Murder in Bloom

by Lesley Cookman

  ‘Must be the boundary of the estate,’ thought Libby. ‘And still no sign of a tunnel.’

  Dispirited, she hauled herself to her feet and struck off to her left, which, if her sense of direction was intact, would take her back to the meadow below the ha-ha. Sure enough, through the trees, she could see the artificial trench with its retaining wall, which must start, she thought, looking round, about here. And then her feet went out from under her and she slid inelegantly forward into darkness.

  When she’d recovered enough to know (a) she wasn’t dead and (b) she could still see daylight behind her, she sat up.

  ‘This is it,’ she whispered to herself as she got tentatively to her feet. The ceiling of the opening was the same height as the ha-ha, so it looked as though it ran under the meadow and must have been created at the same time. She looked left and right, and ahead, but could see nothing. ‘And this,’ she continued to herself, ‘is where the heroine of the film naturally goes forward into impenetrable darkness without anyone knowing where she is.’ She grinned at herself and began to look round the floor near her feet, lit slightly by the daylight behind, which seemed mainly to consist of rotting leaves. And then, just behind her, almost out of sight, something that looked slightly different.

  Gingerly, she got down on her knees and pulled at a corner, which revealed the object as a leather document case. With shaking fingers, Libby unzipped it, although the zip was both old and slightly rusty. Inside, she could see what looked like a birth certificate, and closed it again hastily. There was no reason why she shouldn’t look, but she felt instinctively that it was none of her business and that the police should see it first.

  She scrambled shakily out of the hole and stood looking at it. If it was an entrance to a tunnel, somebody else would have to investigate, but she had seen no evidence of bricks, only packed earth, so it looked as though it possibly wasn’t the ice-house. She turned and made her way along the bottom of the ha-ha until she got to the place where she could climb up to the meadow. Then, deciding not to take her find to the house, she made for the lane and from there to the Land Rover at the bottom of the drive. Once inside, she called Ian Connell, thanking her lucky stars that she still had his mobile number in her phone memory.

  It took some time for him to answer, and when he did he didn’t sound too pleased to hear from her.

  ‘No, Ian, listen,’ she said urgently. ‘I’ve just fallen into some kind of tunnel at Creekmarsh and found this case. I think it’s got a birth certificate in

  it.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Well, you know we thought Cindy Dale must be looking for documents? Couldn’t this be it?’

  There was a short silence. ‘Does anyone else know you’ve found this?’

  ‘No. I came straight to the Land Rover and called you. What shall I do? Shall I bring it in?’

  ‘No,’ said Ian, slowly. ‘We’d better have a look at this place where you found it. Can you wait there for us?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Libby doubtfully. ‘They’ve got television people here, so it won’t be easy for you to get down there without people seeing. Shall I tell anyone?’

  ‘You’d better tell Mrs North and Osbourne-Walker we’re coming.’

  ‘If I can detach him from the television people,’ said Libby.

  ‘We’ll be there as quickly as we can,’ said Ian and rang off. Libby climbed down from the Land Rover and plodded up the drive.

  Katie was in the kitchen with Edie. Libby had worked out what to say and hoped there wouldn’t be too many questions.

  ‘Just to tell you,’ she said, ‘the police are coming back shortly to have a look at the area down by the river.’

  Katie and Edie looked at her blankly.

  ‘Are they?’ said Katie. ‘What for?’

  ‘I don’t really know,’ said Libby. ‘Had I better tell Lewis?’

  ‘Well –’ said Katie.

  ‘See you in a bit, then,’ said Libby, and vanished.

  She made quickly for the parterre, where she beckoned to Adam and whispered her news to him before jogging back to the Land Rover just in time, as Ian’s car drew up in the lane, followed by a police car.

  ‘You have your uses, I suppose,’ said Ian, shaking Libby’s hand.

  ‘Here you are,’ she said. ‘I only had a quick look. I haven’t taken anything out.’ She handed over the case. Ian looked inside and drew out some documents. He nodded.

  ‘Cindy’s marriage certificate,’ he said. ‘And her original passport. This is what she was looking for all right.’

  ‘Is there anything else?’

  ‘Yes, but I haven’t time to look at them now.’ He grinned at her. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll let you know what they are, even if I shouldn’t. Where’s this hole?’

  Libby led them down the lane to avoid the company in the parterre, and along the trench.

  ‘This isn’t the first time you’ve fallen into a hole, is it?’ said Ian, with another grin.

  ‘No, but I don’t know how you know about the first time,’ said Libby.

  ‘Word gets around.’ Ian bent his head and went into the opening carefully, motioning his minions to do the same. Libby watched from a safe distance. Eventually, Ian came out looking grubby and beckoned her over.

  ‘There seem to be passages leading both ways from here,’ he said.

  ‘Down to the river and an ice house,’ said Libby.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Ian frowned.

  ‘An educated guess,’ said Libby. ‘And the other way will lead to the house with some kind of offshoot tunnels to the pub and the church.’

  ‘Fran told me about the tunnels, but as we didn’t find any sign of them inside the house we didn’t pursue it,’ said Ian, still frowning. ‘You think there’s an ice-house near the river?’

  ‘That’s where they were always built, for easy access,’ said Libby, ‘and of course it helped the smugglers.’

  ‘Where we found the boat?’

  ‘Probably. It looked to me as though there could be an entrance up on the bank.’

  ‘When were you there, or is that a silly question?’

  ‘This morning. I was on my way back when I fell into the hole under the ha-ha.’

  ‘Show me,’ said Ian, and motioned her to take the lead.

  ‘Shouldn’t you tell your mates to try the left-hand tunnel and see if we meet up?’ asked Libby. Ian scowled at her.

  ‘I’ll do that when I’ve had a look from this end,’ he said.

  He was more adept at crawling through the vegetation than Libby, and soon confirmed that there was what looked like an opening, shielded by brambles, above the still fluttering police tape.

  ‘I don’t know why we didn’t notice it before,’ he said, as he slithered back down to join Libby.

  ‘You weren’t looking for it,’ said Libby.

  ‘Did Cindy come this way? Instead of across the field?’ Ian pulled at his lower lip. ‘Was that a blind? Leaving the boat where it was?’

  ‘Or perhaps she came down, took the boat, sailed it or rowed it round into the inlet and escaped through the tunnel,’ suggested Libby.

  ‘How did she know about the tunnel?’

  ‘She was living here when she disappeared, wasn’t she? And was supposedly looking after Gerald, who we now know was already suffering from Alzheimer’s. He could have told her without realising.’

  Ian nodded. ‘Possible,’ he said. ‘Probable, even.’ He gave Libby a quick smile and she could see what Fran had seen in him. ‘Thanks, Libby. You and Fran between you might be a bloody nuisance sometimes, but as I said before, you have your uses.’

  Libby grinned. ‘I know,’ she said.

  They returned to the entrance under the ha-ha and Ian went in after his officers. Libby sat on
the ground with her back against the retaining wall and squinted in the sunlight. Muffled sounds and voices came from behind her, but she was unable to distinguish anything other than the odd call of ‘Sir!’ She wondered who was in charge of the search of the passage towards the house, and whether it would be open, or if all the theories would go tumbling down in the face of a rockfall or an extended root system.

  Her thoughts were disturbed by a much louder scuffling and confusion and Ian, followed by a constable with a mobile to his ear and a green look about his face, stumbled out into the open.

  ‘What?’ said Libby.

  ‘I shouldn’t really tell you,’ he said and held out a

  hand to help her up. ‘But you’ve a right to know.’ Libby scrambled upright. ‘Know what?’ ‘Cindy Dale. She didn’t go anywhere. We’ve just

  found her body.’

  Chapter Thirty-one

  ‘IN THE ICE-HOUSE,’ Libby told Fran over the phone. She was sitting in the Land Rover feeling distinctly shaky. ‘It was where we thought, by the river. And there is a tunnel right through to the house. They’re trying to find out where it comes out at the moment.’

  ‘What about the tunnels to the pub and the church?’ asked Fran.

  ‘I haven’t asked. Ian was too busy. I was lucky he told me what he did. Trouble is, I’m now a witness, because I told him where I thought the entrance from the river was and showed him the opening where I fell in. I’ve got to make a statement.’

  ‘You’ve done that before,’ said Fran, ‘don’t worry about it.’

  ‘I’m not, but I want to go home.’ Libby shivered. ‘I’m beginning to hate this place.’

  ‘Can’t you go home? They can always come out and see you.’

  ‘Not unless Ian says I can, and he’s a bit tied up at the moment. He told me to wait here.’

  ‘Then I don’t suppose he’ll be long,’ said Fran soothingly. ‘You’ll soon be back to normal and revising all our theories.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Libby, thinking. ‘If Cindy didn’t kill Tony –’

  ‘Ah, but she still might have.’

  ‘But someone killed Cindy. Why?’

  ‘Good question,’ said Fran. ‘I’ll have a think about it. Call me when you get home.’

  After another ten minutes, Libby was getting edgy. She climbed out of the Land Rover, locked it and walked up the drive to the house. In the kitchen she found Lewis, Edie and Katie, all looking scared, with the police presence evident from the sounds of boots from all directions.

  ‘Have they found the entrance yet?’ asked Libby.

  Lewis shook his head. ‘They can’t open it from the tunnel, and we can’t hear anything from inside the house, so they haven’t got a clue where it is.’

  ‘They’ll bring in all sorts of sophisticated equipment, you’ll see,’ said Libby, ‘and pinpoint it with absolute accuracy.’

  ‘How did Cindy know it was there?’ asked Katie. ‘I could have sworn she wasn’t that familiar with the house.’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t go into it from the house,’ said Libby. ‘Before they found the – er – her, I thought she’d taken the boat and left it as a sort of red herring and escaped through the tunnel from the other end, so perhaps she did that, but someone caught her.’

  ‘Someone who’d come from the house?’ asked Lewis dubiously.

  ‘Or someone who was waiting for her down there.’

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘How do I know?’ Libby shrugged and turned to Katie. ‘How long was it since you saw her till we discovered she’d gone?’

  ‘Not long. I made a pot of tea. You came in and asked me if I’d taken her a cup.’ Katie looked up at Lewis. Edie still hadn’t said anything, but clasped Lewis’s arm tightly.

  ‘Couldn’t have been longer than twenty minutes,’ said Lewis. ‘How did she get down to the river in that time without being seen?’

  ‘That’s always been the question,’ said Libby, ‘but if she went through the tunnel, that explains it.’

  ‘What was the tunnel like?’ asked Katie. ‘I mean, was it clear?’

  ‘I didn’t go into the tunnels, just the bit where there’s the opening I fell into. But that was full of leaves and stuff. I see what you mean, though. If the tunnels hadn’t been used for a long time they could be blocked up. I thought that myself while I was waiting down – um – there.’

  ‘She wouldn’t be able to go fast, would she?’ said Katie. ‘And didn’t she take a bag with her?’

  ‘That’s what I said at the time,’ said Libby. ‘If she ran down to the boathouse after getting out through that little side door we found open, she must have gone like the wind. And no one saw her.’

  ‘But she couldn’t run along a tunnel in the dark with a heavy bag, either,’ said Katie.

  ‘Unless she had a torch. I wonder if they found one?’ said Libby.

  ‘It would make sense, though,’ said Katie, getting up to move the kettle onto the Aga. ‘That’s why none of us saw her.’

  ‘Why you didn’t see her,’ said Lewis. ‘We weren’t here. You were the only one in the kitchen.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t see her. I told you,’ said Katie, warming the brown teapot. ‘And why was that little door open?’

  ‘A ruse,’ said Libby. ‘She opened it to look as though she went that way.’

  ‘We still don’t know how she got to the tunnel if she did go that way, though,’ said Lewis. ‘It must be somewhere near that door.’

  ‘There isn’t anything near it – just a passage,’ said Libby. ‘And Fran and I looked round the outside and there’s no sign of any concealed doors or whatever.’

  Katie poured water into the teapot. ‘They’ll find it, don’t worry,’ she said comfortably. ‘Trust the police.’

  ‘They wouldn’t have found her body without me poking my nose in,’ said Libby. ‘They’d have gone on looking for her for the murder of Tony West and the suspected murder of Kenneth.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Katie, setting out mugs. ‘At least she won’t be going after Gerald now. If he really is alive.’

  ‘Oh, he’s alive all right,’ said Libby. ‘Ian just won’t tell us where, but I’m pretty sure he’s already been to see him.’

  ‘Has he?’ Katie looked up.

  ‘He hasn’t said so, but Frank at the pub will have told him the name of the home, so he must have been by now.’

  ‘And not got very far if he’s got Alzheimer’s,’ said Lewis gloomily. ‘What a bugger. I wish I’d never seen this place.’

  ‘Well, you have,’ said Katie, ‘and you’re going to get a good series out of it, so stop moaning. C’mon, Edie, have a biscuit with your tea.’

  Ian appeared at the door, his habitual scowl much in evidence.

  ‘I thought I said to wait for me,’ he said to Libby.

  ‘I have,’ she said. ‘I didn’t see why I shouldn’t wait in here in comfort rather than sitting in a stifling car.’ She smiled at Katie, who pushed a full mug towards her.

  ‘Could you come outside for a moment.’ It wasn’t a question. Libby sighed, got up and followed him out into the hall.

  ‘I need to take a formal statement,’ he said stiffly. ‘I can hardly do that with them in there.’

  ‘I know,’ said Libby. ‘But wouldn’t it be better if someone came round to see me at home? You can’t do it here, and I’m blowed if I’m trailing in to the police station.’

  Ian sighed. ‘All right, all right,’ he said. ‘Are you in this evening?’

  ‘I can be,’ said Libby and batted her eyelashes at him. His scowl deepened.

  ‘I’ll come with one of the DCs,’ he said, ‘if that’s all right. As soon as I can get away.’

  ‘Don’t rush,’ said Libby, with a grin. ‘I’ll wait.’
<
br />   ‘He’s coming to take my statement tonight,’ she said, returning to the kitchen, ‘so I can go when I’ve finished my tea.’

  ‘Did he tell you anything?’ asked Lewis.

  ‘No, he wouldn’t. If I can get Fran to come over this evening she might be able to get something out of him. He’s still got a soft spot for her.’

  ‘Nice looking, he is,’ said Katie with a nod. ‘You couldn’t do better than him, lovey.’

  ‘I’m spoken for, Katie, but thanks for the thought. Anyone got anything they’d like to ask him if we get him in a mellow mood?’

  ‘When can I get back to normal,’ said Lewis, looking gloomier than ever. ‘Never-ending, this bloody business.’

  Katie put her hands on the table and pushed herself upright. ‘You just ask him to get it all cleared up nice and quick,’ she said. ‘Edie, you look like you need a lie down. Not nice, murder, is it?’ And she shepherded Lewis’s mother out of the room towards her little sitting room.

  ‘Is your mum all right?’ asked Libby.

  ‘Just a bit shaky,’ said Lewis. ‘All a bit much for her, I reckon.’

  ‘A bit much for you, too,’ said Libby, patting his shoulder. ‘I’ll get out of your way. Tell Ad I’ve gone home, will you?’

  ‘OK, and thanks, Libby.’ Lewis gave her a kiss.

  ‘What for? Finding a body and making life more complicated?’ Libby shook her head. ‘Not a good move.’

  ‘’Course it was,’ said Lewis, walking beside her down the drive. ‘They’re that much nearer clearing it all up because you went nosing around. You ought to get a medal, that’s what.’

  ‘So should Fran,’ said Libby.

  ‘For getting me out of clink,’ said Lewis. ‘So she should.’

  Ian and the fresh-faced Constable Maiden, he of the bright blue eyes and red hair, arrived at number 17 Allhallow’s Lane only minutes after Fran and Guy that evening. Guy promptly dragged Adam and Ben out for a drink, winking at Fran over Ian’s shoulder. She made a face.