Saxon (10 page)

But while the farmer wasn’t too bothered about retribution, he didn’t exactly hold back that evening in the pub. It was too good a story. Word soon spread like wildfire of “Lee Harvey-Oswald-Pike”, the sheep assassin, and occasionally someone would “bleat” when he entered the pub.

Pike never fully realised how people saw him, with his uneasy mixture of ancient Barbour and New-Age philosophies, along with the unhappy combination of body odour and furtiveness. Over the years he had become someone who was generally to be avoided and, if that was not entirely possible, to be poked fun at. Pike was generally unaware of the effect he had on people.

His cottage was small but not unattractive, it just was in need of a lot of care and renovation, and fumigating. A great deal of the local vermin hid in the house, probably thinking that it was the last place he would look for them. The land that came with the house was approximately twenty-five acres; some of it a permanent home to wrecked cars that had been there for so long that Pike no longer noticed them anymore. Several fields were dedicated to vegetables and fruit crops, both of which he sold at the gate, and he had also invested in a large plastic growing tent
where he raised flowers.

He was an accomplished horticulturist, sufficiently successful that, when combined with a freezer full of rabbits, his green fingers provided him with a steady income and self-sufficiency.

He heard a car arriving outside and his stomach somersaulted again. He was not enjoying today.

Thursday, May 16, Hazel Lane, 2.15PM

Saxon drove slowly into Pike’s car parking area. He and Parker had been going over what was known about Pike and planning out their approach and their line of questioning.

‘Right, Parker, Mr Pike is the nearest neighbour that Ms Jenner and Ms Field had. That’s pretty much our only interest in him.’ He paused. ‘We know he’s a pretty aggressive driver.’ They both laughed briefly. ‘What have we got on him?’

Parker obliged. ‘Not much, boss. He was cautioned a few years ago for discharging his shotgun too close to the road, and that’s all. He lives alone, never been married, keeps himself to himself. He is the owner of a firearms and shotgun certificate. He has a .22 Anschutz rifle and a 12-bore double-barrelled shotgun, both of which he uses for vermin control.’

Parker looked up from the thin file and across at Saxon. ‘We may be less than welcome here, boss. It says on this report of his last weapon security check that he is unhelpful, rude and does not like the police. Surprise, surprise.’

Saxon nodded. ‘Let’s see if we can gently coax anything useful out of him. Chances are that he may have seen something without realising it. These rural types certainly make life interesting, don’t they.’ Parker got out of the car first, putting the file into a briefcase and leaving it behind the seat.

They approached Pike’s cottage, only to be stopped in their tracks as Pike emerged suddenly from the somewhat weatherbeaten front door.

Pike didn’t waste any time. He was expecting some kind of
retribution after yesterday’s little encounter down the lane and, judging by his stance, he’d decided that attack was the best form of defence. They had no opportunity to introduce themselves formally. Pike recognised Parker instantly. ‘You’re that fuckin’ policeman, aren’t you? Not that I’d need to recognise you, I can smell police from fuckin’ miles away – what you bleedin’ want anyway? Me guns are all locked up safe, so you can bugger off and stop harassin’ me.’

They barely had time to take in the bizarre appearance before the smell of unwashed body hit them. Saxon read his body language and it told him a lot. Pike was clearly in a very aggressive mood, but he continually turned to face the other way, moving his weight from one foot to the other. In Saxon’s experience, as well as in the textbooks, such behaviour is usually a sign that the person is afraid or holding something back.

Saxon opened his mouth to speak. Pike had paused for a second but then went on immediately. ‘You people are always coming out here an’ tryin’ to catch me out so you can take me guns away, but I’m too bloody smart for you, I keeps them safe don’t you worry. They’s always locked up properly when I’m not using ’em.’ He paused for breath and turned his attention to the “For Sale” display, aggressively tidying up his potatoes and carrots.

Having read the file, Saxon guessed that the best way of establishing control over the interview was a return bout of aggression. He visibly lost patience. ‘Mr Pike, listen for just a minute, will you. We are not here about your guns. We couldn’t give a toss about your sodding guns. And what’s the matter with you people out here, are the farmers spraying something on the crops to make you all bloody-minded?’ It worked. Pike stood momentarily silenced and open-mouthed.

‘I’m Commander Saxon and this is Detective Sergeant Parker, we would like to talk to you about the murders at Anvil Wood House.’

Pike tried desperately to regain some appearance of composure. He realised his original approach had been uncalled for. Backtracking quickly, his aggression was now challenged into what passed for wit in the Pike household. ‘Oh, well I never, a commander no less. And what’s a bigwig like you doing out ’ere then, talking to the likes of us peasants then?’ Pike was visibly relaxing as it dawned on him that he was in no immediate danger of being arrested, or losing his guns.

He motioned them to follow him into the cottage. ‘Don’t want to be seen standing out here talkin’ to the likes of you,’ he muttered, as they followed him in. Saxon was still exercising extreme self-control, as he often had to in his job. Parker on the other hand seemed to be finding the whole thing amusing. He was, in fact, toying with the idea of doing an impromptu gun inspection, just for the hell of it. But he stopped seeing the funny side when Saxon caught his eye, and he returned to being a policeman on a murder investigation again. Winding up the Andy Pikes of the world was not on the agenda for today, tempting though the idea was.

Pike’s muttering had turned to his views on his recently deceased neighbours. As they entered the cottage, he was making it clear that he had little liking for either of the ladies and no sympathy for their passing. Nor did he have any time for their unnatural lifestyle. Shouldn’t be allowed, as far as Pike was concerned. Saxon let him talk. Neither he nor Parker would have dreamt of interrupting Pike at this stage.

They took in their surroundings. The fact that Pike didn’t offer them anything like a cup of tea wasn’t a problem. It was a relief. Pike’s exterior appearance would have told them that the cottage wasn’t likely to be any cleaner or more wholesome. And indeed, it wasn’t. If anything, it was worse than they could have anticipated. The place was just disgusting and the smell of dog piss nearly made them keel over. Even the surface of the sink had stalagmites.

Pike sat down and made himself comfortable. He didn’t offer them a seat, for which again they were both grateful. All the more so when they noticed the two dogs hadn’t stopped scratching for one second since they arrived, and the chairs were likely to be the hive of whatever it was that was biting today.

Saxon thought he’d detected a slight smile on Pike’s weathered features when the murders were mentioned. It was hard to put an age on Pike, just by looking. Their records showed that he was just past 50 but he looked quite a bit older.

Pike became more talkative the less the two policemen said. This was a ploy Saxon used when suspects with room-temper-ature IQs weren’t forthcoming with information. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, so the vast majority of people dislike silences during a conversation.

While Saxon stood as far from Pike as was practical within the small confines of his front room, apparently giving him his undivided attention, Parker wandered around, generally eyeballing the place. He had two reasons. The first was to look for anything incriminating and the second was the hope that maybe, if he kept moving, the Jack Russell would stop trying to shag his leg.

Pike seemed unable to concentrate on both of the men at the same time and this was clearly worrying him. Several times during his monologue, he glanced behind to check that Parker was not too far away.

‘Mr Pike,’ interrupted Parker, ‘are you a birdwatcher by any chance?’ Parker looked down at the ever-persistent Russ, as he tried to shake him off his left foot, wishing at the same time that he had some anti-riot CS gas spray.

Suddenly, Pike lurched forward, delivering Russ a firm swipe across his hindquarters. ‘Will you leave that man’s fuckin’ leg alone you daft little bugger – you don’t know what you’ll catch.’ Russ yelped and ran out through the front door. Pike continued, ‘What do you mean – birdwatcher?’ he said incredulously. ‘I ain’t
got no time for that sort of rubbish. I watch ’em for a second or two just before I blows their ’eds off, if that’s what you mean.’ Pike grinned at his little joke.

Parker tried to laugh, in the interests of furthering the information flow, but found he couldn’t. ‘Well, Mr Pike, it’s these binoculars here,’ he said, indicating an expensive-looking pair on the windowsill. ‘Big, aren’t they?’ He picked them up and came to stand beside Saxon so that the two of them were facing the sitting Pike. He leaned forward. ‘I’ll bet you can see right into your neighbours’ sitting room with these,’ he said, in a low and conspiratorial voice.

Pike was taken aback, both at the sudden friendliness and the implied suggestion that, unusually for him, he picked up on immediately. ‘I don’t know about that,’ he said quickly. ‘Never looked, did I. Mind my own, don’t I.’ Pike began to squirm. And it wasn’t just from the broad spectrum of animal life inhabiting his chair and quite possibly his underwear too.

Parker persisted. ‘Come on, Mr Pike, they were sitting here, right by the window, and I’m sure that if I look through them I’ll be able to see Barbara Jenner’s house quite clearly.’ He took a couple of steps back to the window. Pike half stood out of his chair. Parker noticed but continued to put the binoculars up to his eyes. ‘Oh my, there it is,’ he said, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible. Parker had a perfect view of Anvil Wood House. From Pike’s front-room window, the drive and the front door were both in plain view.

Saxon pressed Pike on this point saying. ‘Surely, Mr Pike, there must be nights when there’s not much on the telly.’ Pike didn’t answer. Saxon turned to Parker. ‘Wouldn’t you say, Parker?’

Parker turned back from the window. ‘I’d say that happens more often than not these days, what with the soaps and the cookery shows and the garden makeovers.’ He laughed, almost sincerely.

‘Makes you wonder why you pay for a licence, doesn’t it, Mr Pike?’

Pike started at the mention of the word licence, just as Parker had intended he should. It was irresistible. Pike held his breath.

Saxon was aware of the diversion and a part of him shared Parker’s amusement, but he wanted to pursue the binoculars theme because, with no evidence that could help them pinpoint the killer, anything at all that Pike might have seen could be useful and could even change the course of the investigation.

‘So, you’re bored with the telly,’ Saxon went on, ‘and you happen to see the binoculars there, by the window. Why wouldn’t you look through them, just to see what’s going on out there. After all, if you don’t like quiz shows and you’re not into ideal homes, there’s nothing much on the box that’s worth watching, is there?’

Pike breathed again. They weren’t going to pursue the licence question, thank heavens.

‘Well, no, s’pose not, but…’ he started, with relief.

‘…Nobody’s going to arrest you for looking, are they’, continued Parker. ‘After all, it’s your window, it’s your view,’ he said.

‘Well, all right, I might’ve took the odd peek, now and then,’ Pike admitted. ‘And I ’ave seen things, you know, comings an’ goings from time to time.’ He warmed quickly to this new subject. ‘Mostly I was keepin’ a lookout for crooks and the like. Someone might come and nick me plants or me chickens or something.’ He was almost indignant. ‘We gotta look after ourselves out ’ere, you know. By the time you lot turn up, we could all be murdered an’ dead.’

Saxon smiled to himself.
He’s on a roll now; there’ll be no stopping him with a bit of luck
. He remained silent, as Pike continued to reinvent himself as the guardian of the neighbourhood watch.

‘And did you see any comings and goings last night?’ Saxon
asked him.

‘No, I didn’t, I wasn’t ’ere.’

‘Where precisely were you, Mr Pike?’ asked Parker.

‘Out.’

‘Fine, that’s a great help. Where out?’ Parker pressed him.

‘I was rabbitin’ with a lamp.’

‘Come on, Mr Pike, you can tell us more than that – we need to know exactly where you were rabbiting, or maybe it wasn’t rabbits you were after.’ Saxon paused for a second. ‘Maybe you were out killing a couple of dykes, Mr Pike. You didn’t like Barbara Jenner, did you, Mr Pike? You didn’t care for Ms Field either. I don’t think you’re telling us everything.’ Saxon fixed Pike with a stare that made him think, for some reason, of the rabbits that were caught suddenly in the light beam when he went lamping.

‘Bleedin’ ’ell,’ Pike shouted. ‘What you accusin’ me of? I ain’t done nothin’. I wasn’t even ’ere. I told you.’ Pike was in a panic all over again. He suddenly realised he’d been having a long conversation with the enemy. Not like him at all. And look where it had got him. With a policeman at close quarters either side of him, Pike was feeling somewhat overwhelmed. The questions seemed relentless, and so fast.

These bastards ’ave ’ad talkin’-fast training, an’ I’m getting into trouble ’ere
. Another wave of fresh sweat was added to the several already coating his body.

‘We’re not accusing you of anything, Mr Pike,’ said Parker quickly but not too reassuringly. ‘It’s just that we want to be very clear that you understand how important it is that you tell us the truth here.’

‘We need to be able to cross-check your information with that we receive from other witnesses,’ said Saxon, planting the thought in Pike’s mind that there was little point in lying since they were already in possession of a great many facts. By suggesting to Pike that his information would only be used to
corroborate something they had already heard from somebody else, Saxon hoped to prise more out of Pike than the latter would normally have felt comfortable disclosing.