Binscombe Tales - The Complete Series (10 page)

‘Have they located him yet?’

‘No, he ran off into the woods by Saint Catherine’s Mount and the University say that they haven’t seen him since.’

‘Poor boy,’ said Lottie.

‘To be honest,’ said Mr Wessner, who had previously been in deep thought, ‘I can’t see why you don’t resolve the whole matter by selling the damn car.’

‘Or by destroying it,’ agreed the Rector. ‘Couldn’t you put it through one of those crunching machines that turn motor cars into blocks of scrap?’

For a second, a weak spark of hope appeared in Trevor’s eyes, but it quickly faded and died when Tania answered for him.

‘No,’ she said, ‘that wouldn’t resolve it—not at all. Either way we’d be passing the problem on to the new owner or the scrap dealer and it’d still leave it as a mystery. No, I’ve thought of doing what you suggest but it wouldn’t be right.’

Lottie and Mr Disvan smiled at Tania in approval.

‘In theory,’ said the landlord, ‘there shouldn’t be a problem anymore, should there?  Else what’s the point of us getting up at this Godforsaken hour—begging your pardon, Padre—and having Mr Jagger here do his stuff?’

Trevor looked unconvinced but too lost to protest.

Mr Disvan now tried to repair the damage done. ‘Would you care for me to drive you both home?’

‘What, in our car?’

‘Yes, I’ve no fear of it.’

‘Would you?’ she said.

‘Certainly. The Reverend here has done what can be done to put it right and we should put some faith in his efforts.’

‘Well, it would be nice at first to have some company, I must admit,’ she said.

‘If you wish, I’ll come too,’ said the Rector.

Trevor suddenly roused himself and reassumed, albeit by obvious force of will, his former robust manner.

‘Thank you but no, that won’t be necessary. It’s very kind of you but I’m damned if I’m going to back down in the face of this nightmare. So okay, I’ve had to call in an exorcist; so all right, I’m out of my depth and in a strange world that doesn’t make any sense to me. But I’m going to stay with this… thing—and see it through!’

The landlord applauded. ‘Good for you, boy,’ he said.

These words of Trevor’s were more or less addressed to the company in general but now his tone suggested that he was talking to himself and vocalising some internal struggle. He spoke with genuine fervour.

‘This is our world. We belong here. It has its own rules and laws and—it’s more powerful than whatever’s out there in that car!’

Doctor Bani-Sadr, a known rationalist who had nevertheless listened respectfully to the service of exorcism, joined in with the landlord’s applause.

The Reverend Jagger and Mr Disvan exchanged apprehensive looks.

*  *  *

‘Well?’ said the landlord.

‘No problems so far,’ replied Trevor, ‘It’s as quiet as the... Well, nothing’s happened, anyway.’

‘The service must have worked,’ Tania agreed.

‘Have you told the Rector?’ asked Mr Disvan.

‘Yes,’ said Tania, ‘I rang him up. He sounded more relieved than us.’

‘Well, that figures,’ said Doctor Bani-Sadr, ‘if you’ll excuse me saying so. All that’s at stake for you is a car, but for Jagger it’s the reputation of his church and his whole system of beliefs that’s on the line isn’t it?’

‘I don’t think it is as simple as that, doctor,’ said Mr Disvan. ‘The rector didn’t guarantee anything.’

‘Don’t know why you should stick up for him, Disvan, it’s not as if you’re one of his believers,’ the doctor grumbled into his barley wine.

‘That’s neither here nor there.’

‘I disagree...’

‘The point is,’ Tania interrupted firmly, ‘that Reverend Jagger was kind enough to stretch a theological point in the first place in order to exorcise a car. I don’t suppose it’s done his career any great good in the Bishop’s eyes. The further and crucial fact is that it appears to have worked.’

‘So get shot of the car before something happens,’ advised Mr Wessner.

‘There may not be any need now,’ said Trevor.

‘Let’s hope not,’ said the landlord. ‘Excuse me while I serve this customer.’

He moved off to attend to a little old lady who had just entered. I recognised her as the owner of one of the ancient terraced houses directly opposite the pub. It was a rare event for either her or her diminutive husband to actually ever enter the Argyll.

‘What can I get for you, Mrs Singer?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. I didn’t come over here to buy anything. I came over to complain.’

‘What about, dear?  People been knocking your hedge around again at closing time, have they?’

‘Yes, but that’s not what I’m complaining about. I want to know who owns the yellow Fiesta parked out front.’

The public bar instantly fell silent.

‘I do,’ said Trevor with commendable calm.

‘Well, young man, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. And you, young lady. Your little girl’s been screaming and crying her eyes out for the best part of an hour. Isn’t it time you did something about it?’

A wild light blazed in Trevor’s eyes.

‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said, ‘it’s high time I did something about it!’

Thus saying he dashed from the pub.

*  *  *

‘Where do you think he was heading, Stan?’ said Mr Disvan.

A group of half a dozen of us were gathered round the Community Policeman’s bed in Saint Dismas’s Hospital in Goldenford.

‘From what you’ve said, my guess is that he was going to Pavlik Kolakowski’s scrap yard between Goldenford and the Winchester roundabout. He’s got a vehicle crusher there. Judging by where the car ended up, I should imagine that was his intention. Of course we’ll never know for sure.’

‘How did you come to get involved, then?’ asked Mr Patel.

A senior looking nurse who had been hovering around us, pretending to be occupied in some task, intervened at this point.

‘Please, gentlemen,’ she said, ‘remember that the constable is still technically in a state of shock. Don’t overtax him with questions or make him relive whatever upset him.’

‘Ignore her,’ the policeman said, ‘she just wants to keep me helpless and in her power for as long as possible. But for her say-so I could have gone home this morning. I’m all right, I tell you.’

‘The doctor and I think otherwise. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘If it’ll get rid of you, yes please. Anyway, gentlemen, to continue...’

‘Are you up to it?’ Mr Disvan interposed.

‘Insofar as I’ll ever be, yes.’

‘Okay then, carry on.’

‘Right. The answer to your question Sammy, before we were so rudely interrupted, is that I got called out to investigate reports of an abandoned car, partially obstructing the flow of traffic, on the very edge of my patch. I thought nothing of it because it’s surprising how many of them you get, quite serviceable cars many of them, until I recognised it as the one young Trevor Jones has been riding around in. What I didn’t know about was all the trouble he and Tania had been having—why wasn’t I told?’

‘It wasn’t really a “polis” matter, Stan,’ said Mr Disvan, ‘and you just didn’t happen to be around at the right time when things were going on.’

The recumbent policeman sighed.

‘Oh well, anyway, there the car was, abandoned on the inside lane looking as if it had skewed to a halt diagonally across the road. No sign of Trevor about, no note left or anything. A bit of a puzzle, I thought. So I looked inside and noticed that the keys were still in the ignition.’

‘But the engine was off?’ I asked.

‘Yes, the motor was quite cold. Well, as the station had rightly said, the car was obstructing traffic and so I got in with the intention of driving it over into a lay-by and out of harm’s way until Trevor could be located. Then, as I turned the keys, the radio suddenly came on—it must have been left running, you see. As God is my witness, you must believe me, Trevor’s voice came out of the radio together with that of a little girl talking to him and tormenting him. Trevor was screaming and begging for her to stop.

I listened for a little while, and then the next thing I knew was waking up in here. Very embarrassing for a policeman of all people to faint like that.’

Nobody responded for a minute or so and then Mr Disvan quietly spoke for us all.

‘What exactly was she saying to Trevor, Stan?’

What little colour there was in the policeman’s face rapidly fled. He seemed to forget our presence.

‘Stan?’ Disvan prompted.

He looked at us again but this time as if at strangers.

‘Believe me, you really don’t want to know. Nurse! Can you get these visitors to go, please?’

*  *  *

‘Well, thank you for telling me what you can,’ said Tania. ‘Would you like another cup of tea, Mr Disvan?’

‘No thank you.’

‘You’re taking it very well, Miss Knott,’ said Doctor Bani-Sadr, ‘but a reaction may set in. I’ll prescribe you something to help you sleep.’

‘That’s thoughtful. I feel okay at the moment, but I’m not so sure about when I’m left on my own.’

‘Why not go and stay at your parents?’ I asked in as kindly a voice as possible.

‘No, I prefer to stay here in case he returns.’

‘That’s far from likely, I’m afraid,’ said Mr Disvan.

‘Possibly so, but it could happen. Trevor’s not dead you know.’

‘No... but at the risk of seeming cruel, my dear, the day must come, sooner or later, when you’ll have to act as if he is.’

With anyone else I would have described her reply as vehement, but with Miss Knott that would have been too harsh a term.

‘That day will never come, Mr Disvan. Trevor is alive and with us even though we can’t speak to him.’

‘To be precise,’ said the landlord, ‘he’s parked in your garage.’

Mr Disvan reproved him with a look.

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I didn’t mean it to sound quite that blunt. It just came out that way. What will you do with yourself now?’

‘‘What can I do? If I was to sell the car I’d lose track of Trevor—and lay someone else open to the risk of sharing his fate. If I had it destroyed… well, that’d be like killing him.’

‘I doubt the car would allow itself to be destroyed,’ said Mr Disvan. ‘That was Trevor’s fatal—if you’ll excuse the term, Tania—mistake. He acted rashly and the car’s owner, the real owner, defended itself.’

‘Probably you’re right, although I’ll never see it that way. I hate the car’s owner.’

‘Of course you do, that’s more than understandable.’