by Gwyn GB
‘I don’t know. Maybe he thought one of us was in trouble. That it had been done in haste. He’d never have thought in a million years that someone would be luring him there to hurt him. People were aware of the group, but we thought where we met and all the detail, was secret. If he thought one of us needed help, he’d have come whatever.’
‘Tell us about the group Craig, what is it about?’
Craig looked up at the photograph of Paul and him on the wall.
‘It was like in the old days, a kind of support group, I guess. We helped each other out whenever we could. There’s a bond between us. You know if one of us needed help with getting a job or had a problem with a horse, then we’d do what we could. All of us work with horses in different ways.’
‘A bit like a horsey Freemasons?’ Jack asked.
Craig sneered and shrugged.
‘Paul loved horses, and he’d have done anything for any one of us. That’s why I know The Horsemen had nothing to do with this.’
There were a few moment’s silence in the kitchen while all three thought about the man who’d been murdered.
‘What did you all do with the envelopes after you’d received them?’ asked Harrison.
‘Burnt them, it was part of the rules.’
‘And the toad bones, do you all have one?’
‘Yeah, once a member was inducted into the group, we taught them the old ways, the things that Paul’s great grand pa would have done.’
‘How did you know Paul?’
‘We met learning to ride together. Both wanted to be jockeys. I tried, but as you can see, I wasn’t really the build for it. Paul went on to be successful, and we remained really good friends.’
‘Were you aware of anyone who was obsessed with Paul, or The Horsemen? Perhaps someone who wanted to join, but was refused?’
‘I don’t think so, no. He wasn’t always popular with some people because he stood up for horses, he couldn’t stand people not treating them right.’
‘What about Gabby, Paul’s girlfriend?’
‘Oh yeah, she wanted to join, and Paul told her she couldn’t. She got quite annoyed about it. Kept telling him that women had equal rights as jockeys and were as good as men, and that he was being sexist not letting her join.’
‘How did Paul take that?’
‘He ignored it mostly, but he wasn’t going to budge on the rules. He just avoided her for a week or so and she’d usually calm down.’
‘Had they argued about it recently?’
‘Not sure. She’s quite a fiery one, you know redheads and all that. I don’t think Paul was planning long term like she was.’
‘Do you think he was going to dump her?’
‘Oh I don’t know about that. He talked about it occasionally, usually after they’d argued. Nothing specific.’
‘What about Mark Jones, who also works at Three Oaks?’
Craig shrugged and thought for a moment.
‘Paul never really mentioned him much.’
‘Do you understand we need to know who was in the group, Craig? Nobody’s in trouble, but it could be somebody connected to them, someone who knew what went on. That includes people you might know. We believe the killer would watch your meetings through a hole that has been hidden in the barn wall. Were you aware of a hole?’
Craig’s face told them he very clearly wasn’t.
‘No. Where? I’ve never noticed a hole.’
Harrison nodded and watched as the realisation dawned on Craig’s face.
‘So that means…’
‘They’d have seen the initiation ceremony, yes,’ Harrison confirmed.
Craig swore.
Jack looked from Harrison to the shocked Craig and back again.
‘Do you want to talk DS Salter through what your initiation ceremony entailed, Craig?’
Craig put his face into his palms and rubbed.
‘It’s the way they always used to do it. Written in the book Paul got from his grandfather. You knew that you were being invited to join the association, new members were scoped out first. They’d receive the horse tail hair in the envelope. They were told to meet up with the other members at a graveyard at midnight. It’s spooky right. You’re told to find a particular stone and then to stand by it and wait. You’re there in the dark, all alone, bricking it because of where you are, and then suddenly a hood is thrown over your head and you’re led away. Your captors declare that they’re The Horsemen and you shouldn’t be afraid, but even so, it’s pretty frightening.
‘We go by car to the barn, so the new recruit doesn’t know where the association meets until they’ve sworn the oath. Once inside, he’s surrounded by the other members, chanting. Eventually, the hood is taken off so he can see them. Paul’s grandad said they used to wear horse skulls on their heads, but Paul wasn’t into that, so we made wooden masks. There’s the oath stick, which has a hoof on the bottom, but not a horse’s hoof. It’s from a goat and that’s why some people think you’re swearing an allegiance to the Devil. On top is a pair of horns. They’re actually sheep horns, and we have an oath that we read out and the recruit has to swear allegiance. It includes the punishment of death if they break the oath.
‘Then we usually have a drink and toast the new member, but the final part, that’s the scariest bit. The new Horseman thinks he’s done, he’s in, but the group will turn on him and accuse him of being false and not living by the principles of The Horsemen, that he’s a traitor. The hood is put back over his head and he’s marched up the ladder to the hayloft. Up to where… to where the noose was. He’s told he’s going to die and go to the Devil. His hands are tied behind his back and the hood is put back over his head, before the noose is placed round his neck. We do some chanting and he’s pushed off the top. Only, we’ve untied the rope from the ring, he just falls into the hay beneath, and he’s fine.’
‘A fake hanging,’ said Jack out loud after listening intently to Craig’s story.
He nodded.
‘So whoever was peering through that hole would have seen it all.’
‘Or would they?’ said Harrison. ‘Would they have seen it all?’
23
Craig Matlock finally agreed that it was in the best interests of finding Paul’s killer, that he told Jack and Harrison who else was in the group.
After they’d left Craig sitting at his kitchen table, mourning his friend, Jack and Harrison looked over the names in the car.
‘None of these have been mentioned in the enquiry before,’ Jack noted.
‘No.’
‘We should send this list in to the enquiry team and get it logged.’
‘We should,’ Harrison agreed, but looked up at Jack to see if he could detect what the hidden thoughts were in his words.
‘But, seeing as DS O’Neil seems so keen to keep us out of the way of his enquiry, I think it’s probably best that we don’t bother him with these just yet, don’t you?’ Jack smirked.
Harrison smiled back.
‘We’re going to have to speak to all of them as quickly as possible though.’ Jack sighed. ‘Starting with the closest.’
First on their list was Oliver Carmichael. He was Head Lad at a racing stables just a couple of miles from where Paul had lived. They arrived mid afternoon when the stables were at their quietest, which worked out well. Oliver was in the yard office sorting out feed bills.
‘That was quick,’ he said as soon as they walked through the door. ‘Craig said you’d be calling round, but didn’t expect you so soon. Take a seat.’
It was nice to have a slightly more welcoming reception than they’d had the rest of the day. Harrison appraised the room and the man. Organised, professional, and popular, if the ‘World’s Greatest Boss’ mug, and clear desktop, were anything to go by.
‘Fancy a brew?’ he asked, gesticulating at the kettle on the side.
‘I’d love a cup please, cheers,’ said Jack, who was suffering from the earlier lack of beverages.
Oliver raised an eyebrow in question to Harrison.
‘Just a glass of water, please,’ he replied.
‘No problem, I’ll give you the posh mug and glass, the one we save for clients.’
While the kettle boiled, Jack got started on the interview.
‘How long had you known Paul Lester?’
At the mention of his friend’s name, Oliver looked noticeably less cheerful.
‘He was a good mate. We met about six years ago, used to see him at races and out on the gallops. He rode a few horses for us too, but we used to meet up in town for a drink. I don’t understand why anyone would want to kill him. He annoyed a few who were less than ethical in the racing world, but the vast majority of people really liked him.’
‘Unfortunately, it only takes one,’ said Jack as he watched Oliver pour the boiling water into his mug.
He held up a milk carton.
‘Just a little, thank you.’
Harrison already had his water and was sitting listening to the conversation, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking back to when he’d peered through the hole in the barn wall, trying to remember the exact line of vision.
‘What about your fellow Horsemen?’ Jack questioned.
Oliver handed him the mug of tea and went to sit back down.
‘I can promise you that none of them would have hurt Paul. There was no reason to. We are all mates.’
‘I have to ask where you were on Friday night.’
‘That’s OK, I was in the Five Bells at Burwell. Met my girlfriend for dinner and went back to hers for a few hours before coming back to the yard. We have early starts.’
‘Could I have her name?’
‘Sure, Lucy Bond. She works in Newmarket for an accountant.’
‘Do you keep up with any of the other members of The Horsemen outside of your meetings?’
‘Yeah course, I see all of them at different times. Usually not all together. Was supposed to meet up with Sam yesterday, but he didn’t show. I’m assuming he’s had to deliver a horse urgently. He does transport. Helps ship horses around the country and even abroad.’
‘That’s Sam Brown?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Is there anyone you can think of who maybe wanted to join your group but couldn’t, or who had a grudge to bear against Paul?’
‘No. Like I said, most people liked him. I’m sure you know he and Alex Michaels don’t see eye to eye, but he’s just a prat. I don’t think he’d have it in him to kill someone. Wouldn’t have the balls.’
‘Can I ask what you do with the invitations after they’ve arrived?’ Harrison asked.
‘Burn it straight away,’ said Oliver.
‘And you didn’t receive an invite last Friday?’ Jack asked.
‘No.’
‘Is there anyone who could have access to your post, to have seen the invites arrive?’
Oliver thought for a moment, and slowly shook his head.
‘Not really, no. They get delivered straight to our home addresses, so it’s not like someone here would see it. I live on my own.’
‘You were unusually quiet in there,’ Jack said to Harrison as they left. ‘And that’s saying something bearing in mind you’re not exactly Mr Chatty at the best of times.’
‘You asked the questions fine,’ Harrison replied.
‘What’s up?’ Jack stopped and looked at him.
‘Two things. I think we should put Sam Brown at the top of our list for who to see next. What if this isn’t just about Paul? What if it’s about The Horsemen? There could be more of them in danger. And second, I need to go back to the barn and test a theory asap.’
‘OK. I’ll call into the incident room and let them know we need to get back in there. Sam’s not far from here. He’s got a place where he stores his horse trucks, and Craig reckons he lives in a flat on site.’
Jack jumped into the car after his phone call to the incident room, his face animated with anger.
‘You’re not going to believe it. They’ve arrested Alex Michaels and O’Neil wants us in there now to start the interview.’
Harrison sighed heavily.
‘He’s convinced its him.’
‘What evidence has he got?’
‘Apparently it’s based on his and Paul’s public argument and Alex not having an alibi for Friday night.’
‘We haven’t met him yet, but from what everyone else says, he doesn’t fit the profile. We really need to check why Sam Brown isn’t answering his phone calls.’
‘Agreed. Let’s head to Sam’s and see if there’s any sign of him or where he’s gone first. They’re going to need to process Michaels before we can get in to see him, anyway.’
‘Sam’s Yard’ was a small light industrial area near to the Fens. The big steel gates were unlocked and open, so they were able to drive through and park up next to a huge horse transporter. It was a sleek silver truck which looked like it was going to be just as luxurious on the inside.
‘That’s a beast and a half,’ said Jack. ‘Probably cost as much as my house.’
There were four other trucks parked alongside, of varying sizes and age.
‘You’d think there’d be a bit more security than just CCTV, wouldn’t you,’ Jack said nodding at the cameras along the building edge.
‘I think you’ll find that he parks them inside at night.’ Harrison looked towards the large metal structure at the other end, which reminded him of a small aircraft hangar.
‘So why they not parked in there if he’s gone away?’ Jack said. ‘And why were the gates unlocked? He must be here.’
The two men headed straight for the sign which said, ‘Office’.
Jack knocked but didn’t wait for a reply. He tried the door handle. It was unlocked, so he pushed the door straight open and stepped inside. As his right foot slipped and his leg nearly went under him, Harrison grabbed his arm to keep him upright. Jack didn’t need to look down to know what it was he’d slipped on. The smell of death and blood filled the cramped office. Lying flat on his back in front of them, with a hole where his heart should be, was Sam Brown, surrounded by a congealed pool of his own blood. On his torso was a crucifix, and over both wrists and ankles were iron horseshoes.
‘Shit!’ was all Jack could say.
24
DCI Whittaker arrived on the scene just as Dr Marcus Marshall, the pathologist, carefully stepped out from Sam Brown’s office. Behind him the small room was lit up with forensic lamps and two white overall’d officers were photographing and collecting evidence. In front of him, Jack, Harrison, and DS O’Neil had been waiting impatiently for his first impressions. O’Neil stood apart from them, he’d barely spoken a word to either of them since he’d arrived, he was angry that they’d ruined his moment of glory in arresting Alex Michaels, and completely ignored his request to go back to the station to interview him. Now he stood, leaning against his car, arms and eyebrows crossed defensively.
‘OK, this one was stabbed before his heart was cut out.’ Dr Marshall addressed his waiting audience. ‘Several puncture wounds in his back, at least one of which would have perforated a lung.’
‘We’ve a suspect in custody, so what we need to know is an estimated time of death,’ DS O’Neil said to him.
Harrison could hear the hope in his voice and see the DS was nervous. He’d obviously managed to convince most of the team that Alex was their man, but as he’d been up in Doncaster for the past two days, with TV footage of him racing, as well as hundreds of eyewitnesses, the timing was going to be critical.
‘I’d say a little over twenty-four hours, but not as much as forty-eight,’ Dr Marshall replied.
‘From what you’ve seen, does the way the heart’s been cut out look like the same killer as Paul Lester?’ Jack asked. ‘It’s a different cause of death, so it might not be the same man.’
‘Well, obviously I need to get him into my lab and look at the wound in detail, but from what I’ve seen so far, the modus operandi
looks the same. No finesse or training, he’s just gone straight in there and wrenched it out, cutting whatever was necessary. Same as for Paul.’
Jack was secretly enjoying the look on DS O’Neil’s face. After he’d clearly tried to get one over on them, he’d been hoping for a chance to get one back. They’d found another victim, changed the focus of the case, and proved that DS O’Neil’s hasty conclusions were wrong.
‘You’d better get back and let Michaels out for now,’ DCI Whittaker said to O’Neil. ‘Get a statement and then let him go.’
‘Yes, boss,’ the DS replied, and stomped back to his car without even a glance in Jack's or Harrison’s direction.
‘So, DS Salter and Dr Lane, any thoughts?’
‘First thing is to warn the other members of The Horsemen that they need to take extra precautions. The killer could strike again,’ Jack said.
‘Agreed, I’ll get uniforms out to all the addresses you’ve given us.’
‘Dr Lane, anything that’s standing out to you?’
‘I have a theory for the motive, but I need to get back to the barn to confirm it.’
‘I won’t hold you up. Forensics have this scene under control. You do what you need to and don’t forget if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.’
Jack was sitting in the car outside the DIY store waiting for Harrison to reappear. He’d muttered that he needed to get something and disappeared into the shop without any further explanation. The smell of death was still in Jack’s nostrils and he sat with the windows open, preferring the chill to being reminded about what he’d recently stepped in. He texted Marie to see how things were going at her parents. She replied almost straight away:
Sitting watching mum photographing dad holding Daniel. She’s taken about fifty photos already!!!
He was still beaming when Harrison yanked open the back passenger door and flung in a length of rope before sitting back down beside him in the front.
‘Just had a text from Marie. She’s had a great day.’ Jack said to him. ‘I’m actually looking forward to getting back to them now.’