you?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out.’
‘Why would I kill her? I didn’t even know her. Anyway, I’m out on licence so if I put a foot wrong I’m back inside and that’s
the last thing I want. You’re welcome to search this house if it helps to convince you.’
From the challenge in her voice Wesley knew that any search would prove fruitless. But the cottage was small so it didn’t
take long to go through the motions. They found nothing unusual or incriminating … not even evidence of a recent fire where
evidence could have been destroyed.
When they returned to the kitchen Lilith was still sitting motionless at the table, as though she hadn’t moved in their absence.
‘Find anything?’ she asked.
Gerry didn’t answer the question.
‘By the way, something else is missing after the break-in … apart from my Book of Shadows.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A ceremonial cloak. Black satin. It used to be worn for Wiccan ceremonies. I’ve been clearing things out and I noticed it’s
gone.’
‘You think your burglar took it?’
She shrugged as if she wasn’t sure … and didn’t really care.
‘Do you really think she’s got something to do with it?’ Wesley asked as he followed Gerry out.
The DCI stopped when they reached the car. ‘She comes back here and then someone’s stabbed in a field next door to her land.
I don’t believe in coincidences.’
Somehow Wesley didn’t share his boss’s certainty.
Gerry told Wesley to go home. All patrols were looking for Zac James and Wesley found himself hoping that the singer would
go to ground till morning and then be spotted and detained at some civilised hour.
It was almost ten by the time he reached his house and the children were still up. Amelia had refused to go to bed until her
dad’s return and Pam, after a day’s teaching, hadn’t had the strength to argue. Michael too was in his dressing gown, lolling
on the sofa watching a parade of vacuous celebrities on the TV screen, ignoring his little sister who was dancing around the
room to the beat of the music. At least, Pam said, he’d finished his homework. It was a job getting him to do anything since
he’d started in year six. All that early good behaviour and industrious learning seemed to be vanishing in the looming shadow
of adolescence. He was a bright boy, always top of his class and, after much discussion, his parents had agreed that he should
go to the nearest grammar school. But now Pam worried that he wasn’t working hard enough to pass the entrance exam.
‘I’ll have a fatherly word when I’ve got a minute,’ Wesley said. ‘I’m sure it’s just a phase.’
‘Maybe.’ Pam didn’t look convinced.
They escaped to the kitchen and Pam sat down at the round table. She pushed her shoulder length dark hair back behind her
ears and gave him a weak smile. She’d changed out of the clothes she’d worn all day at school and had put on tight jeans and
a white T-shirt that flattered her slim figure. She looked good. But she looked tired. More than tired, despondent. The cat,
Moriarty, jumped onto her lap and she put the animal back down on the floor again, ignoring its importunate meows. This was
more than just tiredness after spending a day in the classroom and then trying to coax an obdurate child to do his homework.
Something was wrong.
‘What’s the matter?’
She stood up, pushing her chair back so that it scraped loudly on the floor, setting Wesley’s teeth on edge. She walked over
to the worktop where he could see the half-full bottle of red wine they’d abandoned the evening before. She took two glasses
from the cupboard and filled them to the brim. Then she returned to the table with the glasses and slumped back in her seat.
‘I had a call from my mother.’
Wesley had never cared to use that old cliché ‘the mother-in-law from hell’ to describe Della but he had to admit she came
pretty close:
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out.’
‘Why would I kill her? I didn’t even know her. Anyway, I’m out on licence so if I put a foot wrong I’m back inside and that’s
the last thing I want. You’re welcome to search this house if it helps to convince you.’
From the challenge in her voice Wesley knew that any search would prove fruitless. But the cottage was small so it didn’t
take long to go through the motions. They found nothing unusual or incriminating … not even evidence of a recent fire where
evidence could have been destroyed.
When they returned to the kitchen Lilith was still sitting motionless at the table, as though she hadn’t moved in their absence.
‘Find anything?’ she asked.
Gerry didn’t answer the question.
‘By the way, something else is missing after the break-in … apart from my Book of Shadows.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A ceremonial cloak. Black satin. It used to be worn for Wiccan ceremonies. I’ve been clearing things out and I noticed it’s
gone.’
‘You think your burglar took it?’
She shrugged as if she wasn’t sure … and didn’t really care.
‘Do you really think she’s got something to do with it?’ Wesley asked as he followed Gerry out.
The DCI stopped when they reached the car. ‘She comes back here and then someone’s stabbed in a field next door to her land.
I don’t believe in coincidences.’
Somehow Wesley didn’t share his boss’s certainty.
Gerry told Wesley to go home. All patrols were looking for Zac James and Wesley found himself hoping that the singer would
go to ground till morning and then be spotted and detained at some civilised hour.
It was almost ten by the time he reached his house and the children were still up. Amelia had refused to go to bed until her
dad’s return and Pam, after a day’s teaching, hadn’t had the strength to argue. Michael too was in his dressing gown, lolling
on the sofa watching a parade of vacuous celebrities on the TV screen, ignoring his little sister who was dancing around the
room to the beat of the music. At least, Pam said, he’d finished his homework. It was a job getting him to do anything since
he’d started in year six. All that early good behaviour and industrious learning seemed to be vanishing in the looming shadow
of adolescence. He was a bright boy, always top of his class and, after much discussion, his parents had agreed that he should
go to the nearest grammar school. But now Pam worried that he wasn’t working hard enough to pass the entrance exam.
‘I’ll have a fatherly word when I’ve got a minute,’ Wesley said. ‘I’m sure it’s just a phase.’
‘Maybe.’ Pam didn’t look convinced.
They escaped to the kitchen and Pam sat down at the round table. She pushed her shoulder length dark hair back behind her
ears and gave him a weak smile. She’d changed out of the clothes she’d worn all day at school and had put on tight jeans and
a white T-shirt that flattered her slim figure. She looked good. But she looked tired. More than tired, despondent. The cat,
Moriarty, jumped onto her lap and she put the animal back down on the floor again, ignoring its importunate meows. This was
more than just tiredness after spending a day in the classroom and then trying to coax an obdurate child to do his homework.
Something was wrong.
‘What’s the matter?’
She stood up, pushing her chair back so that it scraped loudly on the floor, setting Wesley’s teeth on edge. She walked over
to the worktop where he could see the half-full bottle of red wine they’d abandoned the evening before. She took two glasses
from the cupboard and filled them to the brim. Then she returned to the table with the glasses and slumped back in her seat.
‘I had a call from my mother.’
Wesley had never cared to use that old cliché ‘the mother-in-law from hell’ to describe Della but he had to admit she came
pretty close:
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