Folly (10 page)

‘It's not like you to be into conspiracies,' Alex said. ‘We'd better ring round and let our people know there isn't a match.'

‘I'll do it,' Will said. ‘I'll tell 'em there's a drink on the house if they still want to drop in.'

Alex nodded agreement. Will was good with customers and with bringing in new business – and soothing feathers.

Lily caught Alex's eye and beckoned. ‘Did you get your wheels mended?' she said. It was good to see her relaxing for once.

‘Yes,' Alex told her. ‘The garage sent someone up earlier. The Land Rover's out at the back now. They drove it down for me.'

‘Um …' Lily rarely seemed awkward but she did now, and Alex knew what was coming. ‘It'd be lovely to have you stay with me if you'd like to. Unless you're more comfortable using your room here.'

Resisting the urge to be a bit sharp over motherly concern wasn't always easy but Alex said, ‘Thanks, Mum. If I'm coming over, I'll let you know.' She had planned to continue staying at the Black Dog.

‘Bogie's welcome, too.' Lily nodded and turned back to Doc James.

He smiled at Alex. She had always liked him and they got along easily, but this time she thought he gave her a more searching look.

One of the kitchen staff came through and left a steaming plate on the bar. He said something to Cathy and left again. She took the meal of bangers, mash and mushy peas doused with thick onion gravy to one of the tables dubbed ‘step-up' because they were on a raised area behind a half wall of blackened wood paneling. A single step separated them from the main pub floor.

Cathy slid the plate in front of a thin man in dark clothing with iron-gray hair cut very short.

He glanced toward Alex, met her eyes very directly and moved to sit on the opposite side of the table with his back to the room.

Alex's heart flipped. He wore a long habit. The sound of a pinball machine in a side room became grating. Voices around her rose and fell and collided together in a meaningless babble.

Without turning around, the man raised a hand in a wave as if he knew she was watching him. Slowly at first, then with firmer steps, Alex came from behind the bar and approached the customer. She saw he had a glass of red wine beside his plate.

‘Can I help you?' she asked pleasantly, although her voice sounded breathy in her own ears.

Bright, light blue eyes settled on hers, at close quarters this time. ‘Are you Alex?' he said. His cheeks were sunken and weathered but she didn't think he was an ill man, just a naturally thin one.

‘Yes, I am,' she said.

‘Can you spare a little time?' His voice had a rusty edge.

‘Yes, of course.'

‘Good. I hope we can help each other.'

She sat on the worn and slippery banquette facing him and he added: ‘I'm Brother Percy. I would be happy for you to call me Percy.'

T
he man took a healthy swallow of wine, propped his elbow on the table and continued to hold the glass in long, almost transparent fingers. ‘I understand you own this place.'

‘I do. How can I help you?' His age was difficult to guess. He could be fifty or seventy – he had an unworldly air.

‘Please tell me about Dominic, about what happened to him. I spoke to a policeman. At first he was interested. Had all sorts of questions. But I couldn't tell him anything he wanted to know. I wanted to say what I knew about the brother, and that I'd like to see him. I learned you found Dominic so I came to find you.'

Slowly, Alex slid to the edge of the bench and rested her forearms on the table. She couldn't feel her hands any more. Cold anticipation made it hard to talk.
Dominic.

Her breath shortened and her skin began to prickle. The start of a panic attack? She hadn't had one in months, not even when she'd come upon the dead man. Panic could describe what she'd felt when someone fooled with the motion sensors at her house, but that was different from the real thing. Alex knew all about that.

‘Dominic was the man who died in the woods up there?' She nodded toward the hills opposite the pub.

‘I believe so.' Percy nodded and demolished a sausage while he waited, with apparent patience, for her to say something else.

‘You're hungry,' she said, startled by her own comment. ‘I mean … Yes, you are hungry.' With an awkward little laugh, she rubbed her hands over her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths. ‘His hair was cut like yours. For a moment … I knew you must be something to do with him.'

He smiled and papery wrinkles drove webs of fine lines around his eyes and mouth. Transformed by the kindness of that smile, Brother Percy warmed Alex a little. Her muscles started to ease out of the grip of tension.

‘Who was the policeman you talked to?'

‘A detective,' Percy said. ‘Lamb, his name is. Nice fellow I imagine, but busy.'

‘Wasn't interested in what you had to say?' The idea amazed her. Surreptitiously, she placed the flat of her right hand just above her waistband and felt the next inhalation. She kept it slow.

‘He was interested but since I couldn't give him the name he was looking for, he took what information I had and said he would have to verify who I say I am before letting me see Brother Dominic.'

Ethereal – that described this person. Almost as if he might disappear if she closed her eyes for too long, although the speed with which he dispatched his meal suggested he was quite human. His hooded cowl stood away from a corded neck. Beneath a threadbare raincoat far too flimsy for the weather, his tunic was a very dark brown and tied high at the waist with a rolled and knotted raw linen cincture.

‘You have a name for the man who died. Dominic. And you're Percy. I'm sure they can check the rest.'

‘I should explain, although it won't interest you particularly.' He smiled again. ‘Once we were called Gyrovagi – monks without a cloister. Wanderers on a quest others didn't understand or felt threatened by. We were considered undesirable. Charlatans, even. I won't bore you with more of that. I don't know Brother Dominic by any other name, not the name he was given as a child – if he even knew it. But he was a man in search of simplicity and truth, not the name he was once given. And I long ago shed my own. It's irrelevant. I cannot give the police the pieces of paper they want. They would have to accept my word that my path crossed that of Brother Dominic.'

‘You must see him.' Desperation didn't make for a clear head. Brother Percy admitted he didn't have a home. That meant he could disappear.

Sadness dragged the lines of his face downward. ‘I would have liked that. And to spend a few minutes with him. I have something of his by mistake. He would have missed it by now. Not important, I suppose, but I'd have liked to … leave it with him. Some would have called him inestimably sweet – perhaps he was – but I was only caught by his goodness, and I supposed what I felt was a troubled spirit still searching.'

Wanting nothing more than for him to keep talking, Alex sat still and held his gaze. She wanted to ask him if Brother Dominic wore a ring. Not yet, though.

Cathy wiped the table and asked if Brother Percy was ready for more wine. He only smiled at her.

‘Dominic was dissatisfied with himself. I felt that. Once he talked of things he had yet to put right, if he could ever discover how to do that. He missed someone called Lennie but I wasn't sure who he meant. It isn't our way to ask questions, simply to listen. We are essentially silent.' His sudden laugh jolted Alex. ‘He had a dog. It caused him more problems than he already had but he would never have given it up once it came to him. It's hard enough to feed oneself as we live. I think Dominic sometimes chose not to eat in favor of that little fellow.'

Cathy picked up Percy's empty plate and glass. ‘Will you have pudding?' she asked Brother Percy.

‘No, but thank you,' he said, and took the bill from her.

This man would go away, Alex knew it, and then she might never find out more than the few insights he was giving. She glanced toward the fireplace where Bogie lay curled up on his blanket. ‘You know …' No, Percy was unlikely to want Bogie but she couldn't risk it. Silly when she'd only had the little dog since yesterday.

‘It's all right,' Percy said, his clear eyes shining with a touch of humor. ‘I saw him by the fire when I came in, but I couldn't look after him anyway. And I'm glad he's here. Dominic will be glad.'

Alex shivered. A calmness hovered about Percy and when he spoke of Dominic as if he were somewhere around she thought she felt the other man's presence, too.

Cathy approached with two glasses of red wine. She put one in front of Alex. ‘The gentleman was drinking your favorite Burgundy,' she said. ‘I thought it might be nice for you to have some together. These are nasty days and the nights are enough to freeze your bones. It'll warm you up.' She set down the other glass near Percy and left.

With a slight frown, Percy regarded the second pour of wine.

H
e
can't afford it.
‘You didn't ask for that one,' she said with a smile. ‘It's on the house.'

‘I should be going,' Percy said. ‘But thank you.'

Alex furiously thought of ways to keep him. In the morning she'd see Dan O'Reilly and she'd like to take Percy with her. ‘Stay and chat,' she said, knowing she sounded forced. ‘Where will you spend the night?'

The Burke sisters had come into the pub, Mary leaning heavily on her cane and forcing a few coughs. Alex waved at them.

‘I'll know when I get there,' Percy said and picked up the new glass of wine. ‘I'll be warm enough,' he added and smiled.

Laughter followed Harriet and Mary toward their table by the fire. Alex could only imagine what outrageous complaining Mary was tossing out. She was a one-woman put-down artist when it came to the darts team from the Horse and Hounds – or just about any other team that competed with the Black Dog. She'd be full of derisive comments tonight. The laughter grew and, from the gesturing of the woman's free hand, Alex could tell she was enjoying herself.

Will kept a ‘reserved' sign on the sisters' table to avoid any scenes should someone else try to sit there, and the two were soon ensconced amid a chuckling group of neighbors.

‘You like what you do here,' Percy said. ‘You would have enjoyed Brother Dominic if he ever managed to put his worries to rest. It seemed important for him to get to this place.'

How she wanted to ask about those worries and the tiny bits of information the monk had told her. But if she started asking too many questions it could be a big mistake.

‘I never expected to do anything like own a pub,' she told him. ‘I came back to the village when my life changed a lot. I worked in London as a graphic artist, but I don't miss it.' Not completely true, but the rest was too complicated.

He raised one eyebrow quizzically but didn't press for more information.

‘Did you read about Dominic in a local paper?' she asked. ‘What happened, I mean?'

He looked vague. ‘I heard,' he said and reached into the pocket of the raincoat he wore, pulling out a small leather purse. ‘I knew it had to be him. Someone he knew should say what needs to be said.'

‘Please stay here at the inn tonight,' she said. ‘We have plenty of room and that way you'll have a comfortable bed to sleep in and a healthy breakfast before you set off again.' All she could visualize was the elderly man trudging along, who knew where, in the darkness.

Then there was the spectre of a malevolent presence lurking out there.

‘That's not my way,' he said. ‘But I do thank you for your kindness.' He opened the purse and began to assemble coins on the table.

She had to keep him here. ‘Reverend!' She called to the vicar, who immediately saw her signalling him and came toward them. ‘This is someone I want you to meet. Brother Percy, this is Reverend Restrick, the vicar of St Aldwyn's here in Folly-on-Weir.' Sending a distress signal without Percy noticing stretched Alex's inventive abilities. ‘I'm trying to get Brother Percy to stay the night in the village. Tell him it's too cold and getting too late to go on.'

The vicar waited for the other man to shift along the bench and sat beside him. He shot Alex an understanding glance.

She excused herself and fetched the vicar's drink from the bar. In the short time it took for her to get back the two men had fallen into easy conversation and she wished she could just creep away and leave them to talk.

‘Drink your wine,' the vicar told her. ‘It's good to see you relax.'

If only he knew how she really felt.

‘Brother Percy knew the dead man,' she blurted out.

Before she could apologize for her clumsiness, the vicar said, ‘Yes, so he's said. Brother Percy … perhaps we shouldn't talk too much more about it all until he's had time to rest and think. He isn't a man accustomed to being with so many other people.'

Percy raised a hand in protest. ‘I don't expect my peculiarities to be accommodated, Reverend, but thank you for your consideration. It doesn't seem I can be of any more help anyway and the longer I stay – comfortable as I am here – the later it gets.' He smiled a little and emptied the second glass of wine. ‘Not that the night has ever held any fear for me.'

‘I'm not as comfortable with my own company as you, Percy,' the vicar said. He had already drained his whiskey. ‘Charlotte, my wife, is visiting her sister so I'm fending for myself. It would be a pleasure to have you use the spare room at the vicarage. It's always made up. Then I'd have a companion for breakfast in the morning before you go on your way – if you'd like that. I make good coffee, I'm told, and fry an edible egg. I've some Cumberland sausages, too. Best there are.'

Brother Percy fiddled with the coins on the table.