Deadfall (34 page)

Pepper laughed derisively but hesitated, and it occurred to Linc that having got this far, the former estate worker quite possibly had little idea what to do next. It was one thing to make threats, but a heavy crowbar wouldn't be the easiest thing to wield successfully, especially when your opponent had the run of an extensive open space. It seemed that Linc's first instinctive reaction might well be the answer, after all. He was no great sprinter but he was confident he could outstrip the older man, especially if he insisted on holding on to the crowbar. If he discarded it, the competition would be closer, but Pepper without a weapon was an entirely more manageable proposition.

Linc took one more careful step backwards, poised in preparation to turn and run, and felt something bump gently against his back. Such was his state of tension that he didn't immediately think
of the rope swing, hanging from the branches, but instead jumped in alarm and instinctively turned to meet the new threat. In that instant, Pepper attacked.

Honed by years of riding at speed, Linc's reactions saved him as they had done on the night Abby was assaulted. As Pepper moved forward, swinging his arm back preparatory to launching the crowbar like some overweight javelin, Linc caught sight of the movement on the edge of his vision. Even before his mind consciously had time to readjust he'd grasped the wooden crossbar of the swing and hurled it towards Pepper.

Because of the dragging effect of the rope, the stick didn't fly true but it achieved the desired result. Pepper ducked, and in doing so his aim with the crowbar was spoiled. The point lanced harmlessly past Linc, the whole shaft landing with a muted metallic ringing on the turf behind him.

Linc leaped at Pepper with his head bowed, catching him in the midriff with his shoulder, arms spread like a rugby prop-forward, and carrying him back and down to hit the ground with a satisfying thud. Pepper writhed beneath him, gasping obscenities and doing his utmost to throw him off. He was stronger than Linc had bargained for. In spite of the fact that he'd fallen with one arm twisted behind him, he was still making it very difficult for his captor to hold him down. Linc managed to shift until he was kneeling across Pepper's stomach and using both his hands to keep the man's one free arm pinned to the ground.

‘You're breaking my fuckin' arm!' Pepper grated, through clenched teeth, trying to get his feet into play.

‘Forgive me if I don't get too upset,' Linc told him. ‘If you'd lie still it wouldn't hurt so much.'

Pepper didn't seem inclined to heed this advice, and gave Linc a rough couple of minutes before he finally conceded defeat.

‘So what are you gonna do now?' he panted.

Linc honestly didn't know. This was where he needed his mobile phone more than ever. Breathing heavily, he sat on his boiler-suited captive and considered the possibilities.

It didn't take long. There were really only two: remain sitting on Jim Pepper until Reagan or someone else arrived, or let him get up and run the very real risk of having him break loose again. For the time being, he chose the former. For one thing, Reagan was – presumably – on his way; and for another, the longer he kept Pepper with his right arm trapped underneath him, the more useless it would hopefully become. Optimistically, Linc pushed the uncertain elements of his plan to the back of his mind.

‘You're breaking my fuckin' arm, you bastard!' Pepper shouted at the top of his voice, his face livid. ‘I'll sue you for assault!'

And probably win, Linc thought bitterly, but was saved the necessity of answering by the eminently welcome sound of a shout from the direction of the road.

‘Over here!' he shouted in reply, twisting to bring deliverance into view. The voice had been unmistakably female but although he would have preferred Reagan or one of the other estate workers, he wasn't in a position to be too choosy. Now he
could see that the person running across the turf towards him was in fact Nikki.

‘Linc! Are you okay? What's happened?' she asked, slowing up a little breathlessly. Then, tilting her head to get a good look, ‘Is that Jim Pepper?'

‘It is,' he confirmed.

‘So what happened? He didn't attack you, did he?'

‘He tried, but he's not very good at it,' Linc said, deliberately adding a touch of scorn. He'd had a bellyful of the Pepper family.

Pepper's response to this was predictably obscene and Linc bounced on him a time or two.

‘Shut up, okay?' he advised. ‘I don't suppose you've got your phone on you, have you, Nik?'

‘Yep. Well, actually, I've got yours,' she told him apologetically. ‘The battery was flat on mine and I must have picked yours up thinking it was Cris's. That's why I came looking for you.' She held it out.

‘Er, I think you'll have to do it for me. I'm a little busy.'

‘Oh, right. Of course. So, who do you want me to ring?'

‘I should think the police would be a good start,' Linc suggested dryly.

‘Yeah, I guess so. What, nine, nine, nine? Or do you want your tame copper?'

‘Nine, nine, nine will do. You didn't see Reagan anywhere around, did you?'

‘Yeah, he's just coming. He called you on the mobile to say he'd got held up but I saw his pick-up coming just before I saw you.' The phone in her hand emitted a tinny voice and she put it to her ear.
‘Er, police, please. And ambulance?' she queried, looking at Linc, who shook his head. ‘No. Just police.' At the operator's prompting she gave details of their whereabouts and described the incident as attempted assault before ringing off, at which point Reagan came jogging up.

Pepper, hearing the forester's footfalls and possibly recognising his imminent arrival as the point of no return, suddenly renewed his attempts to shift Linc's weight and, catching him by surprise, almost succeeded.

‘Jack! Get hold of his legs, will you? The bastard's so bloody strong!'

Reagan obliged, and with a further string of abuse, Pepper became still once more.

‘What happened?' the forester demanded. ‘What's
he
doing here?'

‘Waiting for me, apparently. But how he knew . . .' Linc didn't feel it was the moment to voice the most obvious solution to that question. ‘What we could do with now is some rope.'

‘I've got some in the truck,' Reagan said.

‘What about the swing?' Nikki put in. ‘If anyone's got a knife.'

‘I have.' The forester put his hand in his pocket.

‘Why cut it down?' Linc enquired. ‘It's long enough. Why don't we just tie his hands and leave him attached? Save us holding on to him.'

Pepper wasn't inclined to fall in with this plan but with the help of the burly Reagan, Linc managed to subdue his struggles long enough to bind him securely with the much-knotted but very tough blue nylon rope that formed the swing.

When they finally stood back to survey their
handiwork, Jim Pepper spat on the dirt at their feet and glared at Reagan.

‘I'll get you, you double-crossing bastard!' he swore. ‘Nobody sets me up and gets away with it!'

Linc glanced across at Reagan who shook his head and lifted his hands in apparent bewilderment.

‘I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't set him up!'

Linc stifled his doubts. ‘It's okay, ignore him. He's just trying to make trouble. Come away.'

Nikki touched his arm.

‘Linc, you might want to see this,' she said quietly. ‘I found it on the ground, just over there.' She had in her hand the piece of paper with which Pepper had taunted Linc earlier.

He took it and walked out from the shade of the tree into the sunlight, reading as he went. Behind him, the bound man laughed unpleasantly and called out something. Linc took no notice.

The note had been generated on a computer and printed on a sheet of A4 paper, of which the bottom half had then been torn off. It was not addressed to anyone, and said simply:

Linc frowned and read it through again. He looked up at Nikki and then at the forester, who was watching him intently.

‘What? What does it say?' he asked.

Wordlessly, Linc handed it over and observed the
play of emotions on the other man's face as he took in the meaning of the words.

Reagan's dark brows dropped and his hand began to shake as he looked up at Linc.

‘
Oh
,
no!
' he said with great emphasis. ‘No. You're not putting this on me! I had nothing to do with it! There could be any number of people with those initials.'

‘But not many who knew of our arrangement,' Linc pointed out. ‘Unless you told anyone . . .'

‘No!' Reagan declared, then perhaps realising that he was digging himself deeper, ‘I mean, I don't know. I might have done – I don't remember. But I've never seen
this
before.'

Linc held out his hand for the note, and to his credit Reagan passed it over with only a moment's hesitation.

‘What are you going to do with it?'

‘I'm not sure,' he said, folding it and slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. ‘I need time to think.'

‘There's nothing to think about. I didn't write that!' the forester protested, black eyes flashing. ‘Why would I?'

Only an inch or so taller but very much heavier, he gave the impression of towering over Linc, who could only be glad – if it
had
been a collaboration – that Reagan hadn't been there to back Pepper up.

‘Jack, calm down. I haven't accused you of anything yet. Though it would help if I knew why you weren't here at two.'

‘Some bastard let my tyres down; all four of them. It took me ages to pump them up. I've only got a foot pump at home.'

‘So you were at home with Lynne?'

‘Yes. No, Lynne was out or I'd have borrowed her car . . .' He tailed off, sounding defeated. ‘You don't believe me, do you?'

‘Linc, the police are here.' Nikki saved him the necessity of answering, which was just as well because he wasn't sure what to say. Reagan's excuse sounded slightly implausible but maybe that was in his favour. Surely if he'd planned the whole thing, he'd have sorted out a more solid alibi.

‘Are you going to tell them?' Reagan asked urgently as they watched the approach of the police Range-Rover over the bumpy turf.

Linc looked at his anxious face and shrugged. ‘Pepper will if I don't,' he said. ‘Sorry, Jack.'

The Range-Rover pulled up beside them and two uniformed officers got out: one wiry and dark; one young, sturdy and blond. They looked vaguely familiar to Linc but he didn't know whether to be glad or sorry that it wasn't Manston or Rockley.

‘Well, well. Someone's been busy,' one of them commented, gesturing towards the tree and its attached prisoner. ‘Doing our job for us!'

‘Well, I didn't think he'd wait around for you to arrive,' Linc explained. ‘Not that you've been long, as it happens.'

‘We were just down the road in St Thomas,' the policeman said, leaving the village prefix off, as many of the locals did. ‘Mr Tremayne, isn't it? Constable Diller – we have met.'

‘Ah, yes. The fire at South Lodge Farm,' Linc said, recognition dawning. ‘In that case, you'll remember Jim Pepper, too.'

‘Indeed I do,' Diller said. ‘We've heard quite a bit about Mr Pepper lately, from one source or
another. What's he been up to this time? The girls on the desk mentioned attempted assault . . .'

Linc outlined what had happened, including the discovery of the note, which he produced for their perusal.

Diller read it, pursing his lips. ‘JR. Any idea who JR might be?'

‘Those are my initials, but I didn't send it!' Reagan, who had been standing listening, obviously couldn't stand the tension a moment longer.

Diller raised an eyebrow in his direction then turned his attention back to Linc. ‘Who else knew of your meeting with Mr Reagan this afternoon?' he enquired.

‘I don't think I actually mentioned it to anyone but I did put it in the diary, so anyone with access to the office could have known. Mary – my secretary, my father, my brother Crispin, Nikki here, her mother, Geoff Sykes was in to see me earlier . . . A number of people. The door isn't locked on non-public days and the diary's usually open on the desk. But I can't see why any of them would have told anyone else about it.'

‘And Mr Reagan was late arriving for his meeting with you?'

‘Someone let down my tyres!' Reagan half-shouted. ‘For God's sake, can't you see, I'm being set up?'

‘And who do you think would want to set you up, sir?' Diller responded calmly.

‘Well . . .
I
don't know!'

The forester looked desperate, and Linc began to feel sorry for him.

‘Constable, I don't know what's going on here
but I'm prepared to give Jack the benefit of the doubt for the time being. As I told you, he helped me deal with Pepper when he did get here.'

Diller looked sceptical. ‘Well, he couldn't do much else, with the young lady here as a witness, could he?'

Reagan stepped forward angrily at this and Linc put out a hand to stop him.

‘For goodness' sake, man! Don't make things worse.'

Constable Diller gave Reagan a thoughtful look and turned to Nikki. ‘And you, young lady . . .' He consulted his notes. ‘Mrs Tremayne. You were first on the scene. Did you see anyone else at all when you arrived? Anyone on the road? You came from . . .?'

‘From St James,' Nikki told him. ‘I was having my hair done and I came back this way to give Linc his mobile, which I'd picked up by mistake.'

‘And how did
you
know where to find him?'