And since you won’t let us into the house, I’m taking her home.’
He thought for a moment and clearly decided that it was better to let her go home than into Bill’s house. But he wasn’t keen.
‘All right, sir,’ he said at last. ‘But I need your name and a telephone number where Miss Burns can be reached.’
I gave him my name and my mobile number and drove away. Just in time, too. As we went down the road, a convoy of police cars passed us going the other way. Violent death had roused a posse from their beds.
Juliet’s home was one of four identical little cottages standing in a line right up against the Baydon road on the south-western edge of Lambourn.
‘Number 2,’ she mumbled.
‘Give me your key,’ I said.
‘It’s under a stone in the window box,’ she said. ‘No pockets in my jodhpurs so I leave it there when I go to work.’
‘You should put it on a string round your neck,’ I said.
‘Tried that but I still lost it. String broke.’
Use stronger string, dear Liza, dear Liza. But I didn’t say so.
I helped her out of the car, found the key, and took her in.
Juliet went upstairs to lie down while I made her a strong sweet cup of tea in her tiny kitchen. I took it up and sat on the edge of her bed as she drank it. She seemed to have recovered somewhat and the tea helped further.
‘Why would he
‘Juliet,’ I said, ‘lie down. You don’t have to be at work today.’
‘But who will look after the horses?’
‘I’m sure Fred will work out that the horses need to be fed and watered but they won’t be going out this morning. They’ll survive without you for a while. You are staying here and that’s an order.’
I picked up her jacket from where she had dropped it on the floor and went to hang it in the wardrobe.
‘That’s OK,’ she said. ‘Leave it on the bed, I’ll do it.’
‘It’s no problem.’
I opened the wardrobe and found some space for the jacket. Juliet always gave such an impression of being an out-and-out tom-boy that I was surprised to find that she had a row of dresses hanging there, many in their designer-named plastic covers. There was also a line of fancy shoes with colours to match the dresses. In a funny sort of way, I was pleased to glimpse her feminine side. I closed the wardrobe without comment and sat down on the bed.
‘Juliet,’ I said, ‘I’ll go back to the yard and sort out any problems that Fred has with the horses. I think you should rest here as long as you can. The police will be down to see you soon enough.’
‘Thanks, Sid.’
I drove back to Bill’s place, not to the main drive but round the back, to the far end of the stables. I hopped out and went into the yard to find Fred. He was there looking slightly agitated, checking his watch. It was already ten minutes after the allotted time for the horses to go out and there was still no sign of Bill or Juliet.
‘Fred, hello,’ I called to him.
‘Oh, Mr Halley, good morning,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry but Mr Burton and Miss Juliet aren’t here yet. I can’t understand it — they should have been here about half an hour ago, at least.’
‘They won’t be coming, Fred,’ I replied. ‘The horses aren’t going out this morning. Tell the lads to remove the tack and leave them in their boxes. Give them some hay and water.’
‘But surely — ’
‘Just do it, Fred, please.’
He wasn’t sure and kept glancing towards the gate through which he still expected Bill to appear at any second.
‘There’s been a bit of a disaster,’ I went on. ‘Death in the family. The police are in the house with Mr Burton. Just tell the lads that the horses are not going out this morning. No need to tell them why.’
They would know soon enough. It wasn’t only Juliet who would need to find a new job.
‘Right,’ he said.
I left him to it and went back to my car. There was a task I had to perform before I went into the house to see the police, and it was something I was not looking forward to.
I drove out of Lambourn on the Wantage road and turned into the drive of Kate’s parents’ house. They had moved here five years ago when Kate’s father had retired and Bill had taken over the stables. But Arthur Rogers had enjoyed his retirement for only a few weeks before being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and he had survived for barely two months after that. Daphne, his widow, now lived here alone and was one of the
I stopped in front of the house and wondered if anyone would be up yet. I pushed the bell and heard a reassuring faint ringing somewhere deep inside. Daphne was indeed up but still in her dressing gown as she opened the door.
‘Good morning, Sid,’ she said with a smile. ‘What brings you here this early?’
‘Morning, Daphne,’ I said, returning the smile. ‘Is Kate here?’
‘Why?’ The smile disappeared.
‘I have to see her.’
‘Did Bill send you?’ she asked. ‘I always said that Kate shouldn’t have married that man. He’s brought disgrace on this family. Race fixing, indeed!’
Murder, it seemed, was acceptable.
‘Is she here?’ I asked again.
‘Maybe she is, and maybe she isn’t. Why do you have to see her?’
‘Look, Daphne, it’s important. Something’s happened to Bill.’
‘Something else? What’s he done now?’
‘Is Kate here?’ I asked again in a more forceful tone.
‘She’s asleep. In the spare room.’
‘Are the children with her?’ I asked.
‘No. They’re in the attic rooms,’ she said. ‘Shall I go and wake them?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘leave the children. Let me go and wake Kate.’
She looked at me quizzically but made no objection as I went past her into the house and up the stairs.
‘It’s the room at the front,’ she called after me, ‘over the front door.’
I knocked gently on the door and opened it a little.
‘Is that you, Mum?’ said Kate sleepily from inside. ‘Who was that at the door?’
‘Kate,’ I said, speaking through the crack. ‘It’s Sid Halley. Can I come in?’
‘Sid! What are you doing here? Did Bill send you?’
‘Yes, Bill sent me. Can I come in?’
‘Just a minute.’ I heard her get up and open the wardrobe door. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Come in.’
She was wearing a tweed overcoat and pink slippers.
‘Sorry,’ she said with a laugh, ‘I haven’t got a dressing gown with me.’ She looked tired and her eyes were red from too much crying. ‘Where’s Bill?’ she asked.
‘At home.’
‘What are you doing here, then? I told Bill I’d be back by ten.’
‘When?’
‘When what?’
‘When did you tell Bill you’d be back by ten?’
‘Last night. Look, Sid, what’s all this about?’ She was beginning to be alarmed. ‘Is Bill all right?’
‘No, Kate,’ I said, ‘I’m afraid he’s not.’
‘Oh my God! What’s happened? Where is he?’
‘Kate, I’m afraid Bill’s dead.’ There was no easy way.
