The Woman In Blue: The Dr Ruth Galloway Mysteries 8 (11 page)

Tim appears as Nelson is looking under the bonnet.

‘Is it the battery? I’ve got jump leads in my car.’

‘No, it’s not the battery. I think the starter motor’s gone. Can’t believe it. I’ve had this car ten years with no trouble.’

‘Do you want me to drive you home?’ says Tim. ‘You can get the AA to pick it up.’

‘Don’t worry,’ says Nelson. ‘I’ll call Michelle. She’s not far away. She just texted to say she was leaving the salon.’

‘I’ll wait with you,’ says Tim. ‘Keep you company.’

Nelson would have thought that Tim had better things to do of an evening than wait in a car with his boss. But he supposes it’s a kindly thought.

‘All right then,’ he says, somewhat ungraciously. ‘As long as we don’t have to play I Spy.’

Chapter 15

When their table is ready, the party repairs to the dining area. As soon as they sit down Hilary orders some wine: ‘A bottle of each.’ Ruth starts to get nervous. What are her chances of leaving at nine now? She puts in a plea for some water.

‘You can have a glass of wine, surely?’ says Hilary.

‘I’d rather not drink at all,’ says Ruth. ‘The roads round here are so dark at night.’

‘Do you live near here?’ asks Sydney.

‘About ten minutes’ drive away.’

‘But there’s nothing here!’ Sydney waves a rather uncoordinated arm towards the window, which is completely black, no street lights, no signs of human habitation. But Ruth knows that out there are the marshes, that treacherous zone between land and sea. There are other things too: sea spirits (according to Cathbad), archaeological treasures (to Ruth’s certain knowledge) and endless layers of the past compressed into the uncertain, peaty soil. She doesn’t feel able to explain this to the table full of priests.

‘I live on New Road,’ she says. ‘There are two other houses there.’ She doesn’t add that one is owned by weekenders who seldom visit their holiday home, and the other is occupied by a nomadic poet, currently on a tour of New Zealand.

‘Don’t you get lonely?’ asks Paula. She doesn’t say it in a judgemental way, rather as if she really wants to know. In return Ruth tries to give an honest answer. ‘It’s lonely sometimes, but I love the landscape and most of the time I like my own company. It’s crowded places that make me nervous, not being on my own. Besides I’ve got Kate and Flint, my cat. Friends visit, my brother comes with his sons in the summer. It’s beautiful in the summer.’

‘I know,’ says Paula, ‘I spent some time here as a child. I remember swimming at Wells-next-the-Sea. The miles of sand and the little railway.’

‘My daughter Kate loves that train,’ says Ruth.

‘It’s an ungodly place to my mind,’ says a woman called Freya. Ruth has already marked her out as the most ascetic of the women. She has a pinched, intense face, and is the only one, apart from Ruth, to be drinking water.

‘How can you say that?’ says Paula. ‘Look at lovely Walsingham, the most holy place in England.’

‘There’s still a pagan feel to it,’ says Freya. ‘They say that there are a lot of those New Age thinkers in Norfolk.’

There certainly are, thinks Ruth. She could put Freya in touch with a fully-fledged druid in one easy phone call. Aloud she says, ‘Well, archaeologists think Walsingham was a pagan shrine first, probably sacred to the Roman god Mercury. When they did an archaeological dig they found quite a few relics from that time, including a bronze figure of Mercury.’

‘That’s what I mean,’ says Freya. ‘It has an unwholesome feel.’

‘Doesn’t that just mean that people have worshipped there for thousands of years?’ says Ruth. ‘I’m not a Christian, but I would have thought that made it more special.’

‘You sound like Erik,’ says Hilary, with a smile. ‘The sacred landscape.’

‘Well, he was very knowledgeable,’ says Ruth. And completely mad, she adds to herself.

‘Who’s Erik?’ asks Freya, rather rudely, Ruth thinks.

‘Our tutor at university,’ says Hilary. ‘Now who’s having red?’

*

‘So then I took the graduate fast-track course . . .’

Nelson tries to suppress a yawn. He supposes it is kind of Tim to stay while they wait for Michelle, but really he would have preferred to sit on his own in the car with the radio playing undemanding drive-time music. Instead of which, he is having to listen to what sounds like Tim’s life story. Who knew the self-contained Tim could talk so much?

‘So how did you get into the force?’ Tim is asking.

‘Joined as a cadet at sixteen,’ says Nelson. He sees, with relief, that he has a call from Michelle. He clicks on the green ‘accept’ button.

‘Hallo, love. Where are you? Oh, we’re the other side, by the high street. I’m with young Tim. No, that’s OK, I’ll come to you. It’s just through the graveyard. I know. That’s Walsingham for you.’

He turns to Tim. ‘That was Michelle. She’s parked in front of the church. I’m going to meet her now. Thanks for stopping.’

Tim gets out of the car, then he stands there, in the street, looking uncertain.

‘Bye, now,’ says Nelson firmly.

He takes the quickest route, via the passageway under Justin’s house. His hand is on the lych-gate at the end when a terrible scream fills the air. A woman’s scream. Michelle’s scream.

‘Michelle!’ Nelson starts running, but he is knocked aside by someone rushing past him. Someone also shouting ‘Michelle!’

*

Nelson used to be a fast runner, but he’s older and heavier now. He runs blindly, stumbling over gravestones and cursing. By the time he reaches Doreen Westmondham’s gravestone he finds his wife lying on the ground, sobbing in Tim’s arms.

‘Michelle! What happened?’

Michelle looks up at him. Her face looks white in the darkness, almost luminous. She starts to say something about someone attacking her from behind, but Nelson is distracted by Tim, who seems to be saying, ‘Darling, are you hurt?’

‘Why the fuck are you calling my wife darling?’

Tim stands up and Nelson thinks he hears him say ‘Sorry’. But there’s no time to give shape to the thoughts that are crowding, unwelcomed, into his head. Michelle stretches out her hand to him. ‘Harry?’

Nelson helps his wife to her feet. He tries to force himself to think clearly.

‘What happened?’

‘I decided to come to meet you. You said through the graveyard. It was so dark I stopped to put on my torch app. Then someone . . .’ She stops, breathing hard.

‘Someone?’

‘Someone grabbed me by the throat. He . . . he pushed me to the ground. He was standing over me and he leant forward as if he was about to strangle me. Then I screamed and he ran away.’

Nelson turns to Tim. ‘Don’t just stand there. Get on to all units. Looks like this is our man and he might not be far away. Search the church and the grounds. Get one of the dog-handlers out.’

‘Yes, boss.’ They listen to Tim’s footsteps retreating and Nelson says, ‘Did you get a good look at the man?’

‘No. It was dark and it all happened so quickly.’

‘You’re sure it was a man?’

‘Yes. He seemed so strong and he smelt like a man.’

Nelson knows that Michelle is famous for her sense of smell.

‘What did he smell of?’

‘BO and soap and something else. Something like those sticks you burn.’

‘Joss sticks?’

‘Yes, something like that.’

Michelle is shaking. Nelson puts his arm round her. She is only wearing a thin jacket and she seems smaller than usual. Her hair has come loose from its complicated plait.

‘I’ve lost my shoes. And I dropped my phone.’

‘Let’s get you to the car, and I’ll come back with a torch.’ He has a good solid one in his car, useful as a weapon too.

They walk back through the lych-gate and the dark passageway, Michelle leaning heavily on him. He thinks that she’s crying. He helps her into the Mercedes and gives her his phone. ‘Lock the doors. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He hears Tim radioing all units from his car. The silent village will soon be waking up.

He soon finds Michelle’s high-heeled shoes and her iPhone. Then he swings the torch’s powerful beam round the graveyard. The stones lean towards each other, as if they have just stopped moving, but there is not a living soul to be seen. He tries the church door. It’s still locked. He remembers Larry Westmondham walking off into the night, whistling. Where is the vicar now?

As he heads back through the passageway he sees flashing lights. That was quick. He takes back everything he has ever said about the control room; this is impressive. They might even be in time to catch the attacker. Then the lights stop beside his Mercedes and a voice says, ‘Did you call the AA?’

‘Yes.’ Nelson steps forward. ‘It’s this car here. Think it’s the starter motor.’

He opens the door and gives Michelle her shoes. ‘I need to stay here. I’ll get a car to drive you home.’

‘I can drive myself.’

‘Are you sure?’ He ought not to let her, but it would be awkward to have both their cars stuck in Walsingham.

‘Yes. I just want to get home.’

‘Call me when you get in. And take off the clothes you’re wearing and put them in a sealed plastic bag. We ought to get a doctor to look at you too.’

‘I don’t want a doctor.’

‘It’s for evidence. I’ll get the on-call police doctor.’

‘Not that Chris Stephenson please.’

‘No. I’ll make sure it’s a woman. I’ll walk you back to your car.’

As they walk back round to the front of the church they see more flashing lights. Back-up has arrived. Nelson has to get to work.

Michelle gets into her car. ‘Remember, call me when you get home,’ says Nelson.

‘I will.’ She turns to him. ‘Harry. About Tim . . .’

‘We’ll talk later.’ And he heads off towards the squad cars.

*

The table is getting raucous. They have finished the main course and every woman apart from Freya and Ruth is having pudding and a liqueur. Well, Ruth is only having pudding, but she makes up for it by choosing the most fattening thing on the menu, chocolate cake with home-made toffee ice cream. The priests are talking about the course, about someone called Robin and a ‘dishy bish’ called Peter.

‘There’ll never be a woman bishop,’ says someone rather woozily.

‘Yes there will,’ says Hilary firmly. ‘After all, they already have them in America.’

‘The synod will vote yes,’ says Freya. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘But there’ll be people who will vote against,’ says Paula, ‘so the Church will be divided. That makes me really sad.’

‘Why do you want to be bishops?’ asks Ruth. Her question came out louder than intended. ‘I mean, what can a bishop do that a priest can’t?’

‘It’s the purple,’ says Sydney. ‘Such a lovely colour.’

‘It’s a matter of principle,’ says Hilary. ‘Imagine if someone said to you that, however hard you worked, you could never be head of department. How would that make you feel?’

Effectively this is what Phil has already said, but Ruth takes the point.

‘You’re brave to keep persevering in the face of so much opposition,’ she says. ‘I don’t know if I could.’

‘Oh, you would,’ says Hilary. ‘I know you, Ruth. You never give up when you really want something.’

She’s looking at Ruth rather hard, which is uncomfortable. What’s she getting at?

‘Hilary told us about the letters that were sent to her,’ says Paula. ‘It’s awful to think that people hate us so much.’

It’s the first time that anyone has mentioned the letters. Ruth, who didn’t want to be the first to bring the subject up, asks, ‘Have any of you had similar letters?’

A chorus of voices answers her. From what she can make out, although almost all the women have had abusive letters about women priests, none of them have been the victim of a sustained campaign like Hilary.

‘I feel sorry for the letter-writer,’ says Paula. ‘He’s a soul in torment really.’

‘I feel compassion for him,’ says Hilary, which is not the same as feeling sorry for him. ‘I just wish he would leave me alone.’

‘No one smelts a feeble metal,’ says Freya. ‘If God gives you trials it’s because He knows you can survive them. You are being tested as fire tests and purifies gold.’

‘Peter 1:7.’ Hilary supplies the reference briskly. ‘Well, I think I’ve been tested enough. Who’s having another drink?’

Ruth looks at her watch. God, how is it already nearly eleven?

‘I’ve got to get home,’ she says.

*

In Walsingham, lights are flashing and the road has been sealed off. Some inhabitants have come out of their houses to see what’s going on, but, mostly, blinds remain drawn and doors remain closed. Tim is organising door-to-door enquiries. He’s keeping out of Nelson’s way, and Nelson is glad of this. He’s more relieved than he can say to see Clough striding towards him, crumpling a chocolate wrapper in his hand.

‘What happened, boss?’

‘Michelle was attacked in the graveyard. We think it’s likely to be the same person that killed Chloe.’

‘Same time, same place,’ says Clough. ‘And Michelle and Chloe look an awful lot alike.’

You can always rely on Clough to say the obvious. It’s quite comforting really.

‘Is Fuller with you?’ Nelson asks.

‘Are you joking? Couldn’t keep her away from something like this.’

‘I want her to go to see Michelle and get a proper statement. Also we need a doctor to see her.’

‘Don’t you want to get back to her?’

‘No. I’m needed here.’ Nelson looks at his phone. A text message from Michelle flashes up. One word: ‘
Home’
. ‘Michelle’s home,’ he tells Clough. ‘She’s fine. Just get Fuller over there, will you?’

He thinks that Clough is looking at him oddly. ‘OK, boss.’

‘DCI Nelson?’ Nelson is glad to see a handler and her dog coming towards him. He recognises the woman as Jan Adams, famous in Norfolk for having won several medals for bravery. Her dog, a beautiful long-haired German Shepherd, is a bit of a celebrity too. What was his name again?

‘Barney,’ says Jan, in answer to his question. ‘What’s going on?’

Nelson explains about the attack. Barney looks at him, head on one side, as if he too might be about to ask a question.

‘So I need you to look in the graveyard. See if our attacker dropped anything.’ He knows that police dogs are trained to search out evidence but not to touch it. They sit by it until it can be seized by someone wearing gloves. He wishes his team were as meticulous. ‘It’s pretty dark, I’m afraid.’

‘Dogs work better at night,’ says Jan. ‘Fewer distractions, fewer people to contaminate the scene.’

‘Can you search the lane and the surrounding area?’ says Nelson. ‘He can’t have gone far.’

‘Perpetrators normally hide somewhere quite close,’ says Jan. ‘They wait until they think the police have gone away. But if he’s nearby, we’ll find him.’

Barney nods intelligently. Nelson can see Tim coming towards him. He wishes that he could carry on talking to Jan and her dog, but he knows that he has to get on with the investigation. He says goodbye and watches as Jan and Barney disappear through the lych-gate. Then he turns to face his sergeant.