Part 9 (2/2)

Of course it helped that Daniel's and Nathan's mums worked on Sat.u.r.days and their dads were just distant memories, having left for pastures new when they were small something that had created an unspoken bond between them at primary school. On Sat.u.r.days the two boys were left to their own devices and being too old for toys and too young as yet for the s.e.x, drugs and bottles of strong cider on offer outside the village pubs and phone boxes they roamed the lanes around the village of Whitely on their bikes when the weather was fine.

Today their mothers had gone to work as usual, in a bakery and a pasty shop respectively, and the boys had left the small council estate on the edge of the village to cycle out to the woods next to Sunacres Holiday Park. From the edge of the wood they could spy on the holidaymakers, sn.i.g.g.e.ring as they watched the self-conscious adults playing ball games or basking like seals on sunloungers outside the wooden chalets. During the school holidays they'd hide in the trees and jeer quietly at the kids playing football with their fathers, hiding their painful envy behind the disdain.

But today there were few holidaymakers about so the boys went in search of other entertainment. After hiding their bikes in bushes, they scuttled away into the depth of the wood, scratching their bare arms on brambles and bravely ignoring the stinging nettles that grabbed at them from either side.

They trudged on through unexplored territory, stopping now and then to answer a call of nature against a tree, until they came to a small clearing. To their right a thicket of tangled branches formed a rough tunnel, perfect for their purpose. This would be a den to end all dens. A palace amongst dens. Quite magnificent. A fine and private place where the unreliable adult world could never touch them.

Daniel led the way as they pushed through the undergrowth. Then suddenly he stopped.

'Go on,' Nathan snapped, almost falling over his friend.

There was a long silence. 'Nath. Let's go.'

Nathan pushed his friend out of the way and looked down at the ground where the scattered bones lay, pale against the brown of the earth. He held his breath for a moment, taking in the skull, the cavernous eye sockets and the teeth that grinned cheerlessly upwards at the overhanging tree branches.

Daniel began to back away, his eyes on the bones as though he expected them to rise any minute, rea.s.semble themselves and chase the intruding boys out of their secret place.

Their hearts racing, the boys ran back to their bicycles and rode home as though the devil himself was on their tail.

CHAPTER 5.

You've seen the pit the place where the brothers' blood was poured. And no doubt, if you have any intelligence at all, this find will confirm the true purpose of the buildings at Stow Barton. But I wonder if you will discover the rest. I wonder if you'll ever find out the truth about what happened to Brother William. I like this blood game. My wits pitted against yours, Neil.

Did I say it was a game? Perhaps it is and perhaps it isn't. Can a game cause so much pain?

The writer switched off the computer. Why had Brother William's story come to light just as the excavation at Stow Barton was about to begin? Why had its discovery dragged the terrible memory back into the daylight now, when it had been dammed up for years behind a wall of normality? Why had the whole thing returned like an evil-smelling flood?

At four thirty Wesley was thinking of home and the evening ahead a leisurely meal followed by a spot of hotel luxury. Pam had had to face yet another Sat.u.r.day on her own with the kids and he felt a little guilty that he hadn't been there to give her time to prepare for their anniversary evening. But at least he had the recipe for creme brulee, written in Fabrice Colbert's own hand, to present to her as a peace offering. He had sent the pen Colbert had used to write it down to Forensic but as it was the weekend, he wasn't holding his breath for a speedy result.

Gerry Heffernan, beaming like a fairy G.o.dfather, had told him to go, saying that they'd done all they intended to do and unless anything new came in, he might as well go off and enjoy himself. Rachel had reported back on her meetings with the ladies who'd lunched with Annette Marrick on the day of her husband's murder, concluding that Annette's alibi was flimsy to say the least. She wouldn't have trusted either of those women, she announced judgementally. But she believed Celia Dawn's revelation that she'd had an affair with Charlie Marrick who liked to add a spot of violence to his love life. The man must have made enemies and the list of suspects probably stretched into infinity. This particular Charlie was n.o.body's darling.

With this comforting thought in his head, Wesley reached for his jacket which was hanging on the coat stand. He was just about to put it on when the telephone on his desk rang. The desk sergeant sounded apologetic as he informed Wesley that a lady was waiting down in reception with a couple of kids. She was talking about a skeleton in some woods. Was someone from CID available to have a word with her?

Wesley put the phone down and took a deep breath. He put on his jacket and made his way to Gerry Heffernan's office. He'd want to know. He might bl.u.s.ter and complain but he'd still want to know.

In the end they sent Paul Johnson down to see the woman. Somehow neither of them could face it just at that moment and they both trusted Paul to get at the facts. But after ten minutes Paul returned with a solemn look on his long face. The kids had come across some bones in the woodland next to the Sunacres Holiday Park. According to the woman it had frightened the life out of them but the kids had looked as though they were enjoying every minute.

It was Gerry Heffernan who made the decision. 'Okay, Paul. You and Lee Parsons go up there with her. It'll be nothing probably a dead sheep or something. But if it turns out to be human, you know what to do.'

Wesley felt relieved. He'd promised Pam he'd be back early. The last thing he wanted was for work to interfere with their special evening.

He walked home. The sky was bright and the weather forecast was good. Even though tomorrow was Sunday, Wesley knew he'd be needed at work again. But Gerry had told him not to arrive till after lunch his token anniversary present to Wesley and Pam.

When Wesley arrived at the house, Pam rushed out into the hall to greet him. And the expression on her face something between embarra.s.sment and disappointment told him that all wasn't well.

'It's my b.l.o.o.d.y mother she's let us down. Some friend's turned up out of the blue and she called about an hour ago to say she can't look after the kids. The friend's male of course.'

Wesley put a calming hand on her shoulder. He'd known Della was a selfish b.i.t.c.h but this topped everything. 'Have you tried Maritia and Mark? Maybe ...'

'They're visiting Mark's mum in hospital won't be back till late.' Tears were forming in her eyes. 'I've rung the hotel to cancel.'

Wesley clenched his fist. His mother-in-law was becoming more irresponsible than most of her teenage students and she was getting worse with the years. He would have felt differently if she'd had a genuine reason for ruining her daughter's anniversary, but a date with some man ... He wouldn't forget this in a hurry.

He looked at Pam. She was taking it remarkably well or seemed to be.

'If we can't get a babysitter, we'd better have a takeaway,' she said calmly. 'Are you going to ring the Golden Dragon, or shall I?'

Wesley tried to hide his anger. Takeaways were commonplace the thing he always suggested when he wanted to ease the domestic burden. But tonight they had little choice.

The phone call came just after he'd ordered the food. 'Wanted to catch you before you went off gallivanting,' said Gerry Heffernan's voice on the other end of the line sounding inappropriately cheerful.

'The gallivanting's off,' said Wesley miserably. 'I'll explain when I see you.'

'Oh ... er ... right,' bl.u.s.tered Heffernan, unsure what to say. 'Well I just thought you'd like to know that Paul's reported back. The bones in the wood were almost certainly human.

Wesley glanced at Pam who was watching him expectantly. Perhaps some things were just meant to be.

All in all Simon Tench had had a bleak day. The foal he had been called out to deliver had died but at least he and Sam Heffernan had managed to save the mother. The promised new life had turned to grim death and the incident left Simon feeling depressed. Professional failure and the look of disappointment sometimes even grief on his patients' owners' faces, always did.

When he arrived back at the cottage he and Emma were renting just outside the village of Stokeworthy, he found Emma wearing her uniform, car keys at the ready. She kissed his cheek and asked him what was wrong she was always sensitive to his moods; that was one of the things he loved about her. But as soon as he'd outlined the problems of his day, she'd had to rush out:she'd changed her s.h.i.+ft at Tradmouth Hospital and she'd be working all night. She'd have liked to be there for him in his hour of need, but sometimes these things couldn't be helped.

When she'd gone, he sat down and flicked through the estate agents' brochures lying on the coffee table. They'd have to find somewhere soon. He'd had high hopes of the TV programme that the company could somehow produce the perfect property for them out of nowhere but it hadn't happened. Nothing they had been shown had had the right feel and the only one they'd made an offer for had been whisked out of their grasp by a second-home seeker with a city bonus to spend. They were still looking and local prices were still rising. But he and Emma had enjoyed their half hour of fame. Taking part in a TV property show had meant a change of routine and a brief brush with a more glamorous world.

Simon contemplated making himself something to eat. But he wasn't really hungry. He kept seeing the dead foal lying on the straw, still and perfect ... like a work of art, a beautiful sculpture. The mother had nuzzled it, urging it to stand, to spring to life. Simon buried his head in his hands. He mustn't let it get to him.

He needed a distraction, some mindless noise to fill the room and drive out the gloom. He had just picked up the remote control to switch on the TV when the doorbell rang, piercing the silence.

He stood up. Perhaps it was Emma. Perhaps she hadn't been needed at work after all and she'd forgotten her house keys.

But when he opened the door he saw that it wasn't his wife standing there. But he still greeted the caller with a smile. And after a short conversation, he invited the newcomer in.

Pam had told Wesley that if he didn't go and see what was going on, it would only be on his mind all evening. And she wanted his undivided attention.

So, after making earnest promises that he wouldn't be long, he joined Gerry Heffernan in the woodland near the Sunacres Holiday Park. Colin Bowman was already there, examining the bones. And after a few minutes, he delivered his verdict. 'Well the bones are definitely human probably those of a mature male and they've been here quite some time. They're scattered around most likely disturbed by animals but more than that, gentlemen, I can't really tell you until I've had a chance to examine them more closely.'

Wesley and Heffernan looked at each other. 'Had they been buried or ...'

Colin shook his head. 'They might have been in a shallow grave but there's no evidence of it. It's more likely that the body was just left in the undergrowth and the animals got to it. Not a nice thought but ... nature red in tooth and claw and all that. It's pretty overgrown here. They could have lain undiscovered for years.'

Wesley nodded. 'How old was he?'

Colin looked up. 'You know as well as I do, Wesley, that these things aren't always easy but I'd say he was probably in his thirties of forties. Fortunately we have the skull.' He asked the photographers if they'd finished and when the answer was affirmative, he picked the skull up, Hamlet style, and gazed at it for a few moments. 'There are a few fillings which may help with the identification.' He sighed. 'Any idea who it might be? Have you had a chance to look in your missing persons files yet?'

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