‘I presume so. It looks as though he’s trying to tell us something.’ The man was signalling as if he wanted Cooper to go to the left. There was nowhere to turn off the drive, except into the bushes, so he skirted as close as he could to the edge.
‘Maybe there’s a pothole or something. I can’t see for this long grass.’
But it wasn’t a pothole. As they drew closer to the gesticulating figure, Cooper could see the decomposing body of a sheep lying on the driveway, its clean-pecked ribcage showing clearly through ragged tufts of wool.
Cooper wound down the window. ‘Mr Casey?’
249
‘Yes. Sorry about that. I didn’t want you to do what I did - I’m afraid I ran over the animal’s head before I’d noticed it.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll not be charging you with anything. We can see the injuries were inflicted postmortem.’
Casey laughed nervously. ‘I don’t know how long it’s been lying there. It’s rather embarrassing, really. We’re supposed to be keeping an eye on the place and sorting out any problems, in case a prospective purchaser comes along. But we’ve been rather short-staffed, you see, and the place hasn’t been checked as often as it should.’
Cooper looked at the sheep again. He could see the remains of the crushed skull where Casey’s tyre had gone over it. But the animal was almost completely skeletonized, and the fleshless jaw bones and teeth grinned back at him knowingly. No one had checked here for months. Or, if they had, they hadn’t bothered to move the dead sheep. He could understand how that wouldn’t be too enticing for a buyer with a couple of million pounds in his pocket, looking for a smart country retreat.
‘Are there sheep grazing in the grounds of the hall, then?’ he said.
‘There aren’t supposed to be,’ said Casey. ‘This one probably belongs to a neighbouring farmer.’
‘Your fences must need some attention, then.’
‘The boundaries are stone wall mostly. But they’re rather old. I’ll have to get someone to check the wooded areas to see if there’s a collapse.’
‘That would be a good idea, sir.’
‘Come on up to the house anyway. The rest of the drive is OK.’
Cooper eased the Toyota over the last few yards of weed covered gravel and parked next to a black Range Rover near the front entrance to the hall. Casey walked up behind them, sorting a ring of keys from his pocket.
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‘I hope the house is more secure than the rest of the property, Mr Casey,’ said Fry when they’d introduced themselves. ‘Or are we likely to find sheep grazing in the reception rooms?’
‘No, no. I assure you, Sergeant, it’s perfectly secure.’
But Casey didn’t look entirely certain of that. And no wonder, if the property hadn’t been checked for a while. The decomposed sheep had been a bad omen. Cooper could imagine some of the scenarios now going through Casey’s mind. He’d be picturing himself opening the front door of the hall and confronting the unmistakable signs of large-scale theft or vandalism.
The front elevation of the hall itself wasn’t particularly impressive. It was built of limestone blocks, with sandstone corners and lintels in the local style. Its eighteenth-century mullions were its most attractive feature, but a jumble of awkward gables, mock battlements and nineteenth-century alterations had destroyed any symmetry it might once have had. Cooper could see why the dukes never thought of leaving the grandeur of Chats worth for this.
There was a short flight of steps up to the door. Much of the mortar had disappeared from them, leaving gaps where dirt had collected and moss had darkened the stone. Casey seemed to hesitate before putting the key in the lock.
‘There’s a burglar alarm,’ he said. ‘The keypad is just inside the door.’
‘Presumably you know the code number?’ said Fry.
‘Of course.’
Cooper looked up at the yellow box tucked into an angle of wall formed by the addition of a Georgian wing.
‘Who would have set the alarm last?’ he asked.
‘Whoever had the task of checking inside the house,’ said Casey. ‘We’re supposed to inspect the property at least once a month, unless the weather has been particularly bad, in which event we’ll come down to see if there’s any structural damage.’
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Casey looked a little embarrassed as he waited for Cooper to ask him when the last inspection had been, in view of the company’s staff shortages. In- fact, Cooper didn’t need to say anything. As Casey put the key into the lock, he answered the unspoken question.
‘I’d have to look at the records back at the office,’ he said, ‘if you need details of previous visits.’
‘We’ll let you know, sir.’
Casey held the door open, and looked relieved when an electronic beeping started. Cooper realized that an even worse scenario might have occurred to the agent - the possibility that a member of his staff had forgotten to re-set the alarm.
‘How many people have access to the alarm code?’ asked Fry.
Casey clicked the cover of the keypad closed. ‘We’re not a big company. Half a dozen, at most.’
‘We might need their names.’
‘Yes, anything you like.’
The agent flicked a switch, and lights came on. Thank goodness Casey’s company was at least remembering to pay the electricity bill.
Cooper turned slowly. The hallway wasn’t large for a house this size, but the stone-flagged floor gave it a cold feeling. It also explained the way their voices had begun to echo from the moment they stepped over the threshold.
