Beneath the Soil

by Fay Sampson

  ‘Being scared seems to be the default value in Moortown. John Nosworthy was. He didn’t say so, but I’m sure of it.’

  ‘I thought he was just talking to you about the money from the stalls?’

  Suzie looked at him blankly as he turned his eyes back to the road. Slowly the truth caught up with her. She had been so intent on telling him about her scary encounter with Clive Stroud that it had not occurred to her to mention that brief meeting with Frances’s cousin afterwards.

  ‘Yes. I forgot to say. He’s Frances’s cousin. He’s got another solicitor’s firm. Since he’s dealing with Eileen’s interests, they agreed that it would be better for her to represent Philip. I think that he’s acting for Matthew, the son, too. It was nothing, really. He’s been part of the team in Moortown organizing this event for me. Like I told those men, he came to bring me some money. But afterwards … well, I wasn’t quite honest with them about it. He said I could ring him if I ever needed help. He gave me his phone number.’

  ‘And what help did he think you might need?’

  ‘He didn’t say. But … well, it’s just a hunch I had … the way he was looking around, as if to see who might be watching … I just had a feeling he might be scared of something, or someone.’

  ‘Judging by what happened to us, he might have a reason to be. If he’s representing Eileen’s estate and the evidence is turning against Philip, then the heavy mob who tried to put the frighteners on us could have it in for him as well.’

  ‘He’s a solicitor! It’s his job to safeguard her interests.’

  ‘Try telling that to Philip’s friends.’

  TWENTY-ONE

  Tom greeted Suzie’s identification of the man in the photograph with incredulous laughter.

  ‘I knew there was something familiar about that face! Of course. He’s all over the local paper most weeks. Opening an agricultural show, supporting some campaign to keep the village pub open. Gets himself about.’ He swung round to Nick, grinning broadly. ‘Hey, the police are going to love us. Did you take the photo round there? I bet it’s going all round the station. “Look, folks, it’s those Fewings nutters again. Guess who they’ve pinned the murder on this time. Only the Moortown MP!”’

  The probable truth of this mortified Suzie.

  ‘Did you tell them?’ She turned on Nick.

  He nodded.

  It was Millie who came to her rescue. ‘Oh, and since when were MPs models of virtue? Just because he’s a Member of Parliament doesn’t mean he had nothing to do with Mrs Caseley’s death.’

  Suzie tried to turn the conversation to less embarrassing matters. She had been genuinely frightened in Clive Stroud’s presence, but what happened afterwards had radically altered the picture.

  ‘Nick’s got something else to tell you.’

  She looked round at him expectantly, and caught the sudden narrowing of his eyes. He reached into the pocket of his gilet and drew out a small paper bag. She watched in surprise as he extracted a little cardboard box and laid it on the kitchen table. He lifted the lid to reveal a piece of grey stone inset with a reddish layer curiously engraved with a network of lines.

  Millie read the label. ‘Icthyosaur coprolite. Fish scales visible. Found at Pormouth. Hey, prehistoric fish! Those scales are really pretty.’

  Of course. If Nick had wanted to find out more about the geology of Saddlers Wood, he would have had to buy his way into the conversation, convince the geologist he was genuinely interested.

  Millie turned a curious face to her father. ‘What’s coprolite?’

  He grinned at her. ‘Fossil poo.’

  Millie dropped the stone and wiped her hands on her jeans, as though they could still be contaminated by the petrified remains.

  ‘Ugh! That’s gross! Why would you want to buy that?’

  ‘It’s from a prehistoric sort of dolphin, about one hundred and seventy million years ago.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Tom said. His smile teased Suzie. ‘Hey, Mum! This puts your thousand years of family history in the shade.’

  ‘And, as Millie said, the scales of the fish it ate are really rather artistic, don’t you think?’ Nick suggested. ‘There was this bloke in the square selling them. He did have complete fish, but I couldn’t afford those. The great thing about it is, this didn’t come from some place like South America. He picked it up on a beach not twenty miles from here.’

  As the two teenagers bent over his find, Suzie lifted her face to Nick. He shook his head slightly and raised a finger to his lips.

  So, she thought, he doesn’t want to tell them what Bernard Summers found on Caseley land. Her mind flew back to something he had said in the car.

  ‘Gold is dangerous stuff.’

  It was true. Neither of them knew whether finding gold was really more valuable to Philip Caseley than any other mineral with commercial use might have been. But the very word carried a powerful, even fatal magic. She could tell herself that gold was just another metal, yet it was still undeniably beautiful. It had qualities of permanence and incorruptibility. You could dig up a two-thousand-year-old artefact and brush the soil away and immediately you would see the bright gleam of gold, unlike silver or iron. But it was something more than its beauty and permanence that made men go wild over it and fight each other to get hold of it. The Conquistadores had laid waste to large swathes of South America to get their hands on the fabled gold of El Dorado.

  Nick had clearly judged that entrusting this secret even to Millie and Tom was too dangerous.

  Suzie would have liked to share it with someone. They could have sworn the teenagers to secrecy. But now she must keep this dangerous truth to herself.

  Did anyone else in Moortown know it, or guess?

  ‘Oh,’ Nick said triumphantly, ‘and there’s this.’

  His long legs took him into the hall. He returned proudly bearing Suzie’s giant cheque.

  ‘Hey! Not bad!’ Tom cried. ‘Well done, Mum.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t exactly pull the tractor across the moor myself. And this is just the Young Farmers’ sponsor money. There was a whole lot of other stuff going on around the square, like that stall where Nick bought his fossil poo. Someone gave me a big bag of money afterwards, but I’ve left them to count it and put it in the bank.’

  ‘So,’ Millie looked at Suzie thoughtfully, ‘you’ve raised several thousand pounds. You’ve put a name to that sinister guy at the funeral, and found out he had a good reason to be there. Dad’s obviously enjoyed himself. Sounds like a good afternoon.’

  Can she pick up the vibes about how I’m feeling? Suzie wondered. We haven’t said a word about that group of farmers hemming us in at the top of Mill Lane. Or John Nosworthy’s eyes going anxiously around the square. Or Bernard Summers’ explosive news of the real situation between Philip and Eileen. Does she guess? Or do I look like someone who’s had a successful afternoon?

  Back in their bedroom, she closed the door.

  ‘We can’t really keep this to ourselves, can we? I know Tom’s right. We’re probably a laughing stock at the police station. But what you found out is serious. If Philip really was sitting on a fortune, and Eileen wouldn’t let him sell the rights …’

  ‘Then it looks bad for him.’

  ‘That’s not a reason to keep quiet about it, is it? Nick, you have to tell the police.’

  He ran a rueful hand through his wavy hair. ‘I know that. Bernard Summers said he’d kill me if I told anyone else, but I’m hoping that was just a figure of speech.’

  ‘We can trust him, can’t we? I mean, he really does know what he’s talking about with the gold? I don’t think I could bear making a fool of ourselves in front of the police again.’

  ‘It won’t be you making a fool of yourself. Well, maybe over the photograph. But what happened with Bernard Summers is down to me. And he’s not going to like it if I tell them. If no one else knows about his find, except Philip, then he’s going to be a key witness for the prosecution when it comes to the t
rial.’

  ‘There must obviously have been a rumour about finding something on his land. Philip fooled everyone into thinking he was against mining there. Nobody in Moortown seems to know what it was, or that it was really Eileen who was opposing it. Nobody knows except Bernard Summers. And now us.’

  ‘I was thinking of leaving it until Monday. Now they’ve charged Philip, I guess a lot of the murder squad have been stood down. Back to office hours while they put the prosecution case together. But I’m beginning to feel I’d like to get this off my chest.’

  Suzie put out her hand to touch his arm. ‘You’re not seriously worried, are you? About yourself? Those farmers didn’t talk as though anyone in Moortown knows just what Bernard Summers told you.’

  ‘That’s what he said. But I told you, he has a loose tongue. I couldn’t cross my heart and swear that he hasn’t let slip a hint to someone else. And the farmers who threatened us know I was talking to him. That I went to his house.’

  ‘That’s small town life for you, isn’t it? It’s hard to keep anything secret.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of secrets anyway. I think I’ll slip round to the station this evening. I don’t imagine DCI Brewer will be there, but I should find someone to take a statement.’ He put his hand under her chin and turned her face up to his. ‘Don’t look so worried. I’m a big boy; I’ll look after myself. Tell you what, I don’t imagine you’re feeling like cooking after a day like this. Why don’t I take us all to that new Indian restaurant in town?’

  Suzie accepted gratefully. It would be good to set a comfort zone between herself and the unsettling events of the day.

  When she opened the bedroom door, Tom was waiting at the top of the stairs, excitement in his face.

  ‘Result!’ he crowed. ‘I googled your man, and guess what? Clive Stroud is a director of Merlin Mines.’

  After the meal, they left Tom in town and dropped Millie off at Tamara’s house. In the driver’s seat, Nick turned to Suzie with that boyish grin which told her he was nervous about what he was going to do, but would do it anyway.

  ‘Shall we get this over with?’

  ‘It’s your call. You were the one he talked to.’

  Nick drove past the avenue where they lived and turned into the police headquarters at the top of the hill.

  ‘Stay here. There’s no need for you to get involved.’

  Suzie already had her hand on the door handle, but she let him get out and slam the driver’s door behind him. She watched him walk across the car park to the steps of the police station and disappear inside.

  There was some activity of police cars coming and going, but it was only mid-evening. As the Saturday night wore on, the police would have their hands full of drunk and violent offenders. Just now, this civilian part of the car park was rather quieter than she might have wished. She was not usually of a nervous disposition, but tonight she regretted not going inside with Nick. She found herself watching each new arrival cautiously.

  What did she have to be frightened of? She was safely back in the cathedral city, miles from Moortown. That threatening group of farmers had no reason to menace her here. Her fears about the man in the photograph had been partially allayed. There now seemed to be a good reason for Frances to end their short-lived relationship so abruptly. Philip undoubtedly did have a motive to kill his wife.

  Yet she found her hand straying back to the door handle. Was it too late to change her mind and go after Nick? He might still be sitting in the reception area, waiting his turn to speak to the duty officer at the desk.

  Perhaps not. The very act of going to seek the comfort of Nick’s companionship would be an acknowledgement that she really did have something to be afraid of.

  The minutes lengthened out before Nick reappeared.

  He threw himself into the driver’s seat. ‘Just what you’d expect. He listened to me with a poker-straight face, like he’s heard that kind of thing a hundred times before. “Thank you, sir. I’ll pass on the information to DCI Brewer. If she thinks it’s of importance, she’ll be in touch with you.”’

  ‘He didn’t say when?’

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine. Now that Philip’s safely in prison, I don’t expect she’s giving up her Sundays. Well, not on this case, anyway. Who knows what other crimes she’s got on her plate.’

  Suzie stared out at the leafy car park as he started the engine. ‘That’s a strange thought. The way it must look from her angle. We get marginally involved in a murder and it seems like the most important thing on the planet. I can’t stop thinking about it, and everything that’s happened since seems to tie into it. But for her, it’s just a job. Arrest Philip Caseley, stack up a good case against him, and juggle half a dozen other serious crimes at the same time. It must be an odd way to spend your life. It has to take you over, like you’re always seeing cops on the telly having to drop a night out with their wife or girlfriend because there’s been another murder. And yet they can’t afford to get too personally involved.’

  They were turning into their avenue already. Nick turned to smile reassurance.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’re not professionals, thank God. One murder at a time is quite enough for us.’

  Suzie let the peace of the Sunday morning service at the Methodist church flow around her. When it was over, she was lapped about with the warm friendship of chat over coffee and biscuits. She walked back to the house with Nick, feeling happier.

  The light was winking on the answerphone. Nick stopped to retrieve the message.

  ‘Inspector Brewer,’ he told Suzie. ‘She’ll see me tomorrow afternoon at the cop shop.’

  ‘Did she sound interested?’

  ‘You know what they’re like. She wasn’t giving anything away.’

  Suzie had to wait impatiently for him to come home on Monday. He came breezing into the house with almost as much energy as Tom. She saw excitement in the flash of his blue eyes.

  ‘There’s something going on! I’m sure there is. I expected her to do the usual po-faced routine. “Thank you, sir. Just sign your statement. We’ll be in touch if there’s anything further.” But it wasn’t a bit like that. The moment I mentioned Bernard Summers’ name, it was like I’d lit a fuse to a gunpowder keg. She practically exploded. Wanted to know every last thing I could remember. Exactly what he said. Where he took me. What he showed me. Everything I’d picked up about how he reacted.’

  Suzie stiffened. Her hands were gripping the edge of the kitchen table. ‘You don’t think she knows something about him? Something you didn’t get? Is it even possible,’ the thoughts were racing through her head, ‘that they think he could have done it? Killed Eileen?’

  Nick dropped into an armchair. ‘Search me. But something’s going on, that’s for sure.’ He ran his hand through his black hair in that familiar gesture. ‘That guy’s a weirdo, I give them that. If I hadn’t wanted to find out more about what’s underneath Saddlers Wood, I’d have run a mile from someone as garrulous as that. But at least I thought he was harmless, just the local town bore. I was willing to put up with him, buy one of his fossils, just to get a glimpse of what might be behind all this. It’s true, I got more than I bargained for. A pretty powerful reason for Philip to turn his gun on his wife. But I thought Bernard Summers was just the messenger. It never occurred to me that behind all this torrent of information he might actually be personally involved.’

  ‘You said he threatened you if you told anyone else what he’d said.’

  That rueful grin again. ‘I did, didn’t I? I took it for granted it was a figure of speech, though I have to admit that the guy did look scared that he’d said too much.’

  ‘Whatever it was, it sounds as though it didn’t need you to tell DCI Brewer about it. She obviously knew something about him already.’

  ‘Yes, but she wasn’t about to tell me what it was.’

  Suzie frowned. ‘But why would he be scared because he’d told you Philip and Eileen quarrelled over whether to allow minin
g for gold on their land? That doesn’t incriminate him. Just the other way round.’

  ‘Unless Philip promised him a percentage.’

  ‘That would make sense, wouldn’t it?’ She stared at him with new alarm.

  ‘Well, I’ve done it now, haven’t I? Spilled the beans.’

  ‘Then, if he really is guilty of something, I hope they get on and arrest him. I don’t like to think of an emotionally precarious man like him walking around knowing you told them, when he swore you to secrecy.’

  He stood up and fondled her hair. ‘I’m a responsible adult. I can hack it. Are the kids in for supper?’

  It was a fine evening. Nick laid the supper table out on the patio. There seemed no reason to switch on the local news indoors.

  TWENTY-TWO

  It was not until Wednesday, as Suzie was picking up some odds and ends in a small supermarket in town, that she passed a stand with the local newspaper. She did not buy it every week. It depended whether there was an interesting story. The banner headline this week was about the unexpected closure of one of the city’s secondary schools. A quick glance assured Suzie that it was not Millie’s. She turned the folded paper over to scan the lower half.

  A smaller headline shouted out at her.

  LOCAL GEOLOGIST FOUND DROWNED

  Avidly she read on.

  Bernard Summers, well-known geologist and fossil hunter of Moortown, was found dead in a stream on the moor yesterday …

  There was a photograph.

  Suzie added the newspaper to her basket and headed for the till.

  Outside, she found a circular bench around a tree on the pavement and sat down to read more. The name Bernard Summers was screaming in her head with the insistence of a smoke alarm.

  … Neighbours became alarmed on Monday when he failed to open his stone and fossil shop. The police are believed to have entered the premises, where the geologist lived in a flat above the shop. Yesterday two walkers out on the moor discovered the body face down in one of the moorland streams. A police source would make no comment on how he met his death, but said that investigations are ongoing. Friends of the deceased said he frequently went out on the moor or the coast, prospecting for minerals and collecting specimens.