The Legacy (12 page)

Chapter 25

Sir James Briggs sat in an old leather armchair next to the fire in his study. His dog was asleep at his feet. Although she was getting on a bit, she still had plenty of life left in her. He'd got her from Battersea Dogs' Home when she was still a puppy. Long legged for a Staffordshire bull terrier, she had the breed's characteristic flat head, powerful shoulders and narrow hips. Indeed, she could look quite menacing when she was agitated, something that always amused him given she had been christened ‘Princess' by the carers at the dogs' home and he'd never quite got round to changing her name. He ruffled the dog's neck and poured himself another glass of whisky. He had nearly finished reading the report that Knowles had given him. He'd had his PA print out the content of the memory stick and then secure it in her safe. He didn't want any of his team looking at it just yet. Briggs was amazed at the depth of the analysis. It was outstanding work and he made a mental note to ask Knowles for the name of the firm of investigators he'd used. Briggs was in no doubt that if everything in the report could be corroborated, then there was a cast iron case that linked Highworth to a whole string of prosecutable offences. If they could bring this to court, then a conviction would be almost inevitable, even with the brightest of defence lawyers and the most inept of juries. Highworth would be looking at a very long time in gaol - indeed, it would be highly likely that, even if he lived to a ripe old age, he would die there. Briggs smiled to himself and then looked down at his dog. ‘Well Princess, what do we do now?'

Chapter 26

Camilla's train arrived at Newton Abbot in the early evening. It was just starting to get dark as she got off and started to walk towards the exit. She could see her friend, Ellie, waiting for her near the ticket office. There were lots of people at the station and it took Ellie a few minutes to spot her friend. When she did, her face lit up and she started to wave. Camilla waved back excitedly, struggling to feed her ticket into the automatic barrier.

‘Hello darling,' said Ellie, wrapping her arms around Camilla in the tightest of hugs. ‘It's so great to see you. You look fantastic.'

‘You always say that. I look like shit and you know it,' replied Camilla laughing. She was pleased to see Ellie. They had been great friends since art school. They'd shared a flat together in London for a few years after they had graduated and until Ellie, tired of city living, had returned to Dartmoor where she'd grown up. It was a brave move for an aspiring artist but she'd applied for a job as an art teacher at one of the private schools in Exeter and, to her surprise and despite the stiff competition, she'd got it.

‘How's it going?' asked Camilla, linking her arm through Ellie's as they walked towards Ellie's old Land Rover.

‘Really well,' replied Ellie. ‘I'm selling more of my work, which is clearly good, the house is taking shape and my love life has improved significantly since I last saw you.'

‘Go on,' encouraged Camilla. Ellie kept her sexuality reasonably quiet. She didn't deny it but she didn't advertise it either. She wasn't ashamed of being gay - indeed, she was proud of it - but she knew from personal experience that, however open minded they might claim to be, some teachers, particularly in girls' schools, could be extremely old fashioned in their views. Camilla understood this but suspected that her low profile hadn't helped her friend find a suitable partner.

‘She's called Sarah and she's an English teacher at a school near Ashburton. We're taking it slowly but I think this time it might be serious. She moved in with me about a year ago and, so far, it's working out really well.' Ellie paused for breath. ‘You'll like her. She's bright, fun and deeply spiritual. In fact, you'd probably describe her as a bit of a hippy. As you can imagine, we fit right in in Ashburton!'

Camilla laughed. She knew Ashburton well. One of the so called ‘gateways to the moor', it was a picturesque little town. It nestled in the foot of a valley that led onto the moor and up towards Hay Tor, probably Datrmoor's most famous landmark. Climbing to the top of the Tor was something of a ritual for Camilla whenever she came to Dartmoor and she was determined that this visit would be no different, regardless of the circumstances.

Ellie took Camilla's bag and, opening the boot of her Land Rover, put it behind the back seat. It was an old long wheelbase Defender model, similar to the ones that the British Army used to use. She'd bought it when she first moved back to Dartmoor and, though it was expensive to run, it came into its own in winter. The girls climbed in and Ellie started the engine, flicked on the lights and, leaving the station car park, pulled onto the main road towards Ashburton. Neither Ellie nor Camilla saw the rental car pull out of the car park behind them and follow them as they headed out of Newton Abbot.

‘So how long before the house is finished?' asked Camilla.

‘Probably the rest of my life at this rate,' answered Ellie. ‘Everything seems to cost more than I expected and this has slowed progress but you'll notice a difference. Two of the bedrooms are finished and they fitted the Aga in the kitchen a couple of months ago. They've also just installed the wood burner in the sitting room so we have heat at last!'

‘I admire you Ellie,' said Camilla with genuine respect. ‘You've set your sights on something and you're determined to get there.'

‘Yes but I'd get there a bit quicker if more people bought a few more of my paintings,' said Ellie humorously. ‘But there's a new gallery opened up in Bovey Tracy and they've agreed to exhibit some of my work next month. If it sells, then there's the real possibility of a regular contract. I've also persuaded the landlord at the Ring O'Bells in North Bovey to put some of my paintings in the bar. That's working out quite well. The village has changed over the years and a lot of the houses have been bought by the London set as second homes. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not for the community but it's good for me as they seem to like having paintings of Dartmoor in their London homes. I suppose they're a talking point.'

Camilla looked through the window as they passed through Ashburton and started to climb onto the moor. It was pitch black outside and starting to rain. She was glad that she was here with Ellie. Her friend's warmth and obvious pleasure at seeing her had restored her spirits.

‘So tell me what happened, Camilla, with Peter Fairweather. I didn't press you on the phone because I could tell that you were mega stressed but, now that you're here, it would be nice to know what's going on.' Ellie looked across at her friend. ‘You don't have to if you don't want to. We can just not talk about it if it's easier you know.'

‘No,' said Camilla, ‘I've imposed myself on you and I owe you an explanation.' Camilla then proceeded to tell Ellie everything that had happened to her.

‘Wow, Camilla,' said Ellie. ‘That's quite a story. Do you think he was murdered?'

Camilla didn't answer immediately. ‘I didn't at first but odd things have been happening over the last few days and I'm beginning to wonder. What scares me is that if he was murdered, then whoever did it must have been in the house and must have seen me. I was asleep and I didn't see or hear anything but they might not know that. That's one reason why I haven't been too pushy with the police. If there is anything dodgy going on, then the last thing I want is for the police to start agitating and for them to announce that they're investigating what now appear to be the suspicious circumstances surrounding Fairweather's death. I can't think of a surer way of getting me killed.'

‘When you put it like that, I can see what you mean,' said Ellie. ‘We're nearly there. You'll see the village lights when we go round the next bend and down towards the river.'

Camilla could make out lights on the hillside ahead as they rounded the bend. Ellie was a capable driver and knew the roads well but she slowed to walking pace as they crossed the stone bridge over the river below the village.

‘It's really beautiful here isn't it,' said Camilla.

‘Yes, that's why I refuse to leave. This is my “forever place”,' said Ellie as they entered the village.

They drove up the hill and past the village green. The pub looked to be busy. They could make out figures in the bar and one or two dogs fastened up outside the main door.

‘I'll take you for a drink later if you like. But first you need to eat,' said Ellie as she pulled up in front of her house.

Ellie jumped out of the car and grabbed Camilla's bag from the back. ‘Come on,' she said, ‘I want you to meet Sarah.'

Camilla was nervous about meeting Ellie's partner. Ellie knew her friend well enough to recognise her apprehension. ‘Don't worry, she won't bite,' she said, grabbing Camilla's hand and dragging her towards the front door.

The door opened before they reached it. ‘Come on in,' said a blonde girl holding the door open for them. ‘I'm Sarah. Welcome to our home.'

‘Hi,' said Camilla, introducing herself. ‘I've heard a lot about you.'

‘I bet,' replied Sarah, smiling and welcoming the returning Ellie with a kiss. ‘All good I hope. What will you drink? We have wine, beer or, if you prefer, we can even run to spirits.'

Camilla gratefully accepted a glass of red wine and looked around the room. She also tried to look at Sarah without being too obvious. Camilla guessed that she was about her own age, late twenties or early thirties. Strikingly pretty in a wholesome, Scandinavian sort of way, she wore her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her round tortoise shell glasses gave her an academic look that seemed slightly at odds with the outsize lumberjack shirt and tight faded Levis that she wore.

‘What an amazing transformation,' said Camilla. ‘The house looks great.' Though she didn't say it, she also thought that Sarah looked great.

‘Thank you,' said Ellie. ‘There's still a lot to do but it's getting there.'

The kitchen was huge and extended nearly the whole length of the barn. The working area was at one end and focused around the very large reconditioned Aga that Ellie had mentioned in the car. In the middle of the room was an old refectory dining table with bench seats either side. At the far end, an old sofa and two armchairs were arranged around a cast iron wood burner. Camilla noticed a small brown and white Jack Russell dozing in a basket, clearly enjoying the heat of the wood burner. Bookshelves ran the entire length of the walls. Most were full to capacity but one or two of the shelves had been cleared of books and held an odd assortment of quirky ornaments. Rugs covered the stone floor in the seating area and under the dining table. The room was warm and cosy. It had the natural shabby chic look that many of her London friends desperately tried to recreate in their town houses, normally without success.

‘You must be knackered, come and sit down,' said Ellie, opening the door of the wood burner and adding another log to the fire. ‘More wine?' she asked.

‘Yes please,' said Camilla, sitting on the sofa. ‘This is really cosy. It was almost a shell when I last saw it and you were living in a sleeping bag upstairs. You've done a great job; it's like something out of
Country Living
magazine! And so many books, they add real character.'

‘Most of those are Sarah's,' said Ellie. ‘There's another room full upstairs. If we ever get round to it, we plan to put them in shelves on the landing. Either that or we'll turn one of the bedrooms into a study and put them in there.'

‘It's one of the problems with being an English teacher, I can't bear to throw books away which means I need more and more space every year,' said Sarah, joining the conversation. She was cooking on the Aga and had to keep turning round to see the other two. Whatever she was making smelt great, thought Camilla as she started to realise how hungry she was.

‘It's not being an English teacher that's the problem, it's working in a secondhand bookshop. Sarah gets first refusal on any books that the shop doesn't want. Needless to say, she never turns any down!' explained Ellie.

Sarah laughed. ‘That's fair,' she said, turning and smiling at Ellie. ‘But it's amazing what you end up reading just because someone gives you the book for nothing.'

‘Such as?' asked Camilla, enjoying the gentle conversation and beginning to relax for the first time in days.

‘Well,' said Sarah, ‘take last week as an example. We did a house clearance following the death of an old philosophy professor from Plymouth Uni. He had zillions of books, many of which the bookshop already had. Lots of them were also very niche and not worth a huge amount so we were allowed to choose ten each to keep. I chose two books by Michel Foucault. I'd never really read any of his work before but now I'm an avid fan. It was hard going at first because he uses a vocabulary that I wasn't familiar with but it really makes you think about the nature of relationships and the power plays that exist in society.' She stopped as she noticed Ellie doing theatrical yawns. ‘I'm sorry, Ellie keeps telling me that I'm becoming very boring about it.'

‘You are,' said Ellie getting up. ‘But Camilla is more intellectual than I am so don't let me stop you. Come on Boot, time to pee.' The dog's ears pricked up and, seeing Ellie moving towards the door, he jumped out of his basket and ran towards her.

Ellie opened the outside door. Boot shot out and then turned, barking at Ellie to follow him. Sarah and Camilla continued chatting about Foucault. The discussion about philosophers reminded Camilla of a film she'd recently seen on You Tube called ‘What if money was no object?'.

‘It's brilliant,' she said, ‘all about living your dreams. It's by a chap called Alan Watts. I'd never heard of him before but he's got an amazing voice and what he says makes a huge amount of sense. I'll see if I can find it tomorrow and show it to you,' said Camilla. ‘It's the sort of thing you could show to your pupils to make them think about what they want to do in life.' She was starting to like Sarah. When Ellie first mentioned her, she was worried that Sarah might be taking advantage of her good natured friend. But the more she talked to her, the more she realised that Sarah was one of the good guys and that she and Ellie were an ideal match. ‘How did you two meet?' asked Camilla.

‘In the bookshop,' said Sarah. ‘I was working on a Saturday morning. Ellie came in, browsed for about half an hour in a suspiciously odd way and then very nervously asked me if we had a copy of
Carol
by Patricia Highsmith. We did as it happens so I showed her where it was. I was feeling a bit mischievous so when she paid, I asked her why she wanted it. She went bright red and stuttered something about it being for a friend.'

‘What's significant about
Carol
?' asked Camilla.

‘Well, Patricia Highsmith was bisexual and though she is most famous for her stories about Ripley, particularly since Matt Damon and Jude Law starred in the film adaptation, she also explored the theme of lesbian love in
Carol
. Actually, it was originally called ‘The Price of Salt' and was published under the pseudonym of Claire Morgan. It's a bit like E M Forster and Maurice, although Forster was dead before any of his less “wholesome” stories were published.' She signed the parenthesis around wholesome with her fingers. ‘When she'd paid for the book, I told her that if she wanted to read anything else along similar lines, I'd lend her my own copies to save her buying them,' continued Sarah. ‘As soon as I'd said that, Ellie visibly relaxed. We met for coffee a couple of times over the next few weeks and the rest, as they say, is history! We're very similar in so many ways that, if I think about it deeply, particularly after a few glasses of wine, I can't help but think that we were destined to be together. It just took us a while to find each other and it happened in a book shop in Ashburton of all places!'