The Games Keeper

by Jack Benton

  ‘Does Kenny know?’

  ‘Who knows what he suspected and what he knew? Colin’s been dead fifteen years. Don’t dredge this up, Slim. You’ll only hurt people. All three of those involved have gone, and Kenny’s a decent guy. He doesn’t need this brought up again. And it has nothing to do with this blackmailing business, does it?’

  Slim wondered otherwise, although there was no clear connection.

  ‘To be honest, I’m no closer to figuring anything out.’

  Clora rolled her eyes. ‘You think you’re being all detective, but tell me something you’ve found out that isn’t just an unearthed village rumour that’s been allowed to lie.’

  ‘I now think Dennis Sharp is dead.’

  Clora laughed. ‘I thought you thought he was alive?’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

  ‘Well, there’s genius at work right there. How much is Ozgood paying you? I think I might apply for a job.’

  Slim finished up his tea and left. The mockery in Clora’s tone had got to him, even though deep down it was deserved.

  He headed back up to Scuttleworth and called Don.

  ‘I need something else,’ he said, as Don came on the line. ‘This could be important, or it could be a waste of time.’

  ‘Thanks, so you’re passing it on to me?’

  ‘Um, yeah. I’ll get you back for all this, I promise.’

  ‘Go on, shoot.’

  ‘I need the coroner’s report on Steve Sharp and Colin Kent.’

  ‘Wow, easy. Anything else? The queen’s birth certificate?’

  Slim ignored the sarcasm. ‘A list of Oliver Ozgood’s employees for which income tax was paid. Ideally going back twenty years or so. Also, while you’re at it, anything else there’s a significant tax record on Ozgood for. Large purchases, donations, things like that.’

  Don was quiet a moment. Then, ‘All right. I’ll do what I can.’

  Slim stepped back as he hung up, getting onto the verge as a slick Ford four-wheel drive vehicle came around the corner. At the wheel, Kenny Kent gave Slim a wave, slowed as though to stop, before seemingly thinking better of it and speeding away.

  It was nearly half past two. Something about his frustration with Croad made Slim feel like running the old man late. He headed back to the community hall, made a coffee, and retrieved the book of school photos.

  Colin Kent appeared in four. Always standing, he appeared to shoot up as the years passed, losing his puppy fat, and indeed his smile, on the way. By the final photograph, taken just weeks before his death, he was a scrawny, dour kid. In contrast, Steve Sharp, labeled a few spaces along in one picture where he wore a beaming smile, looked lively, full of life.

  Slim stared at the photograph, willing it to reveal its secrets. Finally he shook his head, closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

  A blackmailer. Don’t forget, he reminded himself. He was supposed to be hunting a blackmailer.

  47

  Croad had a face like thunder. ‘So, what you’re telling me, is that six days before all hell is set to break loose, you still have no idea if Dennis Sharp is alive or dead? Have you learned nothing? Nothing at all?’

  Slim found it hard to speak to Croad. He wanted to reveal what he had seen, expose the old man, uncover what betrayals, unions, or sacrifices were being made by a young heiress bedding her father’s old caretaker.

  ‘I have several ideas, but I need more time.’

  ‘You don’t have any. Do you think this is just a game?’

  ‘I’m doing my best. Did you get me that list?’

  Croad grunted then pulled a crumpled sheet of paper out of his pocket and threw it down on the table. ‘That do? I couldn’t get pictures, but that’s all the names.’

  Slim picked it up. Around twenty-five people. Mostly names he’d never heard of, but there were some he had—Cathy’s husband Tom, and a few others from the parish council notes. Tina Tremlett was noted as “production line assistant”, and John Dovetail as “deliveries manager”.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘It’s something to work with.’

  Croad grinned. ‘He one of those? The blackmailer?’

  Slim saw an opportunity to set a lie that would at least keep Croad off his back while he figured things out. ‘That’s what I think. I think it’s someone close to Ellie. Someone who might know what she knew about Dennis Sharp.’

  He watched Croad’s expression, but if the old man suspected he had fallen under the radar of Slim’s suspicion, there was no sign. Slim could almost believe Croad’s liaison with Ellie was entirely innocent.

  ‘Anything else you need?’

  Slim nodded. ‘Yeah. A lift.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m expecting a delivery at the post office in Harton. It’ll be shut by the time I walk there.’

  Croad looked pained but nodded anyway. ‘Let’s go, then.’

  The old Marina cranked into life as Croad worked the gears. Slim patted the ancient car on the door, feeling the hinges slip under his press.

  ‘How old is this thing?’ he asked as the car suddenly misfired with a loud crack. ‘A hundred years?’

  ‘Had her fifteen,’ Croad said with a sense of pride, stamping the accelerator as the car threatened to stall during the hill climb. ‘Done me proud.’

  ‘Doesn’t Ozgood pay you enough to get it fixed?’

  ‘It’s character,’ Croad said. ‘I remember this time back in the reserves—’

  ‘Hey, isn’t that the way down to where Dennis died?’ Slim interrupted, pointing at a turning that sloped up and over the crest of a hill. ‘Mind if we have another swing past?’

  ‘If you’re sure your post office won’t shut,’ Croad said.

  ‘We’re good for a while,’ Slim said. ‘If you could step on it a bit that might be useful, though.’

  Croad scowled. He put the old car into first then swore as he made the turn, the front bumper scraping the hedge. ‘Used to be cut back a bit more,’ he said as he accelerated up the slope before slowing again as the car reached the first bend angling down into the forest.

  ‘Isn’t that your job?’

  Croad grinned. ‘I’m overworked.’

  The forest appeared around them. Croad, scowling as though feeling every bump on his skin, carefully negotiated the steep curve into the forest then pointed as the corner where Dennis Sharp had crashed came into view up ahead.

  ‘Clever of Ozgood to know the exact point when Dennis’s brakes needed to fail,’ Slim said, as Croad paused briefly before making the turn and heading on down the hill toward the ford. ‘I mean, with the roads around here, they could have failed at any time.’

  Croad pulled the car up just short of the ford. Slim waited for him to reverse into the turning space on the river’s right side, but instead he turned to Slim.

  ‘I’ve told you to watch your mouth,’ he said. ‘Someone could be listening.’

  Slim rolled his eyes. ‘Who’s going to have bugged your car?’

  ‘You never know. Just keep your mouth shut about all that.’

  ‘You know what I think?’

  ‘What?’

  Slim hesitated. Letting Croad know one of his theories was a huge risk, but it could work in his favour.

  ‘I don’t think there was any tampering done to the car. I think Ozgood ran him off the road, then let his little theory get around to build up his aura a little bit. It works in his favour to maintain a little fear among the community, doesn’t it?’

  Croad shook his head. ‘You’re crazy. Ozgood was wasting his time hiring you. If it was up to me, I’d kick you back to the street where you came from and hire someone with a decent track record.’

  ‘A good job it’s not.’ Slim tapped the dashboard clock. ‘Is that thing on time?’

  ‘Ten minutes slow, give or take.’

  Slim swore. ‘Post office shuts at five. I need that delivery today.’

  Scowling again, Croad turned the car around and headed back u
p the hill. He slowed briefly at the crash corner, frowning as he stared into the trees, perhaps wondering if Slim’s theory had any weight.

  They reached the post office with just a couple of minutes to spare, Slim feeling increasing frustration at Croad’s excessive caution down the country lanes. Alan, despite a shaky track record of sometimes playing tricks on Slim in the past, had seemingly come through this time: three heavy boxes waited for Slim’s collection.

  ‘What’s this?’ Croad asked, turning one over.

  ‘I can’t tell you right now but I’ll be charging any breakages to Ozgood.’

  Croad gave him a lift back. He pulled up outside the cottage and looked ready to leave, but Slim asked him to hold on while he unloaded the parcels. After safely locking them inside the house, he climbed back into the car.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Croad said. ‘I thought we were done.’

  Slim shook his head. ‘It’s nearly half five,’ he said. ‘Perfect timing to meet Ellie after work.’

  48

  With the exception of his very first meeting with Ollie Ozgood, in the three weeks he had lived in the forest outside Scuttleworth, this was Slim’s first time inside Ozgood Hall. As he sat in a reception room, his inappropriate attire for such an elegant place negated somewhat by Croad’s even scruffier appearance, he could only marvel at the untold wealth layering itself around him. Like a living museum, Ozgood Hall was wealth on top of wealth, tall ceilings and opulently sculpted walls surrounding antique furniture, musty wall hangings, and intricate, faded paintings.

  On his way in, Slim had passed through a more service-like entrance and glimpsed kitchens and a lounge more modern in style, but a sense of being out of place infiltrated every pore of his being.

  Then there was the feeling of anticipation. Ellie Ozgood was the forbidden fruit, the-one-that-must-not-be-involved. Slim had images of dragons, demons, and apparitions coming through the door, so that the girl herself, when she finally appeared, could never possibly live up to his expectations.

  He heard the taxi stop outside. The door opened. Croad’s muffled voice. Footsteps, then more doors opening. He stood up. Ellie marched into the room. She threw a bag over a chair before she even looked at him. Croad was hovering at her arm, looking so awkward that Slim couldn’t possibly imagine them as bed partners. Surely he had been mistaken. Then Ellie turned to him, and the coldness in her eyes sucked the heat out of the room.

  ‘John, isn’t it?’

  ‘Most people call me Slim.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘So, you’re my father’s latest game.’ She turned to Croad and asked for tea. Slim stared in disbelief as she actually snapped her fingers, as though calling a dog to attention.

  ‘Mr. Hardy prefers coffee,’ Croad said.

  Ellie just shrugged. ‘Bring whatever.’ She took a chair opposite then waited for Croad to disappear before speaking. Slim struggled to associate the waif-like girl he had seen by the window with this hard-faced version who seemed old beyond her years.

  ‘It’s a wonder it took you so long to come and see me, since I’m at the centre of it all,’ she said.

  ‘I was warned off. I think your father wanted to protect you.’

  Ellie sighed. ‘The story of my life. My mother passed away when I was very young,’ she said. ‘And with no other siblings, he was always obsessively protective.’

  ‘You said he was playing a game? What does that mean?’

  ‘All this about some blackmailer.’ Slim must have looked surprised, because she added, ‘Oh, did you think I didn’t know? Of course I know. I’m practically my father’s secretary. Do you know how many of these things he gets? There have been half a dozen this year already.’

  ‘So why did he think this one was different?’

  ‘Because, like most people, he’s scared of ghosts.’ She shrugged. ‘Do you even know where he is right now, while his whole empire is supposedly under threat? South of France. Some villa even I’ve never been to, most likely with some woman barely older than me. Does he seem concerned? You tell me you’re not part of some stupid game.’

  Slim leaned forward. ‘I can only do what I was asked to do,’ he said. ‘Do you think it’s possible that Dennis Sharp is still alive?’

  Ellie’s countenance darkened. ‘There’s no chance. That’s just a story. If Dennis was alive I’d know it.’

  ‘And why’s that?’

  Ellie looked about to reply when the doors opened and Croad came in, carrying a tray of drinks. Slim noticed he had changed his shirt and even appeared to have brushed what was left of his hair.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ellie said dismissively, not even glancing up at Croad. He lingered a moment, then realised he wasn’t welcome and withdrew. Ellie pulled her seat closer to Slim’s and whispered, ‘I guess he was told to keep you away from me.’

  ‘Something like that. He seems protective.’

  ‘He’s my father’s hands. He’ll do anything my father asks.’

  Slim took a sip of his coffee. It was sweet and weak, the opposite of how he liked it.

  ‘I was hired because your father thinks Dennis Sharp is still alive. The letters held information no one else could know.’

  Ellie laughed, a cold, bitter sound. ‘Anyone could get a copy of the police report. It wouldn’t be hard. I imagine you’ve seen it, haven’t you?’ When Slim didn’t answer, she continued, ‘I don’t know what he told you, but it wasn’t rape. I liked Dennis. I seduced him.’ She glared at Slim. ‘Isn’t that what bored, wealthy daughters do?’

  ‘If that’s what you say. I haven’t met any others.’

  ‘My father found out. He fired Dennis, but where was Dennis supposed to go? He grew up here, in the oppressive shadow of Ozgood Hall. My father made him homeless, kicked him out. My father wanted him convicted, but it wasn’t going to happen. I was only just sixteen. At first I felt coerced, but as time dragged on, I realised I could walk away and nothing would befall me.’ She shrugged. ‘So I did.’

  ‘But Dennis died.’

  As though Slim had found a chink in her armour, Ellie looked down, staring at the floor.

  ‘Yes, he did,’ she said at last.

  The question burned on Slim’s tongue, leaving him no choice but to ask it. ‘Do you think your father was involved in Dennis’s death?’

  Ellie was silent a long time. Slim was beginning to wonder if she’d even heard the question when she looked up and said, ‘No, I don’t. But he wishes that he was, and there are people around here who think that he was, and he’s happy for them to think that.’

  ‘Nothing like holding a healthy dose of respect for the local lord,’ Slim said.

  ‘Said like a true pauper,’ Ellie answered, even adding the hint of a smile. ‘If you want my advice, I’d pack my bags. You’ll find nothing but unhappiness here.’

  Ellie seemed finished with the conversation. She made some excuse about work to do then called for Croad. The caretaker dutifully appeared, gave Ellie a respectful nod then led Slim out to the waiting car. Its engine was running, the inside still warm as though Croad had anticipated he would soon be needed. A chilly wind had begun to whip through the trees, and as they entered it, the forest filled Slim with dread.

  Croad dropped Slim off outside his door, muttered, ‘I told you it was a waste of time talking to her.’ He then added something about coming by tomorrow. Slim nodded and got out, waiting as the car drove off.

  He knew before he entered the house that someone had been inside. He had stuck a piece of loose tape to the bottom of the door handle, and it had fallen to the floor. Inside, the hall looked the same, but the documents he had left on the table had been moved slightly. He had left two sheets of paper, one angled to the other but with an exact one centimetre distance between the two corners. Whoever had been inside had attempted to hide their passing, but not quite been accurate enough, the ruler Slim pulled from his pocket showing an extra half centimetre.

  He had talked to Ellie for about thirty minutes. Croad
would have had plenty of time to drive back down and have a look through Slim’s things. The car had been running when he went outside, but Slim had not heard it from inside the house.

  Croad was too obvious an answer, though. He had time to come down here and get back, but how could he have known how long Slim would spend talking to Ellie?

  But if it wasn’t Croad, who could it have been?

  Behind him, the front door creaked, suddenly inching open. A gust of wind blew through, disturbing the papers on the table. Slim was sure he had closed the door, but it was loose on its fittings. Perhaps no one had been inside the house after all. Perhaps the wind had shifted the papers and was playing tricks with his mind.

  He moved to shut it, but as he did it shifted a little further.

  Something lay on the mat outside.

  A tingle of fear ran down Slim’s back.

  A tiny doll, made out of twigs and straw.

  49

  With the one-off exception of the oak outside Ozgood Hall, Slim hadn’t done much tree-climbing since his army days. Luckily those surrounding the cottage had a lot of low branches, and once he was off the ground he found things easier. Still, by the time he had rigged the two motion-sensor cameras and suitably concealed the power cables he attached by an illegal socket to the power line accessing the cottage, his arms and back were aching.

  One viewed the front, the other the back. Triggered only by motion, they accessed via a cable Slim fed through a bedroom window a program on a computer tablet Alan had also provided. The screen was dark, but when Slim went outside and waved his arms about, he came back in to find a few seconds of recorded footage.

  He hid the tablet under his bed then ate lunch out of the box of provisions Ozgood had ordered for him. Unanswered questions continued to stack up, but Slim felt close to a breakthrough. If it was Dennis Sharp out in the woods, the cameras would show if he tried to get into the cottage. And if it was Croad after all, he would know that also.