Small Town Secrets (Some Very English Murders Book 2) (9 page)

There was a sound. She stopped dead, and let her phone’s
light fade. Was that a twig cracking? Was that a voice? Something moved, up
ahead.

She had to go on. She hadn’t come this far just to turn
tail and run away.

These people could hold the key to Warren’s demise, she
reminded herself. Or at least, they could offer insight into a part of his
character that the rest of Upper Glenfield had no idea about.

Her mouth was uncomfortably dry but she walked forwards, as
decisively as she could.

Lights flared and she recoiled, throwing her hands in front
of her face. “Whoa!”

“Penny?” said a low, male voice.

“Yeah. Don’t point that thing at me.”

The beam lowered to the floor. Off to one side, a circular
lantern was turned on, illuminating the area with more helpful and less
dazzling light. She could now see two figures, both male, standing about ten
feet in front of her. Both had close-fitting hats pulled low, and they were
standing with their feet apart in a mock-security-guard sort of stance.

“Hi, guys,” she said as brightly as she could. Like it was perfectly
normal to be wandering around in the dark with strange men. “Blue? Lee?”

The taller man on the left raised his gloved hand. “I’m
Blue. That’s Lee.”

Lee waved.

“Are you in charge?” she said.

“I’m the leader,” Lee said. “But there are others. We’re
more of a collective, really.”

“So you’re not really the leader, are you?” Blue mocked,
and swore affectionately.

Lee shrugged. “I set it up, though. And I allowed the rest
of you to be equal with me. Consider it a benign dictatorship, then. I am a
benevolent dictator.”

“It’s like our current government,” Blue muttered. “The
illusion of democracy, nothing more. The oppression of the common man, the…”

“Oh, do shut up.”

“Yes, master,” Blue said, and Lee swiped a back-handed
play-blow across his friend’s chest.

“Sorry about my
comrade,
” Lee said. “I liked your
photos. What’s your set-up?”

“Er …” She fumbled in her camera bag. “I’m really new to
it. I mean, until last week I just had a point-and-shoot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. We all start somewhere. Did
you read the health and safety rules in the ‘files’ section of the group?” Lee
asked.

“Ah. No, sorry, I didn’t.” She hadn’t expected something so
formal as health and safety rules. Was she going to be asked to sign a risk
assessment?

She heard one of them sigh and she thought it came from
Blue. Lee stepped forward and said, “I recommend that you do. We’re not going
in a mine tonight so you don’t need to worry about blackdamp but you ought to
look it up. Have you got gloves?”

She was about to say no, but she patted her pockets and
found a thin pair stashed there from the winter. “Oh, yes.” She tried to sound
as if she was all prepared and that it didn’t just happen to be accidental.

“Good. Wear them. Watch out for needles and syringes and
animal droppings. You know all that, it’s obvious stuff.”

“What about asbestos?” Penny asked in growing alarm.

“You’re right for thinking an air raid shelter might have
fire protection, but actually, asbestos wasn’t commonly used in them,” Lee said
with convincing confidence. “It didn’t get used much in building until the
1950s.”

“Ahh, right.”

“Lead paint, on the other hand,” Lee continued, “is far
more of a risk. Don’t pick at cracked or peeling paint, and have a good shower
when you get home.”

“Oh. I won’t lick a thing.”

“Let’s go!” Blue said suddenly. “Are you with me? I’ve got
some cool lighting effects I want to try in there.”

“Lead on,” said Lee. “Ready?”

Penny swallowed and licked her dry lips. “Of course.”

The lantern and the torch were enough to light their way.
It was all rather thrilling, once Penny squashed her natural concerns. She
wasn’t sure how she was going to explain this to Cath or to Drew: it was hard
to phrase “so I went off in the night with two men I met on the internet” in a
way that wouldn’t cause alarm.

“How many of you folks usually come out and take part in
these night time expeditions?” she asked as they went along, refusing to say
“raids”.

“Sometimes it’s just us. Sometimes more. A couple of weeks
ago, four of us were exploring a derelict mansion up near Lincoln. The ballroom
was amazing,” said Lee. “There were these chandeliers hanging down, all coated
with dust and spiders’ webs, but when we lit them up it was like something from
‘Great Expectations’. It was stunning.”

So he was a well-read and educated sort of bloke. “What
about Warren Martin? The mini-market manager?” Penny asked. She held back on
calling him “the man who was murdered.” Partly, she felt that it wasn’t a nice
way to be forever remembered.

The reaction from both men was negative. Lee hissed, and
Blue immediately swore, and said, “What about that idiot? No one misses that
great bumbling oaf blundering around. Some people…”

Penny winced. “But he came out with you, exploring, right?
I’ve seen his photos.”

Blue called him a stream of names, and Penny’s eyebrows
shot up. Blue’s vocabulary was much more narrow and restricted than Lee’s. Lee
interrupted Blue’s vitriol. “Steady on, man. The guy is dead, after all, so
regardless of what you thought of him in life, try and show a little respect,
all right?”

Blue just shrugged. “No. It would be hypocritical of me to
say nice things about the guy now, don’t you think? Nasty little…”

“What was so bad about him?” Penny asked. “I haven’t lived
in Upper Glenfield for long. I met him in the mini-market, and he seemed …
okay.” She kept in mind that the two men’s impressions of Warren would be quite
different to her own – as Drew’s had been – and she was curious about how he
had so clearly annoyed them.

“Whatever. Are we doing this or what? I need to set up my
tripod,” Blue said, and he stamped ahead, carrying the lantern and swearing
under his breath. She was disappointed that he wasn’t going to answer the
question.

Lee still had the torch in his hand, and he remained with
Penny. “Don’t mind him,” he said, pointing at the receding shadow of Blue,
making the torch light dance and flare. “He’s got work issues, and it makes him
a little stressy.”

“Work issues. Oh, I know all about that. What does he do
for a living?”

“Nothing, and that’s the problem. Maybe I should have said
that he’s got lack of work issues. Anyway, so why the interest in Warren
Martin? Most women ran a mile in the other direction from him.”

“Just sheer gossip and nosiness,” she confessed. “And the
fact that I’ve moved to a place where two people have been killed in less than
a year.”

“Yeah, it’s not always like this!” Lee laughed and then
shook his head, his head torch swinging. “It’s a rum do. Ah, here’s the
shelter. Hang on,” he said as she stepped forward to the steps that descended
below a dark hump. “Leave off about Warren, though, would you? He just didn’t
fit in with us. He upset things in the group. He tried too hard, if you know
what I mean.”

“I think so,” she said. “Like he did with women, I suppose.
He tried too hard there, too.”

Lee snorted. “Poor guy. He was as irritating as anything,
but he didn’t deserve to die. But you won’t find anyone in this group being
particularly sorry about it, that’s all. Don’t read any more into it than that.
Okay. Got your gloves on? Ready for this?”

“Yup. All ready.”

Lee shouted down into the shelter. “Don’t set off some mad
flash, will you, Blue? We’re coming down.”

There was an echoing laugh, and as soon as they crept to
the bottom of the steps, a brilliant light flared as Blue took a photo of them,
caught and startled. Lee cursed at him, and Blue laughed loudly and without
remorse.

* * * *

Lee and Blue insisted on walking Penny back into the centre
of Upper Glenfield. “You can’t be too careful,” Lee said as they stood at the
crossroads. She was reluctant to let them accompany her to her own front door.
Letting these two strangers know exactly where she lived seemed too chancy,
even for her.

That nervousness was in spite of the fact that everyone in
the town probably already knew where the “Londoner” lived. If in doubt, they
just had to follow the sound of the motorbike and the barking dog.

“Thank you,” she said. “It was a fun evening.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. We’re always keen to have new
members. Do get the photos uploaded when you can.”

“It’s Blue’s photos that I can’t wait to see,” Penny said.
“With those glow sticks and the long, slow exposure. They are going to look
fantastic. But not that one of me being surprised, please. You can delete that.”
She knew he wouldn’t.

Blue grinned. She could see him more clearly as they were
standing under an orange street light. He was in his late thirties, and almost
skeletal, with jutting cheekbones accented by the unflattering overhead light.
“Yeah,” he said without false modesty. “They are going to be a cracking set of
shots.”

“Yes. Right. Okay, thanks again…” Penny began to look up
and down the silent road, preparing to cross.

“Take care.”

“Bye.”

She walked slowly, conscious of the two sets of eyes behind
her. She imagined that they were watching her and she didn’t want to turn around
to see if that were true.

Halfway down River Street, she broke, and glanced behind.

The two men were still there, dark unidentifiable shapes in
the night, camera bags and paraphernalia making strange lumps around their
bodies.

So they were probably going to work out which house she
lived at anyway, she thought as she unlocked her door and let herself in. Kali
bounded out from the living room, wagging her tail, gave her a sniff to work
out where she’d been, and then returned to her warm spot on the sofa.

Penny wandered in and sat heavily on the arm of the chair,
and plopped her camera bag on the floor. What had she learned, she asked
herself. Apart from the fact that I am potentially irresponsible with no sense
of personal danger?

Well, I’ve learned that Warren was not well-liked in the
urban exploration world. And he wasn’t well-liked in the camera club, either.
He’s got a talent for not getting on with people, she decided.

Lee had been evasive about Warren but Blue had been
downright rude, and angry. She mentally added two more suspects to her list of
potential killers.

“I’m going to watch Eric like a hawk,” Penny whispered to
Drew.

He shook his head in despair. “This is madness.”

“It’s organised chaos, certainly. But this is how art
happens. Don’t worry.”

“Art? I can think of some short words for this–”

“Oh, hush.”

Drew pulled himself up onto a table, and sat there, his
legs swinging like a small child on his first day at big school. They were in
the industrial unit that Drew used as a forge. Since downscaling his smithing
business, it was mostly quiet and there were large spaces left where he’d sold
some equipment that he no longer needed. But it still had a pleasingly
work-like air, and Penny had decided it would make an excellent backdrop for
some of the dog photos for the calendar. She admitted it was partly due to her
growing interest in urban exploration. She’d even invested in a combat jacket,
in a moment of rashness while shopping at Lincoln indoor market on Friday. So
far, she’d bottled out of wearing it. She thought she might add a red satin
lining and some embroidery.

She’d managed to round up a few members of the camera club,
and some volunteer dog walkers had brought the better behaved dogs to the forge
that Saturday morning.

Better behaved? She swallowed her groan as a rangy collie
cross with multi-coloured eyes dashed past her and wedged itself between a
chair and a pile of boxes, its hindquarters wagging furiously as it found
something delightful and probably rancid into which it plunged its muzzle.

“I still think that people want backgrounds of fields and
grass and trees. And butterflies,” Drew said, folding his arms.

“There’s a beauty in here. It’s about the contrast,” she
said crossly. “Hard metal and soft snuggly puppies. Anyway, it’s not my
problem, as such. Eric told me quite plainly that he was in charge, so I shall
sit here with you and let him get on with it.”

“You’re mean,” Drew said. “You set this up and then hand
over a mess to him. That’s unfair.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “But he wants to take over, and
it’s not really my business. Not until I get the finished shots. Then he can
butt out, and I will take over.”

“Fair enough. Is he a suspect? Is that why you’re watching
him?” Suddenly, Drew unfolded his arms and half turned to her, hissing, “Hang
on a minute. Is this all a set-up just so as you can watch Eric?”

“No, not at all! I didn’t even know that he would come
because it was such short notice.”

Drew narrowed his eyes at her.

“But yes,” she admitted. “He is a suspect. Look at him!
He’s so arrogant and pompous and overbearing. Ugh.”

“You can’t put him on your list just because you don’t like
him. Do you have any evidence at all?”

“No. I was hoping Nina would be here because I really want
to ask her about what went on between her and Warren, and between Warren and
her dad. But apparently she’s got a part time job up at that fast food place on
the roundabout north of town.”

Drew kicked his legs against the table. The collie had been
lured out of the corner and was now posing on a bench, as if it had been born
to be a supermodel. Eric was flapping around with a lamp and muttering about
tungsten.

“That will be a good shot,” Drew said in surprise.

“Of course it will,” Penny said. “Anyway … I have more
suspects than just Eric now.” She took a deep breath and told him about her
night time jaunt with the urban exploration duo of Blue and Lee. She downplayed
it as much as possible, but she could tell that Drew was anxious.