Indian Summer (22 page)

They went into the small office used by all the PT Instructors, and Jo closed the door before flopping in the swivel chair with a groan.

‘It seemed a delicious joke at the time. Still did, until you came along. Of course, I know about the corporal being drowned in the water tank. Or strangled. There's so many yarns going around about it. I never expected to be
connected
with it. It's just too way out. I didn't
know
the guy, never met him or his family. I have little to do with the regiments. I work with Headquarter Company. Have done the whole time I've been here. Believe me, it was pure coincidence that I was riding through the base around the time he was murdered,' she protested. Then she had an idea. ‘The witness who saw a knight; it could have been Pete. He was wearing the full jousting gear too.'

‘You think
he
could have killed Keane?'

‘No! You're putting meaning to my words that isn't there.' She leaned forward with sudden urgency. ‘Here's something interesting, though. Pete had already taken Norval when I reached the stables, which means
two
animals would have been led out while Mel was chatting to Staff Fuller about the races. How could she have failed to notice
that
?'

Heather sat on an upright chair facing her. ‘I've not seen the stables, so I can't answer that. I'll repeat my earlier question. How well do you know her?'

‘As well as I know most people I pass in the Mess, or occasionally sit next to for meals. She's with I Corps.' She gave a twisted smile. ‘Everyone knows brain rarely mixes with brawn.'

‘She's snooty?' probed Heather.

‘No, not that. She's just not really one of the girls.'

‘One of the boys?'

‘Even less so, I'd say. They call her the Ice Maiden.'

‘She's a loner?'

‘Not exactly. She mixes well enough, but doesn't cultivate close friends. She's on easy terms with Sheila Fuller because of their mutual passion for horses, and there's apparently some kind of distant relative in the REs, but apart from them she keeps her own company. The story goes that seven days before her wedding her fiancé died. She took it hard and has never recovered from the loss. I heard she was hopelessly smitten, which makes nonsense of the Ice Maiden tag, doesn't it?'

‘How long ago was this?'

‘A couple of years, according to camp gossip.'

‘I didn't get the impression she was suffering from long-term grief, but perhaps she's the sort who can hide their feelings and concentrate on their work. Although you normally have little contact with her you probably saw more of her in the run-up to the Open Day. Planning discussions, rehearsals. How did she strike you at those meetings?'

‘Strike me?' Jo seemed puzzled by the question. ‘God, I don't know. I perhaps got the impression that her heart wasn't really in it. She'd been co-opted by Fuller, who's highly competitive against the men, but Mel's no feminist.'

‘You sensed that she was reluctant to compete?'

Jo shook her head, frowning. ‘Now I come to think more deeply about it, I'd say she was abstracted. Certainly not entering into the spirit of the occasion like the rest of us.' She glanced across at Heather. ‘Maybe she
is
suffering from long-term grief, which comes to the fore when she's not working.'

Leaving the gymnasium in a dissatisfied mood Heather knew she had been given information she had not wanted to hear. So certain was she that Mel Dunstan had been the midnight knight, she was now faced with evidence that the rider had been one of two people who must now be regarded with more suspicion than the I Corps officer.

Before returning to Headquarters and her computer, she drove to the dog compounds near the surgery of the Veterinary Officer. On meeting this blond, upper-crust man for the first time, she fully appreciated Jo's description of him as a cocky individual. Captain Peter Saunders made the difference in their ranks very clear by addressing Heather by hers throughout, and said with a hint of arrogance that he had been very well aware of the identity of his opponent when he received the anonymous challenge.

‘It's just the sort of thing she would do,' he explained. ‘Has her head in the clouds much of the time. Reads romantic slush set in the Middle Ages,' he added, with a smile designed to indicate that what he read was far more erudite.

‘But you nevertheless turned up at the Sports Ground to meet her challenge . . . at midnight,' responded Heather with faint emphasis on
midnight
to suggest surprise. ‘Wasn't that also somewhat fanciful?'

His smile vanished. ‘What is the point of your visit, Sergeant? I'm a very busy man. My only assistant is off sick.'

‘The point of my visit, sir, is to check on your movements just before and after falling from your horse during the joust. We're investigating the murder of Corporal Keane,
RCR
, whose body was discovered in the water tank just after midnight on Saturday. You happen to be one of several people moving around the base at that hour.'

‘Mmm, I heard you were totally stymied on that,' he said with a touch of condescension. ‘I can't oblige, I'm afraid. Before I took part in that ridiculous business I was fetching Norval from the stables and fitting myself out in style. As I rode off I did spot Lieutenant Dunstan's car drawing up outside the stables. She would have seen my Range Rover parked there. Ask her. She'll confirm it.'

Something else Mel Dunstan had apparently not seen, or felt was not important enough to offer as evidence, thought Heather. ‘And after you'd been defeated in the joust, sir?'

He looked daggers at her. ‘Norval was startled and unseated me, that was all. He's highly bred and nervous. He reared in fright when he saw Captain Meredith's gelding charging towards him bearing a rider wearing strange gear. If you have any knowledge of horses you'll understand that, Sergeant.'

‘I prefer dogs, sir. When you rode back to the stables, presumably not alongside Second Lieutenant Carstairs, was your visor up or down?'

‘Up, naturally. How else would I have seen where I was going? Sergeant Johnson, I did
not
drop a body in the water tank in passing. Neither, I can say with certainty, did Second Lieutenant Carstairs. She rode ahead of me all the way, and I saw her dismount and take Pennycuik to his stall. I then continued to this surgery where I tethered Norval, removed the hauberk and tabard, drank two cups of tea before returning to the stables. They were deserted by then. It was one thirty.

Feeling happier because she believed what this rather shallow man had told her, Heather then asked if he had seen anyone else moving around the base during that period.'

‘Only Lieutenant Dunstan parking her car outside the Mess.'

‘At one thirty' she asked eagerly.

‘Earlier. When I was riding here to the surgery to change my clothes. Presumably she was returning from her visit to the stables that I spotted an hour or so before.' He added in the manner of an adult to an over-eager child, ‘Don't read anything into that. She frequently goes there before turning in, to check on Jetset. A horse is a greater responsibility than a dog, Sergeant. Now I must shoo you away. I have two small operations listed for this afternoon.'

After Piercey gladly offloaded the pugnacious Walpole at a small guesthouse in town, he drove back to Headquarters. The sole occupant of the Incident Room was Reg Prentiss, whose wife had given birth to an eleven-pound boy after a difficult labour. His parents-in-law had arrived to take charge, so Reg was seeking refuge by voluntarily manning the SIB emergency line. He looked half asleep, so Piercey made coffee and took him some.

‘Anything?' he asked the new father.

‘Just Captain Goodey wanting the Boss. Said he's not picking up his mobile, and she needs to make contact.'

Piercey glanced at the clock. ‘In another hour they'll both go home, then she can walk next door and talk to him live.' He grinned. ‘Unless he's taken leave after all, because his popsie said sorry and gave him the come-on.'

‘Oh? Have I missed out on a bit of scandal?'

Piercey walked to his own desk, laughing gaily. ‘You've missed out on something far bigger than that, Reg, believe me. While you've been changing nappies and crooning lullabies, I've cracked a big one single-handed.'

‘This jellyfish murder?' asked Prentiss in amazement.

‘Keep those ears flapping, Daddy-o, and you'll hear all about it tomorrow.' He booted-up his computer and was soon so engrossed he did not hear his colleague's snoring. As he worked his smile grew broader and broader.

After dropping off Tom, Max had gone to a small inn not far from the base with the intention of having a decent lunch, but after looking at the menu he realized he wanted nothing more than a bowl of soup. The meeting with Brenda had eliminated someone who he had considered to be a strong suspect in the Keane case. It was frustrating and left the investigation wide open. The Dunstan woman was Heather's long shot, that was all. They had no evidence against her.

He had not been with the case from the moment of discovery of the body, but he was desperate to solve it. Success in that direction would soften the sense of personal failure that was dogging him. He needed to be seen as a man in control of his life; professionally on the ball and one step ahead of the team he commanded. He had told Tom to take the afternoon off because he needed to be alone for a spell.

After finishing the soup, he took a walk along a path that wound through sparse woodland, bludgeoning his brain to make sense of all the data the team had accumulated. Odd facts added up, but none made an illuminating total. There was either a missing factor that would make immediate sense of it all, or the killing could be logged as momentary madness by someone recently returned from the warzone who had imagined Keane to be the enemy. If that was the case, the investigation could continue for weeks and might never be successfully solved.

With that thought adding further frustration, Max walked back to his car with the intention of pursuing the one aspect of the case he was determined to probe. It would not bring a solution, but rooting out the truth would bring partial balm to his bruised pride.

Returning to base, Max managed to track down Ben Steele doing a number of lengths in the swimming pool. He was very happy to abandon the exercise and talk. Draping a towel around his shoulders, he confessed that swimming was not his favourite pastime.

‘I finally completed the paperwork following our return, so I'm off to the
UK
tomorrow,' he said with a grin. ‘My mother's laid on a couple of family parties, and so has my girlfriend's aunt. Add some general celebrating with friends, and it seemed wise to shed a few pounds before the heavy intake over the next few weeks. Have you news for me regarding Flip Keane's death?'

Max shook his head. ‘Sorry, no. I just want to check some facts with you. Can we go where our voices don't echo and there's no smell of chlorine? We can't talk against the noise of these swimmers. It's a confidential matter.'

‘Can it wait for me to shower and dress?'

‘Yes, if you're happy to pack in the swimming, Ben. I'll sit in my car. Join me when you're ready.'

Max felt a pang of envy when Ben emerged and crossed to where he was waiting. Young and fit, with an engaging manner, Ben was going home to a waiting girlfriend and a series of parties. Lucky man!

‘You're welcome to tea and choc digestives in my room,' he said bending to the window. ‘That's what I usually have after a swim.'

‘Hop in,' said Max. ‘I won't keep you long away from them.'

When Ben was seated beside him, he said, ‘I'd like you to tell me about that night patrol in Iraq, when Keane believed he had shot one of ours and you were all held incommunicado. In detail, please, and I'd like the names of every member of that patrol.'

Ben looked anxious. ‘It hasn't resurfaced, has it? I understood we'd been cleared of blame.'

‘You have. It's been mentioned several times in relation to Keane's recent state of mind, that's all. Just remind me of the facts.'

It was clear that Ben was now unhappy about repeating what he had willingly told Max earlier, and even more unhappy about giving the names of his men who had shared the experience. As the leader of the patrol he could have been branded irresponsible, unable to control those under his command. Max vowed to reassure him when he finished speaking, but before he could do so Ben's mobile rang. The young captain listened with a deepening frown, then said he would be there shortly.

‘Sorry about the interruption, but you'll probably want to know about this, too. That was the padre to tell me Starr Keane's family have arrived there from the mortuary. He thinks I should talk to them as Flip's Company Commander, because they're demanding the children and won't accept that he has the authority to deny them. I'll have to get him off the hook.'

As he scrambled from the car Max thought Ben looked as though he felt he had also been let off the hook. After a few minutes of reflection, he drove to Frank Priest's quarter in the hope of finding him at home. He was lucky, but only just. He was packing his car with cases and bags for a trip to Spain, starting in an hour. The sergeant major took Max to a small room at the back of the house and seemed disturbed when he learned the reason for the visit.

‘I wasn't on the patrol, sir, so I can't give you any info other than what I knew was going on when they were all locked away for questioning.'

‘Just tell me what you know about the affair,' said Max, who then once more heard about something that officially never happened. The facts were just as Ben had related fifteen minutes ago.

Leaving the Priests to get under way, Max sat in his car for a further spell of reflection. Ben Steele, Frank Priest, Ryan Moore, Brenda; all these people had spoken of an aborted night patrol that had badly undermined Keane's confidence as a fighting man. Ben, Priest and Ryan Moore
could
have got together to invent that patrol, but not Brenda. She had been well out of their orbit for two years, so there was some military or political aspect of the affair that had to be hushed up. Had Keane been killed because he had managed to uncover the truth? Brushing aside his earlier conviction that the murder had a sexual motive, Max now grew convinced of this new slant and set about following it up.