Ravens Gathering (15 page)

It was time to move on.  He couldn’t honestly say his
curiosity had been fully satisfied, but he would have to make do for now. 
Crossing the yard, he headed for the opening that he guessed would take him
across the farm.  He didn’t want to go back the way he’d come, and he had
no desire to return to the road.

At the stables, he stopped to stroke the horses.  They
nuzzled him playfully.  For a few moments, he let everything else slip
from his mind.  He had no real experience with horses.  They’d been
around during his childhood, but only those ridden around the lanes by a select
few of the villagers.  He’d never ridden one, or even helped out in
stables.  Yet he felt drawn to them, and enjoyed the warmth they showed
him, with no requirement for him to give them anything back other than the palm
of his hand as it ran up and down their necks.  It would be very easy to
just stay here and share time with these wonderful animals.

Even as he became aware of that idea, he heard a sound
behind him.  Footsteps.  Turning, he saw a tall woman walk out of the
barn.  She was about fifty yards away, so it was difficult to tell, but he
guessed she was almost six foot.  Her hair was long and dark and tied back
in a pony tail.  She wore a work shirt, jeans and boots he would normally
have associated with a labourer.  Yet she walked with an elegance that
belied her masculine attire.  He caught only a glimpse of her face before
she headed for the house.  That first, brief impression suggested she was
in her thirties.  And attractive.  Not in the sexy, sophisticated way
that Tanya McLean was.  Nor did he immediately think of her as a classic
beauty.  But there was definitely something about her...

She obviously hadn’t spotted him, though.  And as she
had just emerged from a building that had been empty only minutes earlier, he
pushed any thoughts of attraction from his mind as he began to wonder how that
had happened.  It seemed judicious at this point to conceal himself. 
The edge of the stable block was only a couple of feet away.  Patting the
nearest horse in a gentle goodbye, he moved around the corner, glancing back to
make sure she hadn’t turned and seen him.  She hadn’t, but two more people
were coming out of the barn.  Two men this time.

Ducking out of sight, he didn’t see the taller of the two
men look in his direction and smile to himself.

Driving back from his meeting, Ian was feeling pleased with
himself.  The bank manager
had
been caught on the hop by his
promptness.  Together with Ian’s charm – accomplished through years of
practice – he had been easy to persuade of the merits of the renegotiated
loan.  He had at least three months of breathing space.  It wasn’t
enough to allow him to sit back and relax, but it would be one less distraction
so he could focus on the important job of getting the cottages built and sold –
or finding another solution to their problems.

Not that he could do anything practical about that until he
was home.  With the worry about the bank out of the way, he allowed
himself to reflect on his conversation with Martin the night before.  He’d
expected it to be awkward, especially when Tanya showed no signs of going to
bed before their guest returned from visiting his family.  Her decision to
leave them alone had made it easier.  Even so, in spite of his many years
of experience of dealing with people, he still wasn’t sure how to tactfully go
about accusing someone of having a fling with his wife.

Martin broached the subject first.

“It must have seemed strange seeing Tanya holding my hand.”

Ian hadn’t realised that either of them had been aware that
he was watching them when they crossed the farmyard that afternoon.  His
experience told him to keep his mouth shut and listen.

“Who was the band that sang When You’re in Love With a
Beautiful Woman?”

Dr. Hook
, Ian thought.  The nail had been hit
squarely on the head.

“I used to listen to those words and wonder what it would be
like to feel all that insecurity and jealousy.”  Martin seemed to be
gazing into space as he said this, a rueful half-smile on his face. 
“Still wonder sometimes.”  His focus returned to Ian.  “I’m guessing
you
do
know what it’s like.”  He paused, but must have realised
that Ian had no desire to interrupt him.  “She
was
genuinely
disturbed by what she experienced in the clearing.  I think she just took
my hand because she needed to feel comforted.”  His smile broadened, but
it was an awkward one.  He shrugged, and that didn’t seem very natural
either.  “I’m not sure
I
was the right person to offer comfort, but
I was the only one there at the time.”

He glanced towards the door, as if expecting Tanya to storm
in and confront them over talking about her behind her back.  The door,
slightly ajar, didn’t move.  Ian had heard the familiar creaks of the
floorboards overhead, and knew she was well beyond earshot.

“If you
are
concerned about me being here, I will
understand,” Martin had continued.  “It’s too late for me to find anywhere
else to sleep tonight, so I’d prefer it if you let me stay till morning. 
But I can be gone first thing.”

 His candour was disarming, and Ian had felt his
reservations diminish.  He knew it would be impossible for them to
disappear altogether.  As the song said, you watch your friends and you
look for lies.  He hadn’t caught her out yet, but he had his
suspicions.  And there was no guarantee that Martin was telling the
truth.  But as they talked, he felt more at ease with their guest, and
when he went on to describe the events in the clearing, Ian was
intrigued.  Which was why they’d arranged to leave early in the morning so
he could see for himself.

And it
had
been very spooky.  Ian had walked
through the woods many times, often passing through, and occasionally even
stopping in, the clearing.  There had never been anything out of the
ordinary there before.  No strange sights, no palpable sensations. 
This morning, it had been like visiting a completely different site.  The
layout was identical.  Nothing had altered physically, apart from the
congregation of birds.  Yet he felt as if it was his first time
there.  Much as he wanted to be able to explain that to himself – let
alone anyone else – he couldn’t.

Leaving to go to his meeting had been harder than he’d
imagined.  There was something about the place that he felt drawn
to.  But he was also aware that it must be similar to the way a rodent is
hypnotised by a snake.  He was drawn to it, yet it felt somehow dangerous.

As he wound the Land Rover through country lanes, that
thought seemed preposterous.  Overhead, the sun was shining down. 
Nearing the village, on either side of him, the ever-present trees had given
way briefly to open farmland.  In the distance a herd of cows stood idly
watching the world go by.  All was well with the world.  Deep inside,
though, he knew he had felt something that suggested all was
not
well
with the world.

Turning off the road and up the track that took him home, it
occurred to him that maybe it wasn’t the clearing.  The other common
factor for both Tanya and him had been that they had Martin with them. 
That thought didn’t stay with him for long.  As he pulled into the
farmyard, the police car parked outside the kitchen gave him something else to
think about.

Everybody tempts her, according to the song.  And at
least since they’d moved up here, that’s what Ian had felt was happening. 
It stood to reason, then, that a man in uniform would have Tanya positively
drooling, so as he entered the house, Ian was preparing himself for the
worst.  Instead, he was confronted with a very irritated wife standing
with her arms folded across her chest and an expression on her face that would
leave no one in any doubt that she was not happy about them being there.

Sure enough, the officer was hardly movie star
material.  As he introduced himself, Ian took in his appearance.  He
guessed he barely made the minimum height requirement.  Not that he was
short, but with a burgeoning waistline he certainly didn’t come across as
particularly imposing.  In his early twenties, the tightness of his
uniform didn’t bode well for his future health prospects.  With short-cropped
ginger hair and a more than generous sprinkling of freckles that gave his face
an almost orange hue, Ian could understand why the officer’s physical
limitations had outweighed the potential attraction of the uniform.

They were all standing.  Tanya had clearly not offered
a seat or any other form of hospitality.

“Been here long?” Ian inquired casually, pulling a chair out
from under the kitchen table.  As he sat down, he gestured for the others
to join him.

The constable nodded his thanks.  “About five minutes. 
I was just explaining why I was here to Mrs McLean.”

“Apparently, they think Martin’s stolen a van and murdered a
dog.”  There was something about Tanya’s tone that made Ian wonder if she
hoped their guest might be guilty.  He looked at her questioningly, but
she seemed not to notice.  Or possibly chose not to.  She remained
standing.

Constable Oakes introduced himself properly, and relayed his
experiences at the Post Office.  He finished by explaining: “I’m not here
to make any accusations against anyone.  But the information I was given
at the shop suggested the possibility of a link between the incidents last
night and Mr Gates’ arrival in the village.”

“Of course, Officer.”  Unlike his wife, Ian felt there
was nothing to be gained by antagonising the Police.  Due deference would
at least help to rebuild any bridges Tanya might have broken down.  Though
from the appreciative glances Oakes gave her, Ian wondered if he might have
underestimated how much a man will put up with from an attractive woman. 
“What can we do to help?”

He had got on well with Martin, both last night and this
morning.  But he had no real reason to defend him, or to be confident that
he wasn’t guilty of any crimes.  Not that he had any reason to consider
him guilty either.  But it was clear that the only appropriate thing to do
here was cooperate with the inquiry.

Oakes had been referring to his notebook while he was
talking.  He turned now to a blank page.  “Can you account for his
movements at all last night?”

“Any particular time?”

“I can’t confirm anything specific because I don’t want to
lead you in any direction.”

“Fair enough.”  As the first time Ian had met Martin
was on the cusp between afternoon and evening, he started there.  Although
Tanya didn’t add anything to his comments, he occasionally looked to her if he
was unsure if he had recalled everything correctly.  Her only confirmation
was a curt nod.

When he had finished, Oakes read back through his notes for
almost a minute.  The silence was uncomfortable.  Ian briefly
wondered whether it was a deliberate psychological strategy, but from his
assessment of the constable so far, he guessed he was just a slow reader – and
probably a slow thinker as well.

Eventually, Oakes looked up.

“You said he left the pub
some time
between eight and eight-thirty.”

“That’s right.  I wasn’t keeping track of the time, but
I would imagine it was around quarter past.  I know he was going to be
late for...”  What was it?  An appointment?  It suddenly struck
Ian how odd this meeting of the Gates family seemed.  “...his family
reunion.”

“And then you didn’t see him until quarter to eleven?”

“Or thereabouts.”  Ian didn’t want to be pinned down on
a time that he genuinely wasn’t sure about.

“And you think he was at his parents’ house in between times?”

“That’s what he told us.  I assume you’ll want to check
that with them anyway.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Well if it’s any help, I know his father and brother will
be working on our development at the moment.  I’ll happily show you the
way myself.”

Oakes looked up from his notes, apparently incapable of
concealing his suspicions. 
Columbo
, he
wasn’t.  “His father and brother
work
for you?”

“It’s more of a partnership at the moment,” Ian said,
immediately wondering why he felt he needed to explain himself.  At the
same time he understood that Oakes was making all kinds of connections in his
head that would probably take him nowhere, but could lead to some awkward
conversations and unnecessary revelations.

The policeman bent over his notebook and scribbled furiously
for a few moments.  When he’d finished, he read back what he’d written,
pausing once or twice to make corrections.  Satisfied at last, he
continued with his questions.

“What time did you go to bed?”

“As I said, Tanya went to bed shortly after Martin came
back.  Martin and I went at the same time.  I’d guess around
twelve-thirty.”

“And you
know
that Mr Gates went straight to bed?”

Ian smiled his most disarming smile.  “Short of
following him into his room, how could I know that for sure?”

“Wouldn’t you have heard him?”

Realising that a demonstration might be more effective than
words, Ian showed Oakes the layout of the house.  When they returned to
the kitchen table, there was a long silence as yet more laborious notes were
made.  Eventually, the policeman looked up again.

“Would it be possible for him to have left the house without
disturbing you?”

“Probably.  The kitchen door can usually be heard from
our room, but I honestly don’t know whether we would hear it in the middle of
the night.  But he also has the door right next to his room.”  Even
as he said it, he realised it sounded as if he was making a case for Martin to
be the culprit.  That didn’t seem right, but the truth was that he could
have gone out and come back and they would have been none the wiser.

“So he could come and go as he pleased?”  Ian nodded
his response.  “But he was here first thing this morning?”

“Yes.  I was up just after six, and I saw Martin for
the first time about six-thirty.”

“And did he look as if he might have been up in the night?”

“He looked the way I would expect anyone to look first thing
in the morning.  Bleary-eyed and hair all over the place.”

“So if he did go out, he’d have had to do it between
twelve-thirty and six-thirty?”

“I’d have definitely heard him if I’d been up, and if I was
him I’d want to wait for me to settle down, so it’s more likely the window’s
between one and six.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Oakes said, and made some more
notes.  He looked thoughtfully at them again.  Ian looked over at Tanya,
who rolled her eyes.  For the first time in ages, he thought they might be
sharing a joke.

“So he would have had to walk down to the village, kill the
dog, steal the van and hide it somewhere, and get back here – all within five
hours.  It’s plenty of time, but where would he hide the van?”

“We’re in the country, officer.  There are loads of
places.”  Ian smiled as he realised that maybe Oakes was not as stupid as
he looked.  He wanted Ian to come up with the answer himself. 
Obligingly, he did so.  “He could even have hidden it in one of our old
farm buildings.  Do you think we should check?”

Tanya stayed in the house.  The area around the
outbuildings was muddy, and she didn’t see any need to go out there and spoil
her shoes.  Nor did she see any point in changing into wellies when there
was no need for her to be involved anyway.

Having been dressed for a meeting with the bank manager, Ian
did need to retrieve his boots from the Land Rover.  The delay clearly
left Oakes feeling impatient but, by the time they had walked up to the old
barns and stores, it was clear that the policeman was wishing he’d had the
foresight to bring some alternative footwear.

The buildings were set out in a square.  The side that
bordered the track was open, with the buildings forming the other sides. 
Facing them as they turned into the yard was an old hay barn.  The
supports held up a solid roof, and beneath that were the remnants of a few old
hay bales that had been there since before Ian had bought the farm.  Apart
from that, the space was empty, unused, giving a clear view across a field
beyond and then the inevitable tree line.

To the left and right were brick built structures that
stretched back around fifty feet or so.  The bricks on the left hand
building were interrupted with several doors, mainly at ground level, but at
either end there were stone steps leading up to doors on the first floor. 
Beyond the doors were the remains of workshops and store rooms.  The
timbers upstairs were rotten, making it almost treacherous to try to traverse
any of the rooms up there.  On the ground floor, although the rooms inside
would be big enough to hide a vehicle, the doors weren’t large enough to allow
access.

Which left the building on the right hand side.  This
was as long as the other one, but only had two sets of doors in it.  The
nearest was a standard size, large enough for a person to pass through, but
certainly nothing bigger than that.  Further along were the larger doors,
tall enough and wide enough to allow a combine harvester to pass through. 
Most cars or vans would probably only need one of the doors open.  Ian
knew that the building was empty, which was why he never locked it.  He
reached for the handle of one of the doors and heaved back on it.  In spite
of it having been neglected for a few years, it swung open easily.

Side by side, the two men entered the building.  There
was no van.  But it had been there.  Even before he opened the door,
Ian had known that.  The tyre tracks in the mud outside had been fresh.