Blood Harvest Part 29

17 December.

'FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH, WORTH, VICAR, VICAR, I THOUGHT THAT WAS I THOUGHT THAT WAS better than the first one. Shorter. Less standing around in the wind.' better than the first one. Shorter. Less standing around in the wind.'

Harry turned to see that Tobias Renshaw had crept up on him through the mourners that were gathered in the large hall of the Renshaws' house. It really wasn't his day. After Lucy's second interment, in a new grave, lower down the hill than her first, he'd raced back to the church, ca.s.sock flapping, to try and catch Evi before she disappeared again and had practically fallen over the gang of journalists lurking by the church door. He really wasn't in the mood for this obnoxious old b.u.g.g.e.r. He made a point of looking round the room.

'I'm not sure Mike is back from the graveside yet,' he said. 'I might pop out and look for him. He seems to be taking this quite hard.'

'Who?' asked Tobias. 'Oh, Jenny's husband. Never really took to him. Always struck me as being on the make. Still, she seems happy enough. How's the lovely Alice and her charming daughter? I saw them in church just now. Haven't they come back?'

'Detective Chief Superintendent,' said Harry in relief as Rushton appeared behind Tobias. 'Good to see you.'

'All right, lad.' Rushton nodded at him then turned to the older man. 'Mr R.,' he said. 'My condolences.'

'Yes, yes,' said Tobias. 'Can I get anyone a drink? You'd think there'd be a hards.h.i.+p fund, wouldn't you, for when a second funeral becomes necessary?' Harry and Rushton watched the old man walk away towards a drinks table.

'He's harmless enough,' said Rushton in a low voice.

'If you say so,' said Harry, without the energy even to try to hide his feelings. 'I'll tell you what puzzles me, though.'

'What's that, lad?'

'Doesn't everything round here the land, the farms, all the property doesn't it belong to Tobias? He's the oldest Renshaw, after all. Yet Sinclair always seems to be completely in charge.'

'It was all made over to Sinclair a few years ago,' replied Rushton. 'From what I can remember, Tobias was ready to retire and Sinclair wouldn't take over unless he was given a free rein.'

Harry could smell smoke and coffee on the other man's breath. 'He made his father sign over control?' he asked.

'Oh, that sounds worse than it was. It would all have come to Sinclair in the end. The property is what do you call it? entailed. The oldest male always inherits. Now then, I'm glad I've caught you. A quiet word, if I may.'

As Harry allowed himself to be gently propelled into a quiet corner of the old school room, he caught sight of Gillian watching them.

'We've had the results of the latest DNA test,' said Rushton quietly. He too had spotted Gillian. 'You know, the one done on the burned remains Mrs Royle had in her kitchen cupboard? It took longer than we'd have liked, but anyway, it's back now.'

'And?'

'Result. Perfect match to our friend Arthur.'

Harry sighed. There was a bottle of Irish whiskey on the drinks table but it wasn't even midday and he had a busy afternoon. 'So let me get this straight,' he said. 'The remains Gillian Royle had in her kitchen cupboard all this time were actually those of a seventy-year-old man called Arthur Seacroft who was originally buried next to Lucy.'

'Well, strictly speaking, just the remains of part of his right leg,' said Rushton. 'The rest of him is still in the grave. Ah, thanks, love, very nice.'

Christiana Renshaw had approached, carrying a tray of sandwiches. Rushton helped himself to two. Harry shook his head, then waited until Christiana had moved away to the next group.

'So someone dug up Arthur's grave,' he said, 'helped themselves to one of his limbs, broke into Gillian's house that night, abducted Hayley, left Arthur's leg behind in her cot and then started the fire.'

Rushton chewed for a few seconds and swallowed. 'You have to admire their nerve,' he said. 'Without some trace of charred human remains in the house, the firemen would have been suspicious. Finding nothing would have given credence to Gillian's claims that her daughter didn't die in the fire. There would have been a serious search. We'd have found them in the crypt. Arthur's right leg put paid to all that. We didn't look for Hayley. Another serious error for me to account for when I meet my maker.'

'Hindsight's a wonderful thing,' said Harry. 'I've seen the report into the fire. Gillian showed it to me. The fire investigators had no reason to suspect arson.'

Rushton said nothing. He carried on eating but his actions had an automatic look about them. 'We've also had the entomologist's report back,' he said after a minute. 'Goes on at length about egg-laying and hatching cycles, cheese graters, skuttle flies, coffin skippers sorry, lad, I don't do bugs. The long and short of it is that he thinks Megan and Hayley joined Lucy in the ground in early September.'

'About the time the church was reopened,' said Harry.

'Exactly.' Rushton finished his first sandwich and got to work on his second. 'Whoever was responsible wasn't prepared to take the risk of the three being found when the new vicar decided to explore the crypt. So they were moved to the graveyard, which is the best place I can think of to stash away a body or two. He or she wasn't counting on the Fletcher boys and their midnight escapades.'

At the far side of the room, Christiana reappeared. Her tray of sandwiches had been replenished.

'Christiana knows more than she's telling us,' said Harry.

Rushton turned to look at Christiana. She moved slowly, but rather gracefully for such a tall woman. 'Aye, so you say, lad,' he said. 'But when I talked to her she just said who wouldn't be worried, after two other girls were found to have died the exact way Lucy did. And after Millie Fletcher so nearly went the same way. You have to admit she has a point. And before you ask, she volunteered to give us her fingerprints they weren't on the effigy you found, or on the wine decanter Mike brought in back in October.'

'Oh, you're probably right,' admitted Harry. 'I'm jumping at shadows.'

'You know I saw her the morning after we found the bodies?' Rushton said. 'To ask her to identify the pyjamas?'

Harry nodded.

'I showed them to Jenny and Christiana. Jenny wasn't sure well, she was very upset that day, but Christiana, now, she was quite something. She brought her workbasket out and showed me the patterns she'd used to make the animals, all those years ago. And then she told me the exact colour and reference number of each embroidery silk she'd used. She's an odd one, but bright as anything in her own way.'

'Any news on the wellington boot?' asked Harry, then waited until Rushton had finished his sandwich.

'Hit a dead end,' said Rushton. 'I'd hoped we might be able to pin it down to a particular batch, but no such luck. If we find the boot itself, we can match it, but a lot of people wear wellies around here.'

As Rushton was speaking, Harry caught sight of Gillian again. She raised a gla.s.s of colourless liquid to her lips and swallowed most of it. Rushton followed his glance and the two of them watched Gillian make her way towards the drinks table. She reached out, swaying slightly, and took hold of a bottle.

Gillian's initial reaction to learning that Hayley was indeed one of the three corpses unearthed by Tom Fletcher had been one of jubilation at being proven right: her daughter hadn't died in the fire, as she'd always claimed. That had been quickly followed, though, by ongoing torment, as she seemed unable to stop herself imagining the final hours of her daughter's life. Even without talking to Evi, Harry knew that Gillian's recovery had taken a severe setback.

He took a quick look around the room. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. 'Will you excuse me?' he said to Rushton.

The older man nodded. 'Aye, go on, lad,' he said. 'Although, frankly, I'm not sure there's much you can do for that one.'

62.

'OK, HERE ARE THE RULES,' HERE ARE THE RULES,' SAID EVI, SAID EVI, LOOKING DOWN AT LOOKING DOWN AT three alert, interested faces in front of her. They were in the family interview room at the hospital. The Fletcher children were sitting opposite her in three miniature, brightly coloured armchairs. three alert, interested faces in front of her. They were in the family interview room at the hospital. The Fletcher children were sitting opposite her in three miniature, brightly coloured armchairs.

'In this box there are some funny masks and also some quite scary ones,' she went on. 'So as soon as anyone starts to feel scared, or anxious or worried in any way, we can stop. Joe and Millie, if you want to go over to the table and draw, or play with the toys in the box, that's fine. If you'd rather stay and help Tom, that's fine too.'

'I want to draw,' said Joe.

Evi indicated the low table, already set up with paper, coloured pens and crayons. In the corner of the room sat Alice and Detective Constable Liz Mortimer. Evi had asked them both not to distract the children or make them self-conscious. Behind a large mirror on one wall of the room, DC Andy Jeffries was watching and making notes.

'OK, Tom,' said Evi. 'Are you ready to have a look in the box?'

Tom nodded, looking anxious but also, Evi thought, quite enjoying the attention. Evi lowered herself to the carpet. Kneeling for any length of time was a seriously bad idea, one she'd pay for later, but it was unavoidable in this case. She took the lid off the cardboard box, conscious of Alice watching from under a canopy formed by her left hand, a magazine on her lap. Evi reached inside. 'I think this one is ...' She peered quickly at the mask she was bringing out. 's...o...b.. Doo,' she said, holding up a cartoon dog's face.

Tom smiled and visibly relaxed. 'Can I try it on?' he asked.

Evi handed it over as Millie wriggled off her armchair and headed straight for the box. Tom put the s...o...b.. Doo mask over his head and turned to look at himself in the large mirror. Alice looked up, smiled and turned back to her magazine. Millie had picked up the box lid and was balancing it on her head.

'Right,' said Evi, reaching into the box again. 'Next one is Basil Brush. Can I try this one?'

'We're going to the pantomime tomorrow,' said Tom. 'In Blackburn. It's a school trip.'

The exercise was one it had taken several weeks to set up. The idea had occurred to Evi shortly after Tom had first confided in her about the strange little girl. After listening to his descriptions, she'd explained to the investigation team her theory that someone, probably an older child or young teenager, had been hanging around the house and had even crept inside on at least one occasion, wearing some sort of carnival mask. If they could pin-point the mask used, the police might have some chance of tracking down where and to whom it had been sold. It was a long shot, especially as there was no proof that Tom's little girl was in any way connected to the attempted abduction of Millie, but it was one the police were willing to try.

Having decided to go ahead, the investigation team had gathered together every party, carnival and Hallowe'en mask they could find in the shops and on the internet. Evi had already discarded some that bore no relation to Tom's description and had arranged the funnier, less threatening ones so that they came out of the box first.

Tom was reaching into the box himself now, turning round with each new find to see how it looked in the mirror. Millie was copying her brother, getting the elastic tangled in her hair. Joe was studiously ignoring both of them. Gradually, the masks became darker, scarier, no longer made with children's parties in mind.

'Mum, look,' called Tom. He stood up tall, an oversized mask over his head. The mask seemed to depict a male, East European peasant with drooling mouth and very little brain.

'What?' said Alice, looking up from her magazine. 'Oh, very nice.'

'You know who I am,' prompted Tom. 'The servant from The Young Dracula. The Young Dracula. The one who makes them bat-bogey porridge for breakfast.' The one who makes them bat-bogey porridge for breakfast.'

'Yeah, I must get some of that,' agreed Alice. 'Any nicer ones in there?'

Tom turned back to the box as Millie waddled over to her mother with an Incredible Hulk mask pulled over her face. It was upside-down.

Thirty minutes later, Tom had reached the bottom of the box and Evi was ready to admit defeat. On the plus side, none of the children appeared to have been disturbed by the exercise. Tom had treated it like a huge game, trying on every mask, even making Evi put on several. Millie, too, had joined in the fun, although she'd grown tired a while ago and was now sitting on her mother's lap. Joe had completely ignored both his siblings and had concentrated instead on his drawing. He'd been working on the same picture for over half an hour now. He was just a little too far away for Evi to see what it was.

The clock in the corner of the room said it was twenty-five past six. 'I'm afraid we're going to have to stop now,' said Evi, glancing at the large mirror. 'Tom, thank you. That was very brave of you. And it was very helpful. Thank you, Millie.' She glanced over at Alice and DC Mortimer in the corner of the room. Alice raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Evi shook her head. Alice stood up, Millie in her arms. The child's eyes were glazed and she snuggled in close to her mother.

'Worth a try, I suppose,' muttered the detective, getting to her feet.

'Come on, boys,' said Alice. 'What did we do with coats? Joe, are you done?'

Evi had almost forgotten about Joe. The boy had been so quiet all the time she'd been interacting with Tom and Millie. Now he stood up, examined the drawing he'd been working on and then carried it over to her. He held it out.

Evi took it, feeling her ribcage tighten. The drawing was exceptionally good for one done by a six-year-old. It showed a figure dressed in pale blue, with long fair hair and over-sized hands and feet. The head seemed large too, whilst the eyes looked huge and heavy lidded. The full-lipped mouth hung open and the neck was terribly misshapen. A movement at Evi's side told her that Tom, too, was looking at his brother's drawing. Alice and Millie drew close.

'Ebba,' said Millie, her eyes brightening as she reached for the drawing. 'Ebba.'

'That's her,' said Tom in a small voice. 'That's what she looks like.'

63.

'ALL THREE OF THEM? ARE YOU SURE? ARE YOU SURE?'

'Perfectly,' said Evi. 'Joe drew her, Tom and Millie both recognized her. Millie even had a name for her. Ebba, she called her. She's quite real, this Ebba person. The police just have to find her. Are you playing Springsteen?'

'A man can dream. Hang on, I'll turn it down.' Harry picked up the remote control and the music faded. 'So what is she?' he asked. 'A kid, a dwarf?'

'Hard to say. Tom showed me on a height chart roughly how tall he thought she was. About 140 centimetres, which would put her on a par with an eight-or a nine-year-old child. But if Joe's drawing was accurate, her hands, feet and head are disproportionately big. That might suggest an adult with stunted growth. And she appears to have some sort of lump, maybe a goitre, on the front of her neck.'

'If someone like that lives in Heptonclough, people will know about her.'

'Exactly. And she must live there. There are no other towns close enough.'

'There are quite a few farms dotted about, some of them pretty isolated. She may come from one of them.'

'The detective who was there mentioned that. He's going to talk to his boss about getting a couple of officers to start visiting homes.'

'They took all this seriously? I mean, at the end of the day, it was a six-year-old kid's drawing.'

'I don't think they have much else to go on, do you?'

'What did Joe have to say about her?'

'Nothing. I talked to him for a good five minutes on his own, but he wasn't saying a word. Tom thinks he's made her a promise that he won't talk about her, but drawing her picture doesn't seem to count.'

'Could she have threatened him?' asked Harry.

'Possibly. Although I rather doubt it. Joe doesn't show any sign of being frightened of her. He wasn't stressed by the conversation, just silent. And Millie greeted her picture like she was an old friend.'

'So Tom has been scared to death of someone his brother and sister are fine with? How likely does that seem?'

'Tom's quite a bit older,' said Evi. 'In many ways he's starting to think like an adult. Joe and Millie, being younger, might be more likely to accept Ebba.'

'What is that you're calling her?' asked Harry.

'Ebba. It's Millie's name for her. Could be anything, of course Emma, Ella, who knows? The point is, she's real.'

'And how's she getting into the house?'

'Well, she isn't any more, according to Tom. He's hasn't seen her since the night the wall came down. Now that Alice and Gareth have tightened up their security, she can't get in. He thinks she might still be watching them when they're outside, but he can't be sure.'

'Come round,' said Harry, scared at how much he wanted her to.

No reply.

'I'm cooking,' he tried, when there was still no response.

'You know I can't do that,' she said.