The Fall Girl (25 page)

It was raining heavily outside. She lay there, listening to the overflow from the gutter splash on to the patio, able to stretch her legs out because Kinky wasn’t there, but for that same
reason not really enjoying the luxury.

Her mind was still playing out the drama of the previous night. The trip up the hill at midnight, in pursuit of a mysterious figure. The deafening gunshot, whistling past her ear. Did Ward
really have a fox in his sights? The more she thought about it, the more she had to admit that Milo might have been right. The questions that really needed answers were exactly as the detective had
said – why had Tyman warned Ward not to shoot? And why did Ward ignore him?

The obvious answer was that Tyman must have seen Lexy at the last second, while Ward was taking aim at an unfortunate fox. But one sometimes had to look beyond the obvious...

There was a knock at the door. Steve came in, holding a mug of tea.

“Thought you might like this.”

“Oh – thanks.”

He set the mug down on the coffee table in front of her and cast an eye over her. “You look good all rumpled up like that.”

“Behave,” said Lexy.

He smiled and left.

It was hard not to smile too.

Her next visitor was Rowana.

“Why didn’t you tell me Milo was a policeman?”

“He’s a secret policeman.” Lexy took pity at the girl’s aggrieved expression. “Look, Rowana – he’s a friend. He’s not going to prosecute you under
the Witchcraft Act.”

“I know that,” she muttered. “But I still think you might have told me.”

“Sorry.” Lexy seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

“It’s all right. You can’t help it if your boyfriend’s a policeman, I suppose.”

“He’s not actually my... ”

Rowana slipped out of the room.

Lexy fell back with a groan.

She listened to the sounds of breakfast being made, but couldn’t summon up an appetite right then. She spent some time lying in the bath first. She had bruises on top of bruises, thanks to
the events of the last couple of days.

When she went downstairs, the kitchen was empty. She made herself tea and toast, then went back to trying to make sense of the previous night’s events. She was going to have to get those
crucial questions about the shooting answered. But how?

Lexy made up her mind. She’d go down to the damned farm and ask them. Much as it irked her to confront Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid again so soon, perhaps if they were incapacitated
by injury, it might be easier to persuade one or other of them into an indiscretion.

Outside, the rain had cleared up but the skies were still grey. She glanced over at the shed as she walked down the garden path. The happy combination of hammering and
whistling was again emanating through the half-closed door.

Stopping at the bottom of the hill, she checked her phone for a signal. It was weak, but it still had a pulse. Worth a try.

“Edward?”

“Lexy!” Edward sounded manic.

“Kinky all right? Not giving you any bother is he?”

“No! No! Kinky’s... absolutely fine.” The signal was breaking up. She could hear voices in the background.

“Lexy?” Crackle. Hiss.

“Yes?”

“Peter here. Kinky’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried.” But she was now.

“Want to talk to him?”

“Eh?” Fizz. Beep. A shout.

“Only kidding. When are you back, by the way?”

“What’s he done, Peter?”

“Who?”

“Kinky. What’s he done?”

“Nothing. Couldn’t be better behaved.”

“OK.” She looked dubiously at the phone. “Perhaps I’ll try and pop in tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Right. Just give us a...” The line went dead. But not before she’d heard Edward screech “Tomorrow?” in the background.

“Great. That’s really put my mind at rest,” she muttered.

Lexy pulled the bell cord outside the farmhouse, and moments later a large, blurred shape approached the opaque side window.

Bruce looked taken aback to see Lexy.

“Oh... er... ’allo, pet.”

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check how Ward was. And er, Tyman, of course.” And grill them ’til they squeaked.

Bruce snorted. “Tyman’s in bed with a great big lump on the back of his head. Serves him right, bloody young idiot. Ward’s in the living room, with his foot in plaster.”
He frowned at her uncertainly. “You want to see him?”

“Yes, please.”

“Go on, then, you know the way.”

“Lexy.” Ward was lying on the sofa, his right foot in a cast. His eyes glittered in his pale face. “Last person I expected to see.”

“So, how are you?” she enquired coolly, perching on an armchair opposite him.

“Managed to break a bone in my ankle. I’ve been in casualty half the night waiting for someone to set it.” His lips twitched. “I suppose you reckon I deserve
it.”

“Depends, really,” said Lexy.

“On what?”

“On what you were really doing up there last night.”

Bruce poked his head around the door. “Tea?”

“Oh... er... yes, thanks,” said Lexy.

“Not for me.” Ward shifted, wincing.

They heard the sound of crockery being rattled.

“I told you what happened,” Ward said. “I... ”

He was interrupted by a shout from upstairs, followed by an exclamation from the kitchen. Bruce’s head appeared again.

“Need to go and see to his lordship. Would you mind doing the honours with the brew, love?”

Lexy got up and went into the Gallimores’ shiny kitchen.

A mug was sitting on the worktop, with a teabag brewing in it. She opened the fridge to look for milk and was confronted by three enormous raw steaks on a platter. Had Edgar the bull met his
end? With a shudder, Lexy added two sugars to her tea, squeezed out the teabag and took it through.

“You were saying,” she prompted Ward.

“Like I told you. We were out after foxes, and you got in the way. Simple as that.”

“Why was it only you with a gun then? And how come I didn’t hear any shots until you fired it at me?”

He hesitated. “I was on my own up there, all right? Tyman came to find me, to talk me out of doing it.” His voice was low, eyes preoccupied. “My brother’s softer than I
am where animals are concerned. He showed up just as I was taking my first aim.”

“And this is the delicate soul who turns into Mr Hyde when he’s on his own with a woman?”

Ward wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“So that’s why you ignored him when he told you not to shoot?”

“Yes. Neither of us saw you until I’d fired.” But he was still looking away.

“The other day Mrs Mangeot told me that you lot would have trouble humanely destroying a hen. Are you sure shooting foxes is your style?”

“Is that what she said? Good old Mangeot. Listen, we’ve got sheep out on the hill.”

“Have you?”

Again, he hesitated. “Yes.” He was lying. Why?

“I’ve never seen any.”

“I can assure you we...”

Ward was interrupted again by a shout from outside the door. It was Tyman this time.

“Hey! She’s here! I saw her coming down the track from Four Winds!”

“Oi – I told you to calm down.” Bruce’s voice rang out sharply, followed by muffled conversation.

Ward closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa.

“What was all that about?” Lexy demanded.

“I think Tyman must be pleased you’ve come to see us. As well he might be.”

She stared at him. “Yeah, all right. I’m going now.”

Ward sat up again. “No – hang on a minute...”

Shaking her head, Lexy went through to the hall. Must be the medication.

She heard voices in the kitchen, and without really thinking what she was doing, Lexy slipped into a downstairs cloakroom and pulled the door almost closed. As she watched through the crack,
Tyman appeared, looking as spaced out as Ward, a smile spreading across his face. Chivvied by Bruce, he went back upstairs. After a minute, Lexy came out of the cloakroom, walked quietly to the
bottom of the stairs, then went up. Time to talk to laughing boy.

She already knew which was Ward’s bedroom. Lexy put her head around the room next door to it. Empty, the bed roughly made up. She walked down a small corridor, following the sound of a
television, and tapped on the door at the end.

“Yes?” came Tyman’s voice.

“Surprise.” Lexy walked in.

He was sitting on the bed, wearing what she’d just seen him in, black track suit bottoms and a t-shirt.

“Lexy!” He pointed a remote at the TV, and killed the sound. “What are you... ?”

“Doing here?” Lexy gave him a crocodile smile. “Came to see how you are, Tyman.”

“Bit of a bump.” He pointed to his head. “Otherwise OK. Better than OK, actually. You?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just can’t quite work out what happened up there last night.” She sat on a chair, after first moving a pile of clothes.

Tyman watched her. “Well,” he began, “it was like we said. Ward and I were up there shooting foxes...”

“You’re not a fan of the fox, then?”

“Well... no. Not... as such. I mean... ”

“Must have been quite a shock when I popped up just as Ward was about to blast Basil Brush into oblivion.”

“’Course it was.”

“You actually saw me then?”

“Ye...es.”

He hadn’t seen her.

“And you shouted to Ward not to shoot?”

“Yeah. What is this, Lexy? I’m not really up to the Spanish Inquisition at the moment.”

“You looked pretty happy when you were downstairs just now.”

Tyman started. “You... er... saw me, did you? I was just stretching my legs. I get really bad cramp.”

She nodded.

“Lexy... ” Tyman frowned. “Where did you get to yesterday morning? After you ran up the hill? I looked everywhere for you. Thought you’d been abducted by aliens, you
disappeared so quickly.”

“I got abducted, all right,” Lexy muttered.

“Sorry?”

“Just... try asking your brother, Tyman.”

“Everything all right?” Bruce appeared in the doorway. “Oh, you’re in ’ere now, are you?” He goggled at Lexy.

She stood up. “Just going, actually. Thanks, Tyman. You’ve been very helpful.”

Tyman was still looking mystified.

“My brother? What’s he got to do with it?”

When Lexy got back to Four Winds, she found that Steve had rolled the absurd-looking little red car from the shed on to the lawn, and was lying with his head under it.

“Accident in Toytown?" she called, crossing the lawn.

He eased his way out.

“Reckon it hasn’t been driven since 1990." He showed Lexy the tax disc.

“Perhaps it belonged to Elizabeth’s husband," she said, examining it. "He must have died at around that time.”

Steve’s face darkened. "Robert," he said, with a glance towards the cottage. "Never occurred to me it might have been his.”

“Did you know him?"

“We met.”

“But you didn’t get on, I’m sensing?”

He shook his head. "He lived for the army. I didn’t have a lot in common with him.”

“Surprised Elizabeth did."

“She didn’t. Main problem was that Robert didn’t want kids, and he didn’t want a divorce, either. He was moving up through the ranks, and a marital split wouldn’t
have helped his case.”

“Can’t have been easy for her."

Steve took his time before answering. "No.”

“Want anything from the shop?" Lexy asked. "I’m just going down there for a paper." And perhaps she’d get a couple of bottles of wine, too, because Lexy had a vague picture in
her head of later on that evening, which involved herself, Steve and a couple of bottles of wine.

“Rowana might. She’s cooking tonight.”

“I need a few things for this curry I’m doing," Rowana confirmed, when Lexy put her head around the kitchen door. She reeled off a list of ingredients.

“I’m not sure cardamom pods have reached Nodmore.” Lexy fumbled in her jacket pocket for a pen. “Or quinces.”

Lexy was thoughtful as she got into her car and set off down the tree-canopied track. On top of the continuing peculiarity of the Gallimores, there was that little nugget from Steve.

Elizabeth, stuck in a loveless, childless marriage, with no hope of a divorce. A small part of her must have been relieved when her husband released her from this predicament by dying in action.
It would have been her chance to start again. Lexy wondered why she hadn’t.

“What do you think, Kinky?” It wasn’t until the words were out of her mouth that Lexy realised her sidekick wasn’t sitting in the passenger seat. And remembered why.

After she turned out of the farm gate, she checked in her rear view mirror at frequent intervals. No sign of a black BMW containing a perma-tanned nutter with a long-handled wrench. That was
good. But Lexy wondered about the wisdom of venturing out in her rather distinctive car while Gerard was still at large. He might have his spies out.

Just outside Nodmore, she turned into a side road and parked out of sight of the main thoroughfare – although to call the one-track lane that passed through the village a thoroughfare
might have given it an over-inflated sense of its own worth.

Lexy walked the few hundred yards to the village centre, pushed open the door to the shop and braced herself.

Behind the counter, Maureen’s head jerked up. She was serving someone.

“... well, it meant I sold a few more papers than usual, didn’t it, luvver?”

“So, all was not lost.” The answering voice was gravelly.

“Exactly. And you know what they say. Today’s news is tomorrow’s fish and chip wrapper. Soon be forgotten.”

“Don’t say that, Mo – I’m enjoying the infamy. Raised the price of my paintings by twenty per cent. Perhaps next time I’ll deck someone really famous.” This
was followed by a rich smoker’s cough.

It was Archer Trevino. Just the person she wanted to meet. Lexy rushed around the shop, chucking items into her wire basket.

The two of them were still conversing when she got to the counter.

“All right, moi luvver? Still up at Four Winds Cottage, are you?”

Maureen was showing off her gossip acumen. It certainly had an effect on Archer. He turned sharply to Lexy. Up close, his face was battle-worn, his silver hair unkempt. He held a bottle of
whisky in each hand.