by Alex Pine
James knew he’d be wasting his time trying to reason with the man, so he put the card back down and walked along the hall to let himself out. The door was slammed shut behind him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
By the time Annie got home it was already dark. She’d spent longer with Janet Dyer than she’d expected to, as her friend had been angry and distraught, and had wanted a shoulder to cry on.
James was waiting for her and had made himself useful by peeling the potatoes for dinner and preparing the chicken so it was ready to roast.
He poured them each a glass of wine and they agreed that he would go first and tell Annie about his visit to Keith Patel’s house.
She narrowed her eyes when he mentioned the Christmas cards on the sideboard.
‘He was adamant that he didn’t deliver one to me,’ he said. ‘And it was impossible to tell if he was lying. He came across as angry rather than panicked.’
James then told Annie what Patel had said about Janet Dyer not arranging for another carer to check on his mother in the days following her fall down the stairs.
This was Annie’s cue to talk about her visit to Janet’s house.
‘She was upset because Charlie Jenkins gave her an earful when he went to see her this morning,’ she said. ‘To get her own back she phoned Sonia and told her she was lying when she denied sleeping with him. She admitted to having an affair with Charlie, and that she’d made the mistake of telling someone. And that someone just happened to be Daniel Curtis’s father, Ron. Mr Curtis was indiscreet and told one of his mates who then told someone else. It eventually got back to Sonia.’
The more James learned about the people of Kirkby Abbey, the more he was beginning to wonder if they had made a huge mistake by moving here.
The following hour or so was spent preparing dinner, drinking wine and trying to relax.
Annie knew that James wasn’t looking forward to playing host to her uncle, but he promised her he’d be on his best behaviour.
When six o’clock came and Bill still hadn’t turned up, she called him on his mobile. It went to voicemail so she left a message. By six-thirty, they were both becoming concerned.
Annie called The King’s Head and asked to be put through to his room. The landlady, Martha Grooms, said he had left the pub earlier after telling her he was spending the evening with an old pal in the nearby village of Ravenstonedale. Annie asked her to check if his car was still parked out back and she was told that it wasn’t.
By seven o’clock they accepted that he wouldn’t be coming and started on the dinner, though with a marked lack of enthusiasm.
‘I’m really worried,’ Annie said. ‘What if something’s happened to him? I just don’t believe he simply forgot about it.’
James shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s getting up to no good somewhere. You said yourself he was acting weird.’
As the evening wore on, Annie became increasingly concerned. She tried and failed to reach her uncle by phone several more times. Just before she and James went to bed at 11 p.m. she put in another call to The King’s Head and spoke to Martha again.
‘He still hasn’t arrived back,’ the woman said. ‘But he has a key so he’ll just let himself in through the accommodation entrance after we close the bar and restaurant.’
Annie eventually went to bed but struggled to sleep. She kept wondering where her Uncle Bill was and also why so many disturbing things were happening all at once in the village.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It’s almost midnight and most of the village is sleeping. But not me. I’m doing what I usually do at this time – walking the dog before sloping off to bed.
I’m a creature of habit, which is one of my many faults. But the truth is I enjoy this time alone with my precious Yorkie, Daisy. She doesn’t judge me, or find fault with everything I do. She’s loyal and loving and she never lets me down. Unlike some of the people in my life.
I take the same route as always, along the narrow pavement to the store that sells hiking and fishing equipment, then left over the little footbridge that crosses the stream.
The snow has been falling all evening and I’m sure the fells will be covered for the festive period. That’s good news for those who won’t need to get around. But in heavy snow the countryside can be treacherous, the roads impassable, and villages and towns are often completely cut off from the outside world.
I can hear the wind whimpering in the trees on the fellside, but there’s not much to see because the landscape has been consumed by the darkness.
I draw on my ciggy and expel a stream of smoke. Then I let Daisy off the lead. She runs around excitedly before crouching down and emptying her bowels.
It’s been a bad day but at last I’m feeling relaxed. Behind me silence has closed over the village like a shroud, and lights twinkle in some of the windows.
Suddenly Daisy starts barking at the ancient beech tree up ahead. The tree marks the point where we always turn around and head back towards home.
Daisy doesn’t usually react like this so I assume she’s spotted a squirrel or a fox. I call her back but she stays where she is, in a state of high excitement.
I drop my cigarette and walk towards her.
‘What’s up, girl?’ I say to her. ‘Has something creeped you out?’
When I get to within a few feet of the tree a figure steps out from behind it. A shiver grabs hold of my spine and I let out a sharp cry of alarm. The figure is ghostly and indistinct, and I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.
I start to speak, but my words are cut off as the figure rushes towards me waving what looks like a long-bladed knife.
Before I can react an explosion of pain erupts in my chest and I hear a horrible scream issue from between my lips.
My legs give way and my eyes lose focus. But then I’m stabbed again, this time in the stomach, and I drop onto the snow like a sack of cement.
The last thing I hear before blacking out is a voice that says, ‘This is no more than you deserve.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sunday December 18th
On Sunday morning, Kirkby Abbey was covered in a blanket of snow several inches deep. It had stopped falling in the early hours, so it wasn’t causing serious disruption, but tree branches were hanging low with the weight of it and the village looked like an unfinished painting.
The experts were still warning of more to come, saying that Cumbria was among the counties most likely to be battered by severe blizzards over the coming days. Their advice to hikers was not to get caught in isolated parts of the Yorkshire Dales and Lake District.
James and Annie had no firm plans for most of the day ahead, but they had decided to go along to the carol singing that was due to take place in the village square at ten o’clock that morning.
It was seven when James climbed out of bed and started making the tea after another disturbed sleep. Annie had kept him awake for much of the night worrying about her uncle.
James wasn’t so concerned about ‘Old Bill,’ as he often referred to him. He didn’t know him that well – having met him only about a dozen times since marrying Annie – but he was sure the man was capable of looking after himself. After all, he’d been living alone in Penrith since his wife divorced him eighteen years ago.
According to Annie, he had always been a difficult bloke to get on with, and had a reputation for being unreliable. In fact, he failed to turn up for their wedding even though he’d been sent an official invitation weeks before. His excuse was that he hadn’t realised it fell on the same day he was flying back from a work-related trip to Ireland.
As soon as she was up, Annie tried again to reach Bill on his mobile. This time, much to her surprise, he answered straight away. Annie put her phone on speaker so that James could hear what Bill had to say for himself.
‘I’m so very sorry, Annie, but I really don’t recall you inviting me over,’ he said. ‘I’d already told Sid Myers that I’d visit him in Ravenstonedale. We used to
work together but hadn’t seen each other in years. It wasn’t a great evening, as it turned out, because I couldn’t drink and had forgotten how dull the man can be when you’re sober.’
‘So what time did you get back?’
‘Just after midnight. And it wasn’t a pleasant drive in the snow either.’
‘I tried ringing you throughout the evening, Bill.’
‘I can see that from the list of missed calls on my phone. But I forgot to take it with me and left it on the bed.’
‘So will we see you today?’
‘Of course. I’ll come over whenever you want me to and I promise not to forget this time.’
‘Well, if you’re interested, James and I are joining in the carol singing in the village square. It starts at ten, weather permitting.’
‘That sounds good. It’ll give me time to have a shower and breakfast. They do a tasty fry-up in this place and it comes with the room.’
‘So we’ll see you there, then.’
‘You will indeed.’
Annie hung up and turned to James.
‘It still makes no sense to me,’ she said. ‘I really don’t believe he forgot that I invited him. We only had the conversation yesterday morning, for heaven’s sake.’
‘Maybe he didn’t forget,’ James said. ‘Maybe he just couldn’t stand the thought of having dinner with us.’
Annie shook her head. ‘That can’t be it. He didn’t have to join us here for Christmas. He chose to. No, I’ve got a feeling that it’s more complicated. There’s something he’s not telling me and I’m determined to find out what the bloody hell it is.’
Singing carols in the open with lots of other people had never been James’s or Annie’s idea of fun but they were joining in this year because Annie was keen to take part in community activities. So, they walked hand in hand through the village, the snow softening their steps.
The air was cold but invigorating, and the views of the stark white landscape in the distance were awe-inspiring. It didn’t surprise James that Cumbria was considered one of the UK’s most beautiful counties, with its soaring fells, amazing waterfalls and stunning lakes. No wonder it had inspired so many famous stories and poems.
And he had to admit that strolling through Kirkby Abbey was much more pleasant that traversing the grimy streets of Tottenham. At least here the air wasn’t filled with toxic fumes and the constant roar of traffic.
This, to him, was the upside of living in Cumbria. It was quiet, picturesque, and a safe distance from the mess that had become of his beloved London.
It wasn’t enough to stop him feeling a little homesick, though. And it wasn’t just the job in the Met that he missed. It was the vibrancy of the city, the fact that shops were open 24/7, and that virtually every member of his close-knit family lived only a short drive away.
But he accepted that he was going to have to get used to this new life, if only for a short time. Keeping Annie safe was his main priority and it always would be.
There were between seventy and a hundred people in the square by the time they got there. According to Annie, that was many more than had shown up in previous years. They were gathered on one side of the Christmas tree waiting for Father Silver to get things going.
He had entered the spirit of the occasion by wearing a Santa Claus hat that was in striking contrast to his black overcoat and gloves. James suspected that he was the reason for the high turn-out. The priest was a popular figure in the village and had organised the carol singing for years. But sadly, this was likely going to be the last time due to his illness. There was no doubting he would be missed, along with his church, which had for so long been a focal point for the community.
But as he waved and smiled at the people who had turned up, it was clear that he wasn’t going to let his illness cast a shadow over the event.
James and Annie took up position at the back of the crowd and were handed leaflets with the order of service and lyrics. The first carol was going to be Joy to the World followed by O Come All Ye Faithful.
As the singing was about to begin there was still no sign of Bill. Annie tried to call him but it seemed his phone was switched off.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ James told her. ‘He’s probably on his way or somewhere in the crowd.’
On the dot of ten Father Silver began to speak. He welcomed everyone and said that he was delighted to see that so many people had turned up for what promised to be a memorable occasion.
Before he could burst into song, however, someone started screaming. All eyes moved from Father Silver to a woman who was running towards them along the pavement. It was clear from the terrified look on her face that something very bad had happened.
James didn’t recognise the woman. She was wearing hiking boots and had a rucksack strapped to her back.
She stopped screaming as she approached the crowd and started to shout hysterically.
‘There’s a body in the field. And lots of blood. Someone needs to call the police.’
James moved like a greyhound out of the traps. He reached the woman just as she entered the square and was already holding up his warrant card.
‘I’m Detective Inspector James Walker,’ he said. ‘Please calm down and talk to me. Are you by yourself?’
She nodded and took a couple of deep breaths before responding.
‘I’m staying at a bed and breakfast here in the village,’ she said. ‘I was starting out on a short walk when I saw a figure, a person, lying in the snow. When I got up close, I saw the blood.’
‘Are you sure this person is dead?’
‘I’m positive. I called out and nudged the body with my foot, but there was no movement. And the face is covered with snow, so I don’t know if it’s a man or woman. You should go see for yourself. It’s on the other side of the stream next to the old beech tree. Just across the footbridge. Oh God, it’s horrible. I can’t believe it.’
‘Okay, well—’
‘And that’s not all,’ she continued breathlessly, her voice high and brittle. ‘There’s a small dog as well. It looks to be frozen stiff.’
James reached out and placed a hand gently on her shoulder, aware at the same time that others had closed in on them, eager to find out what was going on.
‘I’ll go straight over there and take a look,’ he said. ‘But before I do, please tell me your name.’
‘It’s Fiona. Fiona Birch. I’m spending Christmas here with a few hiking friends but they don’t arrive until this afternoon.’
‘Right, well, you wait here, Fiona, and I’ll take a statement from you when I get back.’
He turned to the group that had gathered behind him and saw that they were at least twenty strong, and included Annie and Father Silver.
‘Now what this lady has told me needs investigating,’ he said out loud. ‘While I do that you must all stay here because if a crime has been committed, I don’t want to risk anyone destroying or contaminating possible evidence.’
Annie stepped forward and gently grasped Fiona’s arm.
‘Just go check, James,’ she said. ‘And I suggest you hurry up.’
From the look she gave him it was obvious they were thinking the same thing – that it wouldn’t be long before curiosity drove some people across the footbridge and into the field.
He broke into a run and it took him only minutes to reach the little bridge. He had walked across it himself only a couple of weeks ago, when Annie had taken him to see some of the finest views of the surrounding countryside, so he was familiar with the field in question and the ancient beech tree that Fiona had mentioned.
He saw the body when he was some way off, a dark bump rising like a rock out of the smooth white snow.
There was only one set of footprints leading away from him, which must have been left by Fiona. He walked parallel with them until he reached the body. The size and shape told him it was a man but be couldn’t be sure.
Fiona had been right about the blood. There was a l
ot of it, bright red stains that spread in shapeless patches across the parts of the figure not covered by snow.
James knelt down next to the body and flicked the flakes from the face with a gloved hand.
As the grey, swollen features were revealed, he saw that he was indeed looking down at a male. It was clear that he was dead and that he must have been lying here for hours.
It took James several seconds longer to realise that he recognised the face. It belonged to Charlie Jenkins, landlord of The White Hart pub.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
James felt his breath stall as he stared down at the body of Charlie Jenkins. At the same time his heart started racing, punching at his chest like a steam hammer.
Before touching the body again, he called it in and told control that backup and a SOCO team, plus a pathologist, needed to be dispatched right away.
He then took great care to brush the snow from the torso. Jenkins was wearing a thick coat that was soaked through. Most of the blood had formed on the chest and stomach, and that was where James spotted the holes in the material.
He had seen enough knife wounds in his career to know that the man had been stabbed at least twice and with brute force. He would leave it to the scene of crime technicians to delve beneath the layers of clothing. The last thing he wanted to do was damage or destroy vital pieces of evidence.
But there was no doubting the fact that Jenkins had been murdered, and it had happened at some time during the night or early hours of this morning.
James stood and started to frantically process the scene, not an easy task given that the whole area was under a layer of snow. He then remembered what the woman who had stumbled upon the body had said about a dog.
It didn’t take him long to spot the small mound a few yards away. He stepped over to it and crouched down for a closer look. It wasn’t covered by as much snow due to the overhanging branches of the beech tree, so James could tell that it was a small, brown Yorkshire Terrier. There didn’t appear to be any blood on or around it so he suspected it must have frozen to death while remaining at its owner’s side.