Scimitar (A Kate Redman Mystery Page 2

  Her phone beeped again, and she rolled away and grabbed for it. Ignoring Anderton’s sigh, she saw the text message notification from Chloe and burst into tears.

  “What is it? What’s happened?” Anderton’s voice was alarmed.

  Kate held out the phone to him, her hand shaking. Chloe’s message was brief, but it was all Kate needed to breathe again.

  I’m okay. Can’t talk now. Let the others know.

  Chapter Two

  By some heroic effort, Kate stopped herself from ringing Chloe’s mobile the next morning. She couldn’t stop herself from sending another text asking if her friend was okay, but she received no response. As she readied herself for work, swigging coffee and trying to avoid tripping over her cat, Merlin, she kept telling herself that she hadn’t imagined that message. She fetched her phone to check again. Chloe had contacted her last night, that was definite.

  Anderton, wrapped in a dressing gown, took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face the front door. “I’ll call Chloe,” he said, gently but firmly. “You need to get to work.”

  “I know.” Kate turned back to give him a hurried kiss. “Please do. I’m still worried.”

  “We all are. I’ll talk to her and I’ll call you immediately afterwards. Okay?”

  “Okay. Can you feed Merlin?”

  “Of course. Don’t worry. Off you go.”

  It was a beautiful day in autumn, hot and golden, sunlight pouring from the cloudless blue sky. Kate rolled down the driver-side window in the car but was still uncomfortably warm. After five minutes, she pulled over into a bus stop and shrugged off her jacket and pulled her long hair into a high ponytail.

  She normally drove with the radio on, tuned to the news channels, but today she switched it off. She wasn’t sure she could bear to hear any more about the attack. Unable to stop thinking about it anyway, she began to worry afresh about her friend. If Chloe was okay, why was she not contacting Kate or anybody else? For a moment, Kate considered pulling over and calling her again; to hell with ‘can’t talk now’. But, after a second thought, she drove on. Anderton would call Chloe and he would call her. Kate set her teeth and tried to switch her train of thought onto another line.

  She was unsurprised to find Martin, DS Theo Marsh and DS Rav Cheetam avidly discussing the attack when she got to the office. They pounced on Kate as she dropped her handbag on the top of her desk.

  “So, what’s happening with Chloe?”

  “I don’t know, Rav. I don’t know anything other than that she’s okay. She’s not answering her phone.”

  “I’ve been trying to call her, it’s just going to voicemail.” Theo chewed his nails. “Although that probably just means her phone’s out of battery.”

  “Anderton said he’d call her and call me. Just be patient,” Kate said, thinking how ironic it was to be giving that advice given her fretting on the way over.

  “What—” Martin began but the ringing of the phone on his desk interrupted him. While he answered it, Kate checked her mobile, hoping to see some sort of message from Anderton. There was nothing.

  She was so oblivious to Martin’s conversation, concentrating as she was on her phone, that she started as he put the phone back in its holder and turned to face her and Theo. There was a familiar look on his face. Kate sighed.

  “One for us?”

  “Afraid so. They’ve found a body in the grounds of Bucklesbury House.”

  “Where?” Theo was frowning.

  Kate knew it. “You know, that big National Trust place. On the way to Bristol.” Theo’s frown remained. Kate wasn’t capable at that moment of giggling, but it was funny—Theo was a little bit too young and cool to be a National Trust member. Kate, on the other hand, had had membership since she was twenty.

  Rav was busy closing down various web pages on his computer. “It’s up to Mark who goes, isn’t it?”

  As one, they turned towards the office of Detective Chief Inspector Mark Olbeck, currently heading the department after the departure of DCI Nicola Weaver, who’d relocated to Bristol. Thinking of the recent DCI, Kate turned her eyes to Theo, who had been dating Nicola for several months now. Despite the fourteen-year age gap, things seemed to be working out quite satisfactorily, if the few after-work drinks and conversations Kate had had with Theo were anything to go by. Not that it was at all relevant to what was happening now… Kate snapped her attention back to the present. “Where is Mark?”

  As if on cue, DCI Olbeck panted into the room, brushing at a milky stain on the shoulder of his shirt. “Sorry, sorry, everyone. Got caught up. What’s happening?”

  Kate gave him an affectionate glance. Ever since Olbeck and his husband Jeff had adopted a sibling pair of young children, his late entrances and dishevelled appearances had become legendary. She let Martin fill him in on the latest development.

  “In the grounds of Bucklesbury House?” Olbeck frowned, echoing Theo’s facial expression. “That’s odd. Very odd. Any more news?”

  “Cause of death looks as though it’s from stab wounds, apparently.” Martin regarded the notes he’d made. “That’s not official, obviously, the doctors still have to pronounce it. But apparently, it’s pretty obvious that’s how he died. Male victim, late twenties, no ID as yet.”

  Olbeck rubbed his chin. “Makes it even weirder. Young male victim, in the grounds of a stately home?” He appeared to shake himself. “Right, Kate, can you go? You can pick your passenger. I’ve got to head to a meeting. Someone needs to stay here to man the ropes—I’ll leave it up to you.”

  He headed for his office, leaving Kate with the awkward task of choosing between Theo, Rav and Martin, all of whom she liked immensely, all of whom were perfectly competent detectives. “Ok, guys, who wants to come and who wants to stay?”

  Rav surprised her. “Actually, I’ll stay. I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to get through.”

  “Haven’t we all?” asked Kate in a wry tone, but she smiled as she said it. “Ok, Theo, you’re with me. Actually—” She considered for a moment. “Martin, can you come too? Only if you’re not working on anything more urgent?”

  “Well, there’s that attempted abduction—”

  Kate recalled it, the teenage girl who’d been attacked late at night last week but had somehow managed to fight off her attacker and escape. “Oh, yes, of course. Right. You carry on with that then, Martin.” He inclined his head in acquiescence; Martin wasn’t one to waste words. “Right, young Theo, you’re with me.”

  “I’m not that bloody young.”

  “No, true.” Christ, I sound like Anderton.

  Theo looked hopeful. “Am I driving?”

  “As long as I get ownership of the CD player.”

  Theo was a bold but accomplished driver, and they were soon out of Abbeyford, heading for Bucklesbury House. Kate’s phone rang just as they joined the dual carriage way that led to Bristol. It was Anderton.

  Kate’s stomach clenched as she answered it. “What’s the news?”

  Anderton sounded very solemn. “Chloe’s fine. She’s got a few scratches and bruises, but she’s fine.”

  Kate gasped. “So, she was caught up in it?”

  “Yes.” She could hear Anderton take a deep breath. “I’ve got some bad news.”

  Kate’s stomach squeezed again. She took a breath deep enough for Theo to look over at her in concern. “What is it?”

  “Chloe’s boyfriend, Roman…he died. He was killed.”

  “Oh my god.” Kate closed her eyes, feeling the pulse of her blood, the thump of her heart. Roman’s dead. She had barely known him—had only met him twice—but the thought of what Chloe must be going through made her want to cry.

  Anderton was still talking, and Kate tried to bring herself back to reality, listening to what he was saying. “Obviously, Mark can sign her off on sick leave, compassionate leave, w
hatever. She’s going to her mum’s place for now. I told her you would call her.”

  Kate swallowed hard against the blockage in her throat. “Yes. Yes, of course I will.”

  “Won’t that leave you short-staffed?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” What did matter? Faced with the death of someone Kate had known, if only briefly, what did matter?

  She had a feeling Anderton could sense that. He had become rather emotionally intelligent since leaving the Abbeyford force. “Ok, darling. I know it’s a lot to take it at the moment. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

  “Love you too.” Kate ended the call hardly knowing what she was doing.

  Theo kept glancing over at her. “Keep your eyes on the road,” Kate said, automatically.

  “Is Chloe okay?”

  Kate chastised herself. Of course Theo would be worried; he was Chloe’s friend as much as she was hers. “She’s okay, she’s fine.” She gulped and went on. “Roman—you know, her boyfriend—” Her voice failed for a moment. “He died.”

  “Shit.” The car swerved a little on the road. “Shit. Poor Chloe.”

  “I know.” Kate’s throat ached with unshed tears. “Can we… Theo, can we just concentrate on work at the moment, please?”

  Theo cast her another worried glance. “Yeah, yeah. Shit, though. Those fuckers.”

  Kate didn’t need him to elaborate which fuckers he meant. They both knew. She swallowed painfully, turning her gaze out of the window. Theo said nothing more, but he took her hand for a moment, lacing his fingers with hers, and Kate squeezed his hand back, gratefully.

  Chapter Three

  Bucklesbury House was a Tudor house that had been extensively ‘Georgianised’. As they drove over the cattle grid and into the grounds, Kate recalled that the house had been filmed as part of a BBC costume drama a few years ago. The house looked magnificent, golden stone and regulated windows reflecting the cloudless blue sky. The lawn in front of the house was cropped short, looking like plush green velvet.

  Normally, the house would have been open to the public. Given the time of year and the good weather, the visitors’ carpark would probably have been almost full, despite the fact it was barely midday. Today, though, a uniformed officer stood by the closed gates at the top of the drive that led down to the house, with a sign facing the road on which had been written, Bucklesbury House is closed today. Apologies for the inconvenience.

  “Have you ever been here before?” Theo asked as they were waved through the gate and descended the hill, the road sweeping around in a gradual circle before widening out into a semi-circular gravel drive in front of the main building.

  “Not for a while. Years, actually.” Kate got out of the car and put her hands on her hips, staring up at the massive face of the house. The windows glittered in the sunshine. There was an oddly still feeling about the place. The house lay in a dip in the hills which meant it was shielded from the wind, but there was something more than that, perhaps. Almost as if the house were holding its breath.

  Kate dismissed the fanciful thoughts. “Come on. Let’s see what’s what. Didn’t Martin say the victim was found in the grounds?” She looked about her for someone who might actually know what was going on and drew a blank. As she swung her gaze around, she could see the white vans of the Scene of Crime Officers approaching the house. She and Theo raised a hand in greeting as the vans came to a halt. They were soon followed by the black Volvo driven by the pathologist, Doctor Ivor Gatkiss.

  “Good morning,” Ivor said, reaching in and picking up his medical bag from the passenger seat. He gave them a shy smile. Kate knew all the members of the pathology labs well, having worked with them closely in the past on a number of cases. She thought Ivor might be her favourite medic; with his soft brown beard and round glasses, he was like nothing so much as an avuncular teddy bear.

  The terrible news about Roman suddenly smacked her in the gut again, out of nowhere, and she blinked. It can’t be true. It can’t. She should ring Chloe, but something in her quaked away from doing so. She needed to work anyway, to concentrate on this new case. I’ll phone later, when it’s quieter, she thought to herself, feeling her stomach twist with anxiety. She looked over at Theo, staring into the middle distance, and wondered whether he was thinking the same thing.

  “Right,” she said, trying to be firm. “Let’s find this body. Where are all the bloody uniforms when you want them?”

  They all walked around the side of the building, through what had obviously been the horse-drawn coach entrance. Here were the stables, what had probably been the dairy, the bakehouse, and the storerooms. This being the National Trust, the stables had been converted into a pretty set of tea-rooms, and the storerooms had become the gift shop. All closed today. Various police officers milled around. Kate ascertained where they had to be heading and pointed towards another coach exit. “Out beyond the formal gardens, apparently. Where it starts to get a bit wilder.”

  “Who found the body?” Theo asked PC Paul Boulton, who had apparently been first on the scene.

  “One of the National Trust volunteers. Elderly gent who helps out with the gardening. Nasty shock for him, first thing in the morning.”

  “Is someone taking his statement?”

  Paul nodded. “They’re in one of the offices in the house.”

  Theo glanced across at Kate, who nodded. “Paul, could you ask him to wait if they finish before we do?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  By now, they had reached the perimeter of the formal gardens, where a crumbling red brick wall ran along the edge of the gravelled path, edged with low, close-clipped box hedges. An archway in the wall brought them to the start of a wood, where a faint path wound ahead. Kate could see where the body was immediately, without being able to see it. Several of the Scene of Crime officers were already there and off to one side, the white forensic tent was being put together by a couple more.

  “I’ll leave you here and get back to the house, tell them to hold the witness,” said Paul.

  “Thanks.” Kate gave him a smile before beginning to pick her way through the undergrowth towards the crime scene. Beside her, Theo tripped over a bramble and cursed.

  “Careful.” Kate held out a steadying arm. “Besides, we’d better not get too close before they’ve sealed the scene.”

  “Fair play.” Theo glanced at their companion. “We’ll hang back until you’ve had a proper look, Ivor.”

  Dr Gatkiss nodded. By now, they could see the body, sprawled supine in the bracken, one arm out flung, the eyes closed. It was a young man, possibly around thirty, of Asian heritage. Kate and Theo stopped, letting the pathologist go forward.

  Roman. Again the name and the realisation jumped into Kate’s head. This man was nothing like Roman, who had been white, and in his forties, but the sight of death inevitably brought back this morning’s terrible news. He’ll never get any older now. Tears came to her eyes and she turned her head away, staring at the blue sky through the leafy canopy, touched here and there with the first colours of autumn.

  “I can see the stab wounds from here,” Theo murmured, observing the scene closely. Kate blinked hard, took a deep breath and looked again.

  She could see what Theo meant. The man’s face was undamaged but the short-sleeved blue top that he was wearing was patched with dark red splotches, already browning in the warmth of the sun. The other clothes, jeans and trainers, were unremarkable. The man had been well-built, his bare arms corded with muscle. Kate looked again at the face. Very handsome, even in death; high cheekbones, a strong nose, a beard that wasn’t quite long enough to be hipster but effectively framed the curves of his mouth. It shouldn’t make a difference, God knew Kate knew that, but she always found it somehow worse when a body was beautiful. For good looks to have survived past death meant that when alive, that person would probably have been a real knoc
k-out. She sighed, causing Theo to look over at her.

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Kate brushed a stray hair off her face and swept her gaze from the body to the whole scene. Nothing that immediately jumped out at her; no vehicle, no weapon. Not even a scrap of litter in the undergrowth around him.

  Theo regarded the body again and pointed a finger. “He was a gym goer. Got some impressive guns.” He flexed his own, not inconsiderable arm. “Take it from me. You don’t get definition like that without some serious weights.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Kate went to yoga and she swam a lot, but the gym was a foreign country to her.

  “So, why didn’t he defend himself? Take a swing at his attacker?”

  “Maybe he did. Maybe that’s why he got stabbed.” Kate tried to see if there were any defence wounds on the victim’s hands, but they were buried in the bracken. Ivor would be able to tell them soon, anyway. “Or maybe his attacker was someone he wasn’t expecting to be a threat?”

  “Could be. He was facing them, unless there’s some more wounds in his back as well.”

  “Perhaps there was more than one perpetrator.” This was all speculation and Kate knew it.

  “Come on,” she said, as they watched the white tent being manoeuvred over the body, hiding him from their view. “Let’s do a perimeter sweep while Ivor gets started.”

  Chapter Four

  Kate and Theo completed their walk around the perimeter of the crime scene, finding nothing of importance other than another woodland path that wound through the trees before ending in a narrow country road. The weather over the past few weeks had been so dry that there was no hope of finding footprints. The ground was bone-dry, cracked like a broken plate. Kate walked a short way along the lane, trying to ascertain her position but it was hopeless—there were no signposts, no traffic, no indication of where the lane led. For all she knew, it could just wind up at some remote farm.