He shook his head. ‘She’s gone. I sent her away. It’s my fault ... ’ His hands pulled at the grass.
‘We must try to get him away from here,’ Marcus said. ‘The hut, maybe?’
‘He doesn’t know who we are, he’ll refuse ... ’
‘We can’t leave him here.’
Agnes turned to see three police officers running down the slope of the hollow. She went towards them, but they had seen Baines, kneeling calmly on the ground, his coat soaked with his daughter’s blood. They stood over him. Slowly he raised his eyes to them. The dogs snarled.
Clumsily, awkwardly, he got to his feet. He smiled. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, and held out his hands to them.
‘No — ’ Agnes intervened. ‘Not him. He’s very ill. He’s confused, and in shock. He needs treatment.’
‘It’s Mr Baines, from Allbright’s, isn’t it?’
‘He found his daughter, badly injured, he’s very upset ... ’
‘And you are?’
‘Sister Agnes from St Catherine’s School.’
‘He was first at the scene, you say?’
‘For God’s sake.’ It was Marcus. ‘You need to find Anthony Turnbull. I saw him. I saw the fight. He was beating the hell out of my sister. He ran off towards Millhouse.’
The policeman let go of Baines. Baines turned to them, still smiling. ‘I had a son once, gentlemen,’ he said, his voice slow and soft. ‘Once I had a son. And two daughters. And a wife ... ’ His words were choked by a sob.
There was a burst of noise from the police radios. The police conferred, briefly, and then two ran back to the cars and drove off fast. The third stayed to take details from Agnes and Marcus, and then he too left.
Baines had sat down again on a rock, and was staring straight ahead. Marcus went to him and helped him to his feet. Baines looked at him. ‘You seem — do I know you — perhaps, familiar ... ?’
‘Come and get warm,’ Marcus said, his eyes filling with tears.
The police helicopter still circled overhead. Baines allowed his son to lead him to the track that led down to the hut. Agnes followed, the dogs bobbing at her feet. The moon was sinking in the sky, and at the horizon’s edge the sky was turning pale.
They reached the hut, and Agnes found matches and lit candles, and then placed paper and wood in the grate and lit the fire. Marcus pulled the mattress near to the hearth and helped his father on to it. Baines allowed Marcus to take off his damp coat, raising each arm limply in turn like a child. Marcus put his coat and boots to warm by the fire and covered his father with blankets. ‘Sleep, now,’ he whispered, and Baines obediently settled down and closed his eyes. The two dogs settled at his feet. From time to time they opened an eye to keep watch.
Agnes soaked a handkerchief with cold water and handed it to Marcus. ‘You seem to have taken rather a bruising,’ she said.
‘Oh, yes, that.’ He tried to smile, dabbing at the side of his face.
‘Turnbull?’
Marcus nodded. ‘He’s off his rocker. Bloody hell, I thought he was going to kill her.’
‘What happened?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘Long story. I don’t quite know where to start. Some time ago, Jo told me that Dad wanted to hand the mill over to her and Pat.’
‘Weren’t you consulted?’
‘No. Didn’t surprise me, though, and I was glad to be out of it. Like Jo, she did the right thing too, refusing it. I thought old Turnbull and Patricia were welcome to it. But then just the other week, Jo told me about Turnbull trying to sell it. I was very angry. And it seemed -I dunno — I was surprised that Anthony should do that, go against Dad’s wishes like that. I thought he was a decent bloke. And then I heard how Dad was so upset, and I started keeping an eye on him — there was no point calling at the house, he’d only have kicked me out, but I hung about a bit, just checking ... And I was there when Turnbull called the other night. And he — bastard — he threatened Dad. Said he was selling the mill regardless, he’d got the deeds, apparently, all but one, and he was trying to get Dad to hand over some file, and Dad said it wasn’t there, and he wouldn’t tell him where it was, and this went on for some time, I was outside the window — crazy, isn’t it — lurking around in the grounds of my own house like God knows what ... And then Turnbull started going on about Jo, and David, and I didn’t catch it all — he seemed to be blaming them. And Dad — oh God, it was terrible then, Dad was crying, pleading with him to leave Jo alone, really frightened for her, I think — and Turnbull stormed out. And I was left, watching Dad, crying, and he was calling for my mum ... ’ Marcus suddenly buried his face in his hands. ‘And — ‘his voice was choked with sobs — ‘And I couldn’t go to him. I knew that if I went in — he’d throw me out. And I couldn’t bear it.’ His words were lost in weeping.
Agnes took his hand. After a while he grew calmer, and raised his head. They both looked across to William, who lay sleeping, peacefully.
‘And the fight?’ Agnes asked.
‘Oh, yes. The fight.’ He smiled. ‘I surprised even myself. Jo phoned me — it must have been yesterday — and I told her what I’d heard, the row between Dad and Anthony. She was furious, it’s years since I’ve seen her so angry, she was in a terrible state. She said she was going to sort Anthony out. I said she was mad, it was too dangerous. But she wouldn’t listen, and she said I wasn’t to tell David, because he was in danger too. I don’t know what she meant by that. I think she knew that Turnbull was looking for her on the moors, and she went to find him. God knows what she thought she could do, but they were — they had a kind of understanding — it goes back years ... All I know is that when I got here I saw Pat’s car parked on the track back there -Turnbull must have “borrowed” it. And I ran. I kind of knew where they’d gone — and I saw Turnbull, and followed him, and got there just as he was punching the lights out of Jo — oh God! She was on the ground, screaming. It was awful, if he’s not sent down for that there’s no justice — and I launched into him, and she got up, and ran off after Dad, and I stayed with Anthony, I was trying to — God knows -I thought I could restrain him till the police got there, but he got away — and then I caught up with Jo and Dad — and you were there ... And Elias ...
‘Hang on — Jo ran?’
‘Yes. Superhuman, I think. She was really injured ... ’
‘And then collapsed with your father?’
‘Suppose so.’
‘But she seemed so badly hurt — and why should Turnbull fight her?’
‘Because he’s a bastard. And because something had driven him mad. It had obviously all built up, Joanna not letting him take her name off the deeds, and also — he was shouting at her about them being made for each other.’
Agnes hesitated, then said, ‘This “understanding” they had ... ’
Marcus met her eyes. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘An affair?’
‘Sort of. Well, yes. She was pretty crazy in those days, and lonely.’
‘Was he already married to Patricia?’
‘Yes. And — you see, he was OK, in those days. We all liked him. And he and Jo had this kind of teasing, bantering relationship ... looking back, it was obvious, there was this kind of electricity between them. I’m amazed we didn’t see at the time, I don’t think Patricia ever suspected. But then he and Pat got all kind of aspirational, and the business grew, and they bought that horrible bungalow ... he could have been a great guy, you know. And now he’s stark raving mad.’
‘And he thinks she’s made for him?’
‘After she met David, things cooled between her and Anthony, and now she rather despises him. And he’s realised that, I think. I think that added to his madness on the moor, he was just yelling at her, and punching her, God, it was awful, the man should be put away for years.’
Agnes got up and stoked the fire, then turned to Marcus. ‘He’s ruined, you know. Bankrupt.’
Marcus looked up in surprise.
‘He’s been b
orrowing from the business for years. Gambling debts, apparently. He thought the mill would save him.’
Marcus laughed, emptily. ‘The mill? What century is he living in?’
‘And when he found it wouldn’t, he tried to sell it. And he managed to squeeze out you, and Pat, nearly — and he was trying to get round Jo. But he couldn’t squeeze out David.’
‘David?’
‘And Nina. And David’s brother Mark.’
‘I don’t get you.’
‘That’s the deed he wanted from your father. There’s an old trust document, a legacy, and those three are, or were, entitled to shares in the mill. It’s with the police now.’
Baines stirred in his sleep and turned over, and Marcus went over to him to cover him up again. There was a rustling noise outside. Marcus glanced at the door. The two dogs at Baines’s feet opened their eyes and sat up, whining. The door began to open. Agnes saw the patchy grey fur, the sightless eyes of the old dog Greer, as he nudged the door open and stumbled through it, sniffing his way, limping slowly, painfully, across the floor, making little whining noises. He went straight to Baines, licked his face once, then lay down, his face next to his master’s, and fell into exhausted sleep. The young dogs quietened and lay down again. Agnes heard Baines murmur the old dog’s name.
Agnes looked at Marcus. His face was wet with tears. Outside the sky was pale with the dawn.
Chapter Twenty-Three
They sat like that for some time, listening to the settled breathing of the old man, the louder, laboured breath of his old dog. Agnes’s phone rang, and the sound was so odd, so intrusive, that for a moment she wondered what on earth it could be. She fished out the phone from her pocket and answered it.
‘Agnes, it’s David.’
‘David — ’
‘Good news. She’s recovered consciousness. She seems OK. She smiled at me.’ He was almost laughing.
‘Thank God.’
‘She’s asking after her father.’
‘He’s here, with us, me and Marcus, we’re in the hut, he’s sleeping.’
‘I’ll tell her he’s fine, shall I?’
Agnes hesitated. ‘Sure. Tell her he’s fine.’ She rang off. ‘That was David. She’s OK.’
Marcus looked across to his father. ‘When he wakes up, tell him she’s alive.’
‘It should be you.’
Marcus shook his head. ‘Not yet. I must go, before he wakes.’
‘But ... ’
‘No, really, believe me. Not yet. I can’t risk upsetting him again. If he sees me — ’
‘What is it then, that’s driven you both so far apart?’
He sighed. ‘It’s another long story. I was a fool. When my mother was dying ... I said things ... things I shouldn’t have said. She was wonderful, you see, we all spent time with her in that room, during her last weeks, and she was so serene, so kind of reconciled ... and there was something she said, about a letter she’d written me, she’d entrusted Dad with it, and now I understand that she wanted him to wait until he’d gone too, but at the time I was so desperate about losing her, I wanted her to stay ... I demanded to see it, and it upset them both, and then I was angry with him and I blamed him for her getting ill, for neglecting her in favour of the mill ... I was a fool. And he’s never forgiven me. I just didn’t want her to go ... ’
‘No. I can imagine. I know someone ... ’ Agnes broke off as her phone rang again.
‘Where are you?’ James’s voice sounded strained.
‘Here. I mean — oh God, I’m so glad to hear you.’ Agnes felt like bursting into tears.
‘Are you OK? We lost him, we’ve had an awful time, we called the police in the end ... ’
‘I’m OK. I’m at a hut on the moors, I’ll give you directions, have you got a pen, it’s not far from you at all.’ She gave instructions, then rang off.
Marcus stood up. ‘Your friend can help get Dad back home, can’t he?’
‘Do you really have to go?’
‘Yes.’ He glanced nervously at his father, then said, as if it was an excuse, ‘It’s not fair on my wife, we’ve got a young baby.’
‘But - I wanted to ask you — how did you know where to find your father last night? Why Laithe’s Hollow?’ Marcus shifted on his feet.
‘Elias knew too,’ Agnes said.
‘Yes.’
‘This riding accident,’ Agnes persisted. ‘This person who was killed — ’
‘Kate. She was my girlfriend at the time. And Dad was at the scene too, it was his horse, it was him who destroyed her, one of his favourite mares, she was. Elias blamed himself, he took it really badly. He went kind of crazy, he disappeared, it turned out he was living at the stables, sleeping in the straw. Then he left the area. I hadn’t seen him since. Until — until last night. When I saw him last night, I was so glad ... I wish he’d stayed.’ He reched down for his coat, and put it on.
‘Do you have to go now?’
‘Really. I must. If Dad sees me — ’
‘It’s for you, isn’t it? It’s to protect you, not him. In case he recognises you ... ’
Marcus looked down at her. He nodded. ‘If he sees me and — and rejects me again -1 couldn’t bear it, Agnes. I’m sorry. I’m a coward ... ’ His eyes filled with tears. He turned towards the door. ‘Look after Greer for me.’ He tied his scarf around his neck and stumbled out into the morning. Agnes heard the call of a bird high above the moor.
The candles of the night had burnt right down to their wicks. She went round the hut, blowing them out, then sat quietly, waiting. She listened to the breathing, and was suddenly aware that she could hear only one rhythm, one breath, in, out. She looked across at Baines, who was sleeping quietly. At Greer, who was still. Quite, quite still. She saw that the young dogs had moved and were now lying next to him.
She went to the dog, and buried her fingers in his fur, feeling his fading warmth, feeling her eyes well with tears. She stroked his nose, tears rolling down her face. And at Easter, too, she thought, wondering why that should occur to her now.
James found her there, crying silently. He took her in his arms, and she sobbed, ‘He’s dead,’ and James said, ‘No he isn’t, he looks fine,’ and Agnes cried out, ‘Not the man, you fool, the dog,’ and then she was laughing through her tears.
‘We must get them both back home,’ James said.
They sat by the makeshift bed. Baines stirred, opened his eyes, closed them again.
‘We shouldn’t wake him,’ Agnes said. She went over to the kettle, and filled it with water, and stoked up the fire under it.
They waited. Agnes made tea for them both, and told James about the events of the night, about Joanna, the helicopter, the police searching for Turnbull. As she put down her empty mug, she said, ‘Oh my God.’
‘What?’
‘The school. They’ll wonder where on earth I am. I haven’t given them a second thought ... ’
James looked across at her and their eyes met. ‘You have a phone,’ he said.
‘The batteries are low,’ she said.
Baines stirred. ‘My poor, poor dog,’ he said. ‘My Greer.’ He opened his eyes. ‘My dog,’ he said, addressing James and Agnes. ‘Come all this way to die. Courageous to the end.’ He raised himself up on one arm, and the young dogs sat up and wagged their tails.
‘Mr Baines ... ’ Agnes said.
‘You look familiar,’ he said to her, then suddenly went white and sat up. ‘Jo!’
‘She’s OK. She’s in hospital. She has head injuries, but she’s conscious — ’
‘I must go to her — ’ He tried to stand, but his legs gave way and he sat down heavily again. ‘And Marcus,’ he mumbled, ‘I thought I saw Marcus ... ’
‘Mr Baines — ’ James stood over him, holding his coat and shoes. ‘If you’ll allow me ... ’ James put the shoes on the old man’s feet, helped him on with his coat, and then put one arm under him and raised him to stand upright. Agnes saw the exhaustion in James’s
face, the shadows around his eyes.
She covered the dying embers of the fire with ash, while James helped William outside to his car which was parked by the track, next to Agnes’s. He came back in, picked up the still form of Greer, and carried him outside, followed by the two young dogs. Agnes locked the hut behind them.
They drove to Baines’s house. The dogs jumped and circled with glee as William led them all round to the side door, which Isabel had locked. He bent and retrieved a key from under the mat, and let them in. Agnes went straight to the phone and called the school, fending off all enquiries from Mary Watson, and saying firmly she’d see them in the next couple of hours. Then she phoned the mill, and got Nina.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Nina sounded indignant. ‘I was called in here at crack of dawn, I had to dump Rosie on Jay, Patricia’s vanished, police swarming the place looking for Turnbull, and all sorts of rumours about Mr Baines running amok up on the moor ... ’
‘I’ll tell you as soon as I can. Nina — stay where you’re safe, Turnbull’s still out there and he’s dangerous. Does anyone know where Patricia is?’
‘No one.’
‘If you see her, tell her her sister’s at the General Infirmary, and her father’s back home. They’re both OK.’
She rang off.
Baines had poured three large whiskies. He handed one each to Agnes and James. They settled down in the old chairs, in the gloom of the lounge. Greer was lying in state on the velvet plush of the old sofa, the two dogs sitting at his side. Agnes got up and went over to the window, and pulled on the curtain cord. The curtains parted, heavily, reluctantly, raising a cloud of dust, and sunshine poured into the room.
‘It’s Easter Saturday,’ she said, for no apparent reason.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Yawning, Agnes parked the car in the school grounds. She got out and went straight to Elias’s flat and knocked at the door. There was no answer. It was after ten, and she’d missed morning chapel.
A Dark and Sinful Death Page 28
