do something now.’
Lol squeezed her hand, as if to show he still could.
‘Start by telling James.’
‘About the possible re-emergence of an ancient Roman pagan cult and the possible involvement of a retired SAS trooper in the theft of a bull?’
‘We both know what you can tell him.’
‘Lol, I hardly like even to mention it out loud.’
‘You mean bull?’ Lol said. ‘ Mansel Bull?’
Merrily put on her sunglasses and started up the car.
‘Thanks for saying it first.’
‘Watch much TV, Carly?’
Carly looked up, ebony hair still slanted defiantly across one eye.
Bliss said, ‘Bet you’ve seen all them women’s-prison reality shows. Could be worse inside, couldn’t it? Get to wear your own clothes, have yer hair done, decorate the cell.’
‘Think you’re scaring me?’ Carly said.
‘Of course they’re a bit misleading, them shows. They only talk to the mouthy prisoners, the ones who’re a bit of a laugh. And speak English. No point in following one of the many smouldering, resentful East European ladies on Her Maj’s guest list.’
‘I fear you’re sailing perilously close to racist shores, Inspector,’ Mr Ryan Nye said.
Everyone’s favourite duty solicitor, all glossy black hair and geek specs. Interesting how the smarmy twat was always first out of bed for something newsworthy.
Bliss shook his head.
‘You know me better than that, Mr Nye. I’m just thinking how aggrieved certain migrant ladies in the slammer might feel at having to share a landing with someone who set up two of their innocent compatriots to get murdered.’
‘Innocent, bollocks!’
Carly halfway out of her chair. Bliss smiled.
‘Had it coming, did they? Look, Carly, I’m just giving yer a chance to make things easier all round. We’ll have the DNA matches up soon, and that’ll be that. Though I think it’s only fair to tell you that poor little Joss has already seen the light.’
Ryan Nye looking at him, trying to work out if he was lying. Bliss just looked sad.
‘It was that ugly scratch just below the left shoulder blade that did it. No wonder she was wearing a high- necked sweater. You got any scratches anywhere, Carly? We can get yer a plaster and a dab of Germolene. Should I summon a doctor and a nice police lady to hold your clothes?’
‘I never…’ Carly wrapped her arms around her chest. ‘You listening? You won’t find no DNA ’cause I never touched either of them women.’
‘Could be you never did, Carly, but that doesn’t make a lorra difference nowadays. Whether or not you struck any of the fatal blows, you still helped engineer a double murder. The courts draw few distinctions any more. You were involved, kid.’
Bliss paused, the flat of a forefinger angled thoughtfully under his bottom lip.
‘Now, it could be you didn’t realize it would get that far. If you were able to convince us of that, it might help you no end. Though pairsonally, Carly, I’d find it hard to credit, ’cause your attitude so far has been unremittingly cocky with norra hint of remorse. The attitude, in fact, of someone who feels the world can only be a better place without the likes of Maria and Ileana Marinescu. Someone almost proud of her-’
‘No!’
‘ Yes.’
Carly said nothing. Bliss was also silent for a while. Coming on like he was thinking something out. Giving it nearly half a minute before he said, ‘How well do you know Victoria Buckland, Carly?’
Now was that a little shudder?
‘See, we know Victoria of old, and she’s gorra hell of a talent for self-preservation. The very last person to put both hands up and say, No, no, it’s all down to me, officer, those kids had nothing to do with the actual violence, I’m a grown woman, me, and there’s no way I’d let young girls take the rap for smashing anybody’s-’
‘Inspector…’
‘Mr Nye?’
‘Perhaps we could save some time. May I have a word in private with my client?’
‘Absolutely, Mr Nye,’ Bliss said. ‘I’ll be just outside, if required.’
60
The tin-roofed lean-to that James Bull-Davies called his study overlooked the stable yard. They could see Alison out there forking sodden straw into a barrow. James’s face was stretched, his washed-out eyes mottled with uncertainty.
‘Normal way of things, this makes very little sense, even you must see that.’
‘Normal way of things,’ Merrily said.
She wouldn’t sit down.
‘Never your favourite word, is it, vicar? Normal.’
Out in the yard, Alison tossed the fork into the barrow. She looked tired.
‘I should be doing that,’ James said. ‘Should’ve been done hours ago, but we had to go into town this morning, see a man about an overdraft. Or a woman, as it turned out.’
‘Things are bad?’
‘Recession, still. People don’t want to burden themselves with extra horses, feed bills, vet bills…’
‘It’ll lift.’
‘My lifetime, you think?’ James frowned, watched Alison wheeling the barrow away. ‘Should’ve made William Lockley clear out his own shit.’
‘May not be his to clear,’ Merrily said. ‘Not all of it.’
She felt the ground becoming marshy. She’d left Lol on the square, in search of Danny and Gomer. Feeling obliged to come here alone.
‘And I know my limitations, James.’
He sat down in the hard chair behind an old oak desk stained with cup marks. Drumming his fingers on a worn blotter.
‘SAS are the finest in the world at what they do. Train, train and train again. And, the pressures being commensurate with the rewards of the job, there’s little doubt that some chaps get drawn into odd byways. But the idea of a cult…’
‘In fairness, much of it seems to have developed after they left the Regiment.’
James grimaced, drew in his chin.
‘This Roman army business… you’re suggesting that’s actually in some way become central to the exercises devised by Jones and Mostyn for their clientele?’
‘Think what people pay to go on Buddhist retreats and stay at ashrams. Add to that a powerful physical regime. And the almost mystical glow that surrounds the SAS.’
‘And this includes the ritual slaughter of animals?’
‘I… believe so. For some participants. The ones considered suitable. And discreet. And able to meet the fees.’
‘An elite?’
‘Belonging to an elite has always been very sexy.’
‘And not really a swindle, I’d guess.’
