Gifthorse: The next instalment of the riveting Marnie Walker series

by Leo McNeir

  “You got up the track all right?” she asked.

  “No probs. Donovan’s snow chains are really good. Want a coffee?”

  “Not just now. I’m going up to the school to see Margaret shortly. I’ll get one there.”

  Anne hung up her jacket. “Margaret?”

  “She wants a chat. It’s all very mysterious.”

  Anne pulled on her moccasins and crossed to the kitchen area. Marnie watched her filling the kettle.

  “Anne, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Is everything all right between you and Donovan?”

  Anne considered the question and quickly understood what lay behind it.

  “We’re fine. Donovan stayed in the cottage for a reason.”

  “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “That’s okay. He thought the police could turn up at any time, so he stayed across the way to underline the impression that he was just a friend of Ralph’s. He thought discretion was the best policy.”

  “That makes sense,” said Marnie.

  “Mm …” Anne sounded non-committal.

  “You’re not convinced?”

  “I’ve got no problem with him staying at the cottage. It’s just, I’m not sure how wise it is to leave so soon after we found Mr Meadows’ body.”

  “As long as the police regard his death as an accident, I’m sure that’s okay.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way,” said Anne.

  *

  Margaret Giles apologised in advance for the coffee as Marnie took her seat in the head’s office. She waved the apology aside.

  “I half expected to find Valerie here, Margaret, despite what you said on the phone.”

  Margaret set down two cups on the low table and sat opposite Marnie.

  “No. I went to see her at home before coming in. She’s still very shaken after what happened.”

  “I’m intrigued.” Marnie took a sip. “The coffee’s fine, by the way.”

  “You’re too generous.”

  “So, what happened?”

  Margaret took a deep breath. “Well, I had that policeman here, you know the one, Marnie.”

  Marnie shook her head. “No. I don’t know the uniformed officers.”

  “You do know the one I mean, Marnie, a sergeant, nice manner, rather avuncular … Marriner.”

  Marnie sat up so quickly she almost spilt her coffee. “Marriner? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, and he had that nice young woman with him, Lamb.”

  “Cathy Lamb?”

  “That’s her. Why are you so shocked, Marnie?”

  Marnie placed the cup back on the table. “They’re CID officers, detectives.”

  “I don’t see why –”

  “This can only mean they’re treating the death as suspicious, not an accident.”

  Margaret gasped. “I didn’t realise …”

  The two women sat in silence for some moments, then Marnie remembered her original question.

  “What was it that shocked Valerie so much?”

  Margaret took a moment to compose herself before replying.

  “We were standing in here talking, the four of us, Valerie and myself plus the two detectives. Someone knocked at the door and looked in. Marnie, even now I can feel goose-bumps all over. It was bizarre.”

  “Who was it?”

  “It was the face of Mr Meadows.”

  Marnie felt the colour drain from her face. “My God …”

  “The likeness was uncanny. I thought Valerie was going to pass out.”

  “Did Mr Meadows have a twin?”

  “Not exactly, but the resemblance was plain to see. The police had made enquiries with the family. They needed a formal identification of the body. His younger brother came here and just turned up in my office, unannounced.”

  “And then?”

  “The police took him off to do the identification, and I took Valerie home.”

  “It seems to be the season for passing out.”

  “What do you mean?” Margaret asked.

  Marnie explained about Donovan’s second Christmas, Ben’s singing and Maurice Dekker’s fainting.

  “This is a strange season, Marnie. It makes you wonder what’s going to happen next.”

  *

  Back at Glebe Farm Marnie met Anne coming out of cottage number three. She had been to check it out and had found everything in order. Anne locked the front door, and they walked to the office barn together.

  “What did Margaret have to say?” Anne asked. “If it’s not a secret.”

  Marnie explained about the unexpected arrival of Mr Meadows’ brother and Valerie’s reaction.

  “Blimey, what a shocker! Typical over-reaction of Valerie Paxton, of course.”

  “Even so,” said Marnie, “Can’t say I blame her. She literally thought she’d seen a ghost.”

  Settled in the office barn, Marnie asked about the cottage.

  “It’s uncanny,” said Anne.

  Uncanny, Marnie thought, the second time she had heard the word that morning.

  “What is?”

  “I checked the place from top to bottom,” Anne said. “Everything was just as you’d expect to find it.”

  “Doesn’t strike me as uncanny.”

  “But, Marnie, the place was unbelievably tidy. The tree was back outside on the patio and not a single needle showed it had even been in the house.”

  “Knowing Donovan, you find that surprising, Anne?”

  Anne hung up the cottage keys on their hook and turned to face Marnie across the room.

  “It was as if Donovan had never been there. Like he was a ghost.”

  Chapter 27

  Interview

  On Monday morning Detective Constable Cathy Lamb took one look at the Glebe Farm field track and gave up. There seemed to be some kind of pathway marked out with lanterns attached to poles, but she feared she would need more than the capabilities of her Vauxhall Cavalier to be tempted down the slope.

  She pulled out her mobile and dialled Marnie’s office. It rang twice before she heard Anne’s voice on the line.

  This is Walker and Co. I’m sorry we can’t take your call at the moment. Please leave a message and we’ll contact you as soon as possible. Thank you for calling.

  Lamb was about to leave a message, when she noticed a second number in her notebook. She pressed the buttons.

  “Ralph Lombard.”

  “Good morning, professor, this is Cathy Lamb. I’m trying to get in touch with Marnie Walker, well all of you really. I need to ask some questions.”

  “Marnie’s at a meeting, I’m afraid, and Anne’s at college. I’m the only one here.”

  “Do you know when they’ll be back?”

  “It rather depends on the weather.”

  “Does Marnie have a mobile?”

  “Yes, but she won’t want to be interrupted unless it’s very urgent. She has three meetings with clients today.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “I think she’ll be here most of the day.”

  “Good. And Anne?”

  “The same, I think.”

  “That should be okay. I’ll come in the –”

  “Did you say you wanted to talk to all of us?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be in Oxford tomorrow.”

  Lamb took a deep breath. “Could you postpone your visit? This is rather important.”

  “I’m chairing an international symposium, delegates from all over the world. Postponement is not an option, I’m afraid.”

  Ralph was about to suggest that Lamb might call back at tea-time when she muttered an abrupt, I’ll get back to you and hung up.

  *

  Ralph’s next call came later that morning. He was surprised to hear Marnie on the line.

  “Everything okay, Ralph?”

  “All rather quiet on the Knightly front. Cathy Lamb rang, wants to ask us some questions.”

  “When’s she comi
ng?”

  “Going to ring back. I told her you were out all day.”

  “That’s why I’m phoning. Change of plan. My third meeting’s been called off. The Seagroves have a sick child at home, so I’m just dropping the designs in on them.”

  “You’re coming back, then?”

  “As soon as I’ve collected Anne from college. She’s got stuff she can do at home, so we’ll be with you pretty soon.”

  *

  DS Marriner was not having a good morning. The pathologist’s report on Mr Meadows was inconclusive: he had suffered a major blow to the head that could have been the cause of death. On the other hand the amount of water found in his lungs was consistent with death by drowning. When pressed, the pathologist was unable to be certain which was the more likely scenario.

  Meadows had entered the water where the ice was thin and had either been deliberately struck from behind or had accidentally slipped and hit his head on the stone edge of the bank.

  Cathy Lamb was sitting opposite Marriner in his office.

  “Or perhaps he was pushed and hit his head as he fell,” she suggested.

  Lamb was another reason why Marriner was not happy that morning. She had allowed herself to be fobbed off by Professor Lombard when she should have been taking statements. He had been in the force for over twenty years and was regarded as old school. That meant he operated under the assumption that police work, especially where the CID was concerned, took priority over everything else.

  “Unlikely,” he said. “It’s too haphazard. If it wasn’t an accident, you wouldn’t just give him a shove and hope for the best. You’d help him on his way.”

  Lamb would normally have argued her corner, but she thought better of it. The less she said, the better, when he was in that mood. And the sergeant did have a point.

  “Ever driven a Land Rover?” he asked.

  “No, sarge.”

  “Well today’s your big chance. I’ve got one booked for this afternoon. We’re going to make a few calls, and that will be including Glebe Farm.”

  *

  By the time they approached Knightly St John, Lamb had got the hang of driving the Land Rover. At first sight, it had frankly scared her. It felt like a small truck with its high driving position and the extent of the bodywork around her. After a few miles on the road, she began to appreciate its docility and surefootedness. Even the impacted ice and snow in the village high street did not daunt her, and they floated over it with unwavering smoothness.

  “D’you mind me asking why we’re going to Glebe Farm, sarge? We know the people we want to interview won’t be there.”

  “We’re making a point, Cathy. We don’t need to ask permission to turn up. And we can talk to the prof.”

  Lamb turned in at the field gate, selected low ratio and followed the flight-path. At first tensed-up, she soon relaxed as the chunky tyres bit into the snow.

  “How’s it going?” Marriner asked.

  Lamb smiled. “Piece o’ cake.”

  They were rolling to a halt in their regular parking space in the courtyard when they had their first surprise. The office barn door opened and Anne came out carrying a shoulder-bag. Seeing the police vehicle, she waved in recognition, walking over as the officers climbed out.

  “Hi!” She patted the bag. “If I’d known you were coming I’d have put the lanterns on earlier.”

  “It’s not dark,” said Lamb.

  “Soon will be. Looks more welcoming. Tell Marnie to put the kettle on. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Anne set off up the track, reaching into the bag for the first nightlight. For two seconds Lamb was pleased that normal friendly relations had been re-established with Glebe Farm. Then she saw the look on Marriner’s face.

  “What’s up, sarge?”

  Marriner shook his head. “What are they playing at?” he murmured.

  “They’re back early, is all.”

  Inside the office, Marnie’s greeting was no less warm than Anne’s had been. She immediately offered tea and phoned Ralph on Thyrsis to join them. Cups were steaming and biscuits were being handed round by the time Anne and Ralph converged on the office barn. Only Marriner seemed less amiable than usual.

  “I don’t want to begin on a sour note,” he began, looking at Marnie, “but why are you here?”

  Marnie’s expression was bewildered. “I work here.”

  “My colleague was told you’d be out all day, you and Anne.”

  Marnie explained about the change of plans. Ralph apologised that he had not been quick enough to suggest to Lamb that she might call by in the late afternoon. It was all very polite and reasonable, but Marnie knew an undercurrent of distrust had been created.

  Marriner asked them each to account for their movements on Thursday evening. Anne told him how she first found Poppy acting strangely, and Ralph picked up the narrative from there.

  “Which of you actually found the body?” Marriner asked.

  Marnie, Ralph and Anne looked at each other.

  “It wasn’t quite like that,” said Ralph. “When we reached the bridge, the horse was standing on the towpath near where Mr Meadows had fallen in the canal, and Ben was kneeling down looking into the water. It was a friend of ours who reached them first.”

  “Who was that?” Marriner asked.

  Anne opened her mouth to speak, but Ralph interjected.

  “Nikolaus Smith.”

  “Can you spell that first name, please.” Lamb was taking notes.

  Ralph did so. Anne kept her eyes lowered. Marnie stood and offered more biscuits.

  “Nikolaus brought these biscuits,” Marnie said. “They’re from Germany. He wanted to share them with us.”

  “They’re very good,” said Marriner. “And where is he now?”

  “He’s gone back to London,” said Ralph.

  “Why’s that?”

  “He’s a student there, had to get back to his course.”

  Marriner turned to look at Lamb. “He doesn’t appear to have made a statement.”

  Lamb shook her head. “No, sarge.”

  “We’ll need to get in touch with your Mr Smith. Can you give us an address?”

  The question was met with silence. Anne, who had visited Donovan’s house near the canal at Uxbridge, knew he would hate anyone knowing where he lived, especially the police. Marnie did not personally have a record of his address and feared she was about to be labelled as unhelpful again. Ralph gave the answer.

  “This may be hard to believe, but I don’t think we know where he stays when he’s in London.”

  “Even though he’s a friend of yours?” said Marriner.

  “The thing is, he could be in digs or in a hall of residence. The family home is in Germany, you see.”

  “So how do you keep in touch?”

  They were in a corner, and Anne decided to intervene.

  “I think I’ve got a mobile number somewhere.”

  “Then perhaps you’d give it to us, Anne.”

  She hesitated. “I jotted it in a notebook, not sure which one. I’ll go and look if you like.” She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, it’ll be in my locker at college.”

  Marriner narrowed his eyes. “Not on your speed-dial?”

  Anne shrugged. “I don’t call him very often.”

  “Of course,” said Marriner, “he’s a friend of yours, isn’t he, professor?”

  “We’re family friends from way back.”

  “But you don’t have his number stored in your mobile?”

  Marnie laughed. “Sorry. It’s just, well, Ralph barely knows how to switch it on.”

  “Rather a technophobe, I’m afraid,” Ralph said.

  Marriner turned back to Anne. “Tomorrow, without fail.” There was no mistaking the tone.

  Anne nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Marriner consulted his own notebook. “What do you know about the incident at the school gate? I believe you were there, Anne.”

  Anne looked blank.
“Incident?”

  “Involving Mr Meadows, the horse, Ben and his mother? You witnessed what happened.”

  “Oh, that. It was partly my fault,” Anne said.

  “How was it your fault?”

  “Poppy moved to get out of the way when Ronny came to stand close beside me. We were on the pavement with the mothers waiting at the gate and it was all very congested. Mr Meadows ushered Willow – that’s Ben’s mum – away, and Ben got upset at seeing her treated like that.”

  “Did he threaten Mr Meadows?”

  “No.”

  “We have a reliable witness who said he made a threatening remark.”

  “Mr Marriner,” Marnie said, “Ben’s a little boy of ten. Mr Meadows was a grown man.”

  “I’ve heard the boy described as strong for his age, and he seems to be able to control a rather large horse.”

  “Even so,” Marnie insisted, “he is just a child.”

  Marriner referred back to his notes. “Was anyone else present when you found the body that evening?”

  “No,” said Marnie.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Positive.”

  Chapter 28

  Accusations

  On Tuesday morning the arrival of Marriner and Lamb at the school coincided with the end of morning assembly. They reached the secretary’s office to find Margaret Giles talking with Valerie Paxton. The atmosphere was polite and professional, but the detectives could tell there was no warmth in the relationship.

  “I hope we haven’t come at an inconvenient time,” said Marriner. His tone conveyed the clear message that this was not his prime concern. “We have a few further questions for you.”

  “Then you’d better come in,” said Margaret.

  Valerie stood up. “Will you be wanting coffee?” Without waiting for an answer, she walked towards the door.

  Marriner stepped aside to let Valerie pass. “Mrs Giles, I wanted to ask you about the threat made by Ben Haycroft to Mr Meadows at the time of the horse incident at the school gate.”

  Margaret turned in the doorway to her office. “Threat?”

  “That’s right. I believe you witnessed what took place.”