Authors: Kaye C. Hill
“This young lady is a friend of the Patersons, them that got Elizabeth’s place,” Maureen informed him.
He looked her up and down boldly enough, but Lexy was sure she saw a shadow in the eyes Elizabeth had captured so well in her painting.
“Hello,” she said. “Saw you in the pub the other night.”
“Not surprised. Home from home for me. Now, I must be going, Mo. Ciao.”
“Bye, luvver.”
He whisked out. Annoyed that he didn’t take the conversational bait, Lexy heaved her basket on to the counter. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any cardamom pods?”
“Not in the shop, not enough demand for them, but I’ve got some in my kitchen out back. ’Ow many d’you want?”
“Are you sure? Half a dozen should do it.”
“Keep an eye on things here a tick, then.”
You can’t beat the countryside, Lexy thought. Where else would someone give you supplies out of their own kitchen, and leave you in charge of the shop while they went to get them?
“’Ere you are – two extra for luck. Curry tonight is it?”
“It’s looking that way.”
“I like a nice curry. They planning on staying long, the Patersons?”
Here we go. Lexy shook her head. “I think they have to get back to London.”
“Selling the cottage, are they? To them Gallimores?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“There’s a surprise! Thought they’d put an offer in?”
“Yeah, they did. But it wasn’t nearly enough.” Lexy smiled. That would be all round the village by tomorrow.
She left the shop, weighed down by two bags. Halfway back to the car, around a bend that put the shop out of sight, she heard heavy footsteps behind her.
“Here – let me carry those bags.”
Lexy stopped, surprised.
It was Archer Trevino, speaking through wreaths of cigarette smoke. He’d obviously off-loaded the whisky. Smelt like he’d had a snifter before doing so.
“Thanks,” she said. “I feel like my arms have grown another three inches. Name’s Lexy Lomax, by the way.”
“Archer Trevino.” The hand he offered her was calloused and stained with paint and nicotine.
“New to the village, I hear?” He bent to pick up her shopping.
“Just a temporary guest. My home’s back in Clopwolde.”
“Ah, Clopwolde – the great metropolis! Good god, woman, what have you got in these bags?”
“We ran out of a few things up at the cottage. Don’t worry, my car’s just down the road.”
“Why didn’t you park outside the shop? We’re not exactly overrun with yellow lines and parking wardens in Nodmore.”
“I enjoy the exercise.”
“You don’t need it, darling. Mind you – I do. And I have an ulterior motive for being gentlemanly.”
“Oh, yes?”
He stopped to wipe his brow. “It concerns the family Paterson up at the cottage.”
Lexy hid a smile.
“I wondered how long they plan to stay. And if they plan to sell.”
“Are you interested in buying the place, then?" she said, innocently.
“Maybe.”
“Or are you just trying to avoid them?”
His eyes narrowed. "Perceptive of you.”
“Just happened to notice you leave the pub in a hurry the other night when you recognised them.”
“And observant. Well, as it happens I’d rather not run into them, for reasons that go back a long way."
“Back to 1990?”
He exhaled, coughing out smoke as he did so. “Who told you?" His eyes were no longer decadent – they were sharp and concerned.
“All I know is that Steve and Jackie Paterson fell out with Elizabeth that year.”
“How long have you been a friend of the Patersons?"
“Not that long.”
“Er.
..
Lexy.
..
"He leant towards her, giving her the benefit of his whisky-enhanced breath.
"
I know it’s a bit of an imposition, but any discussion regarding
past events with Elizabeth, Steve and Jackie – could you keep it under your hat? This is a small village, and they do love to talk." He went into a spasm of coughing.
“No problem. Look, my car’s just down this side road," Lexy said.
"
I can take the bags from here." She didn’t want the bloke expiring on her.
“Sure you’re not trying to avoid someone too?"
“I like to keep a low profile.”
“What – in that thing?" He’d spotted the Panda.
“Would you want to park it in the middle of the village?”
“See your point.”
“Thanks for the help with the bags.”
“My pleasure. I
...
er.
..
suppose it was you Steve was visiting here a few weeks ago?”
Lexy frowned. "When, exactly?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Yes, I do. It was the day before my Liz fell over that bloody balcony."
Lexy felt a curious sense of detachment. "Steve Paterson was here then?”
“In Clopwolde, certainly. Saw him driving through the village. I noticed the name on the side of the van first. Paterson’s Fine Cakes. Then I realised it was him behind the wheel.
Quite a blast from the past." His expression was rueful.
He’s an old lush, Lexy’s brain urged her. He probably imagined it.
“Then he turned up in the pub the other day," Archer went on. "And I somehow knew it wouldn’t be long before.
.."
Lexy took the weight of the bags. Wild conclusions were starting to race through her mind.
“...anyway, speaking of the Unicorn, you know the night when you were all in there.
..
?”
Lexy nodded distractedly.
“The two girls – I thought at first they were with the Gallimore lads, you know, girlfriends. But then I realised they were.
.."
He hesitated. "Steve’s daughters,
weren’t they?”
Lexy nodded again. "Guess you never met them.”
“Jackie had a toddler with her, last time I saw her back in 1990.”
“That would have been Gabrielle – Steve’s daughter with his first wife. The younger girl, Rowana, probably wouldn’t even have been born.”
“No. No, of course she wouldn’t.”
Archer was still standing on the corner of the road after Lexy had turned and driven past.
When she arrived at the gate to Pilgrim’s Farm, she pulled in and stopped, her mind churning. Archer’s words echoed in her head.
Steve had been in Suffolk, driving through Clopwolde. Twenty minutes away from Nodmore. The day before Elizabeth went over the balcony.
But how long had he stayed?
She sat for a moment, trying to think. OK. He was in the vicinity the day before Elizabeth was killed. That’s all she knew. Could have been another reason he was here.
She knew that Steve, Jackie and Elizabeth had secrets. Secrets, she now realised, that were shared with Archer Trevino. Four of them in it. Two now dead. Lexy gripped the steering wheel, her
heart in her mouth. Steve couldn’t possibly be behind Elizabeth’s death, could he? It seemed unthinkable. But what if he’d already known about the will? Been so desperate that
he’d decided to capitalise on it early?
She shut her eyes briefly. There was nothing for it. One way or another, she was going to have to find out exactly what time he’d got back from Suffolk. And she wasn’t sure if she
was going to like the answer.
Funny how Milo had picked up on that point right from the beginning.
Lexy got out of the car to open the gate. How the hell were Rowana and Gabrielle going to deal with it, if it turned out to be true?
She blinked. The farm gate was already open. Furthermore, a large wooden sign had appeared – WELCOME TO PILGRIM’S FARM. Instructions were in place for visitors to follow the signs to
the parking area. Someone must have only just erected the sign, because she was certain it hadn’t been there when she drove out of the gate three-quarters of an hour ago.
Disorientated, Lexy got back into the car and drove slowly up the tarmac track. It occurred to her that if Steve, god forbid, had been behind Elizabeth’s death, the Gallimores were off the
hook.
And if that was the case, Lexy thought, staring over at the huddle of farm buildings, why on earth had they been practically falling over themselves to behave so suspiciously, to deceive, hijack
and generally lead her a merry dance ever since she’d met them?
She needed someone to bounce ideas off. Lexy pulled over halfway to the cottage, and tried Milo. The signal was faint and he was still unavailable. She sent a text in the end:
Call me
asap.
Not much point, she thought, dismally. The chances were that the signal would have gone completely by the time she got to the cottage.
Steve was still under the car on the lawn when she got back. He was tapping hard at something and didn’t seem to have heard the Panda’s engine. Lexy found herself giving him a wide
berth, practically sneaking into the kitchen. She couldn’t face him right now.
Rowana was pleased to see her.
“You got the cardamom!”
“I wasn’t so lucky with the quinces.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Rowana began unpacking the bags. “Would you like a coffee?”
Oh, yes. Lexy sat down heavily at the table. “Black, please, two sugars.”
She watched her set the cups up and pour.
“Are you all right?” Rowana asked.
“Got a couple of things on my mind.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Yes, thought Lexy. You can tell me what your dad was up to in Suffolk six weeks ago, while you were prancing around your magic circle. But to ask the question outright was impossible.
“Thanks,” she smiled. “But this is just a temporary glitch I’m suffering.”
“Is it money...? I mean, I must owe you some by now.”
“No, you’re all right. Let’s sort it out at the end of the week.” Which wasn’t far away. Lexy just hoped the event wouldn’t be marked by Rowana’s dad
being carted off to Lowestoft nick for questioning.
“Could you take this to Gabby? She’s in the living room.” Rowana handed her a cup of coffee.
A portable radio was playing when Lexy went in, and Gabrielle was humming along to it.
“It’s the theme tune to the new
Wuthering Heights
,” she told Lexy.
“What, the Hollywood remake? Have you seen it?” Lexy tried to pull herself together.
“Yes. Opening night in the West End. Russell took me up there.” Gabrielle sighed. “Only time he ever took me to the movies. I cried buckets at the end.”
Only time he ever took me to the movies.
Lexy tried not to stare boggle-eyed at her. She had a sudden image of Rowana, sitting opposite her, at her desk in the fisherman’s cabin on Clopwolde quay, telling Lexy why she’d had
to abruptly end her invocation in the greenhouse.
I heard noises. It was Gabrielle and Russell, back from the cinema.
Lexy was finding it difficult to catch her breath. “That was the night your dad was away, wasn’t it?”
Gabrielle thought for a moment. “Yes.” She reddened. “How did you know?”
Lexy reckoned that Gabrielle’s blushes were to do with the fact that Russell had spent the night in the flat over the shop.
“Rowana mentioned it. She said it was one of the few times your dad had ever been away overnight.” It was a bit of a weak stroke, but it got the boat moving.
“Yeah – and he hated the idea of leaving us alone, even at my age. It was embarrassing. Like he didn’t trust us.” Again she reddened.
“Still, I bet he got back early the next morning to make sure you hadn’t been having any wild parties.” Lexy was gripping the coffee mug hard enough to break it. Please say he
got back before nine.
“No, actually he didn’t get back until lunchtime.”
“Oh, crap.”
“Sorry?”
Lexy put the coffee cup down abruptly and walked out. She needed to go somewhere quiet to think. She needed Milo, and she needed Kinky. Neither of whom was currently available.
Avoiding Steve, this time by going out of the back gate, she walked down the steep hill. She didn’t get a signal until she was practically at Pilgrim’s Farm.
There was a text message from Milo.
In court all day. Problems?
She rang him. Voicemail again. It was too complicated to explain. She tapped a text in.
Pls come to 4 Winds when u can. Yes – problems.
There was a woodpile near the farm gate. Lexy sat on it. Slowly, she tried to get her scattered thoughts in order.
Every instinct she had was telling her that that Steve Paterson couldn’t murder a woman in cold blood. But the facts, from Gabrielle’s unwitting lips, and from Archer Trevino’s
whisky-soaked ones, told a different story. If Archer was to be believed, Steve had been in Clopwolde the day before Elizabeth died, and if Gabrielle was right, he hadn’t returned to London
until lunch-time on the day of her death. Elizabeth died around nine o’clock in the morning. It took about three hours to drive from Clopwolde to London.
Meaning – swift push over the balcony, and back in time for lunch.
It was beyond coincidence. Lexy’s heels kicked at the logs. Steve must have known about the terms of the will. It would explain his initial reaction to the news, as described by Rowana,
and, as the reality of what he’d done sank in, his reluctance to visit Four Winds Cottage.
Any guilt that he suffered must quickly have worn off, though. She plucked a long stem of grass and chewed the end thoughtfully. He certainly hadn’t been acting like a man with murder on
his conscience. Surely he would be weighed down with remorse?
Could there be any other explanation for Steve being here on the morning of Elizabeth’s death? Lexy was sorely tempted just to stride up the hill and ask him straight. But if he had been
involved, that could be a dangerous move. If Lexy were to meet with an unfortunate accident, too, DI Milo might never get to the bottom of it.
Lexy got her phone out again and sent the detective another text.
SP may have been here the morning EC got killed.
There, that should clarify matters if it came to the crunch.
Lexy tried calling Edward next. No reply. Same with Peter. Odd.
She pushed herself up and trudged back to the cottage. There wasn’t much else she could do.
Rowana had made the promised curry. Lexy sat down with the Patersons and tried to act normally, but it wasn’t easy. She was aware of Steve eyeing her quizzically, and
with some effort she turned to his younger daughter.