Lois was early, and there was no sign as yet of Cowgill. She found an old umbrella under the back seat, and got out into the rain. It was much lighter now, and she trod – in wellies this time – along the familiar track to the clearing meeting place. As it came in sight, she saw something that caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Someone was there already. Leaning against a tree? Watching out for her? It was a man, she could see that, but his attitude was odd. He was standing up, certainly, but he seemed to be looking down at the ground, and not moving. A shower of raindrops fell from the tree above her, and she dodged to one side, shaking the water from her head. She looked again. Still no movement. He must have heard her, so what on earth…?
Walking forward slowly, Lois glanced behind. Surely Cowgill would be here in a minute. She could hardly go running back now. Her wellies would slow her up, and this man, whoever he was, could easily catch her. If he wanted to, that is. He had certainly shown no interest in her so far.
As she got closer, she saw why. The woods spun around her, and she grabbed at a low branch for support. Slowly, slowly she crept forward, hand to her mouth. Now she could see that the man was tied to a tree, right next to the broad stump where she perched for her meetings with Cowgill. The rope went round and round, anchoring him in an upright position. Only his head was free, and lolled hopelessly down.
Lois took a deep breath and marched forward, dizziness gone. She came up to the bound figure and peered at his face. He was dead. There was no doubt about this. He was the second dead man she had seen in the last month, and as she heard the crackle of twigs under Cowgill’s approaching feet, she knew that this second death, and who it was, and where it was, was no coincidence.
¦
Lois had assumed there would be immediate telephone calls, summoning police doctor, ambulance, and all the paraphernalia she had witnessed at the major’s spectacular demise. But Cowgill just stood and looked. Then he put his hand on her shoulder and said quietly, “You all right, Lois?” She nodded, and then he said, “Right. Nothing we can do for him now, so let’s have that talk. Can you manage that?”
Again she nodded. “Can we go over there?” she said.
“He can’t hear us,” said Cowgill, and Lois looked at him bleakly.
“I know,” she said. “But he never liked me, and I’d rather not have to look at him.”
She was calm, and had rehearsed what she wanted to say. It was brief, well-organized, and put Gary Needham in a very bad light indeed. As a consequence, she was surprised at Cowgill’s reaction.
“No,” he said, “don’t sack him. If you can cope, keep him on. We’re getting well on into this, and Gary Needham can lead us even further.” He paused.
“Your turn,” said Lois flatly. “What’s it all about? That Joanne Murphy’ll probably have another go at my kids. And how can I send Gary to jobs when I don’t trust him?” She turned involuntarily to look at the motionless figure. “And what about
Cowgill shook his head. “Can’t tell you more than you know, except that Joanne and Gary are bit players in this particular theatrical production. Let’s say the play can’t go on without them, but we’re after the producer.”
The image did not impress Lois, who lost her temper. “It’s not a bloody game!” she shouted at Cowgill. “Derek is furious with me, and my kids are in danger. The cops are supposed to protect us, aren’t they? And you’re a bloody cop, aren’t you?”
Cowgill held up his hand in self-defence. “Lois, calm down,” he said. “If I thought your kids were in serious danger, I’d do something. But take it from me, that approach in the club was probably routine. Joanne Murphy may not even have known Josie was your daughter. No, it’ll be much more dangerous if we don’t get to the heart of all this, and you can help. You
With one last look at the sagging corpse, Lois stumbled her way back to the car, and drove carefully out of the woods and on to the road. But instead of continuing to see her mother, she turned back towards Long Farnden. She needed to be by her telephone, ready to take the inevitable call. She didn’t know whether it would be Bridie or Hazel, but they would be needing her, nothing surer than that. After all, however much you hate your father – or husband – it’ll be a great shock to hear he has been found dead, tied to a tree, with a knife stuck into his heart.
? Terror on Tuesday ?
Twenty
Hazel and Bridie Reading sat in Lois’s kitchen, mugs of tea in front of them, and the talking had finally stopped. Yesterday had been a nightmare for them, and for Lois, too. But now the police had gone for the moment, and the two Readings had come over to Long Farnden to be with the person they trusted most.
Lois had felt this keenly, since she was not able to be straight with them. She could not tell them she had been in the woods, or that she had found Dick’s body. She had to keep secret that she knew the inspector in charge, and that she was more than interested in that other death. As she sat quietly at the table, waiting until they wanted to talk some more, she reflected that both victims had been men variously disliked. The major had had no real friends in Waltonby, and she knew that both Hazel and Gary were contemptuous whenever his name was mentioned. She knew that Dick Reading was tolerated at work only because he was very good at it. He had no friends there, and none in the village. News of unhappy marriages is soon common knowledge, and the whole of Waltonby knew of Bridie Reading’s tribulations. Not that anybody but Lois had tried to help. Still, Lois was the first to admit that Bridie was her own worst enemy. She would do nothing about Dick’s violence, refused to talk about it to anyone but Lois, and repeatedly made her promise not to pass it on, saying she would be the one to suffer.
Lois’s thoughts wandered on. Dick Reading had often cursed the major, threatening all kinds of retribution if any kind of approach should be made to his own daughter. Had some unknown person revenged the major? She shook her head, and Hazel looked at her curiously. “It’s really nice of you to ask us over,” she said. “But I expect you’ll be wanting to get on. It’s just that…” She dried up, all her customary bravado gone.
Bridie helped her out. “We just needed to tell you, Lois, that if we’re not wanted to help the police, we’d like to carry on working.”
“Oh, Bridie, I don’t expect that!” said Lois at once. “For goodness sake, there’ll be loads of things to do, and you’ll both still be in shock. No, no…we’ll manage somehow.”
“You can’t,” said Hazel baldly. “Not at this early stage in New Brooms. Not enough staff, and you can’t get replacements in time. No, Mrs M, we’ll keep going, if you don’t mind. It’ll be a help. Me and Mum have decided, if it’s OK with you.”
Lois looked at their pale faces and wondered what else she could do. She had lost count of the number of times she’d wished Dick Reading was out of the way for good, times when Bridie’s face had been purple with bruises, and Hazel a frightened little girl hiding in her room. But not dead. She’d never wished him dead, though she knew she could not mourn for him. Somebody had made sure he was dead, though, and Lois knew that whatever Derek said, she had to do all she could to help clear up the mess. Whoever had murdered Dick Reading had done his wife and daughter no favours.
¦
In a grubby bedroom on the Churchill Estate in Tresham, Joanne Murphy lay stretched out on her bed, blowing smoke rings up to the ceiling. Her eyes were half-closed and a jangle of angry music came from a radio beside her. She did not hear the footsteps coming along the landing, and sat up with a start as the bedroom door opened.
“Tony?” A burly man stood smiling at her. “Fancy a Chinese?” he said. “Sort of celebration, you could say?”
“Later, maybe,” said Joanne, stubbing out her cigarette. “Now come ‘ere, you great idiot, and let’s ‘ave a celebration right away.”
It was some time later that Joanne and Tony perfunctorily tidied the bedroom, checked that the kid was at her grandmother’s as usual, and took the big black car with darkened windows into town. “First stop the theatre?” said Tony.
Joanne looked at him. An unlikely member of a theatre audience, she thought. Huge shoulders, no neck and a
