A Dirty Death (31 page)

Her laughter was genuine. ‘I do,’ she said. ‘’Tis easy. He fell in the nettles.’ She laughed again and Den’s skin crawled.

‘How did you get the gun?’

‘I went into his room when he was milking. 
They was all busy, even the missus. Then I kept ’un till ’twas needed.’

‘And then you went back to Redstone?’

‘He was bad, that Sam. Taking things not his’n. I knew I should shoot’n, so I did. He was talking to me, then he got running, so I shot’n. By the nettles.’

‘But—’ The man bit back his puzzlement. His question would have been beyond her understanding.

She ignored the interruption. ‘Then I threw it away and ran back to the hideout.’ Den tried to visualise the scene of Sam’s killing, but failed. Surely the man could have snatched back the gun, or talked her out of her intention.

‘Were you all by yourself?’ he asked, before he could stop himself.

The cunning look came back and she clamped her mouth shut. Then she nodded. ‘I pulled both the triggers,’ she said. ‘One first, then the other. Triggers, they’re called,’ she repeated cheerfully.

‘That’s right,’ confirmed her questioner. ‘They certainly are.’

There was little enthusiasm for further questions after that and Elvira herself seemed to have exhausted her supply of information. They took her fingerprints, and escorted her to a cell, giving her a generous breakfast. Nobody rejoiced when the prints were found to match those on the gun 
which had killed Sam. Neither did they when the muck-covered trainers were found to be Elvira’s size, with marks inside matching the impressions of her toes found in the Doc Marten boots.

‘Means, opportunity, confession, evidence,’ listed the man who had interviewed her. ‘All that’s missing is motive.’

‘And for that, we need to locate this chap who says he’s going to marry her,’ said Den. ‘And that shouldn’t be too difficult. If anybody wants me, I’ll be at Redstone.’

Lilah was waiting for news. She had seen a third police car speeding towards the Mabberley woods only a few minutes before the milking was finished, as she went out to send a heifer in. Tim Rickworth was there for the later stages of the milking; he was now sloshing water about, brushing out the parlour, whistling foolishly as he worked. She had to admit, though, that he had been a big help. The cows were sent back to their field, Roddy appearing to follow them up and shut them in.

‘Breakfast time,’ Lilah announced, and she and Tim kicked off their boots at the back door and went into the house.

‘What a time for a visit!’ remarked Miranda, glancing out of the window as she stood over the toaster. ‘What on earth does
he
want? You’ll have to talk to him, Li. I’m too busy.’ 

Lilah shook her head, unable to see anyone through the window. ‘What are you talking about? Who’s here?’

‘He’s crossing the yard now. And before he knocks – I hope you haven’t forgotten I’m going to Nottingham.’

‘Not much chance of that,’ said Lilah, pulling a face. ‘I still think you’re mad.’

‘Well, think what you like. Now you’ve got Tim, you can manage without me, and with the offer of a lift, it all works out perfectly.’

‘What time’s he coming?’

‘Not sure exactly. Ten or eleven. It was very nice of him to offer, and if you’re here, you can come and meet him. He is your half-brother, after all. Aren’t you curious to see him?’

‘I am,’ offered Roddy.

‘I don’t mind seeing him. Later on, I’ll be happy to get to know him. It’s just …’ Lilah stopped. How could she explain the sense of overload, of struggling from hour to hour, deliberately closing her mind off to anything new? Any distraction now might make her release her hold on the work, the sense of danger, her own sanity.

They waited for the knock on the door, and then Miranda went to open it.

Amos looked wearily round the crowded kitchen, and seemed overcome. For several minutes he said nothing, his head hanging, the picture of misery. ‘Everybody out,’ Miranda suddenly ordered. ‘Leave this to me. There are too many of us in here anyway. Roddy, take Tim and get the calves done. Lilah, you must have things to do.’

‘I’ll just finish my toast first,’ she said calmly. ‘Then I’ll go and see if Jezebel’s calved yet. She didn’t come in with the others this morning.’

Left alone, several minutes later, Miranda sat down with Amos, pushing yet another mug of coffee towards him. ‘Have you come to tell us something?’ she said.

Amos shook his head helplessly. 

‘You didn’t come from home just now, did you?’ she pressed him. ‘You came from the wrong direction. Where have you been?’

‘Up there.’ He nodded towards the Mabberley land. ‘They’ve had trouble there. I saw her – early – walking. The police came.’

‘Yes, Lilah said she’d heard them. Do you know what’s been going on? Have they found somebody?’

‘Phoebe! They’ve arrested Phoebe. I know about that. The Mabberleys told me.’ He was suddenly eager, animated. ‘I came to explain to you, why she did it. Why she had Isaac killed, so that that girl of hers would have to come and live with me.’ He paused, and rubbed his head, all around the swollen bruise. ‘At least …’ He subsided as suddenly as he’d revived. ‘Yes, that must be it,’ he frowned. ‘She wants the girl to live with me, and have my money when I go. It’s my daughter, you see.’

Miranda sat down opposite him, and put one hand on his arm. ‘Amos? Say that again, would you?’

‘Elvira. Phoebe’s girl. The simple one. She’s mine.’

‘Oh my God.’ Miranda wanted to take him in her arms and rock him, but had the sense to resist the urge. But pity rushed through her, in a confused torrent. Pity for Amos, for Elvira and for herself.

Lilah walked briskly through two fields in search of the missing Jezebel, who was another first-time mother. When one of the heifers was due to calve, it would be brought down to join the herd a few days ahead of her time, to become accustomed to the new regime and her new sisters. Then the calving would take place in the company of older animals, which seemed to have a calming influence. It was usual for the new arrival to be found by whoever went to fetch them in for milking, morning or evening. Lilah had heard Guy labelled old-fashioned for this
laissez faire
system, many a time, but he insisted that it worked, and calving difficulties were rare. The heifer, unlike cows on their second or third calf, would sometimes scarcely seem to notice when her baby was removed from her, and she was added in at the end of the milking session, and given quantities of feed to boost her milk yield. It was a source of some self-satisfaction to Lilah that she had accomplished all this herself, in the midst of all the turmoil, when little Endurance had been born.

Lilah wondered whether Miranda’s lift had turned up yet. The road snaked around the perimeter of this field, and two or three cars had passed within the last few minutes; perhaps one of them was Terry, she thought. Perhaps after she’d found the heifer, she could climb out onto the road 
and wait there to wave. Having said goodbye to her mother, she was in no hurry to return to the house and go through it all over again, even if that did mean she could have met her half-brother.

The animal she was seeking came into view amongst the trees. It was standing, head down, sniffing at a blur of pale brown. ‘Ah,’ Lilah said to herself. ‘Too late!’

The calf was dry, probably born the previous evening, and it stood up quite competently when she came into sight. The huge black eyes turned apprehensively towards her, and its mother turned to face the intruder. Lilah could see already that the calf was a bull. From long habit, she sighed. Another trip to market, selling him at a few days old for cat meat. There was no animal so redundant as a male Jersey calf. Though perhaps he was lucky not to be wanted for veal. At least his end would be quick.

He looked a good size, and Lilah doubted whether she could carry him the whole distance back to the yard. The simple way to get him and his mother back would be to pop him into the link box on the back of the tractor and drive slowly home with the heifer following anxiously behind. But that entailed walking back, starting up the tractor, driving up to the field again … quicker, probably, to see whether she could manage him now. 

Guy had always slung calves across his shoulders and marched along as if they were featherweights. Lilah could never balance them, and her instability caused panic in the passenger, whose kicking and struggling made it impossible. Instead, she preferred to hold them to her chest, the four legs bunched together, and the head hanging free. It wasn’t easy, but at least they kept still that way.

‘Come on, my lad,’ she grunted, getting hold of him. The heifer protested softly, only a few feet away. ‘Oof, you’re a heavy one!’

At least it was downhill. Most of the fields sloped down towards the yard, in its natural hollow. Taking it steadily, Lilah managed to get across the first field. The heifer followed her, nosing at the calf once or twice, and mumbling at Lilah in a low voice, trying to make her put the baby down.

She had to drop him, to rest her shoulders and get her breath back. She thought she might try driving them for a bit, although it was famously impossible to persuade a bull calf to do anything you wanted. Neither pushing nor pulling would work. But every few yards they covered would be a gain, and she didn’t think she could carry him again for a while.

When Den came into view from the next gateway, she could hardly believe it. She had 
never, ever, been so pleased to see anyone, and the grin that spread across her face must have been visible a mile away.

‘Can I help?’ he said, once in earshot.

‘You certainly can. Do you think you can carry this little chap? He’s a bit heavy for me.’

‘I might manage him. I’m beginning to get used to your calves. This one looks rather cuddly.’

‘He’s clean and dry, anyway. And he doesn’t struggle, like some. We don’t get fond of the bulls, though. They’re not with us long enough.’

‘Sad.’ He hoisted the calf onto his shoulders, as Guy had used to do.

‘Is this a social call?’ she asked, as they began to cross the field. The heifer continued to trot behind her calf, but kept more distance now the man was carrying him. Lilah also had to trot to keep up with Den’s long strides.

‘We have someone in custody,’ he said, without any preliminaries. Lilah could hear the excitement in his voice, and looked at him searchingly.

‘It’s early days, but we’ve taken fingerprints, and they match the set on the gun that we couldn’t identify. And there’s been a confession, for what it’s worth. And the clothes – it seems they were hers.’

‘
Hers!
’ said Lilah, feeling the thrum of a host of strong emotions.
Sylvia!
‘Who?’ she demanded. ‘Who are you talking about? 

Den huffed a little, and shifted the calf into a better position. ‘This isn’t how I’d imagined telling you,’ he said wryly, his face pink and boyish.

‘Never mind that,’ Lilah exploded. ‘Tell me, will you!’

‘Elvira Winnicombe,’ he said flatly. ‘When I left, she’d already made a full confession. I didn’t stop to hear all of it, but we’re sure. There isn’t any doubt about it. Elvira killed your father and Sam Carter.’

‘But—’ Lilah’s head was whirling. Now that the moment had come, it was dreadful, being told like this that a particular person, someone she knew, had deliberately murdered her father. There was no satisfaction to it. She stopped in her tracks, gazing around at the woods and hills, and down at the farmhouse, the slurry pit, the barn. Nothing made sense. Her head rang with the madness of it. ‘But
why
?’ she said fiercely. ‘Why on earth would she
do
that?’

‘That’s where we’re stuck, for the moment,’ he said mildly.

The effect of his tone was twofold. One part of her wanted to lie down and drum her heels and scream and scream. But his forbearance also reminded her that he was sharing information with her that she was not yet entitled to. She owed it to him to behave rationally. She should be grateful. 

‘Were you there?’ she asked him, after a minute or two. ‘When they arrested her?’

‘Yes. I chased her through the woods. She was very fast for her size. But we caught her soon enough. She didn’t have any shoes on. She began jabbering away, when we interviewed her at the station, although it didn’t make much sense at first. In the end, she told us quite easily. She couldn’t have known what she was doing, poor thing. Seemed quite pleased with herself, as if she’d been really clever.’

‘It sounds horrible. I mean – Elvira! She was on the school bus.’

‘I know.’

‘But Sam. How could she have shot Sam? How could he
let
her?’

Den shook his head minimally, hampered by the calf.

‘Can you really believe her?’ Lilah said, after a while. ‘Is she fit to make a proper confession? Somebody might have put her up to it.’

‘There’s evidence. We don’t have to rely on the confession.’

‘She has a boyfriend,’ Lilah suddenly remembered. ‘A lover. I saw them together. So did Jonathan, I think.’

‘Yes. And I have a feeling he was there when she shot Sam. Otherwise, as you say, it doesn’t seem credible. Who is he? That’s what everyone 
wants to know now. She thinks he’s going to marry her.’

‘I have no idea. I saw them when it was dark. I didn’t see his face.’

Carefully, he took her hand, holding the calf unsteadily with the other one. Behind them the heifer made anxious noises. ‘When this is over …’ he began. ‘Do you think—?’

‘What?’ She felt a mixture of impatience and submission. ‘What will we do?’

‘Forget all this. Be ordinary.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Does that sound good?’

She nodded. ‘I think it will, one of these days. When I can dare to feel hopeful again.’ She wriggled against his protective arm. ‘But, God!
Elvira
!’

A sound drew their attention back to the farmyard. A bright red car drove through the gates. ‘Heavens! That must be Terry,’ she said.

‘Terry?’ He spoke sharply, suddenly all attention. ‘Who’s he?’

‘My half-brother. He’s taking Mum to see his mother in Nottingham. The two Mrs Beardons want to meet each other.’

‘Have you told anybody about this?’

‘What do you mean? Who would we tell?’

‘Us, you fool. The police. She can’t just go off like that.’

‘Oh, I think she did say something to that Dave 
chap. Nobody’s going to stop her, surely. It’s only for a day or two.’ Suddenly, for no reason, she felt scared. ‘Come on. I want to meet him. He is my brother, after all.’

‘So do I,’ said Den urgently. ‘But we’ve got a few minutes. If it is him, they’ll take a minute to load up, won’t they?’

‘Probably. Even so, I think we should get a move on.’

From halfway down the field, they gained a clearer view of the yard, perhaps three hundred yards away. Lilah could see the car already turned round, ready to leave; beside it was her mother and Amos and a man whose face she couldn’t see. Miranda paused halfway between the house and the car, and went back to Amos. Lilah could see her speaking earnestly to him, patting his arm. He began to walk away from her, his head bowed. His direction was roughly that of his own house, across one of the other fields. As Lilah watched, now jogging ahead of the burdened Den, she saw the man open the car door and help Miranda in. There seemed to be something forceful in the way he did it, an unnatural haste. He slammed the door shut and began to walk round the back of the car to the driver’s side. Everything was getting closer. She could call out now, and her mother would hear. She would soon be able to see the man’s face clearly … 

‘Den!’ She stopped. ‘There’s something wrong.’ She felt her world slowly collapsing around her, like a castle built of toy bricks. In that instant she knew who and why and how, vividly, as if the truth had been punched into her.

Den started to run, the calf still around his neck, and the startled heifer also running to keep up. ‘Stop!’ he yelled, in a deafening voice. And then again, even louder, ‘Stop, I tell you!’ The man in the yard looked up. Lilah wondered later what he made of the immensely tall man charging along with a calf on his back and a cow cantering alongside.

However extraordinary it may have looked to him, he didn’t hesitate. He leant over Miranda in the passenger seat; she seemed content to sit there at his bidding. Den paused, to set the calf on the ground. Lilah was moved, even in that moment, by how carefully, how tenderly, he did it.

Then he resumed his charging run, reaching the car in seconds. Terry met him, something long and apparently heavy held in both hands. Like a baseball player, he swung his club, making contact with Den’s head before the policeman could do anything. Lilah, frozen, clenched inside with horror, half expected to see the head go soaring across the yard. Instead, Den simply dropped on the spot, folding up like a collapsing deckchair. Terry ran round the car to the driver’s 
seat, jumped in and set the car quickly in motion, taking Miranda away. Lilah saw her begin to turn back, her mouth open, her eyes wide. The car engine seemed violently loud. She half noticed Amos coming back again, at a shambling run, almost exactly as he had run down to Redstone on the morning of Isaac’s death. Somehow she knew that Amos too had understood in those moments exactly who, and why and how.

The next sound was the strangest of all. A terrible broken screaming came from somewhere, as Den lay there on his back, the side of his face already disfigured and purple. It took Lilah nearly a minute to understand that she was making the noise herself.