Stark frowned when Ravyn uncrossed his arms and reached for the digital recorder. The guv’nor always used recordings or seemed to refer to notes in court or when reporting to most people, but with Stark he usually quoted verbatim.
“Bloody hell,” Stark breathed when the interview was ended. “I don’t believe it. She’s falling on her bleeding sword for him.”
“A mother’s love.”
“We’ve got to get her to retract it, sir,” Stark said. “Vainglory was an unmitigated prat, but I think he tried to do the right thing at the end. Treadwell can’t be allowed to walk. We have to talk her out of this. Brooks has to know she’s lying.”
“She won’t talk to us, Stark, and we cannot force her,” Ravyn said. “Brooks is drafting the confession. When she signs it, that will be it for her. And for our investigation into Delbert Vainglory’s and Annie Treadwell’s deaths.”
“Prison for her?”
“I think Brooks is sharp enough to have her certified unfit to plead,” Ravyn said. “If he’s not, I doubt CPS would let it come to trial, a moot point since she’s pleading guilty. She doesn’t want a trial, and, either way, she’s not going to get it.”
“She can’t hope to save Treadwell from being done for Annie’s murder, can she?”
Ravyn shook his head. “That’s not the point, Stark. She doesn’t want him tried for Vainglory’s murder.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“Midriven is not London,” Ravyn said. “In London, if a pillar of the community is convicted of murdering his daughter to hide a pattern of abuse, it’s accepted, is it not?”
“Too right,” Stark said. “Convicted in the press before he ever stands in the dock, and in people’s minds, whether they know him or not. The public loves dirt.”
“In Midriven, few people will believe in his guilt,” Ravyn said. “Those who do will speak of it only in the softest whispers.”
“We got him dead to rights, sir, no matter what his brief does to twist the evidence,” Stark said.
“The trial will be in held Stafford and the case against him will be presented by strangers.” Ravyn sighed. “When it is Us versus Them, we’re no less strappers than you are, Stark.”
“His deed is undeniable.”
“A man may kill his wife or a wife her husband, but murdering the next generation?” Ravyn shook his head. “A sin against God, a violation of the laws of man, but, most of all, an attack upon the village. It is unthinkable.”
“But the evidence, sir: how can they ignore it?”
“Evidence is no match for belief.”
“The Beast?” Stark asked. “They’ll still blame the Beast?”
Ravyn nodded. “Faith needs no proof beyond another story that supports all that has gone before.”
Stark fumed. He held back the words trying to escape his lips. Considering the storm already raging in his mind, he decided it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut.
“It’s different with Vainglory,” Ravyn said into the silence. “It was necessary in Gail’s mind to protect him from being brought to trial for that murder.”
“I don’t see why, sir,” Stark said. “You were right when you told Brooks we had as much evidence against her as him, all of it circumstantial. Finding the body, which we would have done even without her, would only have proved murder, not who did it. The CPS might have sent us packing for lack of evidence or lost the case without an eyewitness statement. He could have walked.”
“Convicted or not, James Treadwell would always be the man who murdered the resident constable,” Ravyn said. “Now, he’ll be the man who tried to protect his mum by hiding a body.”
Stark squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fists to his temples. He wanted to scream in frustration, but dared not. He knew that any outburst on his part would inevitably end in confession.
“Delbert Vainglory was not well thought of in Midriven, a prat, as you’ve often said, but he was one of their own,” Ravyn continued. “Treadwell is also one of their own, but while Vainglory was looked down on, Treadwell was actively hated. In a contest between the prat and the bully, the prat wins. Besides, there is one other thing to consider.”
Stark looked at Ravyn but said nothing.
“No Beast was involved,” Ravyn said.
Inner turmoil now under control, more or less, Stark said: “Just a bestial man.”
“Who was helping his mum.”
“Won’t believe her, will they?” Stark said. “I mean, really?”
“They will believe she would not lie, not about this,” Ravyn said. “Gail is a well-respected lady of an old family. Despite time and change, most villages are conservative and tradition-bound.”
Stark nodded. “So I’ve noticed, sir.”
Ravyn stood and removed the memory card from the recorder so the interview could be transcribed.
“Well, like it or not, that’s about it,” Ravyn said. “I’ll take care of wrapping up here. You go back to the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Everything sorted out?”
“Sir?”
“The reason you were called away so abruptly,” Ravyn said. “I hope you managed to straighten out whatever it was.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry if it buggered things up.”
Ravyn shook his head. “Everything that happened would have happened, no matter whether you were here or not.”
“If I could have put off…” Stark fell silent. Unsure of where he might be going, he decided to go nowhere.
“Not problems at home, I hope?”
“Sort of.”
“Sorry to hear that, Stark,” Ravyn said. “Your personal life is your own, but I hope this does not mean…”
“Oh, no, sir, not that again—we’re fine, me and Aeronwy,” Stark said, hastily. Ravyn did not pry into his life, but a chance encounter was always a possibility. “More a house thing, sir.”
“Ah.” Ravyn nodded. “Demanding things, houses, devouring both our time and money. Always something to be done. Recently, I had to sink a small fortune into mine. Windows.”
Stark looked up. “Sir?”
“New windows,” Ravyn said. “Old house, inherited from one of my aunts. Cost real money, but the builder said the new windows will save me even more. Simple thing as that—windows.” He shook his head. “Well, you’d better get along, see to the Martin girl.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ravyn’s mobile chimed with an incoming text. “Odd.”
“Sir?”
“Superintendent Heln has summoned me to his office.”
“Oh?”
“Probably wants an update,” Ravyn said. “At least I can report this tied up, after a fashion, even if the Martin case is still open. Go on over and see how she’s doing. I’m sure young Barnes is holding the fort, but… Well, on your way.”
“Yes, sir.”
After Stark stumbled out the door, Ravyn forwarded the text he had received from Heln. On his way to Heln’s office he dropped the memory card off for transcription. Well accustomed to his ways, the old dragon in charge of the administrative assistants, called typists once upon a time in Ravyn’s youth, promised him a copy as soon as possible and not to pester her about it.
Smiling faintly, Ravyn knocked upon the door.
“Come.”
Ravyn entered. “You wanted to see me, Superintendent?”
“Close the door behind you.”
Heln, working on a budget spreadsheet, had yet to look up. He changed numbers in the cells and totted columns and rows. He was a man of small stature, made to seem even smaller by the size of the desk he had chosen for his office. He had jet hair, a thin face and a nose as pointed as any weasel who ever invaded Toad Hall.
As Ravyn waited, he reviewed files of those associated with the abduction of Lisa Martin. Since he now knew for a certainty that Annie’s death was an entirely separate matter, he eliminated anyone associated merely through an intersection of their li
ves.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Inspector.” When Ravyn failed to respond, Heln said: “Chief Inspector.”
“No problem, sir,” Ravyn said. “I am tying up the Treadwell and Vainglory murders. Afterwards, I’ll join Stark at the hospital, see if there is any change in the Martin girl.”
“The father, I seem to recall?”
“Yes, sir,” Ravyn said. “And his mother confessed to killing our resident constable, likely to keep him from being prosecuted for that one as well. I feel certain she did not do it.”
“But she confessed willingly, right?”
“Quite willingly, sir,” Ravyn said. “Through her solicitor.”
“Well, then that’s that isn’t it?” Heln said. “CPS ought to be happy with us, giving them everything they need for the Midriven case, tying it up with a bow.”
“Lisa Martin’s abduction is still an active investigation,” Ravyn said. “The situation in Midriven is not yet ended.”
“Put the father…Treadwell, is it?” At a nod from Ravyn, Heln said: “Give Treadwell up for the kidnapper. Put him in the frame.”
“James Treadwell is not in the frame,” Ravyn said. “He has an alibi. The Treadwell and Martin cases are entirely separate.”
“Then drop it on that murderer who got himself killed,” Heln said. “He can’t very well defend himself, can he?”
“Billy Tremble is a possibility for Lisa Martin’s abductor,” the chief inspector admitted. “Should evidence come forth indicating his involvement, I will consider it.”
“The girl is still dummied?”
“Still in catatonic stupor,” Ravyn said.
“So, how is Sergeant Stark working out, Ravyn?” Heln asked.
“He is coming along very well, sir,” Ravyn said. “He had to unlearn some bad habits, but that was expected, him coming from the Met. They have different ways of doing things in the City.”
“Scotland Yard is very efficient,” Heln said.
“As an organisation, yes.”
“He was sacked, you know.”
“I know he was transferred,” Ravyn said. “The Met’s loss was Hammershire’s gain. And I think it was better for Stark as well. Many a young copper has been lost in the mire of London.”
“He tell you why he was sacked?”
“If he shared the reason for his transfer,” Ravyn said, “I would consider it confidential.”
“You would, would you?” Heln started to stand, then thought better of it. “I don’t think it’s wise to trust a…”
Sharp raps sounded upon the door.
Heln frowned. “Come.”
ACC Karen Ramsey stepped into the office. “I’m sorry. Have I come at the wrong time? Am I interrupting?”
Heln beamed her a dazzling smile. “Not at all, ma’am. Chief Inspector Ravyn was updating me on the Treadwell and Vainglory cases in Midriven. He and Sergeant Stark have closed them both.”
“Splendid,” Ramsey said. “Congratulations, Chief…”
“Unfortunately, they have yet to make any headway on the Lisa Martin abduction,” Heln added. “They have no clues, and she cannot add anything useful, still being catatonic…torpid.”
“Stupor,” Ravyn said.
“Yes, stupor.” Heln frowned. “Is there something I can help you with, ma’am? I need to speak to the chief…”
Ravyn’s mobile chimed. “Ravyn.” He listened a moment, then said: “I’m on my way.” He pocketed his mobile and turned. “I must go. Lisa Martin has been attacked.”
“Go,” Ramsey said.
As Ravyn flew out the door, he heard Ramsey say: “When you get a chance, Superintendent Heln, could you get me a man-hours breakdown on overtime for the past four quarters? No rush.”
Chapter 11
Third Girl
“A concentrated solution of wolfsbane, also known as Aconitum lycoctonum,” the doctor said. “It’s very uncommon, but traces were found in Miss Martin’s blood work, almost a tincture, so we had an inkling of where to start from the symptoms.”
Ravyn nodded. “Will he recover?”
“I think so,” the doctor replied. “Fortunately the needle broke in the struggle, so the constable did not receive as much of it as he might have.”
“And Miss Martin?”
“Unhurt,” the doctor said. “But unchanged.” He looked back at the room. “She’s owes her life to that boy.”
“When may I speak to him?”
The doctor shook his head. “Not for some time.”
“Is he unconscious?”
“No, not unconscious, but he’s in a bad way,” the doctor said. “I don’t want him disturbed unnecessarily.”
“I fear it is necessary, Doctor,” Ravyn said. “The nursing sister was out of the room with Mrs Martin. PC Barnes is the only witness to the attack. His information is vital.”
“How long will you…”
“Only as long as absolutely necessary.”
“Very well,” the doctor said. “No more than a minute.”
Ravyn nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. You said Miss Martin had been administered a tincture of wolfsbane.”
“That’s right.”
“The results would be, what?”
“Nothing life threatening, most likely,” the doctor replied. “A feeling of lassitude, probably some level of paralysis.”
“More for control then, do you think?”
“Yes, I think so,” the doctor said. “She would not cooperate, but would be less able to resist, less likely to attempt an escape.”
“Nevertheless, she did escape.”
“Two possibilities there,” the doctor said. “She was left alone long enough for the effects to wear off or the solution was too weak to do what was intended.”
“As if the abductor were either inexperienced with the drug or afraid to administer a higher dosage?” Ravyn suggested.
“That would account for it,” the doctor confirmed. “I am not a botanist, but it seems to me that anyone using something as obscure as wolfsbane, which is not the easiest plant to cultivate, would be intimately familiar with its properties.”
“Yes, I would think so as well,” Ravyn said. “Thank you.”
“If you want to question the constable, you better do it now.” The doctor levelled an accusing finger. “If I tell you to leave, you do so immediately. Understand?”
“Fully.”
The doctor led Ravyn to a room. Constable Barnes lay in bed, covered up to his naked chest. Several tubes ran from suspended plastic solution bottles to an intravenous feed taped to his inner arm. He was pale as moonlit marble. At seeing Ravyn, he tried to sit up.
“As you were, Constable,” Ravyn said.
“The girl, sir?” Barnes whispered. “No one will tell me.”
“She’s fine, Barnes,” Ravyn said. “You did well.”
“So helpless…” he breathed. “He did not pass…”
“Did you recognise the attacker?”
“No. He…”
“He what, Barnes?”
“Kept his face turned,” Barnes said. “Tried to keep his back to me. In his hand…syringe…” Barnes faltered. “Grabbed him…”
“Can you describe him at all?”
“Sorry, sir.” A spasm of pain gripped him. “Too fast…too close. The needle… Tried to hold him…couldn’t.”
“That’s all, Chief Inspector,” the doctor said.
“Yes, of course.” Ravyn started to turn, but Barnes gripped his arm with surprising strength. The chief inspector looked to the doctor, who nodded. “What is it, Barnes?”
“Didn’t smell…hospital” The young man’s voice was barely audible. “Smelled like trees…grain…paper…Uncle Fred’s pipe…”
Barnes’ hand slipped from Ravyn’s arm.
“Rest easy, lad.” Ravyn patted his shoulder and turned to the doctor. “Do your best for him.”
The medical man nodded.
As Ravyn exited the room, Stark approached.
“He’ll live.”
“You were right about the danger to Lisa Martin,” Stark said. “I guess this knocks Billy Tremble clear out of the frame.”
“Superintendent Heln will not be pleased.”
“Oh?”
“When he found out Treadwell could not have had anything to do with the abduction, he wanted it laid to rest with the late Mr Tremble,” Ravyn said. “Our villain is alive and well in Midriven.”
“And he’s terrified, I’ll bet,” Stark said. “The girl might wake up, tell us what happened. Barnes might have…” He glanced at the closed door. “Did he? They wouldn’t let me see him.”
Ravyn shook his head. “Kept his face averted. In the struggle, Barnes was concentrating on the syringe.”
“No joy from CCTV,” Stark said. “Not all the cameras work. Those that do caught his back, an averted face, nothing much to run with. Played it sly. He took some hospital whites, which made him invisible. The way you pegged the whole scenario is…”
“Is what, Stark?”
“Bloody annoying.”
Ravyn forced a smile. “We will maintain protection for her, for Barnes, too, but he won’t be back.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He played that card and it failed,” Ravyn said. “He can’t hope to be lucky a second time. The hospital has been embarrassed by the incident. They will be on the watch for unknown faces now. Besides, there are more important affairs to which he must attend.”
“Another girl?”
“If it wasn’t Treadwell or Tremble, then we are back to the idea that Lisa’s abduction is connected to all the previous disappearances, which connects it to both forest and Beast,” Ravyn said.
Stark rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I know we are running out of possibilities, but, still…” He shook his head and let out a snort of exasperation. “God! What I wouldn’t give for a good old-fashioned East End villain right about now—nab him, nick him and toss him in the chokey.”
“Country life not as simple as it looked from the Smoke?”
Beast of Robbers Wood (DCI Arthur Ravyn Mystery Book 3) Page 17
