“It might be easier to show you,” Juliette replied apologetically. “Are you free?”
“Of course. Just give me five minutes, and I’ll be right out.”
“Thank you,” they said in unison. It made Pattie smile. The two had been in sync for years, and now they were finally realising it.
Pattie went upstairs to quickly wash and get changed. She checked on the spare room door, but Andrew seemed soundly asleep. She could hear him gently snoring. She left a hastily scrawled note on the kitchen counter for Andrew, and then went outside to join the two police officers.
Thomas and Juliette were sitting in the police Land Rover across the road. Pattie could see them talking to one another. Thomas was smiling broadly. Were they holding hands? Then Juliette leaned across the handbrake and kissed Thomas softly. Pattie’s heart swelled. It had taken them long enough! After prompting and prodding each of them, Pattie could finally see what was always destined to happen: the two Detective Constables, acknowledging their love at last.
Pattie waited a few polite moments until it seemed safe to approach. She didn’t want them to think that their private moment had been spied on. After safely crossing the road, she got into the back seat.
“Shall we?”
“Off we go,” said Thomas cheerily, and they pulled out onto Shepherd’s Street and drove out of the village towards the edge of the valley.
It was a short distance, but a longer drive than one would expect. The road idled back and forth down the side of the valley, which would have been too steep for a sudden descent. The path had been worn in ages gone by, and joined a stream that meandered between heather-purpled moor and patches of marshland, where rain collected abundantly over the peaty earth and sandstone landscape. Flocks of sheep, dispersed across miles, chewed pointlessly at tough bracken. More than once, they saw red grouse fluttering up into the morning sky, which was darkened by rainclouds that soon released a light mist over the hillside.
Eventually they came to a junction where police in rain ponchos waited with flashlights, and beckoned them off the road and further up the valley’s edge again, where the marsh didn’t reach and was replaced by giant sandstone boulders speckled with moss and lichen. The Land Rover powered up the incline. Eventually they parked and Thomas pulled hard on the handbrake to avoid rolling backward towards the river.
They had arrived at the crime scene. There was a light rain now, which Pattie ignored as she stooped beneath the yellow police tape and entered the tent that had been erected over the body.
“One of the local farmers found her just after sunrise this morning,” explained Juliette. “His mobile had no reception up here, so we lost a little time when he drove across the village to the station. I was the first on-scene, but the wounds were so strange I wanted to consult you, Pattie, and call for Thomas. What do you think?”
The dead woman was in her forties, dressed in typical rambler’s clothing with a hiker’s cane. The body was wet from the mist, despite the tent, and it made her wounds seem fresh. There were deep slashes across her face, chest and arm: several narrow cuts bunched together … “As though made by a claw,” Pattie said quietly.
“That’s what I thought,” Juliette replied softly. “I’ve heard all this talk about a big cat prowling around, of course. What do you make of it? I couldn’t think of anyone better qualified than you.”
Pattie accepted some nitrile gloves from another officer so that she could examine the wound. She was a detective, but not in forensics; she spent little time examining the claw marks.
“It’s too wet and bloody for me to tell anything,” she confessed, standing again. “What do your forensic people have to say?”
“Early ideas are animal wounds or a weapon that leaves a similar mark,” said Thomas.
“I could have told you that.”
“We need to get the body to somewhere covered and clean before they can take a closer look. We want to make sure we aren’t missing anything at the scene before we move her. It could be another few hours before they’re finished photographing and cataloguing everything, but the rain overnight means there’s probably nothing to find.”
Juliette said, “The woman’s husband has been notified. She had a credit card in her pocket. Her name’s Edith Lane. She’s from Little Hamilton – one of the primary school teachers.”
Pattie took off the gloves and balled them up. “Everybody knows everybody in our village. All I can say for now is that they are similar to cat scratches – three or four lines, evenly spaced – and they’re placed where I would expect a cat to scratch if it was attacking. But clearly it would have to be a very large cat – panther-sized, not domestic. Could there really be a wild animal like that around here?”
“I’m sceptical, but who knows?” said Thomas, raising his eyes to the sound of the rain beating down on the evidence tent above them. “Who knows what’s really out here?”
“Is there anybody to call – someone who’s trained to deal with dangerous wildlife?”
“I’ve got someone looking into it,” Juliette replied. “We have special Wildlife Crime Officers, but they’re normally for crimes against wildlife, not committed by wildlife. The nearest are stationed in York, and there are two other officers in Harrogate. We’ve got someone trying to reach them by phone to see how they deal with this kind of thing. Since the seventies there’ve been sightings of big cats in the wild here in the UK. Someone caught a puma in Scotland, a lynx in Shropshire, another in Suffolk about fifteen years ago … Then there’s all those Bodmin Moor stories…”
Pattie wondered what would happen if one of her more adventurous cats, such as Archie or Tyson, wandered across the path of a lynx. She shuddered to think how the smaller felines would fare. She had enough to worry about with foxes.
“Feel free to call me when you’ve had a chance to examine the body properly, or get photographs of the wounds,” she said quietly. “For now I feel like I should be at home.”
Thomas must have seen the expression change on her face. He took her home at once.
Chapter Five
Pattie returned to find Andrew in the kitchen, making himself breakfast. He was wide awake, showered and dressed.
“Hello, Mum. Getting an early start?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Working at the station,” he said.
“Andrew, I haven’t worked at the police station for three years, since before you even left. Although as it happens, I’ve been with Thomas Downey and Juliette Palmer.”
“Oh?” he said, turning over some sausages in the pan. “How’s Thomas nowadays?”
“He’s a D.C. now, like you were. Juliette joined sometime after you left, but soon worked her way up as well. She’s a D.C. too. Did you sleep alright?”
Andrew put the kettle on the stove and lit the gas under it. Pattie had never fancied an electric kettle, and Andrew had been the only person she knew of who approved. He liked the sound of the kettle whistling when the water boiled.
“I’ll make you some tea,” he said. “Yes, I slept okay, thanks. The cats woke me up meowing; didn’t you feed them before you left?”
“I was in a hurry,” she replied, lowering her creaking body into a chair with a sigh. “There’s been a murder, on the moors.”
“A murder.” Andrew turned off the hob he was using to fry the sausages, and placed them on a plate with some bread using a pair of tongs. He listened carefully to what his mother had to say.
“Yes. We don’t know much about it yet, but I still get asked to consult from time to time. Despite everything that happened.”
She didn’t turn around, but she heard the general clatter that Andrew was making suddenly come to a stop. He put down the cutlery and came over to sit beside her at the table. His eyes had never been so earnest. He had his father’s eyes, brown around the pupils with dark green at the outsides. He had the same prominent cheekbones and lined forehead.
“Mum, I’m so sorry for what happened. I … sh
ould have come home much sooner, and tried to talk to you properly about it. I know how you feel about what I did, and although I would have done anything to put that madman behind bars where he belonged, I shouldn’t have done it the way I did. And I know it changed things for you, here – how people spoke to you, because of me. It wasn’t fair.”
“It was very difficult for a while, Andrew, but it’s better now. People are starting to forget. But it brought so much attention down on Little Hamilton, and the people here have such small, private lives. They didn’t need the media spotlight. They couldn’t deal with it.”
She clasped his hands in hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. There were tears in his eyes. “I’m here now. And I want to make it up to you.”
Pattie smiled. “You can start by sharing that sausage sandwich.”
Chapter Six
Pattie never kept much food in the house, so now that she had a guest, for who knew for how long, she needed to do some grocery shopping. It was Sunday, so Elliott wasn’t working and offered to accompany her.
“What’s it like?” he asked, as they filled up their shopping basket. “Having Andrew back after all this time?”
“Strange,” she confessed. “We’ve talked since he left for France, and he’s explained and apologised a hundred times, but everything always felt so superficial with Andrew. His words always came from the surface, as though for every ten words he spoke there were a hundred he left unsaid, hidden deep down. I’ve never known how to deal with it. And there’s something else.”
“Oh?”
“I’d like you to meet him.”
Elliott slowly placed a bottle of milk into the basket. He looked blank for a moment, then he smiled. “I’d like that. And I’m sure he wants to know more about your friends.”
Pattie touched his arm. “Elliott, dear … You’re not just any friend. I hope you know that.”
The doctor and the lady looked into one another’s eyes for a moment … Until a shrill voice interrupted them. “Patricia Lansbury!”
Pattie turned. It was Mrs Atkinson, the local busybody.
“Hello, Mrs Atkinson. How is that lovely Persian kitty of yours?”
“Never mind that,” said the elderly lady, clutching her purse in her gloved hands. “You must have heard about Edith! She was one of our finest teachers, and now she’s dead!”
“I heard,” said Pattie. “It’s such terrible news.”
“That devilish cat did it!” Mrs Atkinson went on. “And we all know why, don’t we? Punishment! God’s punishment! It’s all your fault!”
Elliott stepped forward. He’d always had a short fuse when it came to irrational people, but somehow he had the will to keep his patience. It came from having been a doctor for years. “Just a minute, Mrs Atkinson. Why on Earth would you blame Patricia for a murder in the countryside?”
“Because that no-good son of hers is back! I saw him, last night, walking to the late night off-license! We thought that evil man was out of our hair for good, and the night the cat lady’s son waltzes back into town, a wild panther slaughters poor Edith!”
People were staring now. Several shoppers stopped to watch the confrontation between the two women, and poor Elliott in between. He said, “That’s hardly rational, is it, Mrs Atkinson? God does his punishing after this life, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’ll see,” the grey-haired woman snapped. “Everyone will see! Andrew Lansbury, the famous detective, brought disaster on Little Hamilton once! He’ll do it again! You’ll see!”
Chapter Seven
“What an unpleasant woman,” muttered Elliott, once they’d left the store. Security had gotten involved, but Elliott had defused the situation quickly in his usual restrained way. Pattie was envious of his composure.
“Unpleasant is the least of it,” Pattie snapped. “It was Mrs Atkinson who riled up everybody the last time, and had Andrew kicked out of town. They made life so miserable for my whole family that he had no other choice. What is it about small towns and small-minded people? This is intolerable; she is intolerable. And Lord only knows where she got this latest mad idea. It certainly wasn’t from our church!”
Elliott seemed relieved when his mobile rang. He didn’t see Pattie angry very often, and he didn’t feel totally equipped to deal with it. When he answered the phone, he heard the voice of Detective Constable Palmer. “Hello, Juliette – to what do I owe the pleasure…? Patricia? Oh yes, she’s with me right now…”
He passed over the phone. Juliette had called him because Pattie’s mobile appeared to be switched off. In actuality Pattie often forget to charge it, and this was one of those times. “Hello, Juliette?”
“Patricia, we have some forensic information about the murder. Are you near the station?”
“We’re just about to walk past it on the way home, actually. I’ll stop in.”
After hanging up, she asked Elliott if he minded. Of course, he didn’t. Elliott didn’t seem to mind anything, even when she was in a foul mood. She was lucky to have him in her life. The only man comparable had been Charlie, who put up with her eccentricities and foibles. Why did she so often think of the two men together? Was Doctor Knight that close to her heart…?
At the station, they caught Juliette and Thomas talking quietly together in the reception area.
Elliott leaned in to whisper: “Was there ever anything so obvious as young love trying to be discreet?”
Pattie chuckled and nudged him. “Behave, Doctor.”
Juliette saw that they’d arrived. She blushed when she realised that Pattie had seen herself and Thomas whispering sweet nothings to each other when they thought no-one was looking. “Hello, Pattie, Elliott,” she said breathlessly. “Thanks for coming.”
“Is there much to review?” asked Pattie, her eyes twinkling behind her spectacles.
Thomas presented a printed report. “Not much, Patricia. The forensics teams can’t be certain that it wasn’t an animal, but most of the wounds aren’t deep enough to be caused by any large creature. Even a warning pat from an animal the size we’re talking about would leave severe injuries.”
“But the marks we saw were what killed Edith?”
“Yes. Know her, did you?” asked Thomas, raising his eyes from the report.
“We had a run-in with Mrs Atkinson at the supermarket…” Elliott replied.
“Is she at it again? Don’t worry, Patricia, I’m sure Juliette won’t mind having a word with her. In the meantime, I have something of a lead: the forensics department tried to match the wounds against any known man-made implements, and they found a compelling match against something they picked up at the garden centre: a small gardening fork. I’m going to see whether they have a record of any recent sales.”
“A gardening fork!” Pattie exclaimed. “What kind of madman would use something like that on a woman? And to make some of those deeper wounds…!”
“He’d have to be strong and very serious,” Thomas said in a low voice. “Still, it’s a lead. I thought you’d like to be kept updated.”
“Yes, thank you, Thomas. Juliette.”
Pattie and Elliott left, and lingered outside so that Elliott could retie a shoelace. Thomas followed them outside. “Um, Mrs Lansbury … Patricia?”
“Yes, Thomas?”
“So … Andrew’s really back in town?”
Pattie covered her mouth. “Good Lord, Thomas, I should have told you earlier! I’ve been in a real spin … Yes, he’s back. Shall I give him your number?”
“Please do. It’d be great to catch up. What happened to him was awful and I never got a chance to speak to him properly about it. The last time I saw him was before things went bad between him and Nina, just before he left…”
“He’d be happy to hear from you, I’m sure.”
“I hope so…”
“Speaking of romances, good or bad – things look well between you and D.C. Palmer.”
Thomas grinned as he opened the door to g
o back inside. “I said I’d keep you up to date, but I was talking about business only…!”
Pattie laughed as they walked home along Shepherd’s Street. She had always liked Thomas, and that was a fitting last memory of him.
Six hours later, he would be dead.
Chapter Eight
They found the body at the far end of Shepherd’s Street, right at the point where it reached the city limits and became a nameless country road that wound up the slope of the valley and went southeast towards York. It had been raining again, and the Jeep struggled not to aquaplane down the grassy slope towards the murder site.
Pattie heard about it via Laura Conrad, the local intrepid journalist who worked for a TV news station. She also happened to be the daughter of Matthew Conrad, with whom Pattie had recently ceased business. Her job was to scout for stories her YTV News team could report. She called Pattie’s house phone that evening to ask for her opinion on the news, as Pattie was consulting detective on the first murder, and this appeared to be the same killer – animal or human.
Murder Most Familiar (A Pattie Lansbury Cat Cozy Mystery Series Book 4) Page 6
