The Dead of Winter

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The Dead of Winter Page 19

by Jane A. Adams


  Melissa began to cry again.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The mortuary ambulance had arrived, along with another scientific support van to continue processing the scene. The original CSI team had left gratefully, and only Chandler and Constable Brown remained, though new bodies had been promised to relieve them and a mobile incident room was supposed to be en-route.

  ‘Good luck with that one,’ Mac said, thinking about the route it would have to take to get to Aikensthorpe.

  ‘I love an optimist,’ Chandler agreed. He shrugged resignedly. ‘No one’s worried about us getting home, just about the number of overtime hours we’ll be claiming for.’

  Mac laughed. ‘No one actually gets them,’ he said. ‘It’ll be Time Off In Lieu, which you’ll never actually manage to take.’

  ‘Ah, but you’re a cynical man.’

  Rina had brought Melissa through to the main hall. She had ceased to cry, but her face was pale and her eyes red rimmed.

  ‘So, when can we leave?’ Terry Beal wanted to know.

  ‘Soon,’ Chandler soothed. ‘We need to take statements and—’

  ‘Oh, please. We’ve done all that. There’s nothing you can do to keep us here.’ David Franklin sounded bored. ‘Charge us or let us go, isn’t that what they say on the television?’ He seemed ready for the applause, but it never came.

  ‘Professor Franklin. Three people are dead,’ Chandler said. ‘Now, my colleagues and a mobile incident room will be arriving shortly. I ask you all to be patient for just a little longer.’

  ‘We should be going while there’s a break in the weather,’ Jay Stratham objected. ‘Some of us just stumbled into this situation. You can’t really be serious about suspecting us.’

  ‘Just a little patience,’ Chandler said again, and Jay gestured annoyance but sat down beside Rina.

  ‘Some of us have to be elsewhere.’ David Franklin again. ‘We are expected back at work.’

  ‘I don’t imagine you’re the only ones unable to make it in,’ Chandler said. ‘This weather is countrywide – and there’s more to come, apparently.’

  A collective groan from the company.

  ‘I used to like snow,’ Jay said. ‘OK, so what more do you want to know, and when are the reinforcements going to arrive? I don’t know about anyone else, but I’d feel a lot happier if we had a few more neutral bodies around.’

  Rina saw the general exchange of glances and knew that none of them actually wanted to say it out loud, so she took the task upon herself. ‘You mean, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that one of us might be a murderer.’

  David Franklin started to protest, but Jay nodded. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but what else are we supposed to think, and surely it’s better to get that thought out into the open? I don’t mind admitting, I’m pretty spooked by the whole idea.’

  ‘Scared rigid,’ Terry Beal confessed readily, though he looked anything but. ‘But frankly I’m also not happy about driving out of here in that.’ He pointed to the window. The snow had returned, suddenly and vehemently, a solid, muffling curtain of white through which it was impossible to see anything.

  ‘Well, I suppose that settles that,’ Jay conceded. ‘So, what do we do, all sit here and watch one another? Split into groups and assign a police officer to each one?’

  No one responded. Rina surveyed the collection of glum expressions and made up her mind that she’d had enough of sitting there. She got up and headed for the library. A moment or so later, Jay followed her.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’

  She glanced back at him. ‘May I ask why?’

  ‘Because I’m bored to tears and you look like a woman on a mission.’

  ‘Can I come too, or is three a crowd?’ Terry Beal stuck his head around the orangery door.

  ‘Feel free, but I’m warning you both, there’s lifting to be done.’

  ‘Better than sitting around staring at one another or listening to platitudes,’ Jay said.

  ‘Or listening to David and Gail bickering,’ Terry added. ‘Or Melissa crying. I’m sorry, that sounds cruel.’

  ‘No, it sounds human,’ Rina told him. ‘We can overdose on the grief of others very rapidly. It doesn’t make us bad people, just people who are made for doing and not for comforting.’

  Terry laughed out loud at that. ‘Ah, Rina,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen you in comforting mode, and very good you are too, so don’t try and play the hard-man card, that’s my job. Right,’ he said, rubbing his hands together, ‘what are we looking for?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rina admitted. ‘Probably for what is no longer here.’

  Chandler had gone off to make phone calls. Constable Brown was prowling between the rear lobby and the main hall as though he felt he ought to be patrolling somewhere. Mac and Miriam had taken up residence in one corner of the main room with Tim and Joy and were sitting playing cards and talking quietly about their situation, Mac’s change of career, and the logistics of Miriam moving in. Oddly, it was the practicalities of life after this was all over that seemed to occupy them most.

  Gail seemed to be reading a magazine, but it was ten minutes since she had turned a page, and David Franklin was working on some papers. It looked, Mac thought, like marking, and whoever the unfortunate students were, Franklin’s pen indicated dissatisfaction with their efforts.

  Melissa had fallen asleep tucked up in a large wing-backed chair. People often slept when they could no longer cope with grief or stress, Mac observed. He was glad she had found a means of escape, however brief.

  Rav, Viv and Robin had set-up a laptop on a coffee table and were watching a film. A small stack of DVDs sat beside it, and Mac wondered if they planned on sitting out the storm – both real and metaphorical – watching films. He could think of worse ways of coping.

  No one had sought to go to their own rooms or looked for sanctuary elsewhere. It was as though, by common consent, everyone wanted to keep everyone else in view. Suspicious and yet also social in their behaviours with the reading and the card playing and DVD watching, it made for a disconcertingly surreal atmosphere.

  ‘What’s Rina up to?’ Joy wondered.

  ‘You could go and ask her.’

  ‘If she’d wanted any of us there, she’d have said.’ Joy didn’t sound resentful of that fact. She laid down a card and announced that she’d won yet another hand. Mac had suggested gin rummy rather than poker, hoping it might give the rest of them some shot at victory, but so far that didn’t seem to be working.

  ‘I think she wanted to talk to Jay alone, and I don’t think she minds one way or another about Terry Beal.’

  ‘She doesn’t see him as a suspect then?’ Mac was amused.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t say that. I don’t think she’s ruled anyone out. Have you?’

  ‘Present company excepted, no,’ Mac agreed.

  ‘Why rule out present company? We were all here for at least two of the murders.’

  ‘True, but—’

  ‘And we’re all capable of it, aren’t we?’ Joy continued.

  Miriam laughed. ‘Are we?’

  ‘Yes, if you think about it. If we thought someone threatened a loved one, if we thought someone might be out and out evil, then I don’t believe any of us would hesitate for long. Put me in a room with the men that killed Patrick and I wouldn’t promise anything.’

  People often said that sort of thing, Mac observed, but he felt that Joy actually meant it, and his own actions had demonstrated his own capacity for violence and irrationality. It was not a comforting thought.

  ‘True.’ Tim nodded. ‘So who tops your suspect list then?’

  Joy dealt the cards again, and Mac watched carefully. If she was cheating then she was bloody good. She shrugged. ‘I don’t know about the murders,’ she said, ‘but I know at least two people here are lying about something. Don’t ask me how, I just do, and I think Rina thinks so too.’

  ‘You want to say who and what about?’ Tim asked her.

  ‘Mel
issa is one,’ Mac guessed. ‘I think David Franklin might be the other?’

  Joy laughed. ‘Well, he’s lying to his wife, but that doesn’t count, and have you actually listened to anything he’s said? It’s all noise and nothing. No, he’s still on my suspect list, but he’s not actually said enough of anything for it to count.’

  ‘Surely Melissa wouldn’t hurt Toby,’ Miriam objected. ‘Or this Edwin. She seemed to be fond of him.’

  ‘I said not telling the whole truth, not killing,’ Joy pointed out. ‘While there’s probably some overlap, motive-wise, it’s not necessarily the same thing, is it?’

  ‘No. So if you think Melissa is hiding something, then who else is on your list?’ Mac asked.

  Joy picked up her hand and rearranged it, then rearranged it again. ‘Viv,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why or what, and I like her and I don’t think she’d kill anyone, but she’s not telling us something and I think I might know what.’

  Back in the library, Terry and Jay were earning their keep, taking heavy volumes down from the shelves and laying them out on the central table. It was cooler, but not cold, and Rina soon realized that heating was being channelled in through elaborate vents below the shelves.

  She had told them, without revealing Melissa’s part in all this, that there were suspicions some of the books had been sold. She was now trying to get some sense of what was here and what might have gone; Melissa was unable to provide them with a sensible list of titles, and the inventory Rina knew had been taken was certainly not available in the library itself.

  It was obvious to Rina that the young woman had little knowledge on which to base her thefts, so who had told her what to look for? Did this book dealer she claimed had been acting on her behalf know the library and tell her what he wanted?

  ‘You know,’ Jay said. ‘Being able to see this library was one of the reasons I accepted the invite.’

  ‘Oh? And why is that?’

  ‘Old Albert collect magic books, did he?’ Terry asked.

  Jay laughed. ‘Actually, this has nothing to do with Albert Southam. He started collecting, true, but it was after Albert was dead and gone that things really began to get interesting.’

  ‘You’re talking about the mad scientist who rented the place after Albert’s death.’ Terry showed that he, too, had read Viv’s notes.

  ‘Well, mad or not, he knew his books.’

  ‘So,’ Rina said thoughtfully, surveying the volumes spread out on the table that they had identified as of special interest. Jay, it seemed, also knew his books. ‘If you wanted to sell any of this collection, what would you go for?’

  ‘Don’t auction houses carry out checks? You know, make sure they’re not handling stolen property?’ Terry asked.

  ‘Well, that’s true,’ Rina said, ‘but there are always ways.’

  Jay nodded. ‘Sure. A book comes on to the market from a deceased collector – how is anyone going to prove it’s not legitimate? Book dealers buy up collections and then go through them to see if there’s anything really unusual. I know; I have three who regularly call me with items of interest, and a lot of the time it’s an odd volume that’s turned up amongst a whole load of mediocrity.’

  ‘But that’s not the case here,’ Terry objected. ‘Rina, from what you say, this collection has been inventoried often over the years.’

  ‘Until the house was sold, yes,’ Rina reminded him. ‘Aikensthorpe was sold complete with contents, including this library and Albert’s closed room. While the previous owners don’t seem to have taken much notice of either, you couldn’t prove with certainty that they’d not sold or otherwise disposed of books that had come into their possession legitimately. Anything could have been taken from the library, and provided it was filtered though legitimate channels before it came up for public sale, it would be really hard to prove that it wasn’t a right and proper sale. Even if it could be traced back to Aikensthorpe, there’s nothing wrong with someone who owned the house having sold the books.’

  ‘So how come no one sold these?’ Terry pointed to the volumes on the table. ‘And we’re still no closer to knowing what is actually missing, if anything. Rina, where did this information come from? Are you sure anything has actually been taken?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Rina told him. ‘Suffice it to say that Melissa told me. Let’s leave it at that, can we?’

  Jay and Terry exchanged glances, and Rina knew she didn’t need to spell it out for them.

  ‘But—’ Terry began to object.

  Jay waved him into silence. ‘OK, we’ll let that lie for the moment. Let’s just assume that maybe these were considered too rare, too noticeable to shift yet. That would make a kind of sense.’

  ‘OK.’ Terry looked far from satisfied. ‘So what isn’t here?’

  ‘Do either of you happen to know what Edwin was researching?’

  Blank looks. ‘Here?’ Jay asked. ‘I didn’t know that he was.’

  ‘He said he had another book planned.’

  ‘He did,’ Jay confirmed. ‘But nothing here would have helped him. In fact, that’s why he really wanted us to get together, what we talked about. I was going to help him with the technical stuff.’

  ‘You’re sure there would be nothing here? I mean, even if he wasn’t researching for the next book, maybe he—’

  Jay was shaking his head. ‘Oh, I don’t doubt he’d have loved this place, but he was planning on writing about a man called John Murray Spear: he was a minister and medium in the 1830s. He did early experiments with magnetism and then claimed to have built a machine that could help him speak directly to God. There’s been a fair amount of research done in the States, but I’ve recently unearthed some schematics which no one else seems to have connected to Spear’s machine. I ran the idea past Edwin, and he believed I was on to something. Edwin was going to edit the book, add a monograph of his own and the research on the new schematics, and invite others in the same field to contribute their own essays.’ He laughed. ‘Frankly, if we sold a few hundred copies we’d have both been happy. We’d already found a printer and someone to help us with the technical stuff, but it was never destined to be a best-seller. It’s the sort of thing only geeks like us get excited about.’

  ‘I’d have liked it,’ Terry objected plaintively. Rina thought she may have done so too.

  So, she thought, if Edwin hadn’t needed to use the library for his own research, was he just coming for the pleasure of being among so many splendid old books? Melissa said he’d stayed about a half-dozen times this past year, carrying out his studies, that he had noticed a book missing because he needed it.

  Was that true? Was Jay mistaken? Or was Melissa being economical with the truth – and if so, what did she hope to gain?

  THIRTY

  Melissa was still asleep when Rina and the others returned to the main room. It was four in the afternoon; the curtains were already closed against the dark, and there was still no sign of the promised incident room and accompanying officers. Twitching the drapes aside to look out, Rina could understand why.

  ‘I’m going to make some tea and cobble some sandwiches together,’ Rina announced.

  ‘I’ll come and help,’ Joy said.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand too.’ Viv slipped off the sofa from between Rav and Robin.

  ‘Oh, but the film’s nearly over. Shall we pause it?’ Robin barely took his eyes off the screen, and Rina wondered what they had been watching.

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’ll catch it later. If I don’t move I’m going to set in that position.’ She dropped a kiss on Robin’s head and joined Rina and Joy by the door.

  ‘Anything interesting in the library?’ Joy asked. ‘Do you think we should wake Melissa or let her sleep?’

  ‘We can wake her when we’ve got the tea ready. As to the library, yes, it’s a rather wonderful collection. You should take a look.’

  She closed the kitchen door and filled the hot water urn, set it to boil. ‘I think we might as well use
that rather than bother with all the kettles. Right, one of you find bread while I raid the fridge, and we’ll see what cake there is left, and then, Viv, you can tell me what’s on your mind.’

  Joy raised an eyebrow, and Viv laughed uneasily. ‘You don’t let much slip past, do you?’

  ‘I try not to.’

  ‘Right,’ Viv said. ‘You see, Rina, I’ve got a bit of a problem.’

  Chandler had called Mac into Melissa’s office.

  ‘Phone lines are down,’ Mac said. ‘We’ve still got erratic mobile coverage.’

  The lights flickered, but did not completely fail. ‘Not good,’ Chandler said. ‘I understand this place has a generator? We should sort it out. I’ll send Brown and borrow your Tim.’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Mac said. ‘Tim is wonderful when it comes to modelling obscure and ancient trickery, but if it needs a spanner then you’re best finding someone else. Terry’s looking bored, send him.’

  Chandler laughed. ‘Can I trust him with my constable? He might be a suspect.’

  ‘So if Brown gets hit over the head, we’ll know who did it. What have you found out?’ Chandler seemed to have spent half the afternoon on his mobile telephone.

  ‘That I’ve been treated like a mushroom yet again.’

  ‘Kept in the dark and fed shit?’

  ‘Right.’ Chandler sounded bitter.

  Mac looked at him expectantly.

  ‘This place is already under investigation. No one thought to tell us locals, of course, and what I know now you could write on the back of a fag packet.’

  ‘Serious crimes unit?’

  Chandler nodded. ‘My boss tells me we’ve got someone on the inside. He doesn’t know who, of course.’

  Mac nodded; even if Chandler’s boss did know, he wouldn’t say. ‘I suppose we should hope it wasn’t Edwin, Simeon or Toby.’

  ‘That would complicate matters.’

  ‘Any news on the cavalry arriving?’

  ‘Stuck in a snowdrift ten miles down the road. There’s a public footpath that cuts across below the cottage and the barn where we found Toby. If anyone can get through that far, they’ll walk the rest of the way over the fields.’ Chandler didn’t look hopeful.

 

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