A Grave in the Cotswolds

by Rebecca Tope

  ‘No idea. Maybe she had a good pension plan.’

  ‘What was her profession, do you know?’

  ‘I think she was some sort of civil servant,’ said Thea vaguely. ‘They get good pensions, don’t they?’

  I shrugged my ignorance. ‘We haven’t given her very much thought, have we?’

  ‘I have. Don’t forget I had all day Monday here waiting for the surveyor – who never showed up, by the way. I spent most of it thinking about her.’

  ‘So she got to the commune, and died that very first night. It must have been a big shock for them.’

  ‘You really believe she died of natural causes, do you?’

  I did not like the gleam in her eye, the eagerness for further complications and mysteries to solve. ‘I do,’ I said, with full emphasis. And then, as some sort of consolation, I added, ‘And I’m thinking maybe I do rather like your idea of going there tomorrow, after all. It would fill in the picture. If we can manage it, of course.’ Anxiety flooded through me. ‘I really ought to be at home all weekend.’

  Before she could prevail on me, there came another knock on the door. A polite restrained knock, unlike the thunderous banging of the night before.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was DI Basildon himself, looking fresh and smelling of aftershave. ‘Good morning, Mr Slocombe, Mrs Osborne,’ he greeted us with alarming cordiality. ‘We had a call to say you were here.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t really afford a hotel,’ I said defensively.

  ‘None of my business,’ he continued amiably. ‘Although I understand there is considerable uncertainty over your right to be here.’

  ‘It was you who told me the house was mine,’ I accused.

  ‘True. And under the circumstances, I have to take some of the responsibility, I realise that. But you certainly haven’t had time to take formal possession of the property, have you?’

  He was impossibly civil. It was like being hypnotised by a black mamba.

  ‘So why are you here?’ Thea demanded impatiently.

  ‘Simply to say that we do not anticipate any need to question you further today, which means you don’t have to hang around here if you need to be somewhere else. But please keep your phone switched on, and be ready to return at short notice.’

  ‘I can’t promise that,’ I protested. ‘You know what a hassle it was for me to get here yesterday. I need to know precisely what my position is. You’ve already lost me a customer.’

  His shrug was the merest flicker of a muscle, but it was no less annoying for that. ‘I’m afraid a murder investigation overrides almost everything else,’ he said with an air of infuriating self-importance. What power the man possessed, to interrupt and distort normal life.

  ‘You could have sent a constable round to tell us that,’ Thea said. ‘Why come yourself?’

  ‘I felt like a walk. It’s a fine morning – although they say it’ll rain later on.’

  ‘It’s an awfully long walk from Cirencester,’ she flashed. ‘Why don’t you admit you wanted to check that we really had spent the night here together?’ Her confrontational levels were escalating by the minute, and I did nothing to reduce them. It was a delight to watch her in action.

  ‘It’s none of my business,’ he said again, even more cheerfully.

  ‘That’s right. But you’ll be quite happy to spread the gossip, all the same. I know your sort. I’ve been around policemen for most of my adult life.’

  ‘Ah yes – your brother-in-law,’ he said, with a look of triumph at her obvious shock. ‘Although I wouldn’t have taken him for a gossipmonger.’

  ‘Not him, but his colleagues. He used to tell us about it.’

  ‘Mrs Osborne, I have rather belatedly come to the conclusion that you are a force to be reckoned with. I was slow to grasp just how helpful you can be, until yesterday. Do you think we could have another talk sometime soon?’

  She moved closer to my side, as if to protect me. ‘I don’t get it,’ she said. ‘You think I can help, when a man I’ve just spent the night with is your prime suspect?’

  ‘God, Thea!’ I squawked. ‘Don’t say it like that.’ I faced the detective. ‘Nothing happened. We slept in separate rooms.’

  ‘More fool you,’ he said with a manly shrug that did nothing for my confused conscience. ‘Well, must get on. Do keep us informed of your movements, Mr Slocombe, but please consider yourself free to travel anywhere within the UK.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, as sarcastically as I could manage.

  ‘Do you think they’ll tell Mrs Talbot we’ve been here?’ I asked, trying not to sound apprehensive.

  We’d spent a final half-hour in the house, putting everything back as it should be and gathering our meagre possessions.

  ‘Probably. At least, somebody will. Susan Watchett, most likely.’

  ‘How do you feel about that?’ It was not a question I asked often. Undertakers could enquire into preferences about hymns, and whether or not the deceased should be buried wearing his watch, but direct feelings were best left aside when arranging a funeral. I did, of course, take due notice of my wife’s emotions, but in recent years, they had been noteworthy mainly by their absence.

  ‘A bit embarrassed,’ Thea admitted. ‘Mostly by what Basildon said just now.’

  ‘Good, because so do I.’

  ‘We won’t do it again,’ she promised.

  ‘Right.’

  ‘And maybe Mrs Talbot won’t catch us, if we go now.’

  A flicker of rebellion stirred my soul. ‘What business is it of hers?’ I demanded. ‘She has no more rights over the house than I have.’

  ‘Attaboy!’ she crowed. ‘But I do think we’d be wise to avoid any more confrontations. If you’re ready, we’d better get going.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Anywhere.’

  I gave her a look, making it as stern as I could manage. It helped that she was several inches shorter than me, even though I was by no means tall. ‘I have no intention of simply driving aimlessly around England, trying to avoid an irate sister,’ I said. ‘I have responsibilities.’

  She returned the look. ‘That’s where we differ,’ she observed. ‘I have none at all, except for my dog.’

  ‘So that’s why you do the house-sitting. Now it makes sense. Your daughter said it was because you were running away from memories of your husband.’ Even after I said it, I felt no compunction at revealing what had surely been a confidence. I was not sufficiently fond of Jessica to protect her sensibilities. It was, however, riskily personal, and I held my breath in the seconds before she answered.

  ‘Good God – is that what she said?’

  ‘Something of the sort.’

  She looked away, her eyes unfocused, stroking her sharp little chin thoughtfully. ‘She’s partly right, I guess. I don’t like being by myself in the cottage. It drags me back to the past, which is never very healthy. Carl and I were perfectly happy. I’m not hung up or agonised about things we never said, or acts of cruelty we can never put right. But I turn into a different person when I’m at home. I was complacent, I dare say, and a bit dull. I didn’t do very much with my time. I’ve never had ambitions worth mentioning, but I kept up with the news and read books and went to films. I did various little jobs that left me plenty of spare time for being a wife and mother. Very old-fashioned sort of life, it was. I slip back into it if I’m not careful.’

  ‘Sounds fine to me.’

  ‘It doesn’t keep me engaged with people, though. That first house-sit I did, in Duntisbourne Abbots – when I was self-harming, as the jargon calls it, and playing Scrabble on the Internet, and smothering the dog with far too much affection – a nice young man got himself murdered, I was suddenly switched into something real. I had incredibly real conversations with people. I could see their hurt, as if I had magic spectacles. I immersed myself in trying to work out why the murder had happened, going out and accosting people. I was braver than I’d ever been in my life. It saved
me, I think, looking back now. I had no idea at the time, but bit by bit, I came out of the tunnel and threw myself into other people’s trouble.’

  It was a heartfelt speech, and I could see she was working it out as she went along. It felt fresh and vigorous, as if she had never uttered quite these thoughts before. I was being handed something precious and was well aware of the privilege.

  ‘But now you’re going to drive me to a railway station, and then you’ll go home to Witney,’ I said firmly.

  She looked as if I’d dashed cold water in her face. ‘Will I?’ she said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But tomorrow I’ll come to Somerset and collect you and we’ll go to the co-housing open day.’

  ‘Oh.’ I had already forgotten about that. ‘Is that what we agreed? Is tomorrow Saturday already?’ It didn’t seem possible.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘But that’s far too much driving. It’s crazy. Think of your carbon footprint.’

  ‘Bother my carbon footprint. I like driving, and it’s not so far, really. As I said, I’ve got nothing else to do.’

  We drove off, towards Moreton-in-Marsh, where Thea thought I might get a train, and we got there just as one was leaving. It was an hour before the next, so we sat in the little café and drank coffee for a bit. I phoned Karen to ask, somewhat diffidently, whether she could meet me at Castle Cary. She agreed quite placidly, asking no questions. I couldn’t shake off a feeling that she didn’t much care where I was. The contrast with Thea, whose whole attention was on me and my predicament, was stark. Any man would have warmed to it and made the most of it.

  ‘The police were playing with me,’ I said, with some bitterness. ‘There was never any need to stay here overnight. It could all have been done over the phone.’

  ‘That would be far too easy,’ she suggested.

  ‘Perhaps they have some secret plan, using me as a pawn, or bait or something.’

  She smiled. ‘Shame it’s not Gladwin in charge. She might be up for a bit of double-dealing. As it is, I don’t get the feeling Basildon’s very subtle.’

  ‘The main question has to be – do they genuinely believe I killed the stupid man?’

  ‘You fit the facts,’ she shrugged. ‘They’ll be tempted to keep you top of the list.’

  ‘But will they carry on investigating? Will they look for anybody else?’

  ‘Depends how pushed they are. You can’t rely on it. They’ve had nearly a week to sift through all the various lines of enquiry, and I get the impression there’s nothing remotely interesting, apart from you and that grave. But they’re stuck because they’ve got to find hard evidence, before they take it to the CPS. They won’t have much forensic material, with it being outdoors and the wind and everything.’

  ‘What do you mean? They wouldn’t have any whatever the weather – if I didn’t do it, how could there be evidence?’

  ‘Because you were with him. You might have touched him. We’ve been over all that.’ She spoke patiently, but I could see she thought it an unnecessary repetition.

  ‘They’ve got the murder weapon. Surely whoever used it would leave flakes of skin or sweat or something on it?’

  ‘In theory, I imagine so. The reality doesn’t always work out according to the textbook.’

  ‘Is it right, what Paul said? That a single blow wouldn’t produce any blood on the weapon? It sounds a bit odd.’

  ‘I have no idea. I guess if you kind of swung it at him, and then off again right away, there wouldn’t be time for the bleeding to start before the rock had bounced off. I mean, there always does seem to be blood on the weapon.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. And I hope we’re not going to test it.’

  I niggled at it for a few more minutes, trying to visualise the moment of impact. ‘Heads do bleed profusely,’ I said.

  ‘True. There was plenty of blood on the grass to prove it.’

  ‘And maybe on the clothes of the real murderer.’

  She nodded non-committally. I knew I was going over old ground, talking for the sake of it, with a faint hope that some amazing insight would arise, if I went over it enough times.

  The next train arrived punctually, and I clutched my expensive ticket.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ asked Thea.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘You’ve done far too much for me already.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ she said, as the train approached.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I prevaricated. ‘It won’t be easy. What am I going to tell Karen?’

  ‘The whole truth, of course. Why not?’

  A certain turbulence inside me suggested that it was not going to be as simple as she liked to think. For a start, I had no intention of telling Karen that I was out on police bail, having been identified as prime suspect in a murder. ‘I might say I’m going to meet a client,’ I suggested. ‘That would save her a lot of worry.’

  ‘Up to you,’ said Thea tightly. ‘Entirely up to you.’

  It was not up to me, and we both knew it. Thea was in charge. She had dictated the timetable for the Saturday, whereby she arrived at my door at ten, and drove me off to the co-housing place, forcing me to explain to my wife just who this woman was. I left it until first thing on Saturday before breaking it to Karen that I was abandoning her yet again. The story about a client wanting to arrange a funeral fell apart before it could be voiced. If Karen had been incurious enough to accept it, Maggs never would. And even if Maggs was not actually present, Karen might mention it to her, and in no time I’d be embroiled in two conflicting accounts of where I had been and who I had been with.

  ‘It’s to do with the trouble in the Cotswolds,’ I said carefully. ‘The police think I had something to do with a murder up there, and I need to go and see some people, to try to sort it all out. Thea Osborne is helping me. She knows everybody involved, and can smooth the way.’ It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was near enough.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Karen, with disconcerting mildness. ‘What time will you be home?’

  It was, after all, the first day of the Easter holidays. The kids were excited and noisy. It was a rerun of the previous weekend, and I felt badly about it. ‘No later than four,’ I said. ‘Probably quite a bit sooner than that.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Kaz – are you all right?’ I gave her a searching look. Her skin was a bad colour, and a groove had settled between her eyes. ‘Have you got a headache?’

  ‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘But no worse than yesterday. I hardly notice it. It’s fine, Drew. You go off and help the police, or whatever.’

  I came within a whisker of calling Thea to abort the whole exercise. Karen’s indifference was much more worrying than outright objections would have been. It was as if she only dimly understood the situation, and found the effort of grasping it too great. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go,’ I said. ‘I’d much rather be here with you.’

  She met my eyes with a dazed expression. ‘I’ll be all right,’ she said. ‘I’m perfectly happy to pootle about with the kids. We’ll have fun. What’s the problem?’

  Viewed like that, she was right. I almost envied her the lazy day with the two most delightful children in the world. Even if they spent hours in front of DVDs, it would be cosy and contented and undemanding.

  ‘No problem,’ I agreed breezily. ‘You’ll have a lovely day and I’ll be getting myself into trouble and annoying people.’

  ‘See you later,’ she said, turning away from me.

  It worked just as Thea and I had planned. I knew the way, more or less, and we arrived in time for a welcoming mug of coffee in a big kitchen. About ten people had turned up for the open day – which was two more than expected, because Thea and I had neglected to give advance notice.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ laughed a large fair woman, unconvincingly. ‘We can always squeeze you in.’

  It turned out that a buffet lunch was to be provided, as well as a series of talks by current r
esidents. Everyone assumed that Thea and I were a couple, and we were whisked from the kitchen to a breezy field of polytunnels and fruit bushes, then to another field containing free-range pigs, then another with geese and a pond, and eventually to the communal sitting room for a question-and-answer session before lunch. Everything was riddled with jargon words that I barely even tried to understand: intention was one. It apparently meant a shared interest which brought the group together in the first place. In the case of this particular community, it was self-sufficient food production, which seemed harmless enough to me. I was even mildly persuaded that the whole enterprise was virtuous and reasonable and should be applauded.

  ‘We must ask them about Mrs S,’ Thea hissed at me, as we toured the fields. ‘That’s what we came for.’

  ‘Easier said than done,’ I hissed back.

  ‘We need to split up and talk to as many people as we can. Funnily enough, there’s a man here who I know vaguely. I met him two years ago, on my first house-sit. He might be useful. It’s weird seeing him again. I had no idea he was thinking of moving.’

  And then we caught sight, simultaneously, of a figure that was familiar to us both.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘It’s that boy, Mrs Simmonds’ nephew, what’s-his-name – Jeremy!’

  ‘So it is,’ I agreed, impressed that she had remembered his name. ‘What on earth is he doing here?’

  ‘Maybe he belongs here.’

  ‘Without his mother? He’s not old enough, surely?’

  ‘Maybe he comes to help out in the holidays. Or just for today.’

  ‘We don’t really want him to see us, do we?’ I said, slowly turning my back on the boy and hoping Thea would do the same.

  ‘He won’t remember us,’ she said. ‘Boys that age don’t even look at grown-ups.’

  ‘I think he might remember me,’ I argued softly. ‘He watched quite closely while I was burying his beloved aunt. And I had to show him how to carry the coffin. I think he might remember that.’

  ‘You could be right,’ she conceded. ‘But we are out of context here. He’s probably not interested in visitors.’