Whisper the Dead

by Stella Cameron

  Showing offence, or worse yet, annoyance, would only make this woman more certain she was right – which she was – at least about past cases in the area.

  Alex frowned thoughtfully. ‘You know, I think it’s all very puzzling. And the police may be puzzled, too. I don’t have the faintest idea what happened.’ Soon she might be able to give lessons in how to pontificate and say absolutely nothing.

  ‘Bob’s so upset. Beside himself, really. He seems to think he should have been able to get Lance out but some suggest it would have been too late regardless.’

  Alex inclined her head at Esme. ‘What does that mean?’

  The woman shrugged eloquently. ‘I’m not sure, but what do you think? Could they be suggesting Lance was dead before the fire, so getting to him wouldn’t have made any difference?’

  Alex wanted desperately to ask who the ‘some’ were but decided that was a question she’d share with Tony. Then they’d decide if O’Reilly and Lamb might be interested in the comment.

  ‘I have no way of even guessing what that suggestion might mean,’ Alex said. A cold frisson climbed her spine and she looked around. For an instant she’d thought there was someone watching her but the three of them were the only people in the bar now.

  Esme cleared her throat. ‘I think … oh, I mustn’t speculate.’ She stopped, waiting, probably hoping Alex would jump in, which she didn’t. ‘Well, the fire could have been set to destroy evidence – to make it so they couldn’t be sure how Lance died. The body must have been just about incinerated. Those trailer fires are infernos I’ve heard.’

  ‘It did go up pretty fast,’ Alex said. ‘But the fire department got there quickly and they did a wonderful job. They saved more than I would have expected.’ She recalled the way a group of firemen gathered in a circle around something on the ground a little distance from the trailer. It could have been a body. Or they could simply have been having a discussion.

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Esme swallowed more of her drink. ‘They’ll have to look for signs of arson. Oh, damn, I’m worried.’ She put a hand over her eyes and propped her elbow on the table.

  The sensation of contracting skin attacked Alex again, more ferociously. She must be even more upset than she’d thought. Little wonder with Lily having done a runner.

  Alex put a hand on Esme’s shoulder and rubbed gently. She looked sideways at Audra who had turned her face partly away – although behind the almost opaque shield of the glasses, her eyes, at a strained angle, were trained on Alex. She was being watched again, covertly this time.

  ‘Perhaps I should get you home,’ Audra said, looking fully at Esme. ‘You’re overwrought.’

  ‘I hate that word. So Victorian.’ Esme leaned very close to Alex and all but whispered, ‘I know I shouldn’t say this, but I have to trust the ones who understand. I’m afraid they’re going to try pinning this killing on Bob. They could say he was only pretending about trying to get in to rescue Lance. Couldn’t they? They could try to prove Bob killed him, then set the fire to cover it up.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Audra said. The woman had good ears, Alex noted. ‘And I suppose Bob murdered that Darla person, too, whoever she was.’

  Esme made a strangled choking noise.

  ‘Who owns the Bentley Mulsanne?’ Hugh called delightedly, coming from the gaming room on the other side of the pub entryway. ‘That is one gorgeous piece of car flesh.’

  ‘For my sins, it’s mine,’ Audra said. ‘Which reminds me, we’d better get back, Esme. I’d rather drive while there’s still fairly decent light.’

  Alex frowned at the white scene outside the nearest window. ‘My mother is still out. She’s so independent but I don’t like her driving around in this.’

  Esme chuckled. ‘We do all worry about the people we love.’

  All three of them rose from their chairs. Esme opened her bag to get her wallet.

  ‘On the house,’ Alex said. ‘It was lovely to see you again. And to meet you, Audra.’ In fact she wasn’t sure she liked the woman at all.

  ‘Don’t forget the entries for naming our new village pub,’ Esme said. ‘I’ll pick them up in a few days if that’s all right. I’ll call to remind you.’

  With an unpleasant feeling that she’d rather Esme didn’t come back, Alex nodded and busied herself replacing chairs. By the time she’d picked up empty glasses and her own mug, she and Hugh were alone.

  ‘So what was that all about?’ he said.

  ‘It felt funny to you, too? Well I don’t get it at all and I don’t think I want to.’

  ‘I heard most of what was said. Could it be that Esme Hill would like to find a sympathetic witness to be on her husband’s side?’

  Alex thought about it. ‘You could have a good point. How horrible if it was Bob Hill who caused the fire … but it wasn’t. I hardly know him but I don’t make such monumental mistakes about people. Not usually.’

  She carried the empties into the kitchen and pulled a folded note addressed to her from the cork board.

  Gladys had written, ‘Your mum called and said she would come home soon. She was sorry to be so late.’

  ‘A message from my mum and I wasn’t here. Darn it. How long ago?’

  Hugh shook his head. ‘Hours, I suppose. Before I sent Gladys home and that was around one this afternoon.’

  FIFTEEN

  ‘Good night for housebreaking,’ Hugh murmured in Alex’s ear.

  She gave him a questioning glance. ‘Weird thing to say.’

  ‘Think about it. There’s nobody home. They’re all here.’

  Alex smiled. If her mum had shown up or called, she could have coped with anything. Lily still hadn’t checked in again. ‘Ha, ha.’ She hadn’t been in the mood to smile for what felt like forever. ‘Good night for us if it keeps on as it’s started out.’ The bar was full and so was the up-room – the overflow area one step up from the main saloon bar where customers often ate at high-backed wooden banquettes around scarred tables. Ceaseless ringing came from the slot machines in another room.

  ‘The roads are too bad to encourage people to go far,’ Hugh said. He swiped a cloth along the counter, took an order and started pulling pints.

  ‘What will you have?’ Alex asked Kev Winslet, gamekeeper at the Derwinter estate.

  ‘What I always have,’ Kev shouted over the din. ‘Pint of the best, please. Where’s your mum? Not feeling good?’

  Her mother rarely ventured far from the pub on nights like this when it was busy. Especially in bad weather. ‘She’ll be in soon enough,’ Alex said, silently praying she was telling the truth. ‘There you go.’ She slid Kev’s beer in front of him.

  ‘We heard there was a swanky Bentley out front earlier. Don’t see many of those around here. Tell me it’s yours, Alex. I’d love to spread that around. Major Stroud takes whisky, right?’ When Alex nodded, Kev said, ‘Make it a double. He’s an interesting sod and I like having the familiar bunch around me. And a half of black and tan for Frank Lymer – the big drinker. He’s waiting for Gladys to show up. All he talks about is what a whizz she is at cooking breakfasts. We’ll all have to come and give it a try.’

  She pulled fresh glasses from overhead and smiled at him. ‘You must be short of gossip, Kev.’ Alex grinned up at him. He was florid, big and getting bigger. ‘Sorry I can’t oblige on the Bentley, although I wish I could,’ she said to him.

  ‘A Bentley Mulsanne, was it?’ A young man wearing a heavy wool overcoat leaned to put an elbow on the counter beside Kev. ‘White?’

  Kev looked at him. ‘I reckon it was. Don’t tell us it’s yours.’ He guffawed.

  ‘I think it’s my mother’s friend, Lady Mekins’s,’ the man said, unruffled. A green paisley silk scarf hung loose around his neck. ‘I haven’t seen another one like it in the area – or anywhere in the sticks come to that. I’m Grant Hill.’ He stuck out a hand and Kev changed his beer to his left hand to shake.

  Of course. Now Alex recognized him and remembered Hugh talking about the Be
ntley. ‘I’m glad you made it back to us,’ she said. ‘Your mother and her friend were in earlier.’

  Grant smiled and she could see strong signs of his mother’s good looks. The girl with him didn’t look old enough to be in the bar but Alex waited for a less conspicuous moment to check.

  ‘My sister, Carmen,’ Grant said. ‘And she’s nineteen even if she does look about nine.’

  His sister punched his arm lightly and slid her driving license out. They had the same chin and mouth but Carmen was fair and very feminine.

  Alex glanced at the license and immediately remembered Esme Hill saying her daughter was nineteen.

  ‘We came on a mission,’ Grant said. ‘We risked life and limb to get here rather than keep on listening to Ma and Pa nag. I’ll have half of Guinness – I’m driving – and Carmen likes a Babycham.’ He made a face and got a harder punch to the arm for his efforts.

  Major Stroud, red faced and doing his customary roll from heels to toes, butted in and took his whisky from Kev. ‘Thank you, old man,’ he said, slurring a little. ‘Awfully good of you, I must say.’

  Alex got the Guinness and looked under the counter for a Babycham. It used to be one of the most popular drinks with the ladies, or so they said, and it was coming back, also so they said. She found the green bottle with the blue label and a picture of a stylized golden doe on the front, and poured the popping champagne-style liquid into a matching glass. ‘There you go.’ She smiled at Carmen. It was rather sweet to see a youngster choose such an innocent drink. Alex still liked it herself.

  ‘So what brings you here on a ghastly night like this?’ she said to Grant.

  Hugh served steadily but she felt she needed to be hospitable.

  ‘We have to decide on a name for the pub at the new village. I’m hoping some customers here may have given their ideas. The prize is a good one.’

  She smiled at Grant. He remained straight-faced as he looked around the room. Then he caught her eye and grinned.

  ‘Juste Vidal, our helper extraordinaire, did pass out the entries,’ Alex said. ‘And he left some extras out. Let’s see if anyone brought them back.’

  A couple came into the bar and she barely remembered not to stare. Bill Lamb ushered Radhika, Tony’s Indian assistant, across the room. Alex started coughing and took a drink of water. This was a first.

  With his hand at Radhika’s back, Bill guided her to the table by the fire where Harriet and Mary Burke sat with their one-eyed cat, Max. She watched the interchange when Radhika got there. Bill bent over the sisters to say something and they smiled as if delighted. He pulled a chair from another table for Radhika to sit with the ladies. Gold threads in her purple sari glinted. When she looked at Bill her lovely eyes shone. The light touch he passed over her hair made Alex’s tummy turn. Bill was heartless, right? A mean-mouthed clod who could make anyone feel guilty, even when they’d never done anything wrong.

  He came to the bar. ‘Could I have two Harvey’s Bristol Cream sherries and an orange juice please?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, smiling at him.

  ‘Perhaps I could have a rum and coke for myself. I’ll come back for it shortly.’

  ‘Will do, Bill.’ She made sure her face showed no particular reaction. ‘Busy days for you, I expect.’

  ‘No rest for the wicked. But that’s the way I like it.’ She had put the juice and sherries on a tray and he carried them away.

  Hugh rang the bell on the counter and raised his voice. ‘Any entries for naming the pub at the new village near Winchcombe?’ Obviously, he had heard what Grant said and wanted to do his share. He knew how much Alex disliked announcing anything.

  People started to leave their tables and come forward. Folded entries were placed on the counter. Even Frank Lymer, bundled in a hand-knitted muffler and a tweed cloth cap, surreptitiously approached and added an entry.

  ‘I’m surprised,’ Hugh muttered. ‘I thought they’d all ignore it.’

  ‘A thousand pounds will buy more than a fish and chip dinner,’ Grant said.

  Alex stared at him, wondering if he was making a dig at the Black Dog’s clientele. ‘Not much is better than a good feast of fish and chips,’ she said. She didn’t look at anyone else when she said it.

  At last the entries stopped coming. ‘Read some of them,’ Grant said. ‘Entries don’t close for a few days. These will inspire competition.’

  ‘You do it,’ she told him. ‘It’s your contest.’

  The way he leveled a stare at her was odd. ‘Evening, everyone.’ He raised his voice and the din quieted. ‘I’m Grant Hill. We’re the ones building a pub over at our new village near Winchcombe. This is great. Lots of you have given your ideas. I’ll read a few of them and then you’ll know what you have to beat by the time the contest closes in a few days.’

  The shift in the bar atmosphere didn’t feel comfortable.

  ‘This is clever,’ Grant said. ‘Through a Beer Glass Darkly.’

  From the silence, Alex got the impression that the effort fell flat.

  ‘Winchcombe Arms,’ Grant read loudly. ‘And here’s a lovely one. Certainly brings some images to my mind. Horse and Bottoms.’ He sniggered and was joined in the laughter. ‘Bottoms Up. Now that’s good.’

  Even Alex thought that wasn’t bad.

  She suddenly wanted him to wait until the competition closed. This felt painful.

  ‘The Dancing Squire. The Lords’ Revenge. Fish and Pickle. Now there’s a show stopper.’

  Applause followed and cries of, ‘That’s it.’

  ‘The Cork and Bottle,’ Grant continued. ‘The Happy Cow. The Badgers’ Retreat. The Cats’ Meow.’

  Immediately Alex looked to the Burke sisters who smiled and averted their eyes. Her traitorous dog had wheedled a place on Bill Lamb’s lap. Bogie had a soft spot for policemen.

  ‘For Those Who Serve. Very nice,’ Grant said with a sly glance at the major who tried to look detached.

  ‘And Blithely Blunder Inn. Ooh, I like that, don’t you?’

  The crowd applauded and Alex concentrated on the beer she was pulling.

  ‘You?’ Hugh said in her ear.

  ‘Might be,’ she said. ‘Might not be.’

  He started to laugh but stopped abruptly. ‘Well, look who’s here. Is this what you were hoping to see, or do you wish they had used their heads and avoided coming into the bar like this? Just wait for the gossip now.’

  Lily walked from the kitchens with Dan O’Reilly at her shoulder. Tony was only steps behind and Katie almost tripped him up when she made a dash for the bar room, weaving through legs to get to the fireplace and Bogie.

  The glass in Alex’s hand started to slip and she set it unsteadily on the counter. Grant Hill’s was the first face she saw clearly and his half smile could have been knowing – or it could just have been a smile. ‘Don’t forget your Guinness,’ she said in the most level voice she could achieve. He drank, his gaze never leaving hers.

  The crowd at the bar pressed in, calling orders. There wasn’t time to speculate. Alex worked steadily until she felt Tony beside her. He squeezed the back of her neck gently. ‘Take it easy,’ he said quietly. ‘You look anxious. I drove into the car park behind Lily and Dan. He came in his own vehicle. There was no chance to ask what was going on.’

  ‘Why doesn’t my mum come and say something? Why doesn’t she help out? She’s been gone all day.’

  ‘I know she has but I’m a pretty good pair of extra hands,’ he said, leaning toward the next customer who ordered something Alex didn’t hear. ‘Two gin and orange coming up,’ Tony said.

  ‘If Lily’s got a lot to tell you, she won’t want to make any fuss in front of everyone,’ he said, reaching for clean glasses. ‘Especially Dan. Give it a chance to calm down a bit and the two of you can talk on your own.’

  Alex set out a long breath. ‘You’re right.’

  ‘Has something happened, Sweetheart? Even Hugh looks wound up.’

  She rubbed his arm.
‘I’ll tell you later. It’s been strange although I could be imagining things. I hope I am. Almost forgot, Bill brought Radhika in. They’re sitting with the sisters. That’s a first.’

  ‘I’m damned.’ Tony avoided looking toward the fireplace. ‘We both know there’s something going on between them, but you don’t see them anywhere together. I never expected to see them in here – or should I say, I wouldn’t expect Radhika to agree to come with Bill.’

  ‘See all these?’ Alex tapped the pile of entries Grant Hill had left on the counter. ‘This name contest puzzles me. I’m trying to convince myself the Hills are just trying to be nice because I helped Bob Hill during the fire. I don’t know, though, Tony. A thousand pounds prize for coming up with the name of a pub seems a bit much.’

  ‘Yeah. A bit ridiculous, but I think they can afford it.’

  She stared up at him and raised her brows.

  ‘OK, they seem keen on being best friends with you. Could be something devious about it – maybe not. I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s Mr Hill’s children, talking to Fay Winslet. Grant and Carmen.’

  ‘I didn’t think the Hills lived around here,’ Tony said.

  ‘They don’t. They’re from Temple Guiting, or that’s where the family has a home. I doubt they’re there all the time. Esme Hill and her friend were in here earlier. Hugh heard them asking me questions. He wondered if Esme was looking for a tame witness to be on her husband’s side. Makes me feel strange, but she honestly didn’t say anything obvious.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean she wasn’t fishing,’ Tony said. ‘Look, I’ve been wanting to say this so I better spit it out. I wish the Hills would stay away. I wish they would never come near you again.’

  She bowed her head. ‘Because you think they could spell trouble.’

  ‘I suppose. I can’t help wondering what the story is behind the two deaths the police are investigating. And the Hills are connected somehow, even if only because the dead man worked with Robert Hill.’