Small Town Trouble: Some Very English Murders, #4

Chapter Two

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Cath’s mouth dropped open. She closed it again, and frowned.

She didn’t need to speak.

Penny looked at the two children who had just lost a father, and her sister who had just lost a husband, and wanted to crawl into a small hole and flagellate herself with whips. Spiky ones. What was wrong with her? "Oh, Ariadne. Wolf, Destiny, I am so sorry." She shook her head. There was nothing else she could say to explain herself, was there? There was no elegant way forward.

Wolf simply shrugged. He was pale, but he got to his feet and bent down to his mum, helping her to stand. He hugged her tightly.

Ariadne was making a sound halfway between snorting and laughing. I just feel relief. I’m a terrible person. Oh goodness, I am an awful person to think that. How could I? I ...

"You’re not a terrible person, Cath said firmly, shooting Penny a look that spoke volumes about what sort of person Cath currently thought Penny was. You’re in shock."

What happened? Destiny asked in a small voice.

He’s been found near the van he was living in, Cath said. I’m off there now and as soon as I know anything more, I’ll report back. Um, I don’t need to say this, I expect, but don’t go anywhere, all right?

I need to come, Ariadne said.

Penny put out her hand. No, you stay here. We’ll let you know...

We? Cath said.

I am coming, Ariadne repeated, "and I will raise all manner of trouble if I cannot. I need to see."

Penny saw her chance. I understand, she said. Don’t you, Cath? But you can’t go on your own. I’ll come, just to support you.

"You are so transparent," Cath grumbled.

Go on, mum, Destiny said, sounding more grown up with each sentence that she uttered. I’ll look after Wolf. He sighed and she kicked his ankle. Shut up, she said, pre-emptively.

There was no further argument. Cath flung her hands into the air, and said, "I can’t imagine you will see him, because it will be all closed off, but come along then."

She whirled out of the door, followed by Penny and Ariadne.

* * * *

The road that led away from town was quiet at this time in the evening, and the lighter nights of summer were still clinging on. East of Upper Glenfield lay the flat, broad Fens. It was the very heart of English agriculture, with hundred-acre fields teeming with crops that thrived in the rich black peaty soil. Glenfield was on the edge between the flatlands and the rising hills of the Lincolnshire Wolds behind them, to the west.

Cath drove, and the two sisters sat in the back. Penny was looking to the left, and saw the posh hotel and conference centre perched on a small hill. It was set back from the road, and built in the warm yellow limestone that had been quarried not too far away, at Barnack. This hotel was where her close friend Drew did most of his work as a freelance outdoor leader. He was also running sessions at a few local schools, but it was corporate work that paid the most.

What’s all that? Ariadne said in shock, and Penny turned to the right to see what she was looking at. She remembered that Ariadne hadn’t been out this way before. She’d avoiding the particular area east of the town, for obvious reasons.

It’s a protest camp. The protestors are trying to stop some housing being built there, Cath explained. Hang on. Here we are...

They drove past the ragged muddle of tents and trailers, to where a number of police vehicles were sitting in an equally untidy arrangement. Ariadne sucked in her breath when she saw Owen’s battered orange van parked up on the grassy verge. Penny reached out and gripped her sister’s hand.

Ariadne shot her a strange sideways look. They’d never been close and until the recent crisis they’d not even spoken for a number of years.

None of that mattered now.

Thank you, Ariadne said.

Cath waited for a moment before turning and peering at them both through the gap in the front seats. You don’t have to do this, she said. Not yet. Why not stay in the car?

I will have to identify the body at some point, Ariadne said. She squared her shoulders and Penny felt her hand flex under her fingers. And I want to be sure the man is dead. She added an expletive that, under the circumstances, was justified on many levels.

Cath nodded. Come with me. We’ll take it steady and if, at any point, you want to come back, we will. I am pretty certain they won’t let us near the scene, anyway; we’d contaminate evidence. I’ve just spotted the photographer’s vehicle, so they’re still doing official stuff. You’ll have to do the formal identification later on, I’m afraid.

It doesn’t matter. I just want to ... be here. I don’t know why.

Okay, then.

Cath went up to the uniformed officers who were standing around the cordoned-off area. Ariadne stopped. I’m all right, she said before Penny could ask. I just need to ... absorb all of this. I’m scared and relieved and confused and ... everything. And sad, which is silly, because he caused me so much pain for so many years.

It’s not silly at all, Penny said decisively. All death is a sadness.

They fell silent, and Penny looked around. She felt the curious eyes of the protesters watching her. There were about half a dozen vehicles drawn up on a scrubby patch of land by the road, and eight or nine more tents. There weren’t as many dreadlocks and tie-dyed tunics as she’d imagined, and range of ages was vast – not at all the twenty-something dropouts of popular assumption.

She looked at them, and they looked at her, and one or two of them inclined their heads in unsmiling greeting.

They presented as a group, standing close, but for one man who was very definitely off to the edge. He had close-cropped hair and was wearing a dark tee-shirt and dark cut-off jeans, and could have passed unnoticed through any group of people. Well, if he didn’t have a prominent and emerging black eye. There was also an angry fresh cut on his upper cheek.

Penny made a mental note. That man had been fighting. She was about to take a step toward him when a car drew up alongside the man in black, and a familiar man’s head poked out of the window to speak to him.

She recognised Ed Montgomery. He led the local ramblers’ group and was active in local environmental issues. It made sense that he’d be connected to the protestors’ camp.

He said something to the man in dark clothes, but she couldn’t hear what it was. The man didn’t smile in return. He shrugged, almost angrily, and then stalked around to the passenger’s door, slid in and hunkered down. Ed drove away.

Impulsively, she approached the wary protestors, and searched amongst them for the friendliest looking person. A few smiled at her but no one spoke until she did.

Hi! Um, who was that man that just drove away?

They exchanged long glances between themselves. One or two muttered Don’t know and someone else said, Nothing to you.

Gaz, a grey-haired woman said at last. Just that Gaz, but that’s all I know.

"That’s all we know, someone else said. Are you with the police?"

No, no. She wasn’t sure what else to say. Thank you.

She returned to Ariadne’s side. Cath made her way back to them, bringing a heavy-set police man with black beetles for eyebrows and every feature of his face over-large yet somehow fitting together.

Ariadne, this is Inspector Travis. Sir, this is Ariadne Jones. The deceased’s wife.

Widow, she said instantly, but her hands were shaking.

It takes longer to adjust than fifteen minutes and a pizza, Penny thought, her heart aching in sympathy. 

Inspector Travis nodded. We would rather you didn’t come up to the scene, he said.

Of course. How did he die? Ariadne asked. I know he liked a drink...

And a fight, Penny added in her head.

We will check for alcohol and other substances in his blood, Inspector Travis said. Obviously we need to talk to everyone that was here. Did I just see one of the protestors get driven away? He turned and waved frantically to a uniformed constable. Davis, get over there and start talking. Names, addresses, everything. What are you playing at, man? You did get the registration of that vehicle, didn’t you?

Davis reddened. Rural police were more used to tractor theft than murder. Penny stepped in. The man was called Gaz, and that was Ed Montgomery that picked him up.

Inspector Travis glared at Davis until he set off towards the protestors. The Inspector turned back to Ariadne, and spoke gravely. Right. So yes, we’ll be ordering toxicology reports. But on first glance, now I’m no specialist, but it appears that he was crushed by a vehicle.

Ariadne and Penny both stiffened in shock. The area that was blanked off by large white screens and a hastily-erected tent was about twenty feet away from Owen’s old van.

By which vehicle? Penny asked. His own? She pointed to the van which had its side door slid wide open.

Potentially, Inspector Travis said. He might have been doing some work on it, and the handbrake failed; these things happen.

But he’s over there, Penny said, pointing at the tents and screens.

He may have ... crawled.

Ariadne made a strangled sound of distress. Inspector Travis cleared his throat. It is nothing that we need to discuss right now. We will talk to you tomorrow, all right?

Okay.

Cath nodded at her boss, and stepped forward. With Penny and Cath either side of her, Ariadne was cocooned and they walked her back towards Cath’s car.

Penny couldn’t resist peeping into Owen’s van as they passed it by. There was blue police tape over the doorway. She walked in an arc, leaving Cath to steer Ariadne, so that she could get a closer look.

But Ariadne was glued to her side, and followed, and they both saw the piles of banknotes at the same time. There must have been hundreds of pounds scattered across the floor and table, in amongst opened cans of food, empty drinks bottles and torn newspapers.

What on earth...? Ariadne whispered, crumpling against Penny who put out her arm to steady her sister.

Come away, Penny said. She had a dark sense of foreboding. How dare Owen have so much money, when his wife had to go without food to ensure her children could eat? Cath saw the cash, and took Ariadne’s elbow, pulling her back towards the car.

We can’t go in there, she said. Not yet. I am sure this will all be sorted out as a tragic accident, and then it will all be over.

Over? Ariadne allowed herself to be manoeuvred back to the car. This is Owen we are talking about. No, not even will his death be the end of it, not if he can help it. He won’t let me off this lightly.

Chapter Three

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No one got much sleep that night, and the following day, a family liaison officer called early to talk to Ariadne and the children. Penny decided to give them all some space, and after a flurry of text messages with Drew, she had enough of an excuse to make her way up to the hotel with a packed lunch for him.

She’d taken up baking bread recently. Her initial attempts had been solid affairs, more like potential murder weapons than actual sustenance. The children had laughed, but Wolf came to her later with a ream of science that he’d found on the internet, and soon she was managing to create loaves that people would choose to eat rather than use as doorstops. She carved out a ham and salad sandwich, and walked through the small town, her head buzzing with thoughts that slowed and unravelled as she relaxed.

Ariadne had been pensive all night, and they had cried a lot. But this morning, as they waited for the liaison officer, she had surprised Penny by saying that she was going to move out. At first Penny had thought she mean she’d go back to the family house in Leicestershire, but Ariadne said not. Shyly, tentatively, she suggested she might stay in the area, and then watched her older sister carefully for a reaction.

Penny was stunned, but found herself smiling. It sounds good. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for somewhere suitable.

* * * *

Her chilled mood was destroyed the instant she walked up the wide stone steps of the hotel’s main entrance, and was accosted in the reception area by a man so polished he had probably been created in an advertising agency. He was like a greased snake in a smart