by Bill Kitson
‘Well, if you can’t get dressed, why not stick them on a radiator and come back to bed until they’re dry?’ I patted the duvet invitingly.
Eve stuck her tongue out. ‘Don’t be greedy, Adam. I will put them on the radiator and I’ll manage without until they’re dry.’
‘If you want, I’ll drive you across to Rowandale this afternoon, then you can collect your smalls and we can check that Barbara’s OK. Killing two birds with one stone.’
Eve turned and blew me a kiss. ‘Thanks, Adam, I’ll go put the coffee on while you get dressed, shall I?’
With the cabaret over I got dressed and followed her. My contentment must have been obvious when I entered the kitchen, because Eve looked at me and commented, ‘That’s an extremely smug expression on your face, Mr Bailey.’
I put my arms around her waist and kissed her lightly. ‘Of course it is. You have given me the most precious gift a woman could give a man.’
Eve considered this for a moment. ‘I suppose that’s true, but I didn’t think of it that way. Not at the time. For one thing it was so natural and right between us–’she paused and gave me another salacious grin,‘–and besides, I was enjoying myself too much.’
When we had eaten brunch, which consisted of toast and more coffee, we set off for Rowandale to retrieve the missing lingerie. What had been intended to be no more than a flying visit was extended, in the first instance, because when we arrived at Linden House, there was no one around. The house doors were locked, and I could tell Eve was worried. I looked across towards the far wall, where Barbara’s Mini Cooper was dwarfed by the horse box. ‘She obviously hasn’t driven anywhere. Maybe someone collected her and took her out for Sunday lunch.’
Eve’s concern for her friend was contagious, and although both of us were reluctant to give voice to our fear, thoughts of the recent intrusion and the possibility that Barbara might have come to some harm were in our minds. I suggested we check the stables. All the horses were securely in their boxes, except one. Eve sighed with relief. ‘The grey from that end box is her horse. She likes to exercise it when she can.’
With no sign of Barbara, we waited; our indecision and unease mounting, until Eve, who could see the open country beyond the stables, pointed towards the edge of Rowandale Forest. ‘There she is. How odd, I wonder what made her choose to go in that direction.’
I moved to one side so I could get a better view. The tiny figure on the large grey in the far distance was definitely that of the trainer, and it looked as if she had just emerged from the dense woodland. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Barbara told me the forest has a bad reputation amongst the locals. It’s very dark and dense, and there are parts of it that no one has ventured into for years and years. Even the owners of the estate haven’t been into more than a quarter of it. She told me it’s huge, over ten thousand acres.’
‘It certainly covers a big area, not only on this side of the dale, but on the far side as well, reaching right up to the high moors. And I guess it only stops there because it’s above the tree line. Why the evil reputation, though?’
‘Apparently, the locals reckon it was all to do with terrible things that had happened in the past, but nobody is sure whether that’s true or legend. You remember, she mentioned that skipping rhyme and where that might have originated?’
I nodded, and Eve continued, ‘Barbara said that although nobody knows the origin, the rumours continued until recently, when they had all but died down and people were beginning to forget, until the past few months, when there have been a few strange sightings, and more than one person has reported having been in the edge of the forest and sensed that they were not alone. So naturally, the whispers have all started again.’
‘How fascinating, a haunted forest. Sounds like something by the Brothers Grimm. I don’t suppose there’s a gingerbread house in the middle, is there?’ I was treated to one of Eve’s withering glances. She does those very well. Fortunately for our harmony, Barbara’s approach stopped further discussion. It was almost as if her return acted as the signal to kick off a series of events that none of us could have foreseen.
The horse had been stabled and Eve was in the middle of explaining the reason for our unannounced visit when I heard the sound of several vehicles approaching.
There were three cars, and they came down the drive to Linden House as if the drivers thought they owned the place. Which, as we soon discovered, one of them believed he did. The first was a Mercedes sports car, identical to the one I’d seen the previous week parked on the edge of the moor. As the driver emerged, or rather exploded from the vehicle, I recognized him as the man I’d seen. Given the tenor of their discussion that day, I was mildly surprised to see the Land Rover driver emerge from the back-marker of the trio of vehicles. Sandwiched between them was a new-looking BMW, whose owner I’d never seen before.
I had little time to inspect him, though, because my attention was on the Mercedes owner, who was approaching me at speed, his face a purple mask of rage. He marched up to me and reached forward to grasp my sweater. The attempt failed, because I stepped back smartly and his fist closed on thin air, causing him to stumble. My suspicion that he’d been drinking was confirmed as he shouted, ‘Who the hell are you?’
Ignoring as best I could, the foul blast of whisky-laden breath that accompanied his words, I looked at Barbara. ‘Do you know this man?’
‘Unfortunately, I do. That is my soon to be ex-husband. Not soon enough for my liking. Ignore him; I’ve been trying to do it for years. His name, for what it’s worth, which I admit isn’t much, is Charles Lewis.’
Lewis spun round, but the whisky caused him to stumble again. He moved towards Barbara, gesturing back towards me. ‘Is that the bastard who’s been warming your bed, you filthy slut?’
Eve interrupted, her tone several degrees below icy. ‘How dare you? Kindly don’t refer to my fiancé in such disgusting terms. And, though it’s absolutely none of your business, the only bed he’s been warming is mine.’
Her words did nothing to appease Lewis’s rage; in fact they seemed only to add fuel to the fire. He looked at Eve for a second before returning his gaze to Barbara. I was still dwelling on the notion that I’d been promoted to the status of fiancé, when Lewis returned to the attack. All the while the interchange was being watched with interest by the two other new arrivals.
‘Listen to me, bitch, I want these people off my property at once, do you hear me?’ He gestured towards us.
‘It would be difficult not to hear you–you’re shouting. You’re also drunk. And you have absolutely no right to demand anything of me; you forfeited your rights long ago. If you want to play the big man, why not go do your pathetic posturing in front of that stupid whore you’ve shacked up with.’
‘Don’t you talk to me about rights; I’ll tell you what you can and can’t do,’ he bawled. ‘I’m going to make you live to regret crossing me. If you hadn’t been so frigid I might still be here. But now I know I have it in my power to ruin you. I’m going to ensure you lose everything; the house, the stables, even your licence. I’ll have it all and you’ll finish up penniless, on the street. Not that you’d earn much there, you’re too cold.’
‘And just how do you propose to do that, you pathetic little worm? Let me remind you that you’re the one who’s been screwing around, not me. Although, from what I hear she’s not too choosy about who she sleeps with. She can’t be, come to think of it, or she’d never have taken up with you. I only hope she changed the sheets and got herself checked over. You wouldn’t want to go catching some unpleasant disease. Mind you, that would be fairly apt, because you are an unpleasant disease.’
Lewis looked round for support and his gaze settled on the BMW driver, who, like his companion, had been silent up to then. ‘Tell her, Matthews,’ Lewis shouted, ‘tell her what you told me. Let’s see what the bitch has to say about it then.’
Trevor Matthews stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Barbara wi
th the cold venom of a snake. ‘I have to inform you that, as the representative of the new owners of Rowandale Hall, I shall be applying to the court to have the terms of Rupert Latimer’s will revoked. I don’t know what undue influence you brought to bear on the senile old man, whether it was sexual favours or some other service, or whether you simply instructed him to change the will whilst his mind was confused by dementia, but we will argue that he was of unsound mind when he added that codicil. We will demand that the provision be struck through and that the property represented within be taken back into the estate as part of the purchase agreement.’
The Land Rover driver then delivered a chilling postscript to the message. ‘I have to inform you that henceforth the gallops on Rowandale Moor will be closed to you. If you attempt to exercise your horses there, I will not be responsible for the consequences.’
I saw Barbara’s face turn ashen, and for a moment thought she was about to faint, but it was fury, not fear that fuelled her. She fixed her gaze on her ex-husband. ‘This is all your doing,’ she hissed. ‘Get off my land now, and take these two with you. You were no use as a husband, either in bed or out of it, and now you’ve proved you’re equally useless as a human being. I hope you can keep your new lady friend happier than you kept me; although I doubt it.’ She glanced downwards. ‘Yes, I doubt it very much, because even that limp little article doesn’t work properly, like the rest of you.’
Lewis stepped forward. One hand gripped Barbara’s throat, whilst the other was raised, fist clenched. I was about to intervene, but before I could move, before Lewis could deliver the threatened punch, his head was yanked violently back.
The tramp had appeared as if from nowhere. As we watched, powerless to move, he took hold of Lewis’s wrist and jerked it rigid, at the same time twisting it violently enough for his victim to open his mouth. The scream wasn’t uttered though, because the sharp-bladed knife against his throat acted as an effective silencer. ‘I guess it’s time you left.’ The tramp’s tone was calm, conversational. ‘And take your friends with you. Don’t think of coming back. If you ever set foot on this property again I’ll stain this knife with your blood.’
Even as he was speaking, the tramp hustled Lewis towards his car. Matthews was already inside the BMW, his hand reaching to lock the doors.
The Land Rover driver was the only one to stand his ground. He stared at the tramp, his hand firmly holding a thumb-stick. ‘Who the hell are you, to give orders here?’ he demanded, shaking the stick at him.
The tramp appeared to notice him for the first time. Having thrust Lewis, a quivering jelly, into the Mercedes, he turned towards the third intruder. Once again I was startled by the vagrant’s speed of movement. He took three steps forward, making a sweeping downward movement with the knife, as he neared his target. Enough was enough. The thumb-stick fell to the ground, split lengthways to give the appearance of twin garden canes. Its terrified owner turned and ran for his car.
There was only one minor accident as the vehicles reversed out of the drive, although such was the drivers’ panic there could well have been more. I noticed with satisfaction that Lewis clipped the gatepost in his haste to escape, creasing the wing of the Mercedes with an ugly dent.
Barbara turned to where the tramp had been standing only seconds before. ‘Where is he? I want to talk to him.’ She looked confused. ‘I need to thank him. Did either of you see which way he went?’
Eve and I looked round. Sure enough, the tramp had vanished as quickly and silently as he’d appeared. Barbara and Eve went down the stable yard, whilst I headed up the drive to check out the front of the house and the lane beyond. Five minutes later we met by the back door of the house. ‘There’s no sign of him round the front,’ I told the girls.
Barbara gestured towards the fields beyond the stables. ‘Unless he’s turned himself into a sheep, we couldn’t see him.’
The fields, bordered with drystone walls, sloped towards the river on one side, the shoulder of the hill being thickly wooded where Rowandale Forest began. I stared at the sheep grazing contentedly in the middle of the first field. ‘I doubt he went that way.’ I pointed towards the flock. ‘No way would they have stayed there if someone had walked or run past close to them.’
‘How strange. Then he must have gone up the drive. Are you certain that he wasn’t hiding somewhere around the front?’ Eve asked.
‘Absolutely; it’s more open there, all the way up to the crest of the moors.’
‘There is one positive result from that confrontation, though,’ Eve pointed out to Barbara. ‘Whatever happened to him, this mystery man doesn’t appear to pose a threat to you. Quite the opposite, from what we saw today, he seems intent on protecting you.’
‘Eve’s right,’ I added, ‘and when we encountered him last week, he said he was here to warn someone. What if that someone was you? Perhaps even then he was trying to protect you from something, whether it was real or imaginary.’
Barbara thought about what we’d said for a short while. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she sighed. ‘However, it is a little unnerving when a complete stranger appears like that and then vanishes just as rapidly, even if he means well.’
Eve took hold of Barbara’s arm. ‘I think from what we’ve just heard and seen you’re in more danger from the others than the tramp. What do you make of those threats about the house and the stables?’
‘I don’t know, Eve. I haven’t had time to take in what Matthews said yet. My immediate concern is what Armstrong said about the gallops.’
‘Armstrong? Is he the one with the Land Rover? Who is he?’
‘His name’s Walter Armstrong; he’s the new gamekeeper appointed by the shooting syndicate. They sacked Ezekiel Calvert, who had been employed by the Latimer family for many years, and brought this Armstrong in to replace him. Armstrong isn’t well liked in the village, mostly because of Ezekiel.’
‘What about the other man, Matthews, I think you said his name was. Who is he?’
‘Trevor Matthews, he’s the shoot secretary. I think there are about ten permanent members of the syndicate. The rights on the Rowandale estate are very expensive, and when the old man decided to rent the shooting out, this lot stepped in. Matthews is one of the leading lights. He’s a property developer from Leeds with a less than savoury reputation. He and one or two of his cronies are the ones who put up most of the money for the shoot.’
What had been planned as a flying visit ended up with us staying for tea, which enabled us to help Barbara formulate a strategy to counter the twin dangers she faced. Before these could be put into operation, however, matters took a dramatic and violent turn for the worse.
Chapter Five
We returned to Dene Cottage in the early part of the evening. The momentous change in our relationship had been all but overshadowed by the events of that afternoon. I was conscious of the fact that we needed to discuss the future, but in the event, that too had to be delayed.
‘At least you remembered your underwear this time,’ I joked as I unlocked the front door.
‘Wise guy! I don’t suppose you’ve ever forgotten anything important, have you?’
I was about to admit my frailties in that department, but something in Eve’s words drew my attention. I stopped in the act of turning the key. Eve, who was becoming uncomfortably proficient at reading my thoughts, asked, ‘What is it, Adam?’
‘Something you said just now put me in mind of the tramp. Ever since that night we encountered him I’ve been conscious about something in his speech. There’s a trace of an accent, and the way he phrases things sometimes isn’t local. I admit it’s barely noticeable, but once I spotted it, I’ve been trying to place where he’s from, and now I think I’ve worked it out.’
Like falling dominoes, my thoughts collided, sending me from one aspect of the man to another. It wasn’t only his accent, or his manner of speech, but the distinctive appearance of the knife he had brandished at Lewis that convinced me I wasn’t wrong
. I shook my head in surprise at where my thoughts had led me.
Eve took my hand as I closed the door. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘This is pure speculation, with very little to back it up, but I may know where the tramp hails from, or where he’s spent a lot of time. And I can also guess how he came by those terrible injuries on his back.’
‘I’ve had experience of your speculation before, and it can be surprisingly accurate. Run it past me, and I’ll give you my opinion.’
I explained the first part, which took Eve by surprise. ‘American?’ She looked and sounded less than convinced. ‘How do you come by that idea?’
‘The first time we met him, almost the first thing he said was, “I was sent here, I guess. Yes, sir, that’s correct.” Do you remember?’
‘I do; what of it?’
‘The wording is more American than English. The “sir” for one thing. He also called you ma’am, which no Englishman would do. Then this afternoon, he told Lewis, “I guess it’s time you left”. Someone from around here would say I think, rather than I guess.’
‘That’s only a minute scrap of evidence. Have you anything else with which to convince the jury?’
‘Yes, there was the knife he brandished at Lewis. I recognized it immediately, but because there was so much going on, I failed to grasp the significance. It’s known as a Ka-Bar, and they have been carried by American soldiers since the Second World War.’
‘Are you certain that was what it was?’
‘Yes, I’ve seen a few on my travels.’
‘OK, so the tramp was carrying an American army knife. I still don’t see how that explains the marks on his back.’
‘Think back a few years, Evie. What’s been the major conflict American troops have been involved in over the past fifteen years?’
‘You’re talking about the Vietnam War?’
‘Exactly, and when I was working in the States I heard some terrible stories about the way the North Vietnamese treated prisoners. If he was captured and tortured, that would be the most likely cause of those injuries. It might also explain why he can’t remember things like his own name.’