‘So just out of the kindness of your heart you offered them the research centre?’ she said incredulously.
‘It wasn’t quite just that,’ he said quietly. ‘No, there were other considerations. Mainly that Julie, one of the girls, is – was – my cousin.’
Oh hell, thought Zeugma lugubriously. Am I going to be proved wrong again ? But Lakenheath was far from triumph, she realized. He was sitting staring into the cold hearth with eyes that did not see the ashes.
‘We were always very close as kids,’ he continued. ‘We more or less grew up together just a couple of streets apart. Even when she went out of the system and I went into it, we kept in touch. A postcard, a letter, the occasional phone call and sometimes a meeting. She set off drifting early, the usual route I think, London first, then down to St Ives and from there, God knows where. She popped up all over the place. Always looking for the perfect alternative. As I say, I heard from her at fairly regular intervals, occasionally there was even a return address and I could write back. I let her know about my own change of job naturally. Not that she would approve. She’s like you in that way. But not in any other. She’s tall, very slender, long blonde hair, always looks as if the wind’s picked her up and is blowing her along.’
Thanks, thought Zeugma. The unconscious insults are always the worst.
‘Last November she turned up here, in Brampton. Just to say hallo, you understand. She never asked for anything. The other three were with her, they’d just joined forces on the road, I gather. There’s a strange community feeling among these people, nothing to do with camp-fire jollity or self-congratulatory socialism; something simpler and more tenuous, with no questions asked. They were travelling and living in an old truck that was almost on its last legs, okay for the long hot summer, but an ice box in winter. I’d have put them all up if I’d had a place of my own, but the hotel’s too small to get away with even one extra body in your room.’
‘You sound expert,’ Zeugma interrupted but he ignored her.
‘I thought of the office, but the same applied there. Imagine Miss Peat’s face ! Then it struck me. The research centre. All that lovely space in the fever hospital ! And the electricity was still switched on so that I could display its complete charms to visitors. So one dark November evening when all decent folk were in front of the television, I led the way out there, unlocked the gates and set them up. It was just for a few weeks, till the worst of the winter was over. No one was going to want to look over the place till the New Year. In fact from the look of my files, no one seemed keen on looking over it any time in the forseeable future !
‘Everything was fine. They had a little bit of cash and I usually did the shopping for them, supplementing their stuff as much as I could afford to. All went smoothly till Sayer decided to do a private tour of inspection. Christ ! the bloody row there was ! Julie managed to give the impression that somehow they’d found their own way in and said they’d pleaded with me to let them stay there a couple of nights on humanitarian grounds. At least that’s what I gathered from Sayer when he came back like an avenging fury, shrieking for my blood. He’d told them to pack up and go, he yelled at me. And he felt like telling me to do the same. I didn’t have to say much, he did all the talking. But I felt like telling him to stuff the job and joining Julie and her mates on the road.
‘Next day I drove out to the centre to hear their version. But when I got there the place was deserted. They’d gone. I was disappointed, naturally. But I just thought they’d taken Sayer seriously and decided to get out before he turned up with the police. The truck wasn’t licensed or insured, I suspect, and they wouldn’t want to brush with the law.
‘That was in mid-January. Every day I expected some message from Julie. And when nothing came on Valentine’s Day, I began to get really concerned.’
‘Valentine’s Day?’ queried Zeugma.
‘My birthday. I’d heard from Julie on February 14th every year since I could remember. So I went and saw the police. They were polite, but not very helpful. Hippies rate alongside gypsies as somebody else’s problem. But they checked on the vehicle – road accidents, that kind of thing – and assured me nothing was known. Meanwhile I went back up to the centre and had a good look around. I found various items, some clothing, a pair of Julie’s shoes, stuff I didn’t think she would have wanted to leave. So back to the police I went and that’s when the great explosion occurred. Poor Sergeant Fell got most of it, I’m afraid, though he was least at fault. But it was clear that if I was going to get anything done, I’d have to start it myself. Which meant hanging around here, which meant (or so I believed) having access to the research centre …’
‘… which meant keeping your job. So enter Diss of Charnell Bearings,’ said Zeugma.
‘That’s it. God, but it sounds half-witted! But I’m so convinced something must have happened to Julie. Perhaps not the others, they were nothing to me, I would hardly know them again if we met. But Julie …’
A light was beginning to dawn in Zeugma’s mind.
‘This morning you went to see Fell,’ she said rapidly. ‘And he told you about Crow. Right? About that business with the girl. So you started thinking there might be a connection and that’s why you’re out here ! ’
Her face was flushed with excitement beneath the patina of ash. She jumped to her feet.
‘Miss Gray, Zeugma,’ he began, but there was no time to spare for idle chatter.
‘Listen,’ she said eagerly, ‘that’s why I came here today too. Because of the girl. I thought it was that girl in the papers, but it could be your cousin ! As well I mean. It would fit. Look, I’m sorry, I’m not explaining things well, but there isn’t much time. She was blonde, you say?’
Lakenheath nodded, a look of bewilderment on his face.
‘And shoes, what size shoes did she wear? No, you wouldn’t know that, would you? But you might recognize … hang on a sec.’
She hurried into the far chamber, picked up the shoe and stocking from the shelf and hurried back like a puppy with a stick.
‘You see these things? Now, can you remember, think hard, did your cousin own a pair of shoes like this one? Did she?’
Something of her urgency seemed to have communicated itself to Lakenheath who only took a moment to glance at the shoe before replying. ‘Why, yes.’
‘And the size? Is that the same? Could this shoe be Julie’s?’
‘Yes, it could. In fact I’m almost certain it is.’
‘Oh my God !’ said Zeugma. It was not just Lakenheath’s answer that caused the exclamation but a sense of approach, as if some presence was getting nearer to the cottage.
Lakenheath was a big man, but he had an injured ankle and in any case Crow was no weakling. And that dog ! With Twinkle at your opponent’s throat, you didn’t need a size advantage.
‘We’ve got to get out of here !’ she assured Lakenheath urgently. ‘Come on ! The Range Rover’s not far.’
‘But why … ?’ he protested.
‘Oh come on!’ she yelled, trying to drag him to his feet.
But it was too late. Even as the reluctant man began to rise, she heard the strong beat of broad wings, and through the door swept the peregrine. It gave one ear-splitting screech when it saw the intruders, then settled on some hidden perch in the far recesses of the building from which only its eye, gleaming in the daylight which crept through the door, was visible.
Zeugma and Lakenheath held their position in a silent tableau.
Next to arrive was Twinkle, who slid silently across the threshold and lay just inside, making it quite clear that no one was leaving without his permission.
And finally the bulk of a man blotted out the light and Crow stood in the door.
The best thing Zeugma decided was to try to bluff it out. Holding the shoe behind her back, she tried to put on her reassuring Queen Mother smile. But it was instantly apparent that this was in vain.
‘Twinkle,’ said Crow sternly. ‘We have guests.’
Silently the dog rose and, with open jaws and his eyes glistening redly, ran purposefully towards them.
Zeugma abandoned pretence and raised the shoe like a weapon, ready to sell her life dearly.
The dog ignored her and went on to Lakenheath, who stretched out his hand and scratched it between the ears.
‘Hello, Twinkle,’ he said. ‘Hello, Crow.’
‘Hello, Sam,’ said Crow. ‘Shall we have a cup of tea?’
Two shocks in such quick succession proved too much for Zeugma and she sat in a silence which was only partly diplomatic while Crow expertly arranged a handful of twigs in the hearth, lit them, added a couple of solid billets and wedged a kettle on the resultant pyre. Lakenheath regarded her with open amusement on his face and she felt a strong desire to kick him on his strapping. She felt deterred, however, by the presence of Twinkle, who lay at Lakenheath’s feet and gave every sign of being a great admirer of the man.
Crow went into the far section and she heard him speak softly to the falcon; at least she hoped it was the falcon; she shuddered at the thought that there might have been other livestock present while she conducted her search. When he returned he bore three mugs and the jug of whisky she had already sampled. This it turned out was used as a substitute for milk in the mug of strong black tea which her host eventually put into her hand.
‘So,’ he repeated, standing between the two visitors, ‘We have guests.’
Zeugma found her voice. It was rather more high-pitched than usual.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d come and see you about the money I won from Mr Upas. It struck me that …’
Lakenheath choked into his tea and she realized she was going to get no support there.
‘And you didn’t mind a wait?’ Crow said. ‘Not even when you saw me running north many miles away? That was kind.’
So much for deception. Did he see everything? She decided confrontation was the best policy.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘No, that wasn’t why I came. The reason was to search your house. I noticed this last night,’ she held up the shoe, ‘and I read the newspaper cutting about the girl.’
‘So you came to prove me a murderer,’ said Crow. ‘Not so kind.’
His voice was stern and she felt her spirits quailing once more. To her surprise. Lakenheath intervened.
‘An understandable mistake, Crow,’ he said. ‘She could have gone squealing to the police.’
He leaned across in front of Crow’s body and said. ‘Those things you found are Julie’s. I brought them to Crow myself. He has a way of working things out but he needs a point of contact.’
‘Does he? Well he hasn’t done much good as far as I can see,’ said Zeugma, glancing up at the impassive figure between them. ‘And what about my bones, did you take those as well?’
Crow nodded and drank his tea.
‘The dead,’ he said softly, ‘the dead confuse me. Here there are many. So violent, aye, some violent beyond endurance of understanding. And still fresh, always fresh. It does not fade easily, that agony. His in your pit and the man’s yesterday in the flames, it is the same agony and I have not always the skill to separate them.’
Zeugma did not understand all this but she felt she had got the gist.
‘You mean you took them in case they had something to do with Lakenheath’s hippies?’
She snorted derisively with the contempt of the expert.
‘When you’ve done a few digs, you don’t need black magic to sort out the old from the new. And why did you keep the hand?’
Crow looked down at her with cold, slate-grey eyes.
‘I kept it to bury. One part must remain here where he died no matter what indignities the rest undergoes.’
This reduced Zeugma to silence again and she concentrated on her potent tea.
Now Lakenheath and Crow started talking together and she eavesdropped openly on them. They did not seem to object and when Lakenheath told the other man about Diss and went on to say that the impostor had not put in an appearance that morning, she felt sufficiently bold to interrupt with an account of her meeting at Bewcastle.
‘And he warned me against you,’ she concluded, nodding at Lakenheath.
‘Coals to Bewcastle,’ he replied. ‘Crow, could this fellow have anything to do with Julie’s disappearance, do you think? I got the feeling this morning that Fell knew something about him I didn’t.’
Crow shook his head slowly.
‘I do not know. I have not felt him yet. There are barriers, all kinds of barriers. Three days ago, I felt close, very close to something. Then it went. Suddenly. It moved away behind a barrier.’
‘Moved?’ said Lakenheath hopefully. ‘You mean she could be alive, on the move?’
‘Perhaps, though before I did not think so. Do not hope.’
On that gloomy note, the meeting broke up. They finished their tea, then Lakenheath stood up.
‘Thanks, Crow. I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you for a while.’
He motioned down at his foot. Crow stared at it for an instant, then reached down and placed his hands on either side of the ankle and pressed firmly. Zeugma flinched and waited for the outcry from Lakenheath but none came.
‘Another day,’ said Crow, standing up.
Outside the house, Zeugma said to Lakenheath, ‘And how are you getting home?’
‘With you,’ he said cheerfully.
‘Really. And if I hadn’t been here, how did you propose to get back? In a falcon’s beak?’
‘No. Crow would have drummed up one of the foresters from somewhere. He’s quite matey with them, knows how to talk to the trees. But with you here, it’s silly to take them from their work.’
No one ever thinks it’s silly to take me from my work, thought Zeugma bitterly.
A few spots of rain began to fall as they reached the Range Rover. Zeugma lifted her face to the sky and felt it on her face. It was gentle and soft compared with the wind-driven violence of the previous day’s downpour and it was even possible for the romantic optimist to sense in it the onset of spring. She felt far from romantically optimistic and merely groaned at the thought of her waterlogged trench. But something in her responded to the variegated soft greys of the sky.
‘Don’t you know enough to get in out of the rain?’ asked Lakenheath.
‘I was just thinking, what a huge sky,’ said Zeugma.
‘Were you? That’s what Diss said too.’
This brought her out of her reverie and she climbed in beside him and started up.
‘Tell me,’ she said as they moved away, ‘how do you, the concrete-spreader, come to be bosom friends with Crow, the original earth-father?’
‘We have things in common,’ he said smugly.
‘Such as?’
‘Well, we run together. I like to keep fit. Shortly after my arrival here, I put on my track suit, drove out into the wilds a bit so that my admirers in Brampton wouldn’t get a free laugh, and set off at a gentle jog along the line of the wall, just the other side of Gilsland. Suddenly I had company. Crow and Twinkle. That was how it started.’
‘He didn’t con you into racing against the dog, did he?’
Lakenheath laughed.
‘He tried, but I wasn’t having any. I know my limitations. I think that’s how it started, when he saw I wasn’t an easy mark. After that I ran into him, literally, several times and eventually it became an understood thing. Not that I stick with them all the way. No, you’d need to be Olympic marathon standard for that. You know when he runs, he’s not just doing it to keep fit or for kicks. Hell, no !’
‘Well, why does he do it?’ asked Zeugma.
‘I’m not really sure. From what he’s said, and what I’ve observed myself, his runs trace complicated patterns over the waste, too large to be analysed from ground level. There’ve been archaeological discoveries of such things, haven’t there? Formal patterns too huge to be discerned except from the air ?’
‘
Yes, there have,’ said Zeugma. ‘Space-ship landing sites, some fools believe. But you mean Crow’s doing something like outlining a huge pentacle to work his charms in? That’s dafter still ! ’
‘Perhaps. I was curious enough to try to check on the pattern. One of my little schemes to try to keep poor Sayer and his lads happy was to have the whole area photographed from the air. Good selling point to prospective developers, I claimed. And I thought that perhaps Crow might have been trotting round the place long enough to leave a track ! But, hell, when they came through a few weeks ago, I found it was like trying to read Greek when you’d opted for German at school!’
‘Yes, they can be confusing,’ said Zeugma.
He glanced at her with a grin and she realized that she’d sounded rather pedagogically superior.
‘You’re welcome to a look,’ he said. ‘Anyway, to continue about Crow, he proved very helpful when Julie and the others were here. Often left a rabbit or a couple of birds at the centre gate.’
‘He knew they were there then?’ said Zeugma thoughtfully.
‘Of course. There’s not much goes on round here without it coming to Crow’s notice eventually. So when I started to worry about Julie and got nowhere with the police, I went to Crow and asked him to help.’
‘It’s like going to the local witch-doctor,’ scoffed Zeugma. ‘You don’t believe in all this supernatural stuff, do you?’
‘You’ve got to believe in something,’ said Lakenheath surprisingly. ‘Crow’s different, that I’m sure of. Though how he’s different I don’t know. What I do know is that when he found that other girl, she was buried five feet down in an old stream bed beneath half a dozen layers of stones. You need something special to do that.’
‘Like knowing where to look,’ said Zeugma, but she gunned the engine as she did so and they bumped over a rise and started running down to the centre road below.
‘Do you mind going up to the centre before we make for Brampton?’ asked Lakenheath.
Cheeky sod, thought Zeugma, but she turned obediently when they reached the road and drove towards the formidable gates.
Beyond the Bone Page 10
