behind – they travel light and that includes taking simple names that have nothing to do with given ones.’
‘Who did he talk to among my people?’ He was growing more intense.
‘You can ask him all that.’ She didn’t want to grass Lamb up. ‘He’s staying at the vicarage with Reverend Restrick. I wanted to get there early so I didn’t miss him.’
‘Why didn’t you call me as soon as you thought this was important?’
Now he was unsettling her. ‘I don’t know. I was going to see you this morning and I decided I’d bring Brother Percy with me, if he wanted to come. He knew Brother Dominic.’
Heavy silence lasted only seconds. ‘Is that what you think the dead man’s name was?’
‘Probably. Brother Percy is sure it’s him. He knew about Bogie.’ She rubbed her chin on Bogie’s head. ‘He did say he’s got something he wanted to return to Brother Dominic.’
‘And you didn’t think you should come to me with that information at once?’ O’Reilly took her by the arm, gently enough, and set off purposefully for the street and the village itself. A thunderous atmosphere descended on them and it was generated entirely by the policeman.
He strode along until Alex was running to keep up with him.
‘Hey, stop!’ She planted her feet. O’Reilly released her arm immediately. ‘Are you planning to barge into the vicarage at … at whatever time it is now?’
‘Past five,’ he told her, illuminating his watch. ‘And that’s what I’m going to do. Or rather I’m going to ring the bell and ask to see this Brother Percy.’
‘Why can’t you let me give him some warning first?’ Now she really felt guilty.
‘You’ve done your part. Better late than never. You’ve told the police what you should have told them the minute you spoke to this man. Why don’t you go home? I’ll make sure you get inside.’
Bogie squeaked and she realized she was holding him too tightly. ‘I’m not a member of the police force.’
‘No, you’re not, and—’
‘And I don’t follow your orders, Inspector.’ She cut him off. ‘Nor have I done anything wrong. I didn’t ask to be involved in this case but I am, and I’m not going to get much peace until it’s solved. So forgive me if I’m interested, and for feeling responsible for the person I just alerted you to. If I hadn’t persuaded him to stay with the vicar, he’d already be gone.’
‘Don’t interfere in police business,
’ O’Reilly said shortly. ‘Your actions suggest you want to be in the middle here. It isn’t your place to decide when and where we do our job.’
Not trusting herself to say another word, Alex took off toward St Aldwyn’s and the vicarage. Her face burned and she was glad he couldn’t see how he had embarrassed and angered her.
‘OK, OK.’ O’Reilly fell into step beside her again. ‘I was harsh, but you asked for it.’
Her teeth ground together with the effort of not saying something she could regret later.
The walk to Mallard Lane and St Aldwyn’s took only minutes. In the unnatural early light, the church with its leaning gravestones and the hulking silhouettes of whispering old trees took on an ominous cast.
In seconds the moon disappeared, leaving only matte gray skies in its wake.
‘What’s the quickest way to the vicarage?’ O’Reilly asked.
‘Through the churchyard. I still think it’s too early to do this.’
‘You may be right.’ He sounded less belligerent. ‘But I can’t afford to take any added risk of losing him. If I haven’t already.’
Light rain began to fall and Alex yanked up the hood of her parka. Still her face quickly became damp. It felt good.
They walked along beside the church. Faint glowing shone through stained glass windows. Moss-slick gates opened with a creaky whine beneath the roof of a lych-gate into the modest grounds around the vicarage. Bogie was getting heavy in Alex’s arms but she didn’t want to put him down here.
The Victorian house was handsome, if dark and forbidding. There was no sign of life.
O’Reilly went directly to the front door beneath its heavy arch of bare vine.
He halted abruptly and held up a hand for Alex to do the same. The thick door wasn’t quite closed.
The sharp ring of the bell startled Alex. She’d been rattled more than enough for one night.
That ring didn’t echo through the house, but sounded as if it hit a sodden blanket just out of sight.
O’Reilly waited a few seconds before hitting the bell again, and lights came up on an upper floor, filtered, dull yellow, downstairs and across the narrow visible wedge of black and white stone tiles on the floor inside the door.
Folly Page 9