‘No, that’s right. We’d never have done that. We just wanted to frighten him.’
‘We were defending our way of life, that’s all,’ said another.
‘By attacking an innocent man?’
‘He was dangerous to us. He was coming back here to live. I heard Sister Gertrude inviting him to stay. We wanted to make it clear he wasn’t welcome.’
‘How did you hear? It was in her private rooms.’
‘I was outside the window, listening.’
Felix glowered at them. ‘All right, I’m arresting the lot of you for assault and battery, false imprisonment and threats against the person. You may yet be charged with murder.’
As they were leaving the police station a large but youthful uniformed constable presented himself. ‘Constable Jenner, sir. I’ve been sent to guard a witness, a Miss Stickland.’
‘Ah! Excellent,’ said Felix. ‘Nice to meet you, Jenner. I’d best introduce you to the lady myself. I want to see how she is anyway. I’ll see you chaps back at the Inn.’
They walked up the hill to the school house, Felix giving the constable a summary of recent events. ‘I’ve never seen anyone so crushed by their loss,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to be very gentle with her. Her friend Miss Burt is easy on the eye apparently, so the job has its compensations. Do you like dogs?’
‘Love them, sir.’
‘Good. There’s a cocker spaniel.’ He knocked at the door, provoking a storm of barking.
‘Not sure I’m needed,’ quipped Jenner.
Lizzie Burt was indeed an attractive young woman and he was aware of Constable Jenner pulling his shoulders back and surreptitiously straightening his tie. No doubt he would polish his shoes on the back of his trousers when not observed. ‘How is Miss Stickland?’ said Felix, glad to leave the “Sister” nonsense behind. ‘Could you ask her if she’ll see me?’
Despite Nash’s optimistic report, it could not be said that Alice looked much better to him, but she received him bravely enough and led him through to the empty schoolroom. It was very warm there. Dusty shafts of sunshine from the high windows fell on the blackboard and rows of ink-stained desks. ‘Are you comfortable here?’ he asked. ‘I must tell you that your parents are eager to have you back.’
‘Do I have to go?’
‘Not unless they insist on it, and they haven’t done so yet. I won’t mention it unless they do.’
‘Thank you. I’d really rather stay for now. Lizzie is so kind and I feel safe here. Constable Jenner seems nice, though I’m not sure I need him really.’
‘So tell me, did you feel threatened in Eden? Physically, I mean.’
‘I can’t claim that, no, but there’s been a horrid atmosphere. I’m really glad not to be there at the moment. I’m missing Caroline though. Are they stopping her from seeing me?’
‘Not to my knowledge. It’s my impression that your sister does exactly what she wants anyway. She’s been extremely helpful to us since we arrived and I’m grateful to her.’
‘She always was the toughest. Has she seen Raymond at all? I know he’s not supposed to contact the family.’
Felix hesitated. ‘I believe they’ve met, yes. And no he’s not. You must keep that under your hat or he might find himself locked up.’
Alice smiled, not just out of politeness this time, and for a moment he had some inkling as to why Joe Dutton had dedicated his life to her.
‘So that’s what it is,’ she said. ‘I really don’t mind! I was never the least interested in him and I knew very well she wanted him, though she’d never say so. I’m happy for her. Tell her not to be so silly and come and see me.’
‘I certainly will. Miss Stickland, I have something I need to ask you, for which I apologise. I’ve noticed you’re wearing an engagement ring. It occurs to me that since you could hardly have worn it beforehand he must have given it to you that night. What became of its case? Do you have it, or did he put it in his pocket for safekeeping? It wasn’t on him when they found him.’ He saw the tears spring again to her red-rimmed eyes and he reached for another clean handkerchief.
‘Yes, he put it into his pocket. I can see him doing it.’ She accepted the handkerchief gratefully. ‘Do you have an infinite supply of these, Mr Felix? I must give them to you back.’
‘No, keep them. I’ve just bought a box from the village outfitter.’
‘I suppose I could do that,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been in there. It’s rather discouraged, I’m afraid.’
‘Why don’t you get Jenner to accompany you there, and perhaps open a bank account for your cheque while you’re out? You’re quite well off now, you know, and I’m sure Joe would have wanted you to take care of yourself. Your grandmother too, come to that.’
*
They ate their lunch in silence, each sunk in his own thoughts.
‘Comments, chaps?’ said Felix finally.
‘I doubt that lot murdered him, sir,’ said Nash. ‘We’d have been bound to get them eventually and they’d know that. Maybe it was someone who knew what these fellows were about and hoped to shift the blame onto them.’
‘Another of them working on his own, do you mean?’ said Yardley. He appeared to be cleaning something as they talked, flicking dried mud from it with his thumbnail.
‘Or not even that,’ said Nash. ‘Just someone else. Here, not on my plate! Have this ashtray.’
‘It pains me to say it but I’m inclined to agree,’ said Felix. ‘If it really was that bunch of idiots they’d have been taking a heck of a risk.’
‘Don’t forget, though,’ said Rattigan,’ they didn’t expect to be spotted. It was just their bad luck that Galbraith and the girl turned up. If they hadn’t, we might still have suspected it was one or more of the beggars but we’d have had a hard time proving it. However, if they’d planned from the start to kill him, it would be a queer way of going about it. Most likely it was an accident.’
‘Whatever else they did, I’m wondering if it was them that stabbed him,’ said Yardley. ‘They’re not allowed metal implements, unless their religion makes an exception for murdering people. No knives.’
‘That’s true,’ agreed Nash. ‘They were very particular about that.’
‘How do they manage?’ frowned Rattigan. ‘You need knives for just about everything.’
‘They use flint, like a caveman. It’s quite interesting. One of the fellows I called on was working on a piece of it and showed me. You can get quite sharp edges. You can make a knife of sorts that way – he had one at his belt – but I think the doctor would have recognised a wound from that.’
‘What a miserable existence, living in holes in the ground, wearing rabbit skins and bashing flints together. How is that supposed to bring you nearer to God?’
‘It’s your hermits, Teddy. Goes right back.’
‘Do they fast and pray?’
‘Not that I’ve noticed.’
‘Doesn’t count then.’
Felix sighed and drained his glass. ‘So we’re agreed they either didn’t do it, or didn’t mean to do it, or only one of them did it, or it was nothing to do with them at all. We’re almost worse off than we were before! What’s that you’ve got there, Paul?’
‘This? It’s a watch. I picked it up at that landslip. It’s in remarkably good condition. Not even scratched.’
‘Let’s have a look.’
‘If you use the eye of faith, sir,’ said Yardley, passing it to him, you can even make out an inscription.’
‘Anyone got a glass with them?’ asked Felix. ‘Thanks, John.’ He licked his finger and rubbed at the tarnished metal before squinting through the tiny hand-lens, raising and lowering it to get it in focus. Frowning, he did it again. ‘Well I’ll go to sea!’ he exclaimed. ‘What are the chances, eh? “To Harry,” with entwined love hearts, “from Clarice”!’
&n
bsp; ‘The absconding hubby!’
‘Probably a coincidence,’ growled Rattigan.
‘I thought you didn’t believe in them, Teddy.’
‘Common enough names.’
‘Clarice? I don’t know any.’
‘There was that forger’s wife.’
‘Her name was Clarrie.’
‘Well that’s Clarice isn’t it?’
‘It could be Clarissa.’
‘That’s Clara.’
‘Let’s think about this,’ interjected Felix. ‘What would the fellow’s wristwatch be doing in a cottage midden?’
‘It was only Diffey’s guess it was a midden, and it might not have come from there anyway. It could just have been lying lost on the clifftop.’
‘Isn’t it a bit well-preserved for that? Even the strap’s not bad.’
‘It was thick with clay, as if it had been buried in it.’
‘When did Harry clear off? Anyone know?’
‘I think Raymond said twenty years ago,’ said Felix, ‘although that’s probably approximate.’
‘Twenty years!’
‘He did say that,’ confirmed Rattigan, consulting his notebook.
‘It’s quite clear to me what happened,’ said Nash authoritatively. ‘His old woman murdered him and buried him there. That’s why the watch is so well preserved. Then she made out he’d run away.’
‘Aren’t you going to say the rest,’ said Rattigan, to general hilarity.
‘What rest?’
‘“Happens all the time.”’
‘Who says that?’
‘You do!’ they cried in unison.
‘Well I daresay it does.’
They made their way along the beach to the landslip. The tide was far out, leaving behind a glittering expanse of rock-scattered foreshore. One or two adults with small children were wandering upon it with shrimp nets.
‘While I think of it,’ said Felix, ‘keep your eyes peeled for an engagement-ring case. It’s black and grey. Joe had it on him at one point but it wasn’t on his body when found.’
‘Might be where he was beaten up.’
‘Or in his van.’
‘It could be anywhere that he’s been. Have a look around when you get the chance.’ They arrived at the landslip.
‘Larger than I remember. Where did you find it, Paul?’
‘About there, I think,’ said Yardley pointing. ‘It might have tumbled down from the top, of course, so was perhaps lying further back.’
Their hands shielding their eyes, they stared up at the towering landslip. The heap of fallen soil tapered to within about four feet of the top, with half-buried rocks, gorse bushes and scraps of brittle heather sticking out of it.
‘We can hardly sift through that lot,’ said Rattigan, ‘not without good reason.’
‘We don’t need to,’ said Nash. ‘Look!’
‘Where?’
‘Above the landslip — go up from it to that darker bit.’
‘Blimey!’ said Yardley. ‘You’re right!’
‘You’d best take a picture of that,’ said Felix. ‘Don’t draw attention to yourself.’
Chapter Eleven
Accompanied by Dr Legg and the four police officers bearing picks and spades, Howard Benyson, Chief Forensic Surgeon to Scotland Yard, all but skipped along the path through Home Wood. ‘I do love a nice burial,’ he said. ‘Twenty years, you say?’
‘About that, yes,’ said Felix.
‘And on Black Venn too! My cup runneth over.’
‘What’s Black Venn, sir?’ asked Yardley.
‘It’s what they call the cliffs hereabouts. Quite famous geologically, you know. It would be fascinating to learn how far he’s moved in the interim. I wonder if they realised he’d eventually emerge?’
‘I should imagine it was a rather hasty interment,’ said Dr Legg rather sourly. ‘Not the first thing on their mind.’
‘I don’t suppose it was,’ agreed Benyson, who knew a disgruntled colleague when he saw one. ‘Where will you be taking him, Legg — Dorchester?’
‘I?’ said Dr Legg, raising an eyebrow. ‘I’d assumed he’d be going to London.’
‘Oh, I see! Very well then, London it is. I don’t suppose the poor fellow will mind. Can we arrange transport, Felix?’
Deputed to find the exact spot, Sergeant Nash peered with trepidation over the precipice, his ankles firmly held by Rattigan while Yardley looked after his camera. ‘I don’t much care for this,’ he grumbled.
‘Serves you right for finding him,’ said Felix. ‘Can you see anything?’
As it happened, the mortal remains of Harry Dutton were almost beneath them, only the forearm and hand that Nash had spotted earlier sticking out of the cliff-face. Clearly the watch had dropped off his newly exposed wrist. ‘He’s just bones,’ he reported. ‘I thought there was a coat sleeve but it’s dried clay. Maybe it’s taken the shape of it. He’s only a few inches down.’
It was a difficult task, with the delicate skeleton threatening momently to tumble over the edge of the cliff. Eventually, however, they had it entire, save for a foot. Gingerly it was moved to the tarpaulin that was to be its shroud while the two doctors examined it.
‘If we must have them at all,’ muttered Nash, taking some preliminary pictures, ‘I prefer them fresh.’
‘Oh, but these old ones are so interesting, Sergeant,’ said Benysen, overhearing him. ‘Anyone can read the entrails, eh, Legg?’
‘Skull not bashed in anyway,’ observed Rattigan. ‘Makes a change.’
‘Stabbed,’ announced Dr Legg, kneeling up.
‘Frenziedly,’ agreed Benyson. ‘Several ribs cracked or nicked. Five, would you say?’
‘I make it seven stabs. Two on the right scapula.’
‘Ah, yes, so there are.’
‘Father and son, both stabbed in the back,’ said Rattigan. ‘You have to wonder.’
‘With a twenty year gap. Quite bizarre when you think about it,’ said Felix. ‘It ought to get us somewhere surely?’
George Bugler appeared. He’d left his basket of rabbit food at the warren and wandered over to watch, his thumbs tucked into his belt of his shaggy breeches.
‘And who are you, sir?’ said Benyson, amused. Felix introduced him.
‘A warren, eh? I’ll have to take a look.’
‘Can you give me ten minutes?’ said George suddenly. ‘Don’t cover him yet.’
‘I wonder what that was about?’ said Yardley as the old man shambled off towards the wood.
‘He’ll have known him of course,’ said Rattigan.
True to his promise, George was quickly back, leading by the hand, of all people, a terrified-looking Sophie Truscott.
This is going to matter, thought Felix, though he could hardly have expected what was to come. ‘Don’t anyone move,’ he ordered as Sophie arrived to gaze in horror at the grim remains. After a moment or two she began incoherently to gibber; then with a shriek she aimed a vicious kick at the skeleton’s pelvis. Rattigan put out an arm to keep an outraged Benyson from her as she sent the skull flying feet away before bringing her booted foot down on the rib cage with its precious evidence and stamping to splinters the arms and legs. Even when the destruction seemed complete she fell to her knees, her face barely human in its clenched hatred, and continued to pound the debris with both fists until she collapsed among it in a dead faint.
*
They had gathered in the Sticklands’ sitting room.
‘Will she be all right, Doctor?’ asked Sister Gertrude anxiously.
‘I’ve given her a sleeping draught, Mrs Truscott,’ said Doctor Legg, who never troubled himself with Sister this and Brother that. He turned a baleful eye on Rabbit George. ‘A dangerous gamble, Mr Bugler, if I may say so. Possibly
this business may prove cathartic for her. Equally, it may push her into insanity. If the latter, you will bear the blame.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Felix. I must remind you that we have another crime of murder on our hands. Who is going to provide me with an explanation? You, doctor?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘I cannot comment, I’m afraid.’
‘Patient confidentiality, I suppose?’
‘Yes. I know nothing, in any case, about the murder.’
‘Mr Bugler, what about you?’
‘Same as the Doctor,’ said George. ‘Sorry.’
‘Anyone else? No-one knew about this?’
‘We had no idea,’ said Brother Brian, apparently speaking for all of them. ‘We thought he’d run away.’
‘Where is Sister Mary? Might she know something about it?’
‘I doubt it extremely. She’s probably in her studio if you want her.
‘Then I’m going to look at my patient,’ said Doctor Legg.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Sister Gertrude. She turned as if to say something, appeared to think better of it, and left the room.
Benyson loaded the remaining shards of bone into his car. ‘It reminds me of those broken pots that archaeologists reconstruct,’ he said ruefully. ‘However, I’ll take a last look.’
‘Don’t waste too much time on it,’ said Felix. ‘I doubt there’s much that’ll be helpful to us now. See you later.’
‘Do you think they knew,’ said Rattigan as they watched him depart.
‘Hard to tell,’ said Felix, ‘Some interesting expressions on their faces, I thought, if only one could read them. Legg knows something, and Rabbit George immediately connected the discovery with Sophie, so she, or someone, must have confided in him.’
‘Rape, presumably?’ said Rattigan.
Felix nodded. ‘That seems the most likely explanation. Not much else would engender such intense loathing. If the assault was on Sophie herself, which given what we know about her it very likely was, and if it did happen twenty years ago, she’d have been just fourteen. The obvious inference is that someone killed him on account of it. It mightn’t have been anything to do with that of course, but the multiple stabbing suggests to me a furious, frightened or vengeful woman. Probably all three. One can’t rule out a man, but I think he’d have behaved differently.’
Death of a Serpent (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 8) Page 9
