The Slay of the Land (The Heathervale Mysteries Book 1)

by Matilda Swift

  Arrina walked off briskly and headed directly for the corridor on the right-hand side of the velvet- and crystal-stuffed lobby.

  ‘Arrina!’ A bright, nasal voice echoed across the lobby. It sounded friendly, but the voice belonged to Eleanor Shale, so Arrina knew it was anything but. Arrina slowed down though she did not stop in her quest to reach Gillian. Eleanor strode across the lobby to catch up, her wobbling heels striking the marble floor in an ominous countdown to their encounter. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to stop you there. It’s members only in the Lavender Room today.’

  Arrina took a deep breath and forced her face to look as neutral as possible before turning to face Eleanor. ‘I’m just looking for Gillian,’ Arrina said.

  As Eleanor would know all too well, Arrina had lost the access road vote and lost her job—lost everything—to Gillian DeViers. Eleanor might be expecting anger or desperation. Arrina was not going to give her the satisfaction of either of those reactions. But she also didn’t want to risk tipping her hand too soon—if she looked eager to find Gillian, then it might seem suspicious. And she didn’t want Gillian to catch wind of what Arrina was thinking.

  ‘I need to hand over an important document to her,’ Arrina added. She pressed her lips tightly together and tipped up her chin. This was how she would look if she was trying to be brave in the face of losing everything. Or at least, that’s what she hoped it would come across as.

  Eleanor eyed her suspiciously. ‘Is that not something which could wait?’ she asked. ‘We’re just about to start a meeting.’ She said this as though she were the CEO of a FTSE 100 company, not a participant in a snooty gossip-fest for idle older women.

  Arrina grabbed the folded access road application from her bag and waved it in front of Eleanor before quickly putting it away. ‘It’s really not, actually. I’m required to present this in person to Gillian today.’ That was not, in fact, a lie, though Arrina was the person who was requiring it of herself. The statement was close enough to the truth that she was able to maintain her eye contact with Eleanor’s watery gaze.

  Eleanor pursed her lips, showing every deep wrinkle around her mouth. Arrina was sure the woman spent a fortune on face creams to try to keep those ageing lines at bay, but a change to a more pleasant demeanour would do a far better job of it.

  ‘I’m not sure whether she’ll be attending this week,’ Eleanor said.

  The two women stared at each other in silence. The hushed voices of the hotel’s staff echoed around the lobby’s high ceiling. Arrina thought she could also hear Eleanor’s thickly mascara-daubed eyelashes clattering together as she blinked.

  ‘Well, would you mind very much going to check?’ Arrina asked. Then she gave her sweetest, most innocent smile. Eleanor could not say no to this without looking like a vicious old witch. Which of course, she was. But she didn’t want to look that way if she could help it.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Eleanor said. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  Then she clacked across the lobby in the direction of the Lavender Room. Arrina heard her footsteps stop just a little way down the corridor. If Arrina peeked around the corner now, she was sure she would see Eleanor counting out a suitable interval before she could return to say that no, unfortunately, she’d not been able to find Gillian.

  But Arrina did not look down the corridor. She stayed exactly where she was and stood listening. Just moments after Eleanor walked down the corridor, she was joined by Gertie Cooper, and the whispers of the two women echoed around the high-ceilinged lobby.

  Arrina ground her teeth together as she heard them exchange gleeful gossip about her.

  ‘That Fenn woman is here,’ Eleanor said. ‘Waltzed right in, bold as brass. I virtually had to wrestle her to the ground to keep her from marching into the Lavender Room.’

  ‘I almost wish you hadn’t,’ Gertie said. ‘I’d have paid good money to see her try to take down Gillian.’

  Arrina’s cheeks burned as she listened. But she wouldn’t be scared off by a pair of bitter old women. She would give them another minute to get fully distracted by their gossiping, then she would stride past them to the Lavender Room to find Gillian DeViers herself.

  But the next thing she heard from Eleanor Shale made her change her plans entirely.

  33

  ‘Speaking of money,’ Eleanor Shale said. ‘I’ve heard an update on a certain someone’s situation.’

  The woman was clearly trying to keep her voice quiet, but its sharp, nasal twang was perfectly made for echoing around the high-ceilinged hallways of an English country house.

  ‘Oh, really?’ Gertie replied. ‘She’s gone very quiet on that front with me. Though I have noticed that her grandmother’s case isn’t on its pedestal in her hallway, and I did wonder.’

  Arrina did not have to strain very hard to hear. And she also didn’t have to tax her brain too strongly in order to work out what the two women were discussing. They were trading gossip about their supposed best friend, Gillian DeViers, whose money worries had been the talk of the village for the past several months.

  ‘She’ss always been terribly indiscrete about how valuable the thing is,’ Eleanor Shale said. ‘But she swore she’d never part with it.’

  ‘Well, you-know-who has called in the big guns at his law firm, and he’s digging his heels in about the house.’

  ‘He never even liked it. Why is he so set on holding onto it?’

  ‘If you ask me, he’s only doing it to annoy her.’ The smile in Gertie’s voice was audible through her stagey whisper. ‘He knows she can’t afford to buy him out. And he can afford to waste time and money in the courts over this if it means getting his own way.’

  ‘She certainly can’t. Can’t afford much of anything if she doesn’t get the money from the house, as far as I’ve heard.’

  ‘I know. Have you noticed how often she’s been forgetting her purse lately when we go out for lunch?’

  ‘I’m this close to suggesting a dementia check-up.’

  ‘Oh, you are awful.’ Gertie laughed again. ‘My suggestion is still for her to move on to husband number two.’

  ‘And who would that be? There isn’t exactly a wealth of likely suitors around here.’

  ‘If it’s wealth she needs, she ought to be batting her lashes at Rory Hayes. He must have leapt up several spots on the eligibility ladder now that he’s the sole owner of all that land.’

  Arrina smiled at this, glad that for once in Heathervale history, she knew something that Gillian’s rumour hounds didn’t.

  ‘He’s still a farmer though,’ Eleanor said. ‘He’d have to be rich as Croesus to make Gillian overlook the grubby nails and the stench of pigs.’

  The women laughed loudly then hushed each other.

  ‘Anyway,’ Gertie said, lowering her voice, ‘what was your update?’

  ‘Well, you didn’t hear it from me,’ Eleanor started, at which Arrina spotted several nearby hotel employees tilt their heads in order to listen more carefully.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘But a little bird said the county is going to put the new access road right through her house.’

  ‘Oh, that’s terrible. On top of everything else! And she just had the kitchen redone last year.’

  ‘No, it’s not terrible. It’s exactly what she wants. They’ll do a compulsory purchase. And you-know-who won’t be able to stop it. She’ll get half the money, buy a little place of her own, and best of all, she’ll remember to bring her purse again when she comes out with us for lunch.’

  Arrina glanced at the staff at the front desk. They were raising their eyebrows and smiling at each other with pleasure at being the owners of juicy gossip like this. She half-expected one of them to pick up the phone and spread the news straight away. But these were professionals—they knew better ways to get their information around. Indeed, when the doorman caught their eye, they motioned him over and whispered quickly in his ear. They would do the same to any staff member who passed, Arrina was cert
ain, and Gillian’s plan would be all around the village by lunchtime.

  ‘Oh! Are you sure about this though?’ Gertie asked. ‘She hasn’t said anything about it to me.’

  ‘Nor me. Apparently, it’s a little... well, it’s a little Gillian, is what it is.’

  ‘Speaking of which, can you believe that she’s going to be taking over that dreadful college? What can she be thinking?’

  Arrina stiffened at the mention of this.

  ‘You don’t think she’s really going to work with those delinquents, do you?’ Eleanor’s voice lost all attempts at quiet subtlety. ‘Knowing Gillian, she’ll have a plan to deal with the place.’

  ‘Kick out the murderers, for one thing.’

  The two women laughed. A soft gong sounded in the distance, and Arrina heard the laughter fade away.

  Eleanor had apparently forgotten that Arrina was waiting for her to return. Or more likely, she simply didn’t care.

  Arrina had a good mind to chase after them. There were no murderers at her college, she wanted to say. The real murderer was right here in the midst of the Women’s Institute.

  But she couldn’t say that. She could not let them know that she was on to Gillian. No. She needed to go to the police station and tell them everything she knew about Gillian DeViers and what she’d been up to recently.

  There would be legal records that the police could look up and information on Gillian’s urgent need to get rid of her house. The police would soon be able to arrest her and release Olly from his hiding place in the village hall.

  Yes, it might seem a little far-fetched to suggest that the tweed-clad, powder-faced chair of the Parish Council was the murderer, but Arrina was certain of it.

  If the access road was the only means the woman had of getting money while she fought through the long years of a difficult divorce, then who knew what she would do to get it?

  Arrina still found it crazy to think the woman would kill someone to make it happen. But knowing Heathervale, there would be bad blood between Gillian and Hugo that Arrina wasn’t aware of. And given the way that Gillian’s friends spoke about her, being the woman’s enemy could certainly be deadly.

  Arrina ran through the lobby, gave an apologetic smile to the doorman, and leapt into her car at the front of the hotel. She turned her key quickly, and the engine growled in complaint.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said to the car, stroking its steering wheel. ‘That was my fault. I’m a little frantic.’

  She tried it again and got a rough cough and splutter.

  ‘I’m not having this today,’ Arrina said. ‘I’ve apologised to you. Now just start.’

  She turned the key a third time, and the engine leapt into purring life.

  ‘That’s better.’

  But she didn’t drive off immediately. The police station was miles away. It would take twenty minutes to drive there at least. Far more if she got stuck behind a tractor or a trailer-load of market-bound pigs.

  Arrina glanced at her handbag in the passenger seat. Her phone was in there, and stored inside it was Tony Mellor’s number. She’d changed the contact name to DO NOT CALL, but she still had not deleted the number in all the months since their break-up.

  She could ring him now and tell him that arresting Fiona would be a terrible mistake. He was on the wrong track—he should be looking into Gillian DeViers, not Fiona Hayes and Maggie Lee.

  She pulled out her phone to call him. But when she looked at it, she saw DO NOT CALL right there on the screen. She had a message from Tony. Arrina opened it, hoping that he’d also been following another lead that had taken him away from Fiona and Maggie.

  I should not be disclosing this information, his message said. But I’m concerned that you’ll put yourself in danger otherwise. There is video evidence of Fiona Hayes driving Hugo’s Land Rover away from the college early Tuesday morning. She is the killer. I am organising backup and heading over there now. Please stay away from the scene so you don’t get hurt.

  Arrina stared at the message. It was too late. Fiona would be arrested for her husband’s murder, and there was nothing Arrina could do about it. Worse, it was all Arrina’s fault. She was the one who’d suggested Fiona as a suspect in the first place.

  Arrina’s eyes welled up with tears. Why did everything she did end in disaster? Just a week ago, she’d been a strong, successful woman who ran a busy sixth form college with over a thousand students in it. She’d managed dozens of staff members. Her days had been filled with answering queries and fixing problems for people wherever she turned.

  How had she lost all that in a matter of days?

  Arrina looked down at the message again. It sounded final—Tony was going to arrest Fiona, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Then Arrina noticed the time stamp on the message. It had been sent two minutes ago.

  Tony said he was still arranging his backup. And he was coming all the way from the police station. Arrina was far closer to Fiona. Even better, she had her speedy little XJ6, which could get her there in no time.

  Arrina couldn’t stand by and let Tony arrest the wrong person again. It had been bad enough to watch young Olly be taken away in handcuffs. But with Fiona, it would be even worse. The woman was a grieving widow. She was trying hard to keep the small family of herself and Maggie Lee together, and Arrina would not be the reason that either of those women suffered any more pain.

  She gunned her engine and sped back down the driveway of Wolferton Manor. Tony wasn’t going to arrest Fiona. Not if she could help it.

  34

  Arrina slalomed round the winding Heathervale roads and reached Fiona’s house in record time. As she turned up the driveway, she half-expected to be greeted by sirens and flashing lights. But for once, things were going her way.

  Even better, Fiona’s black Mercedes was parked alongside the house. Arrina leapt from her car and rushed to the front door.

  A glance over her shoulder confirmed that the police were not hot on her heels. But they couldn’t be too far away. Arrina rang the bell and rapped hard on the sky-blue door at the same time. She felt a pang of regret when Fiona rushed to the door with puffy red eyes and a tissue clutched in one fist, but this was no time to let feelings get in the way. Arrina pushed into the house and slammed the door shut behind her.

  ‘Oh!’ Fiona said, her damp lashes blinking slowly. ‘I’m afraid I’m not quite up to visitors. Perhaps another—’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Arrina said. ‘Really, I am. I’ll explain everything in a minute, but can I just ask you to follow me to my car? It’s right outside.’

  She hadn’t planned to say this. In fact, even as she said it, she knew she sounded crazy. And in the moments before Fiona opened her mouth to answer, Arrina realised that she was technically suggesting she assist Fiona in fleeing the police. But right then, it seemed like the only option.

  ‘Follow you?’ Fiona asked. She brought her tissue to her face and dabbed at her damp cheeks.

  ‘Yes,’ Arrina said, more slowly now. ‘I think that might be necessary.’

  ‘To your car?’

  ‘It’s just outside. It’s only slightly temperamental, and once it gets going, it really is an excellent vehicle. In fact, your husband once tried to buy it from me. I’m Arrina Fenn, by the way. Did I say that already?’

  ‘No,’ Fiona said, taking several small steps back into the hallway.

  ‘No, I didn’t say that, or no, you won’t follow me?’ Arrina glanced back at the door, as though the police were going to break it down at any minute. But she couldn’t hear any footsteps on the driveway or even an engine pulling up outside.

  ‘No to both of them, I think,’ Fiona said, pulling herself up a little straighter. ‘I do know who you are. I’ve seen you around the village many times, though I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced. I know that Hugo was very fond of your college and quite excited to start working there.’

  Fiona gave nothing away. Arrina couldn’t eve
n tell whether the woman hated her guts because the college had somehow contributed to Hugo’s death.

  ‘It’s nice to hear that,’ Arrina said. ‘But I don’t suppose that your husband’s fondness is going to buy me any trust today, is it?’

  Fiona gave Arrina a slow once-over, her face still held stiff in a mask of politeness. ‘I haven’t asked you to leave yet,’ she said finally before walking into the front sitting room. ‘Follow me, and perhaps you can explain what’s going on.’

  Arrina trotted at Fiona’s heels, as though she could make the woman move quickly simply by willing it. But Fiona would not be rushed. She walked with a gliding elegance and settled into her stiff-backed armchair with glacial smoothness.

  The front window of the room framed the driveway like a movie set. Arrina glanced out at it every few seconds.

  Fiona folded her hands together like bird wings in her lap. Then she looked at Arrina and nodded. ‘What is it that brings you here today?’ she asked. She smiled politely, as though everything was absolutely normal and Arrina hadn’t just burst through her front door like a madwoman.

  But Arrina could see that the woman’s calmness held an intensity borne of desperation. Fiona’s eyes were red and swollen from the tears still drying on her lashes. The woman was devastated by the death of her husband. Maintaining a façade of propriety in front of a guest was her way of holding things together from the depths of that misery.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry if I alarmed you,’ Arrina said, sitting up straight and folding her own hands neatly in her lap. ‘That wasn’t my intention at all.’

  Fiona gave a gentle nod.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ Arrina continued, ‘I have to inform you that the police are on their way over here.’

  Fiona did not respond to this. In the wake of her husband’s death, she had probably received several visits from the police, and so another was nothing significant.