Read Online A Grave in the Cotswolds by Rebecca Tope - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rebecca Tope
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her to the gateway and pointed. I followed, peering over Thea’s shoulder. A large stone lay a yard away from the body. ‘That?’ snorted Thea. ‘It’s just a stone. It hasn’t even got blood on it.’
‘It wouldn’t, if it was only used once,’ said Paul. ‘The bleeding wouldn’t start instantly. Blood would indicate repeated blows.’ I could almost visualise the page in the textbook he was quoting from.
‘But Drew can’t be strong enough to make such a wound. He’s probably not even tall enough,’ my defender protested. I was warmed by the use of my first name, while thinking, yes, I probably was both strong and tall enough for the deed if I’d been sufficiently determined. Mr Maynard hadn’t been very tall, after all.
‘This is not the way it should be done,’ Jessica recollected herself. ‘We have to wait for the proper procedure.’ She gave me a narrow stare. ‘But I will have to report what I saw this morning, as well as the fact that you walked this way earlier on.’
‘I can see it looks bad,’ I said, aiming for a reasonable tone, the sort that an innocent man would use.
We’d been there perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, at most, eyeing each other warily, and studiously avoiding any further scrutiny of the corpse. I found myself wanting to give it a decent covering, to engage my normal undertaker’s stance and remove the vulnerable body to a place of safe keeping. I felt a burgeoning pity for the wretched man and his soulless beliefs about burial. All too grotesquely soon, he was going to be the occupant of either a grave or an ashes urn. There was something fateful in the sudden turn of events, as if he had brought ill fortune upon himself by his opinions.
Which was, I realised, rather the way Jessica Osborne saw it. The man had argued with me, and now he was dead. How could there not be a connection?
The backup began to arrive, summoned by Paul. Cars, people, a few more onlookers – all slowly assembled and disposed themselves in a more or less organised fashion along the verge. Only a tiny handful possessed the authority to pass through the gate onto the patch of land where the body lay. I found myself joining the two women who had been there from the start, asked by Jessica to stay in their car, even though they insisted they had seen nothing but Mr and Mrs David, clearly in some distress. ‘We should never have stopped,’ the older one said crossly. ‘This has nothing to do with us. We tried to call 999, but we couldn’t get a signal.’
Innocent bystanders, I thought, detachedly. Just utterly bad luck to be passing at that particular moment. But then, why did they stop? ‘Do you know them?’ I asked, indicating the Davids, wondering whether I was allowed to address witnesses. Nobody made a move to stop me.
‘Her, vaguely, by sight,’ said the cross woman. ‘We live in Chipping Campden, and I think she works in a shop there. It is her, isn’t it?’ she said to her companion.
‘What – in the chemist, you mean?’
‘Right. Don’t remember seeing him, though.’
I looked again at the older couple. He had binoculars slung around his neck, a bizarre detail given the circumstances. Perhaps he had glimpsed the murderer speeding off across the fields, while scanning the area for his woodpecker. His wife was well turned out, her hair neat and her shoes clean. They appeared to be content to stand patiently by, awaiting their moment in the police spotlight. I moved towards them, trying to focus on their plight, thinking I might ask them one or two questions, just for politeness’ sake, but before I could speak, a newly arrived policeman approached me and politely told me to remain where I was, until a more senior officer arrived and questioned me. My head throbbed with the strangeness of what was unfolding around me.
Thea attached herself to my side, the spaniel sitting quietly at her feet, licking a paw as if nothing interesting were going on. Thea’s spaniel was
‘It wouldn’t, if it was only used once,’ said Paul. ‘The bleeding wouldn’t start instantly. Blood would indicate repeated blows.’ I could almost visualise the page in the textbook he was quoting from.
‘But Drew can’t be strong enough to make such a wound. He’s probably not even tall enough,’ my defender protested. I was warmed by the use of my first name, while thinking, yes, I probably was both strong and tall enough for the deed if I’d been sufficiently determined. Mr Maynard hadn’t been very tall, after all.
‘This is not the way it should be done,’ Jessica recollected herself. ‘We have to wait for the proper procedure.’ She gave me a narrow stare. ‘But I will have to report what I saw this morning, as well as the fact that you walked this way earlier on.’
‘I can see it looks bad,’ I said, aiming for a reasonable tone, the sort that an innocent man would use.
We’d been there perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, at most, eyeing each other warily, and studiously avoiding any further scrutiny of the corpse. I found myself wanting to give it a decent covering, to engage my normal undertaker’s stance and remove the vulnerable body to a place of safe keeping. I felt a burgeoning pity for the wretched man and his soulless beliefs about burial. All too grotesquely soon, he was going to be the occupant of either a grave or an ashes urn. There was something fateful in the sudden turn of events, as if he had brought ill fortune upon himself by his opinions.
Which was, I realised, rather the way Jessica Osborne saw it. The man had argued with me, and now he was dead. How could there not be a connection?
The backup began to arrive, summoned by Paul. Cars, people, a few more onlookers – all slowly assembled and disposed themselves in a more or less organised fashion along the verge. Only a tiny handful possessed the authority to pass through the gate onto the patch of land where the body lay. I found myself joining the two women who had been there from the start, asked by Jessica to stay in their car, even though they insisted they had seen nothing but Mr and Mrs David, clearly in some distress. ‘We should never have stopped,’ the older one said crossly. ‘This has nothing to do with us. We tried to call 999, but we couldn’t get a signal.’
Innocent bystanders, I thought, detachedly. Just utterly bad luck to be passing at that particular moment. But then, why did they stop? ‘Do you know them?’ I asked, indicating the Davids, wondering whether I was allowed to address witnesses. Nobody made a move to stop me.
‘Her, vaguely, by sight,’ said the cross woman. ‘We live in Chipping Campden, and I think she works in a shop there. It is her, isn’t it?’ she said to her companion.
‘What – in the chemist, you mean?’
‘Right. Don’t remember seeing him, though.’
I looked again at the older couple. He had binoculars slung around his neck, a bizarre detail given the circumstances. Perhaps he had glimpsed the murderer speeding off across the fields, while scanning the area for his woodpecker. His wife was well turned out, her hair neat and her shoes clean. They appeared to be content to stand patiently by, awaiting their moment in the police spotlight. I moved towards them, trying to focus on their plight, thinking I might ask them one or two questions, just for politeness’ sake, but before I could speak, a newly arrived policeman approached me and politely told me to remain where I was, until a more senior officer arrived and questioned me. My head throbbed with the strangeness of what was unfolding around me.
Thea attached herself to my side, the spaniel sitting quietly at her feet, licking a paw as if nothing interesting were going on. Thea’s spaniel was
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