Read Online Dreams of Origami by Elenor Gill - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elenor Gill
Ads: Link
balding head.
‘I don’t understand.’ Lacey is looking from one to the other.
‘All right, I’d better explain. They get crop circles here every summer. They’re so common, they’re boring. There’s an agreement among the locals and the police that we all keep quiet about it.’
‘But why?’
‘Well, why do you think? That’s what they do it for. The publicity. It’s a perverse way of getting attention by remaining anonymous. They go out in the middle of the night and destroy hundreds of pounds’ worth of unharvested grain. Then they hide behind the hedge, laughing while reporters and psychics and UFO freaks trample all over the place causing even more damage.’
‘Wanton destruction of private property,’ Bill cuts in. ‘Pure vandalism, that’s what it is.’
‘So…the farmers report it to the police, and then everybody shuts up about it.’
‘Yes, but why would people–;’
‘Because they’re brainless idiots who’ve got nothing better to do.’
‘But–’
‘No.’
It’s late in the afternoon when Lacey gets back to the Herald office. As is usual for this time of day, the reporters’ room is almost deserted. Jack’s still here, of course. I wonder if he ever sees his wife, thinks Lacey. Maybe that’s why his marriage has lasted so long. He looks up as Lacey comes in. ‘Any news of that Caxton chap?’
‘No, nothing. I’ve just come from there, been talking with his wife again.’ Lacey throws her bag on the desk and drops into her chair. ‘She was sitting at the kitchen table painting birds. You know, little porcelain figurines, they sell them in very expensive department stores. It earns her a few extra quid, and she also does the bookwork for her husband’s business.’
‘Is that right?’ Jack is in automatic response mode, his attention focused on something he’s reading.
‘You know, people never cease to amaze me.’ Lacey carries on talking to the back of Jack’s head. ‘Customers are still ringing her up to ask about their furniture. Perhaps they don’t read the papers. Or perhaps it’s morbid curiosity. It’s been two whole days now. That woman’s holding on by her fingernails. Not helped by Detective Inspector Fletcher being on the case. She said she had to tell him about the baby and her depression. She said it seemed to change the way they behaved towards her. I bet it did. I can’t imagine old Fletcher having any sympathy for a grieving mother. And with one death in the family already–’
Jack swings around in his chair and looks at her over the rim of his glasses. ‘So, what did you talk about?’
‘Usual stuff.’ Lacey shrugs her shoulders. ‘What she’s thinking, how she’s coping. What the police are saying.’
‘And what are they saying?’
‘Not much. Apparently, they wanted to know if anyone had been seen hanging about, any strangers, awkward customers. Did Matthew have any enemies? Routine sort of questions. While I was there, another police car pulled up outside, a woman officer this time. She said there’d been no change. Said she wanted to have a chat. In private. I had no option but to leave.’
Jack gets up from his chair and comes over to perch on the edge of her desk. ‘Look, Lacey, I’m sorry about this. I just wasn’t thinking yesterday. I should never have asked you to cover this story. You know, it’s OK if you want to drop it. I can always get someone else to deal with it. I’m sure quite a few people around here owe you a favour.’
For a moment she looks at her hands, still wearing the plain, gold ring. Then she brightens, looking up at Jack. ‘No. No way am I going to let go of this one. In fact, I have an idea.’ She scoops up her hair into a knot while she explains about Audrey Stanton and the weird things that Drew reckons go on in the Fens.
Jack thinks it might be a good idea. ‘Not exactly new, you know—it’s all been done before. Still, with this chap missing…Mind you,this story’s already
‘I don’t understand.’ Lacey is looking from one to the other.
‘All right, I’d better explain. They get crop circles here every summer. They’re so common, they’re boring. There’s an agreement among the locals and the police that we all keep quiet about it.’
‘But why?’
‘Well, why do you think? That’s what they do it for. The publicity. It’s a perverse way of getting attention by remaining anonymous. They go out in the middle of the night and destroy hundreds of pounds’ worth of unharvested grain. Then they hide behind the hedge, laughing while reporters and psychics and UFO freaks trample all over the place causing even more damage.’
‘Wanton destruction of private property,’ Bill cuts in. ‘Pure vandalism, that’s what it is.’
‘So…the farmers report it to the police, and then everybody shuts up about it.’
‘Yes, but why would people–;’
‘Because they’re brainless idiots who’ve got nothing better to do.’
‘But–’
‘No.’
It’s late in the afternoon when Lacey gets back to the Herald office. As is usual for this time of day, the reporters’ room is almost deserted. Jack’s still here, of course. I wonder if he ever sees his wife, thinks Lacey. Maybe that’s why his marriage has lasted so long. He looks up as Lacey comes in. ‘Any news of that Caxton chap?’
‘No, nothing. I’ve just come from there, been talking with his wife again.’ Lacey throws her bag on the desk and drops into her chair. ‘She was sitting at the kitchen table painting birds. You know, little porcelain figurines, they sell them in very expensive department stores. It earns her a few extra quid, and she also does the bookwork for her husband’s business.’
‘Is that right?’ Jack is in automatic response mode, his attention focused on something he’s reading.
‘You know, people never cease to amaze me.’ Lacey carries on talking to the back of Jack’s head. ‘Customers are still ringing her up to ask about their furniture. Perhaps they don’t read the papers. Or perhaps it’s morbid curiosity. It’s been two whole days now. That woman’s holding on by her fingernails. Not helped by Detective Inspector Fletcher being on the case. She said she had to tell him about the baby and her depression. She said it seemed to change the way they behaved towards her. I bet it did. I can’t imagine old Fletcher having any sympathy for a grieving mother. And with one death in the family already–’
Jack swings around in his chair and looks at her over the rim of his glasses. ‘So, what did you talk about?’
‘Usual stuff.’ Lacey shrugs her shoulders. ‘What she’s thinking, how she’s coping. What the police are saying.’
‘And what are they saying?’
‘Not much. Apparently, they wanted to know if anyone had been seen hanging about, any strangers, awkward customers. Did Matthew have any enemies? Routine sort of questions. While I was there, another police car pulled up outside, a woman officer this time. She said there’d been no change. Said she wanted to have a chat. In private. I had no option but to leave.’
Jack gets up from his chair and comes over to perch on the edge of her desk. ‘Look, Lacey, I’m sorry about this. I just wasn’t thinking yesterday. I should never have asked you to cover this story. You know, it’s OK if you want to drop it. I can always get someone else to deal with it. I’m sure quite a few people around here owe you a favour.’
For a moment she looks at her hands, still wearing the plain, gold ring. Then she brightens, looking up at Jack. ‘No. No way am I going to let go of this one. In fact, I have an idea.’ She scoops up her hair into a knot while she explains about Audrey Stanton and the weird things that Drew reckons go on in the Fens.
Jack thinks it might be a good idea. ‘Not exactly new, you know—it’s all been done before. Still, with this chap missing…Mind you,this story’s already
Similar Books
