Deadfall

by Lyndon Stacey

  'Now, sir!' the officer protested. 'You really have no grounds for those kinds of allegations . . .'

  'Everything all right?' His older colleague had returned.

  'Yes. Well, no. Lord Tremayne is suggesting . . .'

  'I'm saying I think it's very unlikely that Pepper's presence here has anything whatsoever to do with coincidence,' the Viscount said bluntly. 'The man is known to bear a grudge against me and it's quite obvious you need look no further for your arsonist.'

  Jim Pepper spluttered indignantly and the young policeman tried once more. 'But, the children . . .'

  'Oh, spare me that cock and bull story, I'm not interested!'

  'I think if you've finished with Mr Pepper and have his contact details, we should send him on his way now,' the newcomer advised. 'Lord Tremayne, Constable Diller. Could I have a word?'

  He moved away a little and, with a sour look at Pepper, the Viscount followed.

  'You heard the constable. Go,' Linc told the former estate worker. 'And from now on, stay off Farthingscourt land or there'll be trouble.'

  'You can't talk to me like that! Can he?' he appealed to the young PC.

  'I think you'd better go, sir,' the officer said, apparently deciding to fall in with the majority.

  Jim Pepper gave both of them a dirty look, hissed a number of expletives and something that sounded suspiciously like a threat at Linc, and stomped off.

  Linc sighed and turned his attention to the burning barn. Edging between the fire engines and the hedge he made his way into the farmyard, nodding to Reagan as he passed.

  The air was heavy with the acrid tang of smoke and Linc's eyes began to sting a little but there wasn't much to see. What was left of the barn was no longer burning but it would clearly be a long time before the three or four hundred bales of hay it had sheltered would stop smouldering. One of the two hoses still poured gallons of water through the beams that had once held the roof and, down below, half a dozen men in fluorescent-striped jackets raked hay out into the yard to be soused by the other hose. None of it could be salvaged. It was all such a waste.

  'There wasn't anything I could do,' Reagan stated, coming to stand beside him. 'I didn't get here till after the fire engines did.'

  Linc shook his head. 'Once it gets a hold on a haystack, there's nothing much anyone can do. I suppose you know it was Pepper who called them? Have you seen him around the place since that business the other day?'

  'No, sir. I would have told you if I had,' Reagan said a touch defensively.

  'Mr Tremayne, sir?'

  Linc turned to find Phil Sutton, the farmer, standing at his elbow. Stocky and bespectacled, he wore a permanently anxious expression, especially marked now.

  'I'm sorry, sir. I've only just got back. I had to take Cindy to the hospital for her scan, and I told the boys they could go when they'd finished. I didn't know how long we'd be but, honest to God, I thought the yard would be all right for half an hour with the dog here. He usually keeps folk out.'

  'Unless he knows them,' Linc agreed. 'It's all right, Phil. It can't be helped. Er, how many people knew you'd be at the hospital this afternoon?'

  'Quite a few,' Phil told him sheepishly. 'I reckon I told everyone at the pub, last night, I was that excited. They was placing bets on whether it'd be a boy or a girl.'

  'Never mind. How did it go, anyway? Boy or girl?'

  The farmer looked a little crestfallen. 'We still don't know. They couldn't see.'

  It was another twenty minutes or so before Linc and his father left South Lodge Farm, and thankfully Sylvester seemed to have given up the idea of visiting the mill that evening. They drove back to the house discussing the problem of Jim Pepper, and Linc went on to the Vicarage to find that Noddy and Magic had already been neatly plaited, and Ruth had all but finished loading the horsebox.

  He apologised unreservedly, helped check everything on board, then put up very little resistance before accepting an invitation to the house for a meal. Ruth had already been over to walk the cross-country course that afternoon, and went over it fence by fence with him during supper.

  The mood when they set off for the event the following morning was light-hearted. Quite apart from the usual excited anticipation of the challenges ahead, Abby was showing signs of increased brain activity, which her consultant viewed as very promising, and Ruth was buoyed up with optimism.

  Linc and she were joined in the cab of the horsebox by Nikki, who'd offered to groom for them both. Nikki had apologised very prettily to Linc the day after the dinner party. She confessed to having no memory of having behaved badly, and told Linc she was horrified when Crispin had informed her of it.

  'I hope I didn't mess things up between you and Josie,' she said, and Linc assured her with, it had to be said, less than perfect truth that it was all forgiven and forgotten. He had decided that, given time, Josie and he would sort things out, if indeed it were meant to be.

  An advance telephone call to the secretary, two days before, had furnished them with approximate start-times, two of which were fairly early in the running order. In addition to this, they had set out at the crack of dawn to allow Linc to walk the course before the competition got under way. Consequently there were only a handful of lorries and trailers on the field when they turned the Hathaways' horsebox off the road and bumped across the grass under the directions of several enthusiastic young stewards in fluorescent tabards. Linc preferred an early start; always supposing they opened proceedings promptly, it meant less time for the inevitable hitches and delays to build up. Once ready to go, being kept waiting for more than a few minutes can result in both horse and rider becoming stale and losing the keen edge needed for competition.

  On arrival, Nikki took charge of the horses whilst Linc and Ruth fetched their numbers and familiarised themselves with the general layout of the showground. Then, Linc set off to walk the cross-country course in double-quick time and Ruth, who was first to ride her dressage test, went back to the lorry to saddle Magic.

  Fifty minutes after arriving she presented herself at the arena, impeccably turned out in breeches, boots and black coat. Her long hair, neatly confined in a net, almost exactly matched Magic's gleaming chestnut hide and Linc thought they presented a lovely picture, which was only slightly marred by the mare's shying at the shiny white boards that marked the perimeter of the rectangular arena. Once they got started, however, they produced a very creditable test, which Linc knew he had little hope of matching. Magic was a lot more animated and her paces more showy than Noddy's.

  Twenty minutes later Linc rode his test, desperately trying to instil some sort of enthusiasm into his horse while giving an outward impression of tranquillity and effortlessness. He had limited success. Even though it was still early, it was set fair to be a warm day and Noddy wasn't inclined to exert himself unduly in a discipline which he considered a dead bore. The penalties steadily piled up and they left the arena with a cricket score, having turned many of the intended circles into oddball potato shapes, and cantered stubbornly round one end on the wrong lead.

  Nikki came forward to hold the recalcitrant horse and commiserate as Linc jumped down with a rueful smile.

  'Let's hope Hilary Lang wasn't around to see that!' he remarked, patting Noddy's brown neck.

  'That looked like hard work,' someone said, and he turned to see Dee Ellis approaching.

  'It was,' he agreed.

  'Well, my boy should be full of energy anyway. I've been giving him a few more oats this last week,' she told him.

  'More oats?' Linc nearly choked on the word. 'He . . . er . . . seemed quite perky last time.'

  'Yes, I know,' she said indulgently. 'But he's got more to do this time. I didn't want him to struggle.'

  Linc had his own ideas about who was likely to struggle but he kept his thoughts to himself. After all, the deed was done. There would be time enough to criticise Steamer's preparation when he blew his top in the dressage arena, as he might well do on that diet.

/>   Promising to rendezvous with Dotty Dee at her lorry in plenty of time to warm up for Steamer's test, Linc made his way back to his own box with Nikki and the horse, for refreshments. As they passed the end of the row of trade stands a brindle-coloured bullet hurtled out of nowhere and leaped up at Linc, causing the normally placid Noddy to side-step in alarm.

  'What the hell!' Linc exclaimed, swinging round.

  The dog sat on his foot, looking up at him with a wide grin.

  'Tiger!' Sandy Wilkes came striding over. 'Oh, it's you, Linc. He seems to have taken quite a liking to you.'

  'Yeah, looks like it. He should be on a lead round here, you know. You'll cop it, if you're spotted! What are you doing here anyway? Are you trading? I didn't see your stand earlier.'

  'Er, not officially,' Sandy admitted with a sheepish grin. 'But I'm letting it be known I'm parked in the car park if anyone needs anything.'

  'You'll be lynched if the other traders find out,' Linc told him. 'Look, would you like to get your dog off my foot, I've got horses to ride.'

  'Sorry.' Sandy hauled Tiger towards him and clipped a lead on to his collar. As he straightened up he looked critically at Linc. 'Hey, what happened to you?' he asked, gesturing at his own face by way of illustrating his question. 'That looks nasty.'

  'You should see the other guy!' Linc retorted. The outward signs of the attack had, for the most part, faded into insignificance but he still bore a scar on his cheekbone and a dark mark under one eye. The deep bruising to the muscles of his torso and upper arms was proving much slower to heal, and he viewed the looming challenge of coping with Dee Ellis's grey with something less than wholehearted joy. 'By the way, Ruth's here,' he said, changing the subject.

  'I know. I was on my way to find her. See you later.' With a cheery wave, and dragging a reluctant Tiger in his wake, Sandy struck off across the showground.

  When Linc finally did haul himself stiffly aboard Steamer, he was pleasantly surprised, as he remembered he had been last time, by the big grey's manners. In the dressage arena he was forward-going but tried hard to do as he was asked. His level of concentration was evident in the activity of his ears and the way he busily mouthed his bit, spewing gobs of foam down his broad, dappled chest. Unfortunately, concentration notwithstanding, excessive mouthing and tail swishing incur penalties, and Steamer finished his test with a very average score, but Linc warmed to him for his generosity of effort.

  He made a rapid change back on to Noddy and warmed him up for the showjumping phase, watching Ruth jump a clear round on Magic as he did so. Noddy, in his turn, jumped a careful clear and half an hour later was in the start box for the cross-country.

  Ruth had returned from her round some fifteen minutes earlier to report that in general the course was riding well but that fence five was a bit tricky and, further on, Magic had had trouble shortening for the low bounce into the lake. Linc had digested the information, trying not to dwell on Steamer's treatment of the bounce fence at Talham.

  As the steward began his countdown Noddy fidgeted and tried to rub his face on his knee. Linc pulled his head up and made him walk forward round the starting box. The horse's legs were liberally smeared with grease and he'd already managed to get some in his eye while they were waiting. Nikki had had to rinse it out with warm water. Linc didn't want to risk his doing it again.

  'Three, two, one – good luck!' the steward called cheerfully, and Noddy and Linc were off and running.

  The first three or four fences were relatively easy and the fifth was a combination of obstacles amongst the trees, which held no problems for Noddy. He skipped through with ease, and Linc patted his neck, pleased with him. Out here in the open country, with room to gallop and natural fences to jump, the lop-eared brown horse came into his own. He had a long, ground-eating stride, and the ability to adjust it to meet the jumps right, without being told. The bounce over two logs into the lake troubled him not at all, and he crossed the finishing line inside the optimum time and still full of running. Even though Linc knew his dressage score would keep him out of the placings, he was very satisfied with the horse's performance.

  He wasn't so satisfied with his own condition, however. Dismounting from Noddy he felt as if the stuffing had been knocked out of him and could only surmise that Beanie's attentions, the week before, had affected him more than he'd realised.

  Nikki took charge of the horse, running his stirrups up, loosening the girth and throwing a cotton sheet over his back to cool him down gradually.

  'Thanks, Nik, you're a star,' he told her, gratefully. 'Can I leave him to you? I'm just going to get a bite to eat before I tackle Steamer.'

  'No problem,' she said cheerfully, and departed for the lorry.

  He had, in fact, only twenty minutes or so to spare before warming the big grey up for action, and spent it buying hot, sweet coffee and a bag of freshly made doughnuts.

  'You'll get fat!' a voice commented behind him.

  Linc swung round.

  'Josie!' he declared delightedly. 'I didn't know you were here.'

  'I've only just arrived,' she said, smiling at him with no trace of her recent reserve. 'I got back from London at eight o'clock this morning. So, are you going to offer me one of those? The smell is making my mouth water!'

  Linc didn't bother analysing her behaviour. She looked gorgeous in designer-faded jeans and a stretchy slash-necked tee-shirt, and he was just over the moon that she was there. He held out the paper bag with its sugary contents.

  'Is this the proper diet for a model?'

  'Bugger that!' she announced. 'I'm starving! What's your excuse?'

  'Energy food,' he said succinctly. 'I'm due to ride Dotty Dee's horse in a minute.'

  He had told her about his previous encounter with Steamer, and now she frowned at him.

  'Are you fit for that?'

  'To be honest, I'm not sure,' he admitted frankly. 'I guess we'll find out.'

  Taking a chance, he reached for her hand as they walked back towards the lorry park. She didn't appear to object, and by the time he came up with Dee and Steamer, he was on cloud nine.

  The big grey's good behaviour lasted for the duration of the showjumping phase, which he completed with no additional penalties, but as soon as they began to prepare him for the cross-country his growing excitement was palpable. Dee checked his protective boots were fitting snugly and that the metal studs in his shoes were tight. Grease was applied to the front of his powerful, iron-grey legs, and his nose, mouth and eyes were sponged out with cold water. Finally, as Linc pulled on his gloves and mounted, she tied a bootlace from the headpiece of his bridle to his topmost plait.

  'There's a confidence booster,' he observed.

  'Better safe than sorry.'

  'What's it for?' Josie had been watching with interest.

  'It's to stop the bridle being pulled off over his ears if I fall off,' Linc told her.

  'Let's hope you don't need it.'

  'Amen to that.'

  Linc's number was called and he rode into the start box where Steamer stood like a rock with his head up and muscles quivering with nervous energy. With ten seconds to go, Linc took a stronger grip on the reins and turned him in a circle.

  'Three, two, one . . . good luck!'

  Dee and Josie echoed the starter's call and with a lurch Steamer was off, accelerating like a drag racer. Having experienced it before, Linc was at least not caught unawares, but he soon found that anticipation of the problem went almost nowhere at all towards coping with it.