Revenge in the Cotswolds (9 page)

The suggestion made her feel weak and out of control. She couldn’t be in two places at once. ‘I would have heard if that had happened,’ she said optimistically.

‘Would you? How?’

‘Higgins would have said something.’

‘Okay.’ He sounded doubtful, and she was already well on the path of imagining a variety of ways that a house could be damaged, other than by pouring petrol through the letter box.

‘And listen – you were right about the plug in the washbasin. What a bonkers arrangement!’

He laughed. ‘Glad I could be of some use. So what else did you do today?’

She described the church and its Saxon carvings, and then ran out of things to say.

‘No progress on the murder enquiry, then?’

‘The chap must have been a very dedicated campaigner. They can’t seem to find out much about him.’

‘DNA? Teeth? Fingerprints?’

‘He didn’t say.’ She paused. ‘They wouldn’t bother with all that, surely? Not when his fiancée’s identified him. It’s only that they can’t get much background. Since it seems almost certain that somebody from around here killed him, it probably doesn’t matter very much, anyway. They’ve found his parents, apparently,
even though they’re not bothered enough to drop everything and fly here from Dubai.’

‘I guess they think it’s a bit late. Not much they can do, apart from arranging the funeral.’

‘And Nella can do that, I imagine.’ Then she remembered to tell him about Jessica’s visit the following day. ‘We can go and investigate the local pub. Except it’s not very local, really. Must be a couple of miles’ walk away.’

Drew tutted. He did not regard walking for its own sake as a very appealing activity. ‘Take the car, then,’ he said. ‘You’re less likely to get into trouble that way.’

‘Not so,’ she reminded him. ‘Car trouble was fairly extreme in Stanton, if you remember.’

‘You won’t do that again. Anyway, it’ll be good to see Jess. Say hello from me.’

‘I will. She’s sure to ask after you. My family are beginning to realise there’s something going on between us. You’ll have to meet Jocelyn and Damien at some point.’

‘Even Emily,
eventually
,’ he said softly.

Thea’s older sister was at a remove from the family circle, at least for a time. Her name was mentioned as seldom as possible. ‘Even Emily,’ Thea agreed.

The conversation rambled on for another half hour, with repetitions and jokes and a few endearments.
We’re like a pair of teenagers
, thought Thea, when they’d finished. It was talking for the sake of talking, maintaining the contact, strengthening the bond.
It made her feel warm and secure and excited and optimistic. Only when it came to a solitary bedtime, with the problems and worries that beset them once again looming large, did she find herself facing a reality that gave scant grounds for optimism.

Jessica had to drive from Manchester, which would take her into late morning. The day was dry but cloudy, perfectly suited to a brisk March walk. Thea formed a plan, whereby they left a car at North Cerney, for the return trip after a lunch at the pub. She was so full of it that she gave the girl little time for preliminaries before spelling out the logistics of what she proposed. They hadn’t even made it into the house.

‘Hey, Mum, slow down!’ Jessica protested. ‘I’ve hardly said hello yet. Let me look at you, at least.’

It was the sort of thing a mother generally said. Thea laughed and stood still for the inspection. At the same time, she gave her daughter a similar long look. Jessica was definitely grown up now. Taller than her mother, fairer and less obviously attractive, she had a confidence that was new. Her choice of a profession with the
police had come as a surprise, with both parents quietly unnerved by it at first. There had been rocky times, which included an unfortunate choice of boyfriend, but on the whole the profession seemed to suit her quite well. The uniform gave her a presence she had not possessed before, and the authority that any police officer finds herself invested with sat comfortably on her. Jessica had always been a well-balanced person, not inclined to extremes. She liked people, but as an only child, could get along without them when necessary. Thea gave her a little pat of approval. ‘You’ll do,’ she said.

‘You look okay, a bit tired,’ Jessica judged. ‘How’s it going with Drew?’

‘Same as ever. Jogging along. I’m not really tired – not in general, I mean. I didn’t sleep very well last night, that’s all.’

The girl became alert. ‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Come and see.’ She led the way indoors and pointed at the singed carpet. ‘A sort of petrol bomb, apparently. It didn’t work very well.’

‘Well enough.’ Jessica had gone pale.

‘I didn’t want you to know about it, really. Maybe I should have found a rug to throw over the place. You’d never have noticed.’

More details were demanded and provided, with Jessica visibly biting back a lot of concern. ‘What about the people? Aren’t they coming back?’

‘I don’t know yet. I don’t think they should. It’s happened now. What good can they do?’

‘They can give names of people with a grudge against them, for a start.’

‘They can do that by phone, can’t they?’

‘Maybe. Okay, then. Who’s this poor old doggie?’ The corgi was at her feet, trying to catch her attention. Jessica bent to stroke her. ‘Nice coat,’ she said.

‘She’s called Gwennie, and she’s a sweet old thing. No trouble. She sleeps most of the time.’

‘Old dogs break your heart, don’t they? When you think back to them as puppies, with all that energy and trust, to see them deaf and blind and witless is so awful.’

‘Yeah.’ Thea recalled a witless dog she’d minded in Hampnett, and the sadness that he carried with him, and sniffed.

‘Sorry. Hepzie’s got ages before she reaches that stage.’

‘I wasn’t thinking about her, actually.’ She gave herself a shake. ‘There’s a tortoise as well, out in the garage. If the weather’s nice, it’s liable to wake up from its hibernation.’

‘I’ll have a look at it after lunch. Now come on, then. I’ll be hungry soon. Are we really walking two miles?’

‘We really are. First we have to drive both cars to the pub. Then we come back here in one of them, and do the walk. We should get there by one, if we bustle. We’ll take Hepzie with us. I think the pub allows dogs, but she can stay in the car if not.’

It was duly accomplished, but it was half past one before they got their lunch. Thea walked her daughter past the quarry, which still had lingering signs of a police operation in the form of a notice on the small road to the north of it, asking for any witnesses to an incident the previous Saturday. ‘What’s this?’ Jessica asked. Then she remembered. ‘Oh – you said something on the phone. A man fell in, is that right?’

‘They think he was murdered, actually.’ Thea had been very ambivalent about letting Jessica know the details of the latest drama. ‘I haven’t been especially involved in it. It was a young man called Danny, and it happened on Saturday afternoon. He was in a protest group, campaigning against new houses and all sorts of other things. I met some of his friends when I first got here. It’s my old friend Higgins in charge. I’m not involved at all,’ she insisted.

‘Really? That doesn’t sound like you.’

‘They’re thinking it might have been a local farmer that did it. He’s been targeted by the protesters. I honestly don’t know much of the detail.’

Jessica was trying to get a look down into the quarry through the bare trees. ‘Looks like quite a drop. He went in from here somewhere, did he?’

‘Further on, as far as I know. Now come on. We have to climb over a wall and cross a field next.’

‘This is a very small road. What if a big lorry came past and hit him, knocking him over the fence and into the quarry? That would look like murder, wouldn’t it?’

‘Jess, for heaven’s sake, leave it. It’s all in capable hands. They’ll know by now exactly how he died. The post-mortem must have been yesterday.’

‘Neat way to do it, though,’ Jessica persisted. ‘Maybe the farmer sent him over, with a Land Rover or tractor or something.’

‘Look – we have to get over this wall and through those woods. We’re not even halfway yet. I ought to have a quick look at the other house, while I’m here. Ten minutes max, okay?’

‘Other house?’

‘Didn’t I say? Mrs Foster’s sister has gone away as well. She’s got a very smart place just down there. You can hold the dog while I water the plants again.’ She didn’t say anything about the nagging worry she’d fought against in the night, that the Bagendon house might have been attacked in some way by the same arsonist who’d been at large the previous day.

‘I hope they’re paying you double, then.’

Thea laughed ruefully. ‘Not quite,’ she said.

The house appeared undamaged at first glance. Apprehensively, Thea unlocked the front door and deactivated the alarm. She sniffed and detected no signs of smoke. A rapid circuit of the ground floor showed all windows intact and nothing in the least disturbed. Breathing more freely, she reproached herself – and Drew – for ever thinking there was the slightest reason for concern. Whatever the reason for the fire, it made little sense to think a second house
might fall victim to the same thing, even if owned by a relative. Where would that end, taken to its logical conclusion? The plants were still in damp soil, but she dampened them again, thinking they would last until Friday quite easily. After that, the owners would be back, and she could forget the place completely.

‘Looks all right,’ she reported to Jessica. ‘Thank goodness.’

‘What’s a house like this worth?’ the girl wondered aloud. ‘Must be half an acre of garden. And look at that view.’ She pointed to the gently sloping fields behind the house, with trees along the upper ridge. Everything was still and timeless. The first greening of spring was visible in patches, and a flock of sheep dotted one field with picturesque patterning.

‘Easily half a million,’ said Thea, with only a slight twinge of resentment.

‘Crazy.’

‘Makes them all paranoid about anything that might come along to lower the value. That’s basically what the protesting is about, I assume. Although …’ she frowned. ‘It’s all back to front, isn’t it? The activists or whatever they are should be on the side of the common people, not the local plutocrats – and that’s who they’re representing, when it comes down to it, opposing new houses.’

‘Yes, but they’re opposing it because it’ll be big and expensive, and no use at all in relieving the housing shortage,’ Jessica explained. ‘Surely that’s obvious?’

‘You’re right. Except that a whole other lot of locals would go berserk if a new estate of cheap houses was proposed instead.’

‘You’re sure it is housing that they’re campaigning about, then?’

‘Not really. It’s badgers as well. And fracking. And wind farms. And quite a few other things. A girl called Sophie gave me a list. It’s just that Jack Handy’s sold some land for a big new house around here somewhere, and the police think that’s the most likely reason for this chap being killed. As far as I can tell,’ she finished with some uncertainty.

‘Not much danger of wind farms in the Cotswolds,’ said Jessica. ‘Aren’t they moving them offshore now?’

‘I don’t know. I just keep thinking of what your father would say about them, now we know the damage they do to birds. He’d have been horribly torn about it.’

‘I think he’d take the side of the birds. What’s the point of building things meant to help the planet if they kill the creatures we’re trying to be protect?’

‘Right,’ said Thea with relief. The whole question of wind farms made her tight with complicated feelings, that were all the more uncomfortable for being a turnaround from six or seven years previously. At that time, there had never been any question about the virtue of the modestly sized turbines. Since they had grown to insane proportions, most of her original assumptions had been overturned.

Everything to do with environment and climate seemed to have at least two excellent and contradictory arguments to be made, and everyone held impassioned positions one way or the other. In the past few months, it had all begun to seem like too much hard work, and she was inclined to let other people work it all out, regardless of what she thought herself. She had a growing feeling that the planet was not in the slightest danger anyway. Some of its inhabitants might be, but that didn’t appear to be any different from the reality of the past umpteen billion years in any case.

‘Keep walking,’ Thea ordered. ‘We don’t have to go down past the church, like I did before. The road to North Cerney goes off before we get that far.’ With a firm eye on the map, she marched them around the loop that was Upper End, and sure enough a small road was signed to the next village. It was an awkward walk with the dog, though, due to the lack of a footpath, and they kept to single file for much of the way.

North Cerney turned out to have a powerful appeal in another individualistic twist on the theme of endless variety that the region boasted. ‘We don’t have to look at the church, do we?’ asked Jessica, as they passed it.

‘Maybe on the way back,’ Thea threatened. ‘I expect it’s wonderful. Most of them are. But I don’t know any stories about this one.’

‘They’ll have stopped serving lunch if we don’t get on.’

The Bathurst Arms was a substantial building,
offering accommodation, a garden and a perfectly adequate menu. As a bonus, there was no objection to dogs in the bar. On a March Tuesday, there were only two other patrons, neither of whom Thea recognised.

They ordered a large meal and spoke little as they waited for it. ‘That was quite a walk,’ Jessica observed after a few minutes. ‘I bet it was more than two miles.’

‘I don’t think so. Have you got a deadline for getting home?’ Already the inevitable bleakness of being left alone again was threatening to undermine the moment.

‘Not really.’

‘Are you working tomorrow?’

It was as if the girl had been waiting for this precise question. ‘I am, yes. We’ve got something on, so there’s not much free time just now. I’m only off today because there are rules about maximum hours.’

‘Something on?’

‘I can’t talk about it. It’s an operation, with a big “O”. Exciting.’

‘You don’t look very excited.’

‘I can’t
talk
about it, Mum. I’m just a small cog in a big machine. I don’t even know exactly what the aim of it is. But it’s important. Some of us are doing stuff we’ve never done before. It’s a challenge.’

Thea frowned. ‘I’m not at all sure I like the sound of it. Ought I to be worrying about you?’

‘No more than I should worry about
you
. I don’t think anybody’s going to burn me in my bed, for a
start.’ There was a little crease of unease between her eyes, which Thea hadn’t seen before.

‘Are they making you do more than you feel competent to tackle? I mean – sorry, Jess – I
don’t
mean I think you’re not up to the job. But you’re still quite new to it all. And it’s not always the most ethical line of work, is it?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I don’t know. You just looked sort of … guilty, for a minute. Queasy.’

‘Stop it – okay? I really am forbidden to talk about it. They’d shoot me if they thought I was giving anything away.’

‘I do hope not,’ said Thea lightly. ‘I think that’s the army – and even there I have a feeling they abandoned firing squads a while ago now.’

Jessica gave a tight smile and took a swig of beer.

Thea watched her, rerunning the conversation in her head. ‘You brought it up, so you must have wanted me to know at least a little bit. Something’s bothering you, by the look of it. We could try a hypothetical approach. Something abstract.’

Her daughter thought for a minute. ‘You mean, I tell you about a friend of mine who’s got herself into an awkward spot, and has been asking for advice?’

‘That sort of thing, yes.’

‘O-o-kay. Well, what would you say if a person told you she’d been given something to do by her superiors that she’s not sure is fair?’

‘Fair?’

Jessica nodded.

‘Fair to who?’

‘People. Suspects.’

‘You mean dishonest, don’t you? What’s the word – entrapment? Are you … sorry, is this person being asked to pretend or tell lies in order to catch a criminal?’

‘Too much detail, Ma. Can we keep it general?’

Thea’s heart was thundering with a sudden rage against the superiors who were corrupting her innocent girl, forcing her into some shady scam that would deceive suspected delinquents into incriminating themselves. It was shabby at best. But she knew, albeit dimly, that this kind of thing went on all the time. It was indeed unfair, playing dirty, and ultimately self-defeating. If the enforcers of the law couldn’t keep themselves clean, then what hope was there for society at large?

‘It’s disgusting,’ she snapped. ‘They should be ashamed.’