and concerned. ‘She’s so
young
,’ she breathed. ‘Poor thing. Now tell me everything you know.’
It turned out to be a very threadbare story, with Thea too stunned to recall details. She repeated what she had told the boy with the G5. ‘She’s called Melissa, and she keeps a lot of her possessions in a back room here. The owner is her uncle – Oliver Meadows. His brother is Fraser, and he’s her father. She comes and gets things regularly. Clothes, mostly. She’s got a flat in Oxford. She travels a lot for her work, and was due in Stoke today. Or perhaps it was tomorrow. She took a memory stick out of one of the boxes.’
‘Where is Oliver Meadows now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who was the woman meeting in a pub?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who’s her mother?’
‘I don’t know.’
The memory stick was nowhere in evidence; Melissa did not have a mobile phone on her; her car had not been located. Gladwin sighed.
‘At least you might have something on the camera,’ Thea offered.
‘Camera?’
‘Oh, I forgot to say. There’s a video camera in the hide. It works automatically, filming all day, until the battery runs down.’
‘Good God. And what time did it run down last night?’
‘I don’t know. I’m supposed to replace it every morning. The battery, I mean. And the little card. It might have everything you need on it.’
‘Come and show me.’
The little clearing was full of people, as well as the gazebo-style tent erected over the actual body. ‘It looks as if she was garotted,’ Gladwin confided to Thea. ‘At least it was quick. Somebody really meant business.’
Thea was not consoled. She fingered her own neck, reminded of what a very vulnerable area of the body it was. People could all too easily do themselves a fatal damage by carelessly winding a tight ligature around their throat. Suicidal prisoners did it; small children got themselves tangled in string and cord; men seekingextreme sexual thrills went too far; the heart stopped long before suffocation, if pressure was applied to a certain spot. Did the killer know that, or did they assume their victim would slowly strangle?
‘She was so
blithe
,’ Thea mourned. ‘Full of life. It doesn’t seem possible.’
‘Camera,’ Gladwin prompted.
Police people had been into the hide, but had not removed anything. If they saw the camera, nobody had made the obvious deduction. ‘They’d have thought it was only activated when the owner was here,’ Gladwin supposed. ‘It’s not the usual CCTV arrangement.’
To Thea’s ignorant eye, it seemed very much the same thing, but she refrained from comment. She was worrying about her mother, and Oliver’s birds and the whole miserable business of murder.
‘I can’t get hold of my mother,’ she whined. ‘She and Fraser will be here in an hour or two if I can’t avert them.’
‘Why would you try? We’ll need him to identify the body, anyway. I could accuse you of interfering in a police investigation, if you’re not careful. It seems to me it’s all rather convenient the way it’s going.’
‘You don’t know my mother,’ Thea gloomed. ‘I’m going to have to
deal
with her.’
‘Come on. She’ll be company for you, a distraction. Once this lot’s tidied away, you can get on with it here. At least …’
‘Precisely. You’ll have to find Oliver and probably bring him back. I won’t be needed any more.’
‘I can’t believe you let him go off without leaving any contact details. What sort of a house-sitter does that?’
‘I know. It was all such a rush. I never even managed to ask him. His brother probably knows where he is,’ she added hopefully. ‘This was all his idea, indirectly, I think. My mother thought it would be a neat solution – sort of win-win, with Oliver getting away and me getting some work. I had a sort of feeling that I was their proxy – that if I hadn’t agreed to it, they might have come here instead.’
‘So why
young
,’ she breathed. ‘Poor thing. Now tell me everything you know.’
It turned out to be a very threadbare story, with Thea too stunned to recall details. She repeated what she had told the boy with the G5. ‘She’s called Melissa, and she keeps a lot of her possessions in a back room here. The owner is her uncle – Oliver Meadows. His brother is Fraser, and he’s her father. She comes and gets things regularly. Clothes, mostly. She’s got a flat in Oxford. She travels a lot for her work, and was due in Stoke today. Or perhaps it was tomorrow. She took a memory stick out of one of the boxes.’
‘Where is Oliver Meadows now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who was the woman meeting in a pub?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who’s her mother?’
‘I don’t know.’
The memory stick was nowhere in evidence; Melissa did not have a mobile phone on her; her car had not been located. Gladwin sighed.
‘At least you might have something on the camera,’ Thea offered.
‘Camera?’
‘Oh, I forgot to say. There’s a video camera in the hide. It works automatically, filming all day, until the battery runs down.’
‘Good God. And what time did it run down last night?’
‘I don’t know. I’m supposed to replace it every morning. The battery, I mean. And the little card. It might have everything you need on it.’
‘Come and show me.’
The little clearing was full of people, as well as the gazebo-style tent erected over the actual body. ‘It looks as if she was garotted,’ Gladwin confided to Thea. ‘At least it was quick. Somebody really meant business.’
Thea was not consoled. She fingered her own neck, reminded of what a very vulnerable area of the body it was. People could all too easily do themselves a fatal damage by carelessly winding a tight ligature around their throat. Suicidal prisoners did it; small children got themselves tangled in string and cord; men seekingextreme sexual thrills went too far; the heart stopped long before suffocation, if pressure was applied to a certain spot. Did the killer know that, or did they assume their victim would slowly strangle?
‘She was so
blithe
,’ Thea mourned. ‘Full of life. It doesn’t seem possible.’
‘Camera,’ Gladwin prompted.
Police people had been into the hide, but had not removed anything. If they saw the camera, nobody had made the obvious deduction. ‘They’d have thought it was only activated when the owner was here,’ Gladwin supposed. ‘It’s not the usual CCTV arrangement.’
To Thea’s ignorant eye, it seemed very much the same thing, but she refrained from comment. She was worrying about her mother, and Oliver’s birds and the whole miserable business of murder.
‘I can’t get hold of my mother,’ she whined. ‘She and Fraser will be here in an hour or two if I can’t avert them.’
‘Why would you try? We’ll need him to identify the body, anyway. I could accuse you of interfering in a police investigation, if you’re not careful. It seems to me it’s all rather convenient the way it’s going.’
‘You don’t know my mother,’ Thea gloomed. ‘I’m going to have to
deal
with her.’
‘Come on. She’ll be company for you, a distraction. Once this lot’s tidied away, you can get on with it here. At least …’
‘Precisely. You’ll have to find Oliver and probably bring him back. I won’t be needed any more.’
‘I can’t believe you let him go off without leaving any contact details. What sort of a house-sitter does that?’
‘I know. It was all such a rush. I never even managed to ask him. His brother probably knows where he is,’ she added hopefully. ‘This was all his idea, indirectly, I think. My mother thought it would be a neat solution – sort of win-win, with Oliver getting away and me getting some work. I had a sort of feeling that I was their proxy – that if I hadn’t agreed to it, they might have come here instead.’
‘So why
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