Folly (6 page)

‘Cathy had said she wanted to see the body,' he told her. ‘Apparently she had some bee in her bonnet that she might know him.'

‘If she isn't a relative, would they let her do that?' Alex asked.

‘It happens if they think it might help them. But she changed her mind, said the idea of the murder had shocked her so much she'd started reliving bad things in her own life. Then she collapsed, poor woman.'

Alex didn't look convinced but neither did she pursue the point. ‘Why did you think I might be staying at my mother's tonight?'

The look in her eyes said she already knew the answer. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. ‘You had a shock. I thought you might want comfort from her.'

‘You think there's a murderer wandering around up here in the hills and I should want to run for safety.'

He shrugged again. Her directness could make him uncomfortable.

‘I'm not a frightened teenager, Tony. I understand the concerns – and I appreciate yours – but I'll be fine.'

‘Is there an alarm system in this house?'

Her neck jerked as she swallowed. ‘No. I don't like them. They go off when they shouldn't and they're a nuisance.'

‘They aren't a nuisance if someone wielding a hatchet is breaking in to …'
Holy hell. And his father wondered why his son had said his bedside manner wasn't suitable for humans.

‘To kill me?' Alex said. ‘I tend to think that all the way up here, even with an alarm, I'd be dead before anyone got here.'

Now he really felt like a heel – and the tightness in his belly was anxiety, for her.

‘You never told me what the police are still looking for.'

This was not a lady who gave up easily. ‘They didn't tell me, but I think I know. Did you notice one of his hands – the ring finger on his right hand?'

Her fingertips went to her lips and she glanced away. ‘It looked as if it was broken. Do they think someone tore off a ring? They do, don't they? There must have been a mark from where it was. I didn't notice. I was too busy being horrified. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that's it.'

‘You and I are thinking the same thing. But you can bet the killer took the ring with him.'

At last, Alex seemed uneasy. ‘That's beastly. At the time I didn't make any connection with a ring, but stealing it from a dead man? How horrid. What could a monk's ring be worth? I suppose it's what you said, some sort of trophy. It makes me sick.'

‘You could stay at the Black Dog, too, if you wanted to.' He disliked the idea of her being here alone and the feeling intensified as each new tidbit crawled out.

‘I'll be fine,' she said, smiling. She hugged Bogie. ‘My new watchdog will take care of me. Dogs are better than alarms. They're faster.'

He wasn't completely surprised by the announcement. Mulling it over, he finally said, ‘The police just seemed to expect me to keep him. But Katie would probably appreciate not having him around tonight. Don't be disappointed if he's wary of you, at least at first.'

‘I'll cook him some vegetables and chicken,' Alex said.

‘Spoiled thing.'

‘He deserves it – he's going to keep me safe.'

For an instant he felt physically sick but he stopped the next words that tried to leave his mouth. Instead he retrieved his coat from behind the couch.

‘Oh, dear.' Alex pulled her shoulders up to her ears and put her cheek against Bogie's head. ‘We know what Tony's thinking. But you would have kept your boss safe if you could.'

A
lex usually turned the central heating down at night. She didn't really need to be parsimonious but old habits stuck around.

Tonight she decided a really warm house would be comforting. Anyway, Bogie needed to be coddled a bit …

She
was nervous and that frosted her. No, it wouldn't be stupid for anyone to be edgy given what had happened so close to this house, but being nervous could warp your judgement. That wouldn't help a thing.

A monk with a ring – possibly a valuable ring.

Weren't they into poverty, simplicity, all those Spartan habits that divested them of worldly things, the luxuries that could distract from their concentration on God?

He probably hadn't been wearing a ring at all. It was just a guess. She didn't want to, but she thought about the finger that had jutted, obviously either broken or dislocated.

The hand was covered with dried blood. There could have been less blood on the finger but she wasn't sure. Taking of a ring would automatically wipe away some blood.

When the phone rang it jolted Alex to her toes.

She saw it was Will Cummings. ‘Alex,' she said into the mouthpiece.

‘Will here. Just want you not to worry about Cathy. She'll be all right. Don't forget the dart match tomorrow evenin'. They like you to give 'em a bit of a cheer on even if you don't stay for the whole thing. What they'd really go for is having you play. They froth at the mouth having the best dart player in the county in residence when she won't play.'

‘Come on, Will. I don't play often enough to be in practice.' She'd started throwing darts as a kid while she waited for Lily to close up in the afternoon, and she had been very good.

‘Maybe you should start practicing again,' Will said. ‘You don't have enough hobbies.'

‘Right.' She sensed there were things about Cathy that he was skirting. ‘What made Cathy think she could identify that man?'

Will didn't answer immediately. He coughed and said, ‘It's sketchy. She thinks some man came by late wanting a drink. Last night, that was. We were closed and she was cleaning up in the bar. She likes to take a last look when everyone's gone.'

‘We don't serve after closing,' Alex said, puzzled.

‘Oh, don't you fret. She didn't serve him but he was a stranger and when she heard about the murder her imagination got carried away.'

‘You mean Cathy thought the person who came to the pub might have been the dead man?'

‘That's about right.'

‘So she got a good look at him?'

Will gave a little laugh that sounded forced. ‘You're startin' to sound like the police, Alex. She was busy trying to finish up. I don't see her taking that much notice of him.'

It was her turn to laugh, awkwardly. ‘I'm too tied up in all this. Can't quite get over it.'

‘That O'Reilly chap made her describe the fella that came. She said he and the other one shook their heads like it didn't sound like the corpse. But she's that upset I don't know if she just imagined it.'

‘You said she was fine,' Alex said, and wished she hadn't.

‘She is. I meant she
was
that upset. Anyway, I'd best be getting back to 'er. It's snowing again. No need to get here early as usual. Wait for help putting on the chains.'

She wished him goodnight and went to look out of the window. The outside lights were off but there was no missing the fat flakes of snow that splattered the windows. At least they were fairly wet. If it didn't get much colder it wouldn't accumulate much.

Tired, but not sleepy, she put the dog down and went to the kitchen. So far she hadn't settled on what, if anything, to do with it. Glass-fronted cabinets, off-white, and solid black and white tiled counters had an old-fashioned family feel. Alex liked that. She had replaced the cracked floor tiles with stone flags.

Pretending not to watch Bogie, she boiled chicken breasts, cooked rice and added some leftover vegetables. When she'd chopped the chicken and stirred everything together, she let it cool while she found a bowl and put water down.

The dog didn't move from his spot by the kitchen door. Starting with a small amount of the food, Alex took the dish to Bogie and wafted it under his nose. With only the slightest hesitation, his bottom came off the floor and he trotted after her to eat everything down in a few bites. He ate another small bowl but she didn't give him more in case it was too much, too soon.

She had eaten little of Tony's sandwich but she wasn't hungry.

Her mother wouldn't call because she made it a rule not to intrude, so Alex made a phone call to Corner Cottage and reassured Lily, who didn't do a perfect job of pretending to be relaxed.

By ten Alex gave up on the evening. She couldn't concentrate on reading. Going to the room upstairs and at the back of the house which she still regarded as her temporary studio didn't appeal. If she couldn't lose herself in her painting she knew she was seriously rattled.

She turned off all the downstairs lights except for the lamp on a table in the hall, and started upstairs, still trying not to watch Bogie too closely. He had gone to the door when he wanted to go out and she'd allowed him, standing outside, arms tightly crossed in the wet snow, and hoped he wouldn't run away. When he came back and ran inside she felt ridiculously satisfied.

He'd lost his owner. A religious man walking through the woods with no way to defend himself and apparently having made no attempt to do so. She could scarcely swallow thinking about the stark sadness of it. Who would do such a thing – who around here? Or had it been someone passing through who'd been shocked by the man and lashed out?

Or had the victim made the gash in his own throat? Was it possible to do that?

A nagging thought echoed back that if a person was desolate enough, and beyond hope of any human comfort – or even his God's comfort – he could do it.

When they had started up the stairs, cold hit Alex's spine in what she thought of as the start of a premonition. The prickling of a thousand pins started climbing until they covered her back and sprayed over her scalp.

She turned around slowly, slowly.

Glass panels flanked the heavy front door with a fanlight above. All the panes in the fanlight were green – not what she would have chosen – and she intended to replace some of them with other colors to warm the light when it came through.

Her scalp contracted even more. Her face felt tight.

The dog had stopped beside her and he, too, stared toward the front of the house. His hackles had risen and his lips were pulled back from his teeth, but he didn't make a sound.

The motion sensors came on and a green glow washed over the hall floor.

She couldn't move, or breathe.

Call the police.

They won't get here in time.

In time for what?

The lights went out. Air rushed from her lungs. There was a wind with the snow. It could easily have blown a fallen limb across a beam and triggered the lights.

‘C'mon,' she said, bobbing down to pat the dog. ‘We're a jumpy pair.'

The sensors came on again. And off again. And on again, and off.

Alex felt sick.

Bogie growled but when she continued up the stairs, running now, he followed her and went with her into her bedroom where she locked the door and struggled to push a chest of drawers in front of it.

Call someone.

If you do there'll be nothing to find and you'll end up looking like a jumpy fool. It'll be all right.

With the phone pulled close and a flashlight beside it, she eventually got into bed. The sound of wind whipping around the corners of the old walls was something she'd come to love. Tonight she hated it.

But the lights stayed off.

Bogie jumped on to the bed and made himself comfortable.

In time Alex drifted, bedeviled by the half-sleeping jolts that sometimes put her into an imaginary free fall that woke her up.

The dog barking, standing on the bed and howling toward the windows, woke her completely. The clock showed it was three in the morning. She had slept after all.

After a few seconds of trying to calm Bogie, she stared at the closed drapes. Closed and illuminated.

This time the motion sensor lights stayed on.

T
he emergency operator kept her on the phone, kept talking. Stopped making sense.

She should stay where she was. Not go outside under any circumstances. A unit was on the way. Was she sure this wasn't a medical emergency? What was she hearing now? Had the lights gone off yet?

The questions went around and around in her head.

‘Have the lights gone off, ma'am?'

‘You ask the same things over and over,' Alex said, hearing her words slur together. ‘The police always ask questions like that – the same questions. The lights are still on. They must be right outside.'

‘Are there sensors at the back of the house?' the operator asked.

‘Why? I mean, yes.'

‘Are those on, too? Are they on the same circuit?'

Alex rubbed at her stinging eyes. The dog jumped up and down and barked. He flew up at the windowsill, then threw himself against the wall, howling.

‘I'm sorry,' Alex said. ‘I'm making a mess of this—'

‘It's OK. It won't be long.'

‘I can't see the back of the house from here but those lights are on the same circuit, yes.'

Barely at first, then steadily louder came the urgent warning from police sirens.

‘They're coming!' Alex tried to straighten her knees, to stand without shaking.

The lights went out.

Alex closed her eyes. ‘Bogie,' she whispered. ‘Come here, boy.'

In an instant the dog's front paws landed on her thighs and Alex dropped to her knees to hold on tight to the warm, wiry body.

When more lights flashed across her closed eyelids she knew the police car had turned down the driveway. And another vehicle came. Doors slammed and pounding came from the front door.

‘They're here,' she said into the phone and dropped it to shove the chest of drawers blocking her bedroom door. She'd only moved it a foot before she unlocked and opened the door enough to squeeze through on to the landing.