Deadfall

by Lyndon Stacey

  'Oh, right. Of course. So, who do you want me to ring?'

  'I should think the police would be a good start,' Linc suggested drily.

  'Yeah, I guess so. What, nine, nine, nine? Or do you want your tame copper?'

  'Nine, nine, nine will do. You didn't see Reagan anywhere around, did you?'

  'Yeah, he's just coming. He called you on the mobile to say he'd got held up but I saw his pick-up coming just before I saw you.' The phone in her hand emitted a tinny voice and she put it to her ear. 'Er, police, please. And ambulance?' she queried, looking at Linc, who shook his head. 'No. Just police.' At the operator's prompting she gave details of their whereabouts and described the incident as attempted assault before ringing off, at which point Reagan came jogging up.

  Pepper, hearing the forester's footfalls and possibly recognising his imminent arrival as the point of no return, suddenly renewed his attempts to shift Linc's weight and, catching him by surprise, almost succeeded.

  'Jack! Get hold of his legs, will you? The bastard's so bloody strong!'

  Reagan obliged, and with a further string of abuse, Pepper became still once more.

  'What happened?' the forester demanded. 'What's he doing here?'

  'Waiting for me, apparently. But how he knew . . .' Linc didn't feel it was the moment to voice the most obvious solution to that question. 'What we could do with now is some rope.'

  'I've got some in the truck,' Reagan said.

  'What about the swing?' Nikki put in. 'If anyone's got a knife.'

  'I have.' The forester put his hand in his pocket.

  'Why cut it down?' Linc enquired. 'It's long enough. Why don't we just tie his hands and leave him attached? Save us holding on to him.'

  Pepper wasn't inclined to fall in with this plan but with the help of the burly Reagan, Linc managed to subdue his struggles long enough to bind him securely with the much-knotted but very tough blue nylon rope that formed the swing.

  When they finally stood back to survey their handiwork, Jim Pepper spat on the dirt at their feet and glared at Reagan.

  'I'll get you, you double-crossing bastard!' he swore. 'Nobody sets me up and gets away with it!'

  Linc glanced across at Reagan who shook his head and lifted his hands in apparent bewilderment.

  'I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't set him up!'

  Linc stifled his doubts. 'It's okay, ignore him. He's just trying to make trouble. Come away.'

  Nikki touched his arm.

  'Linc, you might want to see this,' she said quietly. 'I found it on the ground, just over there.' She had in her hand the piece of paper with which Pepper had taunted Linc earlier.

  He took it and walked out from the shade of the tree into the sunlight, reading as he went. Behind him, the bound man laughed unpleasantly and called out something. Linc took no notice.

  The note had been generated on a computer and printed on a sheet of A4 paper, of which the bottom half had then been torn off. It was not addressed to anyone, and said simply:

  Friday 2 p.m. The old oak tree, Piecroft Common. Do us both a favour, teach the bastard a lesson. JR.

  Linc frowned and read it through again. He looked up at Nikki and then at the forester, who was watching him intently.

  'What? What does it say?' he asked.

  Wordlessly, Linc handed it over and observed the play of emotions on the other man's face as he took in the meaning of the words.

  Reagan's dark brows dropped and his hand began to shake as he looked up at Linc.

  'Oh, no!' he said with great emphasis. 'No. You're not putting this on me! I had nothing to do with it! There could be any number of people with those initials.'

  'But not many who knew of our arrangement,' Linc pointed out. 'Unless you told anyone . . .'

  'No!' Reagan declared, then perhaps realising that he was digging himself deeper, 'I mean, I don't know. I might have done – I don't remember. But I've never seen this before.'

  Linc held out his hand for the note, and to his credit Reagan passed it over with only a moment's hesitation.

  'What are you going to do with it?'

  'I'm not sure,' he said, folding it and slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. 'I need time to think.'

  'There's nothing to think about. I didn't write that!' the forester protested, black eyes flashing. 'Why would I?'

  Only an inch or so taller but very much heavier, he gave the impression of towering over Linc, who could only be glad – if it had been a collaboration – that Reagan hadn't been there to back Pepper up.

  'Jack, calm down. I haven't accused you of anything yet. Though it would help if I knew why you weren't here at two.'

  'Some bastard let my tyres down; all four of them. It took me ages to pump them up. I've only got a foot pump at home.'

  'So you were at home with Lynne?'

  'Yes. No, Lynne was out or I'd have borrowed her car . . .' He tailed off, sounding defeated. 'You don't believe me, do you?'

  'Linc, the police are here.' Nikki saved him the necessity of answering, which was just as well because he wasn't sure what to say. Reagan's excuse sounded slightly implausible but maybe that was in his favour. Surely if he'd planned the whole thing, he'd have sorted out a more solid alibi.

  'Are you going to tell them?' Reagan asked urgently as they watched the approach of the police Range-Rover over the bumpy turf.

  Linc looked at his anxious face and shrugged. 'Pepper will if I don't,' he said. 'Sorry, Jack.'

  The Range-Rover pulled up beside them and two uniformed officers got out: one wiry and dark; one young, sturdy and blond. They looked vaguely familiar to Linc but he didn't know whether to be glad or sorry that it wasn't Manston or Rockley.

  'Well, well. Someone's been busy,' one of them commented, gesturing towards the tree and its attached prisoner. 'Doing our job for us!'

  'Well, I didn't think he'd wait around for you to arrive,' Linc explained. 'Not that you've been long, as it happens.'

  'We were just down the road in St Thomas,' the policeman said, leaving the village prefix off, as many of the locals did. 'Mr Tremayne, isn't it? Constable Diller – we have met.'

  'Ah, yes. The fire at South Lodge Farm,' Linc said, recognition dawning. 'In that case, you'll remember Jim Pepper, too.'

  'Indeed I do,' Diller said. 'We've heard quite a bit about Mr Pepper lately, from one source or another. What's he been up to this time? The girls on the desk mentioned attempted assault . . .'

  Linc outlined what had happened, including the discovery of the note, which he produced for their perusal.

  Diller read it, pursing his lips. 'JR. Any idea who JR might be?'

  'Those are my initials, but I didn't send it!' Reagan, who had been standing listening, obviously couldn't stand the tension a moment longer.

  Diller raised an eyebrow in his direction then turned his attention back to Linc. 'Who else knew of your meeting with Mr Reagan this afternoon?' he enquired.

  'I don't think I actually mentioned it to anyone but I did put it in the diary, so anyone with access to the office could have known. Mary – my secretary, my father, my brother Crispin, Nikki here, her mother, Geoff Sykes was in to see me earlier . . . A number of people. The door isn't locked on non-public days and the diary's usually open on the desk. But I can't see why any of them would have told anyone else about it.'

  'And Mr Reagan was late arriving for his meeting with you?'

  'Someone let down my tyres!' Reagan half-shouted. 'For God's sake, can't you see, I'm being set up?'

  'And who do you think would want to set you up, sir?' Diller responded calmly.

  'Well . . . I don't know!'

  The forester looked desperate, and Linc began to feel sorry for him.

  'Constable, I don't know what's going on here but I'm prepared to give Jack the benefit of the doubt for the time being. As I told you, he helped me deal with Pepper when he did get here.'

  Diller looked sceptical. 'Well, he couldn't do much else, with the
young lady here as a witness, could he?'

  Reagan stepped forward angrily at this and Linc put out a hand to stop him.

  'For goodness' sake, man! Don't make things worse.'

  Constable Diller gave Reagan a thoughtful look and turned to Nikki. 'And you, young lady . . .' He consulted his notes. 'Mrs Tremayne. You were first on the scene. Did you see anyone else at all when you arrived? Anyone on the road? You came from . . .?'

  'From St James,' Nikki told him. 'I was having my hair done and I came back this way to give Linc his mobile, which I'd picked up by mistake.'

  'And how did you know where to find him?'

  'From the diary in the office, like Linc said. It's not a private one.'

  'I see. Well, it's just possible that whoever wrote this note – feeling as he obviously does about Mr Tremayne – might have come to see the results of his mischief-making. You know, the way arsonists like to stay and watch the fire.'

  'Well, I don't remember having seen anybody,' she said, frowning. 'I don't think I even passed a car on the road – it's so narrow you have to pull in and I think I'd remember that.'

  'Hey! What about me?' Pepper had evidently begun to think that even police custody was preferable to remaining tied to a tree.

  'Read him his rights and cuff him,' Diller said to his silent, blond sidekick.

  'You gonna believe everything that ponced-up bastard tells you?' Pepper demanded. 'Just because his father owns half the fuckin' county?'

  'Are you suggesting that forensics won't find your prints all over that crowbar?' Diller asked. Then, when Pepper's only answer was another bout of swearing, 'No, I thought not.'

  'I saw someone,' Reagan interjected suddenly. 'Yeah, I remember now. When I got out of the truck I could have sworn there was someone in the trees at the edge of the copse. It was just like a quick movement, but when I looked again I couldn't see anything. I'd forgotten about it with all this going on.'

  The constable pushed his peaked cap back and scratched his head. His expression was openly disbelieving but he said patiently, 'Well, I suppose we'd better take a statement from you too, Mr Reagan. Exactly where did you think you saw this . . . person?'

  By the time Diller and his quiet colleague had finished, Linc had had more than enough of the affair. Pepper was cut free of the rope swing and pushed, protesting, into the police Range-Rover, provisional statements had been taken and signed and eventually the two officers and their prisoner had departed across the common to the road.

  Linc looked at Reagan, who was gazing bitterly after the disappearing vehicle.

  'Well, Jack?' he said after a moment. 'What about this bloody tree?'

  Having got his phone back from Nikki, Linc found a number of messages on it, including one from Nina Barclay, asking if he was still okay to ride Hobo on Sunday, and one from Barney Weston, inviting Linc to accompany him to the track again and updating him on the progress of his young greyhound. There was also one from Josie, saying that Sandy had taken delivery of the replacement tack they had all been waiting for and would be at the Vicarage that evening to fit it, if that was convenient.

  Returning the calls, Linc confirmed his availability to ride Hobo, ignoring the little voice inside that was telling him that he must be running close to the edge of his father's tolerance where days off were concerned. Josie's phone was switched off but rather than ring the house and risk one of the others answering, he left a message to say he'd certainly be at the stables for Noddy's saddle-fitting.

  In the event, he arrived at the Vicarage before Sandy did, and found Hannah sitting in the tackroom eating a packet of crisps. Linc was surprised. She wasn't in the habit of frequenting the stables for fear of being roped into helping out.

  'Hello. Where is everybody?'

  'They're washing up and stuff,' she told him between munches. 'Sandy's coming about half-past.'

  Linc looked at his watch – twenty-past seven – and decided to give Noddy a brush over whilst he waited. He collected his grooming kit and a headcollar and went along to the brown horse's box, followed closely by Hannah who seemed disposed to be chatty.

  Noddy was engrossed in a full haynet but turned his head enquiringly as Linc went in. He was still moving stiffly after his fall the previous weekend and Linc was beginning to think that his injuries would have to be investigated further.

  As he set to work on Noddy's gleaming coat, Hannah kept up a rather one-sided conversation about anything and everything that came into her busy head. She didn't seem to require any more than sporadic input from Linc and he was listening with no more than half an ear to her disconcertingly sharp observations about the world and people around her when mention of Josie's name made him snap to attention.

  'What did you say?' he asked sharply.

  'They say Abby can come home soon. They just want to do a few more tests.'

  'No, after that . . .'

  'Oh. Well, Daddy says it's a shame Josie's got so fond of you because it'll upset Abby if she keeps bumping into you, but they can't really ask you to take Noddy away because of upsetting Josie.' She regarded Linc with her astute brown eyes, probing for a reaction. Apparently it didn't come up to her expectations and she tried again. 'Personally, I think Abby's a drama queen and should just get over it.'

  Linc frowned at her. 'That's a bit hard, don't you think?'

  'Well, it's obvious it wasn't you who hit her,' she said. 'Anyone can see that.'

  'Thanks.'

  'Well, you wouldn't need to break in, would you? You've got a key,' Hannah reasoned, brutally frank as always.

  Linc hid a smile. 'Your sister isn't thinking straight at the moment. It's not really surprising after all she's been through, is it?'

  'Hannah!' The shout came from the direction of the house, and as Hannah turned, Linc looked over her shoulder and could see Ruth coming across the yard. 'Where did you get to, you lazy little cow? One sight of the washing-up cloth and we don't see you for dust!'

  'I was talking to Linc,' Hannah said defensively.

  'Consorting with the enemy,' Linc put in with a touch of bitterness.

  'Oh, Linc, that's not true!' Ruth said reproachfully. 'No one believes that.'

  'Daddy does,' Hannah announced.

  'No, he doesn't!' her sister exclaimed. 'And neither does Mum. Don't listen to her, Linc. She's just a troublemaker! And it's high time she grew up and learned to keep her mouth shut!'

  He was inclined to agree but the fact remained that Hannah, for all her faults, was invariably truthful, and so he had to believe what she said she'd heard.

  The arrival of Sandy's lorry precluded further conversation. As the engine noise died away, he opened the driver's door and jumped out, preceded by Tiger, who homed in on Linc with squeaks of joy, his stumpy tail wagging furiously.

  'Ah, you've got a friend for life there!' Sandy called out, and Linc pulled his foot out from beneath the muscly rump and wished the thought gave him more pleasure.

  'Ruthie m'darlin',' Sandy greeted her, putting his arm round her shoulders and planting a kiss on her cheek. 'How are you?'