by Gwen Moffat
‘Now — this afternoon. We’ll be there, give her support. It’s my ranch, they’re not to know I don’t spend all my time there. You’ll have come with me for the ride.’
‘Why did they contact Val? Edna’s the next of kin.’
‘That’s easy. If the guy in charge doesn’t know the family, he knows of us. Edna’s old so Val’s better suited to take the news. Probably tried Clyde but he’ll be at Glenaffric. What the police have in mind, they’ll be picking up Val on their way to see Edna.’ It was a firm statement, spoiled by the qualification: ‘Don’t you think?’
10
There were no strange cars at the homestead, only one pick-up visible and no sign of the piebald or Byer, which could be significant. Val, looking haggard and breathing liquor fumes, saw Miss Pink looking around and said harshly, ‘I didn’t have to send him packing; all I did was mention the police and I couldn’t see him for dust.’
‘He could have a record.’
Val’s eyes sharpened. ‘I never thought of that.’
‘We’d better be doing something,’ Sophie broke in impatiently. ‘Business as usual; we don’t want them to see us in a huddle when they arrive.’
They came in an unmarked car. They were in plain clothes and they were both lieutenants. Tension was racked up a notch in view of their rank, although there was marginal reassurance in their appearance. A heavy older fellow in stained Stetson and shades, his jowly face flushed with the heat, and a younger man: sleek, with an expensive haircut and a carefully tended moustache. They both wore Levis but where the boots of the older man were worn and scuffed, the younger sported a dashing pair in grey snakeskin.
The older man, Hilton — no Christian names were offered — steered Val to the porch where they were visible but their conversation was inaudible. The youngster, Cole, stayed to chat to the older women. He talked ranching in an amateur fashion, concentrating on Sophie but occasionally including the English visitor with a warm smile. Miss Pink returned the smile. He confessed that he hadn’t been riding long and confided his ambition to take the trail through the Black Canyon.
‘That’s no place for beginners,’ Sophie said sternly. ‘You have to gain experience elsewhere, like on the Bobcat Hills. And you’ll need a steady horse for that trail; there are some nasty steep places above the Thunder river.’
‘But you take the dudes in there, ma’am.’
‘Not me. My niece does, but her clients aren’t beginners and our horses are carefully selected. I’d never put a dude up on a horse I didn’t know was steady as a rock.’ Sophie’s eyes strayed to Ali, grazing in a paddock beyond the corrals. Miss Pink saw that the police had talked to other people before they came to the homestead; someone had told them that dudes were taken through the canyon. On the other hand it could well be public knowledge.
‘So you must be an expert rider, ma’am.’ Cole favoured Miss Pink with his boyish charm.
‘You flatter me, Mr Cole.’
‘You were there when Charlie Gunn’s horse spooked, right?’
‘Who’ve you been talking to?’ Sophie was furious.
‘Not when he spooked,’ Miss Pink put in smoothly. ‘Some time afterwards. Although we’d seen the pack-horse —’ She stopped.
‘Yes, ma’am? You saw the pack-horse — when?’
The women exchanged glances. ‘The day before the search,’ Miss Pink said. ‘And that would be the day after Mr Gunn went to the cabin.’
Cole turned to Sophie. ‘So he’d have been dead when you saw the pack-horse?’
She blinked, bewildered by the changed tone of the interview, for interview it was and no longer idle chat about ranching and learning to ride. She looked away for relief and fastened on Ali in the paddock. ‘It could have been there a while,’ she admitted.
‘This is the same horse?’
She was astonished. ‘This is a stud! He was my brother-in-law’s saddle-horse, the one that threw and dragged him.’
‘Really? He looks quiet enough now.’
‘He’s settling nicely.’ She was grudging. ‘He’s a horse likes women better than men. Can’t say I blame him.’
‘He was badly knocked about and confused,’ Miss Pink butted in, trying to keep the record straight. ‘He’ll be quiet for a while, till he recovers from the trauma.’
Sophie looked startled but she was silent as the message sank in. She should watch her words; she spoke her mind without considering the consequences, a trait that seemed to run in the family. Uneasily, and without glancing that way, Miss Pink wondered how Val was faring with the senior partner.
‘How was it you didn’t see the horse when you were having your picnic by the lake?’ Cole asked. ‘That was where you found him next day, wasn’t it?’
Miss Pink’s heart sank. Whom could they have been talking to? ‘We were low down,’ she said. ‘The stallion was higher, and further on — if he was there at all when we were eating our lunch. He could have wandered about. But there’s timber and boulders back there, the kind of country you could hide a herd of horses.’
‘He didn’t neigh when he saw your animals.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘If you know, why ask?’ Sophie was losing it but he was unperturbed.
‘There’s a lot we don’t know — like the state of the cabin when you were in there. You’d have been the first people inside after Mr Gunn left. What sort of condition was it in?’
Sophie hesitated. Miss Pink tried to remember whom they’d talked to about the state of the cabin. Sophie was hesitating too long, transfixed by Cole’s stare. ‘Was it locked?’ he prompted.
Sophie swallowed visibly. ‘Yes,’ Miss Pink said. ‘Val — Mrs Jardine and I were the first people there after the body was found. We went down for blankets to wrap it in. The cabin was locked. We didn’t see any significance in that. The pack-horse had been standing outside, ready to go. We assumed Mr Gunn had seen a bear at that moment and gone after it. What other explanation could there be? There were signs of bear about — in fact, that was why he went there in the first place: to repair the roof where a bear had tried to break in.’
He regarded her shrewdly, as if well aware that words could be used as a smokescreen. He might be ignorant where horses were concerned but this was no callow youngster. ‘And inside?’ he asked.
‘There was nothing remarkable about it. Obviously he’d packed up ready to leave — and then the bear appeared.’ Now she saw a flaw in that theory, moreover Cole had seen it too.
‘But the horses, this horse’ — he gestured towards Ali — ‘he didn’t spook.’
The women shook their heads mutely. Sophie had seen the flaw too. ‘But he spooked the other time,’ Cole pointed out, ‘the time he threw his rider.’
Miss Pink said, ‘Possibly on the second occasion the bear was very close, whereas he’d been in the distance when Mr Gunn started after him.’
‘Of course. It must have been a shock when you ladies came on the body.’
‘Not really,’ Miss Pink said. ‘We found the stallion first, the saddle under its belly, so we were forewarned. We knew then that Charlie — Mr Gunn — was unconscious at the very least, probably badly injured. The state the body was in was a shock, of course, although not when you come to think about it.’
‘Easy enough done,’ Sophie said. ‘The foot slips through the stirrup when a guy is thrown.’
‘Funny thing,’ Cole mused. ‘The bear never came near the pack-horse and he couldn’t run. How do you explain that?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘He did eventually: broke his halter and ran home.’
‘Where did you find his rifle?’
She blinked. ‘Charlie’s rifle? We didn’t find it.’
Miss Pink asked chattily, as if overcome by curiosity, ‘Who’ve you been talking to, Mr Cole? You know more about it than we do.’
‘We have to speak to everyone; what one guy forgets the next one will remember, right?’ Their eyes moved and he stiffened. ‘Maybe I’ll ride in
those Bobcat Hills,’ he said. ‘Get some experience.’
Hilton was approaching. Behind him Val came down the steps and crossed to the barn.
Hilton looked benign, his flush subsided. He nodded at the stallion. ‘So there’s your killer,’ he said cheerfully.
Shocking bad taste. A reproof trembled on her tongue but Miss Pink was forestalled by Sophie. ‘It wasn’t malice,’ she said angrily. ‘He was crazed with fear.’
‘It happens.’ Hilton looked at the younger man and from him to the sky. ‘Weather’s going to break,’ he observed and grinned at their surprise. ‘Oh yes, I’m the country boy, he’s the townie’ — dismissing Cole with affable contempt — ‘he wants to ride your canyon. Me — you won’t get me within a mile of it. You don’t have a horse could carry me anyways — except that there stud.’
Sophie rose to the bait. ‘No one’s getting on him till I give the word.’
‘He belongs to you, ma’am?’
She moistened her lips. His eyes were invisible behind the shades. ‘He’ll be mentioned in the will?’
‘He goes to my great-niece,’ she said tightly. ‘We’re looking after him till he’s fit.’
‘Why can’t she take him?’
‘It’s just that he fetched up here after the accident and we have better facilities for nursing him.’
‘He don’t look as if there’s anything wrong with him.’
‘You didn’t see him then. He’s a lot better now. We’ll be taking him over there shortly but we’re going easy on him for the present: resting him. He had a hard time.’
He nodded. ‘I seen ladies do wonders with a mean horse. Well, we got work to do…’
*
Val was in the tack room. ‘He was asking me about the provisions of Charlie’s will,’ she told them. ‘It was no good me saying I didn’t know, because all the family knows, someone would have given the game away. So I told him. He didn’t show any reaction, except to remark that Jen had been favoured. I said she’d always been his favourite. We both acted as if there was nothing remarkable about the will.’
‘He didn’t ask any questions about Jen and — the estrangement?’ Sophie pressed.
‘No.’ Val looked from one to the other uncertainly. ‘He never mentioned it. Would he know?’
‘Cole — the other one — knew everything else,’ Miss Pink said wryly. ‘He implied they’d talked to other people before they came here. They had time. The pathologist had all day yesterday. He could have discovered the bullet track in the morning.’
‘July Fourth,’ Sophie reminded her. ‘It was a holiday. He needn’t have started the autopsy till this morning and it’s only a preliminary report.’
‘So they say, but they’re very well informed, Sophie.’
‘They haven’t talked to anyone in the family, and Sam would have told us if they’d been on to him.’ Her eyes widened. ‘What about Bret and Jen?’
They were silent, perhaps wondering how much the police knew, but Miss Pink considering how much there was to know, certain that for her part she had only pieces of the picture.
Val said, ‘He asked how close Clyde and I were to the place where the body was found. When we were out on the loop trail, I mean.’ Miss Pink had wondered that herself but it had been too delicate a question to ask.
Sophie had no such reservations. ‘How close were you?’
‘How do I know? We covered around ten miles that day and no one knows what time the accident happened. Besides, clearing the trail: using an axe and saw, we’d never have heard a shot.’
‘I didn’t think you would.’
‘So? He said that was why he’d asked the question — did we hear a shot? But you want to know did I leave Clyde and ride on and find Charlie in the meadows above Mazarine. Don’t look at me like that! I have an alibi.’
‘Did you tell Hilton that?’ Miss Pink was horrified. ‘That Clyde is your alibi?’
‘Of course not. There was no need. Hilton wasn’t accusing me of shooting Charlie, he was on a fishing trip. Actually, he was quite friendly; he asked about the trail rides: where we went, did I screen the dudes for competence, that kind of stuff. He’s a local guy, he knows the canyon, he understood when I said we didn’t stop at the cabin on our way home after clearing the trail; we saw the pack-horse outside, thought Charlie was around and pushed on because I didn’t want Ali behind my string, spooking them. He was making conversation, not really interested. He looks on this business as a chore; he’s close to retirement and he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of a smooth exit. He said so. He’s a dozy bugger, says he hates wilderness deaths; if you can’t land a chopper the only way in is on a horse and he doesn’t like to ride. Ask me, he’s too bone idle to go in the back country.’
‘Cole isn’t,’ Miss Pink said. ‘He’s young, enthusiastic and has bags of energy, I’ll be bound. He could be ambitious. And Hilton’s not as idle as he makes out, otherwise how did he make lieutenant? They know more than they disclosed and I’m afraid they know more now than when they arrived. Did you tell Hilton Jen was at Benefit?’
‘No. Jen wasn’t mentioned except that she’s the chief beneficiary in the will.’
‘I think he knows she’s there —’
‘Why did he want to know about Ali?’ Sophie burst in. ‘Why didn’t he ask Val if he wanted to know?’
‘Know what?’ Val was at a loss.
‘He wanted to know who owned the stud now. I told him, said we were taking him over to Jen soon as he was fit. I didn’t give anything away, did I?’ Sophie appealed to Miss Pink.
‘You told the truth.’
They drifted to the door of the barn and looked out at Ali, his fine neck arched as he nibbled at a foreleg. ‘Scab’s itching,’ Sophie said absently.
Miss Pink was frowning. If Val had it right Hilton hadn’t been much impressed by the cash that Jen stood to inherit, and yet Cole had shown interest in the ownership of the horse. Sophie maintained that no one in the family had talked to the police — but Byer knew the contents of the will. And so did Skinner — ‘Why would they do that?’ came Sophie’s voice.
‘I’m sorry, I was thinking — about Ali. Why would they do what?’
‘They’ve gone to see Edna — on her own —’
‘She’s Charlie’s widow,’ Val said. ‘Of course they have to see her. Clyde’s there, he’ll make sure they don’t bully her. Anyway, what can she tell them?’
‘Why would they need to talk to Edna at all?’ Sophie turned to Miss Pink.
‘As Val says, she is the widow and she was the last person to see —’ She stopped just in time. ‘They’ll want to see all the members of the family, naturally.’ She appeared to be stating the obvious but she was thinking: why detectives? Unless they knew it was a bullet track in Charlie’s shoulder and therefore he had been shot. It could still have been an accident, but when the value of his estate was taken into account then the question was answered. What it came down to in police thinking was that other question: Who benefits? No doubt about the answer to that one.
The police didn’t stay long at Glenaffric. Miss Pink assumed that Edna would phone Val as soon as they left but Val wasn’t leaving that to chance. She posted herself in the paddock from where, ostensibly cutting down thistles, she could keep the start of the Glenaffric track in view. The others sat on the porch, watching and waiting. ‘We should be with her,’ Sophie said, her eyes on Val, glimpsed intermittently beyond the corrals.
‘It would look suspicious: three of us chopping at weeds.’
‘I meant Edna. She’s my sister. She should have support at this moment.’
‘She has Clyde.’
There was no response to this. Miss Pink stared fixedly as Ali came into sight, plodding after Val. ‘You’re thinking Clyde doesn’t have the resources to cope,’ she said.
‘He could panic. Those two are a formidable team.’ There was no need for her to identify which two, certainly she wasn’t referring to Edna and Clyde.
‘If they bully — hell, if they even hint that everything isn’t as it should be, Clyde will go to pieces. He’s nervy.’
‘It’s you who are panicking. Just because Clyde inherits half a million —’
‘And you’re forgetting how close they were to the hunting cabin that day,’ Sophie pointed out.
‘You’re suggesting Val and Clyde — together — that they went to the cabin —’
‘Police thinking. You know how their minds work.’
Miss Pink was silent. A gate clanged. Val was coming through the corrals. ‘Now we’ll know,’ Sophie said, getting to her feet. ‘Come along, you’re with us. We could need you.’
Needed for what? To protect Clyde? Val and Clyde? Ridiculous, the police weren’t even sure that it was a bullet track.
*
‘They’ve taken Byer away,’ Edna said when Val asked why his pick-up had followed the police car towards Ballard. ‘They want him to take them to the place where the accident happened.’
Val grinned. ‘Not today, he won’t. The cloud’s dropping; it’ll be raining by nightfall.’
‘Is that so, dear?’ Edna fussed with paper napkins although they were in the kitchen, drinking coffee from mugs.
Clyde looked genuinely amused. Far from being in a panic, he appeared excited and eager. Miss Pink remembered his head bowed on his saddle and Val trying to comfort him after they found his father’s body. He was the type who went quiet in a panic. ‘What do they hope to find up there?’ she asked, not expecting an answer.
‘His rifle,’ Clyde told her. ‘And tracks.’ His eyes shone.
Looking round the circle she saw that, without actually smiling, they all had this air of quiet amusement, except for Edna, struggling to open a packet of cookies. And Miss Pink, the countrywoman, knew why they were amused. It was going to rain and rain washed out tracks. ‘Is that what they came for?’ she asked ingenuously. ‘To find Byer to act as guide?’
‘They wanted to know about Charlie’s will,’ Edna said, sitting down, glancing at their mugs, concerned to be hospitable. ‘I told them as much as I knew, bearing in mind Charlie could have drawn up another. We’ll know tomorrow, after the funeral.’
