What was it? A body? The hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle. Surely not! Not another body! She was torn between wanting to leave the place immediately, and the professional instinct to see if there was life in the body and if necessary resuscitate whoever it was. Professionalism won, and she started down the crumbling steps carefully. Halfway down she realized how dangerous it was, as a large chunk of brick split beneath her weight and went crashing to the bottom. But having started she continued. However, as soon as she reached the bottom she realized it was not a person, but merely a pile of clothes. Then the torch began to flicker, before failing completely.
Looking up she could only just make out the circular hole at the entrance. It seemed very far away, and it took all of Lizzie’s strength of will not to panic.
I’ve got to get out. I’ve got to get out, the panicky thought skittered through her brain as she began the perilous ascent towards the circular hole with the night sky above it. The bricks were slippery, and more than once a whole brick broke from the perpendicular walls and went crashing to the bottom. Lizzie clung on, her fingers cold and stiff, her breath coming in rasping gasps. The climb seemed never ending, but eventually she reached the top. Hauling herself over the edge she lay gasping on the soft grass growing there, unable to move.
Suddenly Ruth came along the path accompanied by the two dogs. ‘What are you doing here?’ Ruth’s voice was shrill and suspicious.
‘I…er,’ Lizzie tried to think of a credible reason as to why she should be where she was, but couldn’t. She did her best, and sat up. ‘I came up to check on your mother as I’ve been worried about her. And I decided to walk up through the gardens to the house as it was such a lovely evening, when I noticed that the door to the icehouse was open.’ She could see that Ruth was disbelieving and hurried on with her explanation. ‘I looked in, but couldn’t see properly as my torch has a low battery. However I could see that something is down there.’ Ruth gave a startled exclamation. ‘There’s no need to worry,’ Lizzie reassured her. ‘It’s not a body. I’ve been down and had a look.’
‘What did you see?’
‘Nothing to worry about, Ruth. It’s some old clothes. We need to get a light, and we need to call somebody else as well to see what it is.’
The two dogs were wandering about down the path and Lizzie clambered out and stood up. She was still feeling exhausted and shaky. Ruth moved forward, called the dogs and put them on their leashes. Then she tugged the two heavy wooden doors across the entrance. ‘This will do for now,’ she said. ‘We’d better go back to the house.’
‘Yes, and call the police,’ said Lizzie. She started walking along the path towards the house. ‘Are the rest of the family at home now?’
There was no answer to her question. Instead, she felt a hard blow to the back of her head, and fell forward on to the mossy path. She didn’t lose consciousness but her senses were spinning, and she felt sick. Her mouth had earth and gravel in it, and when she tried to sit up and spit it out a heavy pressure on her back prevented her. She panicked. Someone was holding her down.
The pain at the back of her head was excruciating and she could taste blood in her mouth. She was bleeding. A lot. The metallic smell of her own blood permeated everything, and she couldn’t see. Blood was in her eyes; her head was held back by someone. It must be Ruth. She was holding her hair and jerking her head backwards, while she was dragging Lizzie bodily back towards the opening of the icehouse. Struggling through the mist of blood in her eyes Lizzie was able to see that somehow Ruth must have opened the icehouse doors again. Suddenly, she knew what Ruth was going to do. She was going to push her down into the icehouse. She’d never get out if she fell. Never! Never! Panic started to choke her, and she tried to call out. But no sound came. Sick with terror Lizzie tried with all her might to resist being bundled through the opening. She was being pushed into the icehouse but was powerless to prevent it. If she fell down into that dark slippery interior she would never get out, because no one would know she was there once the doors were shut. They’d find her body months later. If at all.
Absolute terror gave her a sudden strength. With an almighty effort, she twisted round and stared up into Ruth’s face. She hardly recognized the girl she knew. The face that looked back at her was white, the eyes dark and staring, and the mouth twisted in fury. It was the face of a mad woman. Reaching up she clawed at Ruth’s long hair and hung on.
‘Ruth, Ruth, where are you?’ Tom came running along the path with the two dogs at his heels. ‘I was worried when the dogs came back with their leads on and without you,’ he said. Then he saw Lizzie. ‘Dr Browne,’ he cried. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘The icehouse door was open, and she fell down,’ said Ruth. ‘I was helping her out.’
Lizzie stared at her. Ruth now looked and sounded perfectly normal. ‘That’s not true, is it Ruth,’ she gasped. She tried to keep her own voice calm and steady, but it was difficult because she was still gasping for breath. ‘You tried to push me down into the icehouse.’
Tom strode over to Lizzie and, putting his arms around her, hauled her to her feet. ‘You’re covered in blood,’ he said. ‘You must have had a terrific fall.’
‘She did,’ said Ruth. ‘I don’t think she’s knows what happened. Of course I didn’t push her. I think she passed out or something and then fell.’ She came to Lizzie’s side and took her other arm. ‘If we go back to the house I can get you something to drink. Then you’ll feel better.’
I’m not drinking anything you give me, thought Lizzie, but said nothing, and allowed herself to be led back up the path towards the house. She could hear Tom saying to Ruth, ‘are you all right, darling. I was so very worried. You shouldn’t have run off like that. You mustn’t argue with Simon, he was only trying to help.’
Lizzie tried to feel for her phone. Had she dropped it in the fight? But she found it, tucked away in its own little pocket in her jeans. As soon as she knew that she relaxed a little and allowed herself to be half carried along by Tom. ‘You’ll be all right when I get you back to the house,’ said Tom. ‘Simon and Ruth’s mother are both there. You just need to sit down for a bit, and have that cut on your head sorted. Here, hold this to your head.’ He fished a crumpled, but clean looking handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to Lizzie.
As soon as they reached the house, Lizzie made the excuse that she needed the toilet and then shut herself in. Whom could she trust? Was the whole family involved in the killing? Or just Ruth?
She scrolled to Adam’s number but he didn’t answer. Lizzie started to panic. She was sure now that Ruth was the murderer, and maybe the others as well.
There was a knock on the toilet door. It was Amelia Villiers. ‘Are you all right?’ she called.
‘Yes, I’m all right. I’ve just been a bit sick,’ Lizzie lied, ‘but I’ll be OK in a moment.’ Hastily she texted Adam. At Avon Hall, Ruth is murderer. Need help. ASAP.
Amelia knocked on the door again, and Lizzie flushed the toilet then opened the door and came out. ‘Oh, my dear,’ said Amelia, and to Lizzie’s surprise she really did sound quite concerned. ‘Come and sit down. Ruth has made you a herbal tea. That will soon perk you up.’
‘Thank you,’ said Lizzie faintly, and allowed herself to be led into the library and seated in a comfortable armchair. She laid her head back on a cushion and watched Ruth through half closed eyes as she came over to her with a cup of steaming tea in her hand and put it on the table beside her. ‘Thank you, I’ll drink it later. I don’t think I can manage it now. I might throw up again.’
Ruth didn’t reply, but stared at her before going back to the settee and sitting with Tom, who put his arm around her.
Amelia disappeared into the kitchen and then came back with a basin of hot water and some plasters. ‘I’m going to clean up that cut,’ she told Lizzie. ‘Tell me if I hurt you.’
‘Thanks.’ Lizzie lay back and worried.
When would Adam read his
text? When would he come? Soon, Lizzie hoped. She lay back in the armchair and watched the Villiers’ family through half closed eyes. Which one of them could she trust? Or were they all involved with the murder?
Chapter 22
Dick and Phineas arrived at the golf club to find it was a Retro Night, with a sixties night menu. Dick regarded the event with some apprehension; he’d been planning on fish and chips, because it was something he never had at home. But it was prawn cocktail, steak and chips followed by black forest gateau.
Phineas was pleased. ‘Good,’ he said, rubbing his hands in glee. ‘I fancy a prawn cocktail, with nice fat juicy prawns, followed by steak and chips and black forest gateau.’ He led the way to their reserved table, which overlooked the first hole, and settled down ready to order
Dick followed, and was taking his seat when Phineas’s mobile rang. ‘If it’s your wife,’ he said with a grin, ‘tell her you are having salad.’
‘It’s Dave Harvey at the lab,’ replied Phineas and pulled a face. He listened for a moment, then switched off the phone. ‘I’ve got to go back to the lab,’ he said. ‘He says it’s important. I think you should come as well.’
*
Dick went with him as they were sharing the car of Phineas, and anyway he too wanted to find out what was so important. ‘It’s the flint that was found in Badgers Lane,’ explained Phineas on the drive back. ‘Dave started extracting some material from it, but wants me now to come and confirm it, because it’s so important.’
‘But you trust him, don’t you?’ asked Dick. ‘Do you have to confirm it?’
‘Of course I trust him. But if it’s going to be used as evidence in Crown Court you have to be one hundred percent certain of your facts, and one hundred percent accurate in your modus operandi, and one hundred percent in every other damned thing. Defence lawyers are ferocious beasts and can shoot holes in your evidence if you are not careful. Dave thinks what he’s turned up is crucial, so he wants to dot every i and cross every t. What’s more, he can’t find Adam Maguire, and it’s important that he gets this information as well.’
‘Sounds exciting,’ said Dick. ‘Although you are talking in riddles as far as I’m concerned!’
‘Hmm!’ grunted Phineas, speeding out of the golf club car park. ‘Dave Harvey sounded very worried.’
*
Adam was on his way back home with Tess after her evening walk. It was such a balmy evening that he’d taken her for a much longer walk than usual, and together they’d walked through the forest and down to Stibbington harbour. Once there, he took the back lanes through the old part of Stibbington, past the police station, behind the Infirmary and past the old mortuary, which was now the headquarters of the police forensic department. He noticed Dave Harvey’s car was still there, and as he passed the entrance to the building, Phineas drove past at what Adam considered a dangerously high speed. He stood and watched as Phineas parked the car in his usual untidy fashion, before jumping out and hurrying towards the front door of the building. Then, to his surprise, he saw Dick Jamieson also climb out at a slower speed, and follow Phineas. The automatic blue front door swung open before Phineas reached it. Obviously someone inside was expecting him. It had to be Dave Harvey, and if Phineas was in a hurry, it had to be important. And if it was important, it was probably something to do with his case. It had to be, he decided, so he pulled Tess’s lead shorter and made his own way towards the blue door, now slowly closing. Together, he and Tess managed to squeeze in before the door closed, and he made his way along the passage towards Phineas’ lab, from where he could hear voices.
Pushing open the door he was confronted by three men standing staring at a read out from the computer screen. The only other person there was one of Phineas’s juniors, Colin, on the opposite side of the room fiddling with a set of petri dishes.
‘There’s no doubt about it,’ Dave Harvey was saying as Adam walked in. ‘There’s nothing there at all except Jemima’s blood and DNA and Ruth’s DNA.
As the door swung to behind him, they all turned and looked at him. At the same time, he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate and fished it out. ‘My God,’ he said. ‘It’s Lizzie. She’s at Avon Hall and saying Ruth is the murderer, and asking for help.’
‘That’s what this says,’ said Phineas pointing to the screen full of black, white and grey bars, which meant nothing at that moment to Maguire. ‘This is telling us that Ruth is the murderer.’ He pointed across to the granite surface of one of the lab cupboard tops, upon which now reposed the large flint retrieved from Badger Lane. ‘And that is the murder weapon. It still has some of the unfortunate Jemima’s skin and blood on it, as well as DNA from Ruth’s hands.’ There was a moment’s silence as everyone looked at the flint. Phineas spoke again, ‘there’s no doubt about it, I’m afraid. This is definitely the murder weapon, and Ruth Villiers is without doubt the murderer.’
‘Let’s go,’ said Maguire, and started towards the door.
*
It seemed an age to Maguire before they left the station and started out for Avon Hall. He was worried about Lizzie’s message, but even so found it difficult to believe she was in real danger. What did she mean, need help?
For his part, Phineas carefully wrapped up the flint and put it in a black canvas bag. ‘It may help to confront her with this,’ he said.
Nobody bothered to argue with him, and it was only a few minutes before they departed for Avon Hall. He rang Steve and Kevin, gave them a brief resume, and told them to get the squad car, and get themselves to Avon Hall and meet him there. Phineas’s lab technician agreed to look after Tess and promised to feed her as well as keep her until Adam returned.
‘Lizzie’s message sounds as if she’s frightened.’ Adam worried as he sat beside Phineas in the car, for once not complaining about excessive speed as they lurched through the lanes around Stibbington on their way to Avon Hall.
‘Rubbish. You can’t tell emotions from a text message,’ replied Phineas briskly.
‘And anyway,’ said Dick, who’d decided to go with them, ‘Lizzie is not a woman to frighten easily.
*
At Avon Hall, Lizzie, the woman they thought didn’t frighten easily, was in fact very frightened. She sat quite still with her eyes half closed, feigning drowsiness, but keeping a careful eye on Ruth as well as the rest of the family. Amelia finished dressing the cut on Lizzie’s head, and was now sitting beside Ruth on the chaise longue opposite her. Tom and Simon had gone back to the icehouse to secure the door after calling the police.
Ruth, Lizzie noticed, had demurred at this suggestion. ‘I really don’t think it’s necessary to call the police out tonight. We can leave it until tomorrow.’
But Simon had insisted. ‘You both say there is something down there at the bottom of the icehouse, something that wasn’t there the last time anyone looked,’ he said firmly. ‘And I know it remains a crime scene because all that tape is still tied around the area. The police definitely need to know tonight, not tomorrow; otherwise they can say we are obstructing the case.’
‘We’ll nail a couple of planks across to make it safer,’ said Tom, ‘and leave it like that until the police arrive.’
Lizzie looked across at Ruth. What was she going to do? What would she say? How could she just sit there knowing that her crime would be found out any moment now? But would it? I may be certain of her guilt, she thought, but what actual proof do I have? Nothing, except that moment of madness when Ruth hit me and tried to push me down into the icehouse; but that’s my opinion no one else’s. And, Ruth can deny it, so now the Villiers family all think that I am confused because I’ve fallen and hit my head. But I didn’t fall; I was pushed and clouted on the head by that mad woman sitting opposite me. Ruth Villiers. Oh, I wish Adam Maguire would come.
She sank lower down in the armchair and then suddenly felt the plastic bags of evidence she’d collected from the wheelbarrow crackle in her pocket. It reminded her that there was other proof not yet fou
nd by the police, and maybe she had it in the plastic bags in her pockets. Stuff she’d pass over to Adam as soon as she met him. Oh, if only he would come soon. Surely he must have looked at his mobile by now and read her message.
As if in answer to a prayer, the sound of a police siren pierced through the darkness of the night. It was faint at first but grew louder, louder. Then, the next moment Adam Maguire and Phineas Merryweather walked through the still open front door of Avon Hall and joined them in the library, while the siren was still blaring outside. Simon and Tom were following them, closely followed by the dogs who were perplexed with the sudden hive of activity.
‘Why is a car with a police siren screaming coming up the drive?’ asked Tom.
‘Because it’s got a couple of over excited young policemen in it,’ muttered Maguire, and walked straight over to Lizzie. ‘You look as if you have been in the wars,’ he said and put his hand on her shoulder.
‘She had a little fall,’ said Ruth quickly. ‘If I hadn’t been there she’d have fallen right down into the bottom of the icehouse.’
Lizzie opened her mouth to object but Adam squeezed her shoulder and signalled her to keep silent. ‘Are you OK now?’ he asked. Lizzie nodded, and Adam looked at Ruth. ‘We’ll deal with everything now,’ he said.
Outside the siren suddenly screeched to a halt. The silence, inside and out in the garden, was total and eerie. A few seconds later Steve Grayson and Kevin Harrison burst through the open front door and joined them in the library. Both dogs jumped up again and began excitedly circling the room. ‘Get rid of those damned dogs,’ said Maguire.
Amelia Villiers rose imperiously. ‘You can’t tell us what to do with our own dogs, in our own house,’ she said.
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