Tainted Ground by Margaret Duffy Page A

all?’ I asked.
    â€˜I can’t remember them doing so.’
    â€˜Did they all go around together?’
    â€˜I saw him driving them in their car on several occasions.’
    At which point my overactive imagination kicked in and produced a quite bizarre theory. But this was not the time to air it.
    â€˜Did you go out on Thursday night?’ Patrick asked.
    â€˜Yes,’ Lorna said. ‘We went to the pub for a meal.’
    â€˜The Ring O’Bells in the village?’
    â€˜That’s right.’
    â€˜What time did you get back?’
    â€˜It was quite early – I think at about a quarter to ten.’
    â€˜No, it was much later than that,’ Lapointe interposed. ‘Around ten thirty.’
    â€˜Are you sure, darling? I thought—’
    â€˜You’ve forgotten. I wanted to see a TV programme,’ he said with an air of finality.
    The rest of the questioning was routine. Neither of them had seen any strange people during the past few days, or even weeks, the only visitor to the mill, to their knowledge, having been the boyfriend of the occupant of the other top-floor flat, Tamsin Roper. He apparently was a naval officer by the name of Owen, whom they thought had been on leave and staying with her.
    â€˜I think you will find they’ve gone to see Tamsin’s mother in Bath today,’ said Lapointe. ‘They’re taking her out to lunch as it’s her birthday.’
    â€˜And Tamsin herself told you all this?’ Lorna asked with another pout.
    â€˜Last week,’ Lapointe answered evenly but speaking quite loudly. ‘She’s our neighbour. I talk to her.’
    We left before war was declared.
    â€˜Miss Roper will have to wait,’ Patrick said as we descended the stairs.
    â€˜To whom did the cars belong?’
    He consulted the notebook. ‘The BMW belongs to the Dewittes, the Discovery to Lapointe, the Audi to the Brandons and the Ford to Tamsin Roper. They must have gone to Bath in the boyfriend’s car. So either the victims’ vehicles were stolen by whoever killed them or someone on this side of the law had them removed and forgot to mention it to Carrick.’
    â€˜Lorna doesn’t appear to have a car of her own, then?’
    â€˜Perhaps he drives her to work. It might be off the road. Who knows? We can ask her if it becomes important. Do we now go and batter Brian Stonelake for Elspeth?’
    â€˜Can I share an idea with you first?’
    â€˜Fire away.’
    â€˜The murder victims are a couple where the bloke might have been in the police, plus Keith Davies, who’s done time. Do we have a bent copper, his wife and their minder burying themselves in Somerset as things got too hot on the home patch?’
    â€˜That’s a passable theory. But why were they killed?’
    â€˜Revenge? Was Davies part of a gang? Were they all lying low because someone was out for their blood or until they could access some hidden ill-gotten gains?’
    â€˜You said something along those lines earlier but I thought you were trying to wind James up.’
    â€˜That’s the last thing I’m going to do! No, I was sort of joking in an effort to lighten the atmosphere a bit, but, on reflection, it ought to be borne in mind.’
    â€˜The bodies didn’t show any signs of violence that would suggest they had been tortured for the whereabouts of anything like that before they were killed.’
    â€˜There’s every chance they could have volunteered the information. In exchange for their lives, perhaps. Only—’ I stopped speaking, the mental images I was creating unbearable.
    â€˜We could ask Brian Stonelake if anyone’s been digging holes on his farm recently.’
    â€˜Digging holes?’ Stonelake said, giving every indication of puzzlement. ‘No, I don’t think so. Why should they? I used to get folk looking for mushrooms in the autumn and the odd metal-detector nutter,