by Leo McNeir
“I was there, yes, but I don’t think an actual threat was made.”
From behind them, the detectives heard an intake of breath. Valerie had stopped on her way out, holding the kettle. Marriner turned to look at her.
“Was there something, Mrs Paxton?”
“Of course it was a threat. Everyone knows that boy threatened his teacher in front of everybody.”
“You were there?” Marriner asked.
“Yes, I was.”
Margaret looked at Valerie. “I seem to recall you arrived shortly after what was said, Valerie.”
“Did you in fact hear a threat being made, Mrs Paxton?” said Marriner.
“Well, I heard the boy’s tone of voice. The body language was clear.”
“Valerie,” said Margaret, “I think you should be careful about making unfounded accusations.”
“But you were there, Mrs Giles. You know what the boy said.”
“His name is Ben, Valerie. Please don’t keep calling him the boy.”
“But you were there, Mrs Giles,” said Marriner, repeating Valerie’s words. “You heard what the … what Ben said.”
“Yes, I was and I did, and I think it’s wrong to accuse him of making a threat.”
“But those were your very words, Mrs Giles.” Valerie glared at her. “I heard you say that to Mrs Truscott the other day. You said Ben threatened Mr Meadows and he backed down.”
“Valerie! That was a private meeting. You were listening at the door?”
“Whatever it was, Mrs Giles,” said Marriner, “is that what you said? I can check it out.”
Margaret’s expression froze. “I feel ashamed to say that I believe I did say that to Mrs Truscott – she’s a school inspector. On mature reflection, I think I was mistaken.”
“A threat is still a threat, Mrs Giles,” said Marriner.
“And a ten year-old boy is still a child, sergeant Marriner.”
*
Marnie looked up from leafing through a catalogue of furnishing fabrics as Anne descended the wall-ladder from her attic. She was wearing boots and a thick jumper, typical college-day clothes.
“You really are going in?” said Marnie.
“The devil is in the detail,” Anne replied with a resigned expression.
“Meaning?”
“If I phone Marriner from the college refectory with Donovan’s number, he’ll have authentic background noise.”
Marnie smiled. “Makes sense. Give me two minutes and I’ll run you up to the bus stop.”
“No need, Marnie. I can walk. I’ve got plenty of time.”
“But –”
“Seriously. I’ll be glad of the exercise, honest. I’m perfectly happy.”
“You don’t look perfectly happy.”
Anne screwed up her face. “It’s just, I feel I’m kind of betraying Donovan. He’ll hate the idea of me passing his number on to anyone, especially the police. You know how private he is.”
“Anne, he has nothing to hide. They just want a statement, that’s all.”
“Even so.”
*
Margaret Giles hoped that a hot cup of tea would calm everyone down. It had worked wonders for the propagation of the British empire, and she hoped it might help restore a positive atmosphere with the police. On the other hand, she regretted the request by DS Marriner that Valerie Paxton should remain in the room.
Marriner invited Margaret to go over the incident in detail once again, and Valerie sat forward in her seat, watching the head teacher like a fox waiting to pounce on a hen.
“For some reason that I couldn’t see, Poppy moved sideways on the pavement –”
“The horse was on the pavement?” Marriner interjected.
“You know she was, sergeant. We’ve been over all this before.” Margaret realised she was sounding like a school-ma’am. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten.”
“No. But it just struck me as odd that a horse should be –”
“Poppy came to meet Ben most afternoons, sergeant. She’s a docile creature and has never caused any difficulties in the past.”
Valerie opened her mouth to speak, but Margaret silenced her with a look.
“Go on,” said Marriner.
“Something – or someone – must have caused her to step sideways, which meant the mothers waiting by the gate were … how can I put it? They were somewhat jostled by her. There was no panic, though space is rather confined by the safety barrier just there. The mothers calmly moved out of her way.”
“Were you worried when you saw that, Mrs Giles?”
“No, but I was a little concerned in case Poppy trod on someone’s foot. She’s a large animal and –”
“Had no right to be there in the first place,” Valerie blurted out.
“Please, Valerie, let me give my account without interruption. Otherwise we’ll be here all day.”
Valerie pursed her lips and scowled but remained silent.
Marriner said, “What I want you to recall is what was said by Mr Meadows and the boy … Ben.”
“To be honest, I couldn’t exactly hear every word. By his tone, Mr Meadows was admonishing Willow, telling her to keep the horse away. He’d taken hold of her arm and was, I’d have to say, manhandling her. I then heard Ben telling him to let go of his mother and never to touch her again. It was all over in a few seconds.”
“As an experienced head teacher, Mrs Giles, do you think that was normal behaviour for a boy towards a teacher?”
“I sincerely hope it was not normal, but then the situation wasn’t normal, either. Ben has a close relationship with his mother for obvious reasons, and in those circumstances I’m not surprised he felt protective towards her.”
“So he made a threat?” said Marriner.
“I think he spoke a little unwisely, but that is not uncommon in children.”
“And you don’t think he would’ve followed up his words with action?”
“I have no reason to believe he would do anything further.”
Valerie intervened. “Aren’t you rather forgetting he has a history of violence, Mrs Giles?”
Margaret looked shocked. “What do you mean?”
“The time you sent for him and his mother after he hit Geoffrey in the face and gave him a bleeding nose and a black eye, of course.”
Marriner sat forward in his chair. “When was that?”
“Not two weeks ago,” said Valerie.
“That has nothing to do with this matter,” Margaret insisted.
Marriner looked sceptical. “Maybe not, Mrs Giles, but –”
“There was an element of self-defence in that incident. Ben may have over-reacted, but it was understandable in the circumstances.”
“You’re not condoning what he did?” Marriner said.
“Not at all. I made it clear to him that any form of violent behaviour is unacceptable, but he was subjected to extreme provocation.”
“Even so, Mrs Giles, it might indicate something about his attitude.”
Margaret shook her head. “Ben is a decent boy, sergeant, who’s been well brought up by his mother.”
Valerie snorted. “Well brought up? They’re pagans. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a witch or a satanist.”
“Valerie! What are you saying?”
Marriner looked bewildered. “Why do you say that, Mrs Paxton?”
“The boy told Mrs Giles he hated God, said He was weird and horrible.”
Margaret looked stunned. “You were listening at the door.”
“So?” Valerie looked defiant. “What if I was?”
*
Anne found a quiet corner of the college refectory and dialled Donovan’s mobile, fingers crossed that he would take the call. He answered on the third ring.
She explained how Marriner had insisted that she give him Donovan’s phone number. They considered this for a few seconds before Donovan came up with the solution. He would find the number for the police station and tell Marriner h
e would come up to see him the next day. Anne found the station’s number on her own speed-dial from previous encounters.
When Donovan – announcing himself as Nikolaus Smith – rang the police, he was informed that DS Marriner was not in the building. Invited by the duty officer to leave a contact number, he opted instead for a message. He would travel up from London in the morning and go direct to the police station. Donovan apologised for the poor line and disconnected.
*
Marriner and Lamb looked thoughtful as they left the school and carefully crossed the slippery pavement. Reaching the Land Rover, Lamb glanced over at her sergeant.
“So back to Glebe Farm, then?”
“You guessed.”
Before Marriner could open the Land Rover door his mobile rang. He listened, made a few monosyllabic replies and switched off. Lamb watched him expectantly.
“Not Glebe Farm, sarge?”
“Back to the station. The boss wants a meeting before the press conference. We’ll come back here later.”
Marriner climbed in and shut the door. When Lamb was inside she said, “How do we handle this satanism thing, sarge?”
“God knows.”
Lamb flashed a smile. “That’s logical, I suppose.” She turned the key in the ignition.
Marriner stared ahead through the windscreen, ignoring her remark. “Did he fall or was he pushed? Did someone bash his head in first? You know what, Cathy? Until this morning, I was sure this was just an accident.”
“But not now?”
“Too many loose ends to be sure of anything. Typical bloody Glebe Farm scenario.”
“But the satanism doesn’t have anything to do with them, sarge.”
“Satanism. Christ almighty. That Paxton woman takes the biscuit, she really does.”
“So what do we –”
Marriner pointed down the street. Lamb followed his gaze and saw Angela Hemingway emerge from the churchyard gate and advance across the pavement towards her car.
“Give her a toot.”
“What?”
“Toot her, flash your headlights, attract her attention. I don’t want her to drive off.”
“The vicar?”
“Who else? I think I’ve just had divine inspiration.”
*
Marnie was finding it hard to concentrate, which was unusual. Normally she would lose herself in design work and only notice the time when it was too dark to see the drawing board. On that Tuesday morning her thoughts kept straying to Anne, and her dilemma at giving Donovan’s phone number to the police, and of everything surrounding the death of Mr Meadows.
When the phone rang, Marnie was surprised to hear the voice of Angela Hemingway, speaking in hushed tones.
“Sorry to interrupt your work, Marnie. Can you talk?”
Marnie lowered her own voice. “Yes, of course. What is it?”
“I’ve just been speaking with sergeant Marriner and Cathy Lamb. They want me to come with them to see Willow and Ben.”
“Now?”
“No. They’re picking me up late afternoon, about four o’clock.”
“They want you to come with them? That’s rather odd, isn’t it?”
“I know. Marriner wouldn’t say much, but I gather it’s something to do with satanism.”
“With what?”
“That’s what he said. He wants to talk to you, too.”
“About satanism?”
“I think it’s about something else. Can you ask Willow and Ben to be in your office when we come?”
“Okay. Angela, why are we talking in whispers? Where are you?”
“In the churchyard.”
“You think you might be overheard?”
*
The afternoon light was already starting to fade when Willow and Ben reached Marnie’s office as the police Land Rover rolled into the courtyard. Once everyone was settled, Marnie offered to leave so that Marriner could conduct his interview in private.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you, Mrs Walker.”
“Fire away.”
“You told us there was no-one else here at the time you discovered the body in the canal. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve learnt that there was someone else, another man.”
“That was D– … that was Nikolaus. We told you about him. Anne went to college to get his phone number. He said he’d phone to make an appointment to see you.”
“Which he did.”
“There you are, then.”
“Whose name begins with D, Mrs Walker? I think you were about to say it.”
Marnie paused. “It’s Donovan.”
Marriner looked confused. “Who the hell’s Donovan?”
“Nikolaus Donovan Smith. Donovan’s a sort of nickname.”
Marriner narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t be trying to confuse me, would you?”
Before Marnie could reply, Anne stood up, walked to the kitchen area and returned carrying a picture frame. She showed Marriner the postcards of the Bauhaus exhibition, then turned the picture round to point at the label attached to the back. Anne had pasted the gift card on the reverse. Marriner and Lamb read the handwritten inscription.
To Anne
From Donovan
Marriner sat back and Lamb returned to her seat. He thought for a few seconds before turning again to Marnie.
“You still haven’t answered my question, Mrs Walker.”
Marnie extended both hands sideways, her expression blank.
“What else do you want to know?”
“The name of the other man who was here with you when you found the body.”
“There was no other man, sergeant.”
Marriner fixed Marnie with a stare. “Dekker. Does that refresh your memory? Maurice Dekker?”
Marnie frowned. “He wasn’t here, not that day.”
“Mrs Appleton in the shop told us he came here that afternoon at dusk. The taxi driver who brought him called in at the shop after dropping him off. He said he’d just taken the one he called The Man in Black as far as the field gate. If he wasn’t on his way to Glebe Farm, where was he going?”
Marnie found herself speechless.
“He came to see me.”
All eyes turned towards Willow.
“You?” said Marriner.
“Yes. He wanted to talk about private family matters.”
“How does that concern you, Mrs Haycroft?”
Willow’s expression was composed. “He’s my husband’s brother.”
“So, Ben’s uncle,” said Cathy Lamb.
Willow made no reply. Marnie, Anne, Angela and Ben looked on in silence.
“What did he want to talk about?” said Marriner.
“Like I said, family matters. Nothing to do with Mr Meadows.”
Marriner was frowning again. “Mrs Haycroft, a member of your family comes down here at the same time as a man is on his way to visit you, a man who had had unfortunate dealings with you in the recent past and been threatened by your son. The next thing is, the man’s found dead in the canal. We’re investigating a suspicious death and you refuse to tell us why Mr Dekker was here.”
Marnie shifted in her chair. “I’m not sure we should be here while you discuss this, sergeant Marriner.”
“It’s all right, Marnie,” Willow began. She turned back to Marriner. “It was about money. Maurice wanted to know if we were being properly taken care of.”
“Did he or you see Mr Meadows?”
“No. Ben had gone out to see to Poppy while we talked, Maurice and I. When he got up to leave, we saw lights near the bridge. Ben and Poppy were on the bank. Maurice didn’t want anyone to see him, so he went off down the towpath.”
Marriner turned to Marnie and Anne. “Did you see him go?”
Anne shook her head.
Marnie said, “We were all focused on what was in the water by the bridge. I didn’t even notice Willow at the time.”
�
�But you’d seen this man previously?”
“Yes,” said Marnie. “He was here for Christmas last week.”
“You mean last month,” Marriner corrected her.
“Sorry, I should explain. We had a kind of second Christmas. Nikolaus brought things from Germany –”
“That would be Donovan?”
“Yes.”
“Where does Maurice Dekker fit in with this?”
“He was here. We invited him to join us.”
“Who else was present?”
“All of us here, except Angela, also Ralph of course.”
Marriner looked puzzled. “Mrs Haycroft and Ben?”
Marnie nodded. “Yes. Why does that surprise you? They’re our guests. It’s natural that we should invite them.”
“Forgive me, but I’m wondering what any of this has to do with me,” Angela said.
Marriner cleared his throat. “It’s rather awkward.” He looked at Willow and Ben. “Do you normally celebrate Christmas?”
“We have presents and send a few cards. We decorate inside the boat.”
“I see.” Marriner looked uncomfortable. “And you had no problem taking part in this second Christmas?”
“Why should we?” Willow said.
“Ben sang the introit,” said Marnie. “He did it beautifully.”
“The what?”
“You know, the traditional introit carol, Once in royal David’s city.”
Marriner and Lamb swapped glances.
“Ben sang a carol?” said Marriner, dubious.
“Why shouldn’t he?” said Marnie. “It was Christmas after all, sort of.”
“Has this something to do with why you’ve invited me along?” Angela asked.
Marriner looked sheepish. “In a way, yes.”
“You’ve invited the vicar to come on account of me and Ben?” Willow looked from Angela to the detectives and back to Angela. “I don’t get it. Why should you be interested in us?”
Before Angela could reply, Cathy Lamb intervened.
“It’s been suggested that you could be linked with … satanism.”
Willow’s reaction was immediate. She erupted with laughter. Even Ben departed from his customary enigmatic expression to a broad, if slightly puzzled, grin. He tapped his mother on the arm.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“It’s like, er … devil worship.”
Ben pulled a funny face. Marnie and Anne joined in the merriment. Angela looked completely nonplussed. Willow took a few moments to regain her composure before replying.