Out Comes the Evil

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Out Comes the Evil Page 13

by Stella Cameron


  Hugh held up a hand. ‘I know, who would expect someone like that to know? Apparently the media have people listening in on emergency broadcasts of any kind. That’s how he knew to come to the Dog in the first place. The call about Alex came in while he was trying to be subtle but grilling me about what’s happened in Folly – to Pamela.’

  ‘He just came in and started asking questions?’ Alex said. ‘Did he think you’d know everything and tell him every detail for some reason?’

  Tony rubbed the back of her neck. ‘It’s their job, love. They get paid for digging out stories and if they have to be obnoxious I suppose it’s part of what they’re paid for.’

  The trust with which she looked at him did some interesting things to a heart he used to think was partly frozen. ‘We don’t want anymore open poking around than we can help. These people get in the way.’

  A glance at Hugh showed his curiosity at Alex’s remarks.

  He cleared his throat and moved to the bottom of the bed. ‘That’s why I came as soon as we had our reporter tucked up in one of the rooms at the inn. He said some things I think you’d like to know, even if only to file away.’

  Their reputation as self-appointed sleuths on their winter adventures had obviously reached Hugh, which, naturally, they would.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Alex said. ‘I need to use the lavatory.’

  ‘I’ll call a nurse,’ Hugh said.

  ‘That’s not necessary. All I need is a hand to the door. I’ll be fine – I’ve got to be if I want to get out of here by morning.’ Carefully, she moved the sheet aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  Tony stood behind her and firmly tied her gown shut. He got her safely to her destination and she gave him a bright smile – with raised eyebrows – as she shut the door.

  ‘You two are pretty close,’ Hugh said, amusement in his eyes and a quirky smile in place.

  ‘Is there anything you’d like to say that might upset her?’ Tony said, ignoring the personal remark.

  ‘I don’t think so. It’s all about Pamela and what could be a heap of scuttlebutt – I don’t know what to think.’

  The toilet flushed and water ran in a sink as Alex must be doing her best to wash her hands. She opened the door, hopping, and grasped Tony’s arm. ‘I could go home. Really, I feel great. Sore in places but OK. Can I get out now, do you think?’ She looked as if she expected him to spirit her away. ‘You know the longer you’re in a hospital the more likely you are to get some deadly bug.’

  He laughed. With an arm under her elbow, supporting her by the wrist, he guided her back to the bed, pulled up the pillows and made her lean against them while he replaced the sheet. ‘I promise we’ll probably be away from here just as soon as someone with the right papers and a pen comes to kick you out.’

  The corners of her mouth turned down. ‘What do you know, Hugh?’

  ‘This is weird,’ he said and walked to the window to look out at a night sky. ‘The reporter – his name is Patrick Guest from a Gloucester paper – waited for the bar to empty out. The major and Leonard Derwinter were tucked on a window seat with their heads together, but that was all.’

  ‘Not Heather Derwinter, though?’ Alex said. ‘She doesn’t have enough to do. It makes her nosy.’

  ‘Not Heather,’ Hugh said. ‘And they couldn’t hear what we were saying. Guest was all sweetness and light, but he was trying to ask questions without giving anything away. I don’t think he’s too good at assessing others. I was the barman and probably a bit thick. He wanted to know if Pamela had boyfriends.’

  ‘Where would that come from?’ Tony said. ‘She’s … she was a widow and I don’t see how he’d pick up anything from emergency radios that would lead him in that direction.’

  ‘I said I didn’t know.’

  ‘Good for you,’ Alex said approvingly. ‘Nosy parker. He’s adding two and two—’

  ‘And coming up with four,’ Tony said. ‘But she wasn’t running around with lots of people. Not as far as I know.’

  Alex’s secret smile made him bring his face level with hers. ‘What’s that for?’

  A shrug didn’t feel so good and she sucked in a breath before telling him, ‘You’re not the man people go to with so-called Folly facts, or dreamed up rubbish, Tony. I don’t think Pamela had lots of men in her life, but she liked their company and she was very … feminine. But what business is that of anyone else?’

  ‘If someone she was seeing killed her, it’s the business of quite a few,’ Hugh said. ‘This Guest chappie never took his eyes off my face when he said he’d a tip that Pamela Gibbon could have been pregnant when she died.’

  TWENTY

  The paper was thin, faintly watermarked with shadows of small flowers, and smelled of rosewater. It slipped easily from the matching envelope pushed through the letterbox in the middle of the night.

  My friend, the letter began.

  Dread made it hard to read, dread and fury.

  The little fool. She must learn never to speak or write again. Teaching that lesson would be a pleasure.

  The letter went on:

  I loved Pamela as much as you did (those words were paralyzing), in my way, and I know how sharp must be your pain, how dark your despair. My own heart is broken. When I wake I think it’s been a dream and she will be there if I call her. I have rung her home phone but now they’ve even taken her message away. Did they want to scrub it all clean as if she were never with us?

  It is so hard to lose Pamela. There will never be another like her. I expect every distant rider to be her. Then the horse grows closer with a stranger on its back and I run away to cry.

  You know I will always be here when you want a friend. You can share your feelings with me whenever and wherever you please. Perhaps we can help unravel this most dreadful crime against a sweet one.

  Never hesitate to come to me.

  The paper crumpled and burned easily in the fireplace.

  Damn her. She wouldn’t have long to wait for that visit.

  TWENTY-ONE

  When Alex walked into the bar, the sight of O’Reilly and Lamb sitting in the grey light of early morning made her want to order them out, to tell them a woman was entitled to some privacy, particularly when she’d had such a horrible time.

  ‘How did you get in here?’ She flipped on lights, including the fairy lights strung along the roofline outside. They made her feel better.

  ‘We’re staying here,’ Lamb said, but softly enough as he took in a crutch, a surgical boot, one arm in a sling. She couldn’t manage the crutch very well anyway. Two had been impossible with her shoulder injury, but it had been this or a wheelchair and that wasn’t happening.

  ‘Turn that coffee pot on,’ Alex said. ‘It’s all ready. There are some of yesterday’s pastries but they won’t be too bad.’ She was starving.

  Lamb followed her orders and she caught the sparkle in Dan O’Reilly’s eyes. Nice of him to find this amusing.

  ‘Sit down,’ he told her, holding a chair out for her at the Burke sisters’ table. ‘We’ll get the fire going.’

  ‘Hugh will be right in once he’s parked. He’ll do that.’ She didn’t say Tony was also parking, having dropped her at the door. Let them all deal with their dislike of each other. What would be annoying would be the arrival of the reporter. She hoped he was a late sleeper.

  Alex sat down.

  ‘You’ve had an accident,’ Dan said. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You can see what happened,’ she said but didn’t feel proud of snapping.

  ‘Yes, but how? You’ve come from a hospital, haven’t you?’

  ‘I fell and yes, I had to go to the hospital. I’ve got a cracked clavicle and a sprained ankle. Doesn’t feel very good but I’ll manage.’

  He sat with his chair turned so he could see her. ‘Of course it doesn’t feel good. I’m sorry.’

  His unblinking regard made her uncomfortable. She looked at her watch. ‘Five thirty. I’m going to need some
relief staff today. We start serving breakfast for guests at seven.’

  ‘That’s just us and it doesn’t matter. So forget that.’

  She didn’t mention Patrick Guest from the Gloucester newspaper.

  Tony came into the bar with Hugh. She almost grinned at the irritation on Tony’s face, then saw a mirrored expression from Dan and covered the lower half of her face until the bubble in her throat came under control. If she wasn’t careful she’d get hysterical and ruin her reputation!

  Bill Lamb came with coffee and a plate of pastries that turned her stomach.

  ‘She takes cream,’ Tony said and the look Bill gave him should have felled most people.

  Tony had the grace to get the cream himself, and manage to bring two more mugs of coffee. He went back for another two and gave one to Hugh.

  ‘I could eat cardboard,’ Bill said, sinking his teeth into an iced bun that required some tugging with the teeth to release a bite.

  Hugh got the fire going, stood and smacked his palms together.

  ‘Isn’t this cozy,’ Tony said, sitting beside Alex. ‘We should do it more often.’

  Dan grinned at him and turned his attention to Hugh who was on his mobile, calling extra staff to come in early.

  ‘Must have been some fall,’ Dan said and he wasn’t visibly amused anymore. ‘Down some stairs, perhaps?’

  ‘Yes.’ This was a subject that must be downplayed, difficult as that might me. ‘Missed the edge of a step and bam, I was surprised to haul myself up and not be dead.’

  The company laughed.

  ‘But you didn’t do it here,’ Dan said. ‘I’d have heard. I’m right near the stairs.’

  ‘At my house,’ Tony said without looking at Alex.

  She was grateful but she also caught the satisfaction with which Tony delivered his bail out. He liked laying claim to her – OK, she rather liked it, too.

  Hugh’s stare was something she felt. He frowned and she realized Lily must have told him she’d heard from Alex after she was injured and before she arrived at Tony’s house. She gave Hugh a hard look and he nodded slightly.

  ‘What do any of you know about Jay Gibbon? Did he visit Pamela? Did you all know him?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Never saw him before he came in here that night,’ Alex said and the others agreed. ‘Which doesn’t mean he didn’t visit Pamela, or that she might not have gone to see him. Is he her next of kin, Dan?’

  ‘We’re still working on that.’

  He might as well have said, And I wouldn’t tell you anyway. Alex kept her attention on the flames now curling over the blackened chimney breast.

  ‘Surely Pamela had family somewhere,’ Hugh said.

  Bill’s expression left no doubt that he didn’t welcome another civilian sticking his spoon into the official pot.

  ‘Eventually we’ll be able to talk about it,’ Dan said. ‘We’re going to be working in the lovely parish hall again. Too bad spring can’t make up its mind. That place is parky. And we’ll have to beg the heavens to keep its rain away from the holes in the roof.’

  Bill gave a derisive snort.

  ‘All part of the job, though,’ Hugh said. ‘We should be able to look after you better, though. I’ll look into some portable heaters – and buckets.’ His smile was definitely a bone crusher although the two detectives weren’t enamored. ‘We’ll also make sure you get plenty of coffee and fresh snacks. Just call if you need anything we don’t think of.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Dan said. ‘We’ll provide a donations pot.’

  Alex barely stopped herself from saying she’d provide a bill. ‘Have you been hearing the rumors running around?’

  ‘What rumors? About what?’

  Tony leaned toward Dan and asked in a stage whisper, ‘Pamela Gibbon, was she pregnant when she died?’

  The fire got a vigorous poking from Hugh.

  The detectives’ faces closed, but not before they gave each other an irritated glance.

  ‘Where did you hear that?’ Bill took the lead this time.

  ‘Nowhere in particular.’ Tony drank more coffee. ‘But it’s likely to gather steam if we can’t snuff it out.’

  ‘You know where you heard it,’ Dan said flatly. ‘But I’ll know all about that soon enough. And you’d better keep your mouths shut, and shut up any other gossipmongers because that is just gossip. The post-mortem report isn’t in. They’ve been backed up with work.’

  Alex’s often too creative mind saw a flash image of rows and rows of white-draped bodies on gurneys. She collected herself. ‘How many murders have there been in the area … in the last few days?’

  Dan shook his head, raised one brow and said, ‘Did you know Jay Gibbon is staying in Pamela’s house? Moved in last night.’

  Confused glances followed – and silence.

  ‘He didn’t want to stay here any longer, not with Bill and me in residence. There didn’t seem to be any reason why he shouldn’t be at Cedric Chase, not since he was the stepson and the solicitor had no difficulty with it. He has a very complete inventory of the house contents. Believe it or not, it was Harry Stroud’s idea. That man never holds back from joining a conversation.’

  Swallowing with difficulty, Alex tried to interpret reactions around the table. Mostly they were blank except for Bill Lamb who was also studying faces with his unusual guileless blue eyes.

  ‘I’m surprised you’re finished with the house,’ Tony said finally and wandered off to refill his coffee.

  ‘We’ve taken away what we need,’ Dan said. ‘The housekeeper had been going in and out since Mrs Gibbon left. There was already a lot disturbed, and we feel confident we’ve done a very good job.’

  ‘Why would he stay here at all?’ Hugh said.

  He got a sideways flick of the eyes from Dan that suggested he’d forgotten the other man was there. ‘Think about it. You’ll come up with some reasons.’

  Alex was uncomfortable and growing short-tempered. ‘I’ve got work to do,’ she said. ‘I’ll be in the kitchen.’

  ‘No you won’t,’ Tony said mildly. ‘You could have a concussion.’

  ‘I rounded up plenty of help.’ Hugh took the carafe Tony had been holding and added to Alex’s and his own mug. ‘They’ll start arriving soon.’

  His phone ringing had Tony patting pockets in various parts of his clothing until he located the mobile. He answered and grew very still.

  ‘Yes, Reverend,’ he said after a few seconds. ‘I’m on my way. No, no, never second guess a decision like that.’

  TWENTY-TWO

  O’Reilly studied Alex with interest. As soon as Tony had more or less sprinted from the building, she shifted in her chair as if she wanted to be anywhere but in her own bar. When she caught his eye she gave him an unconvincing little smile. ‘Mystery after mystery.’ The dismissive lightness didn’t come off.

  ‘Hugh, could you help me upstairs? I need to lie down. Dan, sorry to burden you, but when staff starts coming in, please explain I’m wiped out and I said to carry on. They all know what they need to do.’

  Bill waited long enough for Hugh and Alex to be out of sight and leaned close to Dan. ‘We need to see where Harrison’s gone.’

  ‘We will. Stand by to follow when Hugh leaves. Ms Duggins is probably phoning Harrison as we speak. Hugh will go to help out with whatever’s going on.’ Flames in the fire flickered lower and he automatically got up to place more logs in the grate. He turned and closed his eyes, listening. ‘Is that a vehicle coming this way?’

  Bill went to kneel on one side of a window seat, behind a curtain, and took a cautious look. ‘Not sure if it’s coming here, but it’s a powerful engine.’

  ‘See if we can get Harrison’s position from his mobile.’

  ‘You’ve got it.’ Bill paused, flattened to the wall with the curtain held open a fraction. ‘Big, burgundy Mercedes. That’s Doc James’ car. He’s driving around the back of the pub.’

  ‘They don’t get medals for subtlety,’ Dan said.
<
br />   Bill was already talking to the station urgently about Tony’s whereabouts.

  The Reverend Ivor Davis ran into the middle of the narrow road where he’d been waiting for Tony. ‘Please hurry. I shouldn’t have left but I was afraid you wouldn’t find me.’

  Ivor Davis stood six and a half feet tall and was built like a discus thrower, all long, lean muscle – with the upper body of a rower. Under one arm, a ginger long-haired dachshund flopped in a sack-of-potatoes position.

  ‘This way.’ Around the next leftward bend in the road, the vicar took off up a lane anyone could be forgiven for missing. Larches had grown so thick and tall they all but camouflaged the overgrown little path.

  Ivor had said it was some sort of medical emergency and Tony had already asked his father to stand by.

  He had a sudden revelation. ‘We’re coming in at the back,’ he said. ‘Radhika rents a little place up here.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ivor said. ‘Keep with me.’ He reached a point where they could see a one-story, gray stone cottage not much bigger than a small barn.

  ‘Come on.’ Ivor veered from the small road that came in from a lane at the far side of the property and which people would use to go to the cottage, and crashed through a waist-high tangle of woodland shrubs and weeds. The pungent scent of dog’s mercury blooms assaulted the nose.

  ‘Tell me something,’ Tony shouted, his gut in knots.

  ‘Over there.’ Ivor pointed.

  At first Tony didn’t know what he was pointing at, then he saw a little heap among the weeds at the base of a tree. As he dashed closer, there were pieces of bright silk poking out beneath a black coat draped on top.

  ‘Good God.’ He reached what he knew was Radhika in a couple of strides and dropped down beside her. The silk scarf had dropped from her hair which lay in great twisted lengths. ‘Radhika?’ He felt her neck, found a pulse and dropped his chin onto his chest for a moment of relief.

  ‘I think she’s been beaten,’ Ivor said, coming to crouch beside Tony. He put the dog down and pulled back the collar of his own black raincoat. ‘She wouldn’t speak at first. Then she said she only wanted you. She said no one else but you.’

 

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