Guardians Of The Haunted Moor (17 page)

Wait.
Had a sheep got in here somehow? There was a huddled white shape on
the ground, about twenty yards from where he’d found Bligh. A few
strides nearer, and the sheep became a person—a girl, it looked
like, tangled up in a heavy white nightgown, although no women
lived at Carnysen, no daughter or sister to have found her way out
here and been overwhelmed by the storm. Lee was kneeling beside the
prone body, his stance hard to read. Shielding or restraint? He sat
up suddenly, waving. “Gideon! Over here!”

With a
cold shock, Gideon recognised Dev Bowe. He was curled on the
ground, his face an unconscious blank. His skinny limbs were
tangled in the folds of a cotton nightdress, complete with lace and
frills. “Bloody hell. What’s he doing out here?”

“
Don’t know. I found him like this. He must’ve come down in all
the chaos and been frightened, or...” Lee stroked the boy’s hair,
the action diagnostic as well as kind. His expression darkened. “I
don’t know.”

“
Are you all right?”

“
Yes, fine. Is Bligh...”

Gideon
shook his head. Dev didn’t need to find out just now that he’d lost
a second brother. “Let’s get him indoors. Here, I’ll carry
him.”

He
scooped him off the ground. He weighed little more than the sheep
Gideon had initially taken him for, and a weird pang of pity went
through Gideon’s marrow. What had possessed the lad to run around
dressed like this? A nightie was one thing—no weirder in principle
than Elowen borrowing Lee’s pyjamas—but Gideon had a feeling that
this great meringue of lace and cotton had belonged to Dev’s
mother. He focussed on Lee, who was running ahead to pull open the
gates. He wanted to be home with him, to lose the weirdness and
fear of this night in his arms, in the warmth of their new
communion. But police lights were meshing with those from the
ambulance now, patrol cars wailing and bumping up the farm track,
and God alone knew when they’d be allowed to retreat to their own
bed tonight...

The
crowd from the kitchen and the barn were emerging cautiously. Lee
began to ease his way through, clearing a path for Gideon and his
strange burden. Gideon picked out the first intelligent face—Jenny
Salthouse, recovered from her fright now and clearly mortified at
having been so overcome. “Sergeant,” she said, pushing towards him.
“I’m so sorry I was a nuisance. It was terribly noisy, that’s all,
and I thought I heard something—felt something, anyway... My God,
is that little Dev Bowe?”

“
Yes. I need Mrs Waite up here, fast as she can come. Do you
have her number in your mobile?”

“
Of course. All the WI members.”

Gideon
held back a smile. She could probably raise an army. “Just one will
do.”

“
Right. I’ll call her now.”

“
Tell her to get a taxi. I’ll pay.” Gideon swung round at
another sudden bustle in the crowd, and saw Pendower limp out from
behind the barn, swaying beneath the weight of two small children.
“Good heavens, Rufus,” he said, because the man looked entirely
human now, all signs of his authority left behind him in the mud.
“Where on earth did you get those from?”

“
Little beggars sneaked out to watch the Guldize. That’ll teach
’em.” Pendower squinted into the barnyard dazzle. “Oh, hell, here
comes DI Lawrence. What am I supposed to say to her? What
happened
here
tonight?”

Gideon
thought for a moment. He needed a story of his own, more badly than
his colleague could know. “Well, there was a storm. Perhaps it was
ball lightning.”

“
Ball
lightning?” Pendower echoed, and
Lee turned round in the kitchen doorway and took him in, scorch
marks and refugee children and all. “More balls than most,
Sergeant,” he said admiringly, and Pendower blushed pink as a
sixteen-year-old girl being offered her prom corsage.

***

“
It isn’t very good, really, is it, Sergeant?”

Gideon
didn’t need to ask what. He stood at attention by the Bowes’ empty
fireplace, soaked to the skin and off duty, still very much
accountable to his boss. “No, ma’am.”

“
A second Bowe brother dead, at a gathering which I
specifically advised was not to take place. This village is under
your jurisdiction, Sergeant.”

“
Yes, ma’am.”

A
tremendous throat-clearing rang out from the corner of the room. DI
Lawrence turned in her chair. “Sergeant Pendower,” she enquired
politely, “did you catch a cold out there, or do you have something
to say?”

“
No, ma’am. I believe I was struck by lightning.”

Gideon
compressed his lips. He looked at the dark-raftered ceiling with
its array of shining copper pots and horse brasses. This was a
house of death. Poor Dev Bowe was lying upstairs, bereaved and
sedated, and Gideon was about to get the giggles. He controlled
himself fiercely. It was just that Pendower’s hair was still on
end, and his solemn little mug beneath it was too much of a
contrast.

“
I do have something to say, though.”

Uh-oh.
Here it came. Gideon didn’t suppose he’d been a model of police
procedure tonight, running around manhandling people into his idea
of safety, never pausing to call for backup or help until the
crisis was over. He braced up. But Pendower cleared his throat once
more, drew back his shoulders and looked DI Lawrence in the eye. “I
don’t think Gideon—er, Sergeant Frayne—was in any way responsible
for what happened here tonight, ma’am. If anyone should have
prevented the gathering, I should—I was here from the beginning,
and Sergeant Frayne came in on his off-duty. Furthermore, he acted
with great resourcefulness and courage when the storm broke. Many
more people would have been injured without his help.”

Wonders would never cease. Lawrence looked from one to the
other of them in astonishment. “Well,” she said at length, “point
taken, Pendower. Nevertheless someone
was
killed, and given his identity
and the location, that death is at least as suspicious as his
brother’s.”

“
Hardly, ma’am, if you don’t mind my saying so. John Bowe was
torn apart. Every indication suggests that Bligh overtaxed himself
and died of a heart attack.”

“
But I
do
mind
you saying so, Sergeant.” Lawrence got irritably to her feet.
“Kindly don’t jump to conclusions. We haven’t even seen a
preliminary path report. Frayne, have you taken steps to secure the
village?”

“
Yes, ma’am. One patrol car at Upton Cross, one on the A38
route. Can I ask that we review the roadblock in the morning?
People have to get to work.”

“
They can go to work when they’ve been interviewed and
eliminated from our enquiries—every single person here tonight, and
for preference anyone conspicuously absent. Furthermore, anyone
with a grudge against this family now has only one target left.
Sergeant Frayne—”

“
Officers posted at the main gate and both house entrances,
ma’am.”

“
Very well. I’m assuming Dev Bowe is safe for now?”

“
He’s upstairs with his godmother. Lee’s there too.”

“
Ah. In what capacity?”

“
Concerned neighbour, ma’am. Unless anything else becomes
necessary.”

“
I see. Well, I’ll have to interview him too, and the nice old
lady.”

“
I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“
And I’d like to see the boy for myself. You say he was found
in his deceased mother’s nightgown?” Lawrence shook her head.
“Strange business, Frayne. Very strange indeed. You’d best come
upstairs with me, and...” She spared Pendower a glance. “You too,
Sergeant, I suppose. This case must be right up your
street.”

“
Yes, ma’am, but... I think I’ll stay out of Mr Tyack’s way. I
had doubts of his ability, and I’m afraid I made them rather clear.
I’m sorry about that now, and... anyway. I don’t think I’d be
welcome.”

“
Don’t be daft,” Gideon rumbled, still dangerously close to
laughter. Shame it had taken a lightning bolt to turn Sergeant
Weird-Shit into a nice guy. “Lee isn’t one to bear grudges. And
he’s been doubted by bigger things than you.”

Chapter Eight

Lee was
sitting in an upright chair by Dev Bowe’s bed. He was holding Dev’s
left hand between both his own. When Gideon came in, he said, as if
they’d been alone in the room together, “Oh, Gid. Don’t ever let me
be this empty.”

Gideon
forgot about Lawrence and Pendower in his wake. He forgot Mrs
Waite, perched anxiously at the other side of the bed. “I won’t,”
he said, leaning over Lee and taking him into his arms. “I
promise.” He pressed his brow to Lee’s skull and felt there the
strange shifting currents, the direction of the stream. “Don’t let
him drain you, all right?”

“
He isn’t. There’s just a natural energy gradient. He’s got
nothing, and I... I’ve got you.”

“
Er... Sergeant Frayne?”

Gideon
let him go. Lawrence had her arms folded and was looking at her
feet, good equal-ops boss as she was. “Yes, ma’am?”

“
I’m reversing my usual order of business here, but it might be
useful if Lee could give us any insights he has prior to our
investigation. We won’t let them colour our findings, but since
he’s here, and he seems to have some kind of connection with this
poor boy...”

“
Yes, ma’am. It’s all right for you to ask him
yourself.”

“
Ah. Well, Lee—”

Lee
snapped his head up. He focussed on Lawrence with an intensity
Gideon knew well: blind and visionary at the same time. “No, he
wouldn’t be better off wearing something else. Those are your own
concerns you’re addressing, Detective Inspector—you’re a nice
person, but you don’t like seeing a man in women’s clothes. Why
shouldn’t he wear his mother’s nightdress, if it comforts
him?”

Now it
was Gideon’s turn to look at his feet. Poor Lawrence was
open-mouthed, too honest for denial but clearly mortified. “That...
That is his mother’s, then?”

“
Yes.” Lee’s voice altered. “I put it on every night once John
and Bligh have gone to bed and no-one will see me. She was a
really
good person,
better than any of you lot. She understood about the black fields.
That’s why my brothers made her go away.”

“
Hoi,” Gideon said warningly. Dev’s face was still serene and
blank, but his hand had closed tight on Lee’s. “Remember who you
are.”

“
Okay.” Lee drew a deep breath, swimming for the shallows. “My
name is Locryn Tyack-Frayne, and Gideon is with me, and nothing can
dislodge my soul. Rufus Pendower is dying to start making notes.
Elsie Waite is afraid we’ll think less of her for not wanting to
take Dev in. She has to keep the shop open, has to earn a living.
It’s all right, though—the doctor’s on the phone downstairs, trying
to get him a bed on Fletcher Ward at Bodmin hospital.”

“
Bloody hell!” Pendower whispered. “I
am
dying to make notes.” He pulled
out his pad, and Mrs Waite gave a guilty sob that confirmed her
feelings too. “How is he doing this, Gideon?”

“
Dev’s trying to pull him in too far. So he’s using us as
handholds, as anchors.” Gideon had no idea how he knew this, but
Lee gave a fraught little nod. “He’s sorry. He knows it isn’t good
manners. He’ll try not to look at anything you don’t want him to
see.”

“
Christine Lawrence is embarrassed. She’s making a mental note
to attend the next diversity-awareness day.”

“
Great,” Lawrence growled. “What do you mean, the brothers made
old lady Bowe go away? That was a carbon-monoxide accident at their
caravan.”

“
No, it wasn’t. Brothers fixed the gear.”

“
Oh, you have to be kidding me. Why would they do
that?”

“
Because my mother—
Dev’s
mother—knew about the dark. The black
fields.”

Lawrence
shook her head. “This is crazy. Frayne, I know I asked Lee to do
this, but I think we’d best stick to our usual procedures. Maybe
you should take him home.”

Gideon
wanted nothing better. Something was tugging at the edges of his
mind, though. He laid a hand on Lee’s shoulder. “You said Dev feels
empty, love.”

“
Yes. Like a shell.”

“
Do you know why that is?”

“
Because he has to leave room for... Oh, God.” Lee jolted
upright, tearing his hand out of Dev’s. “Sorry, DI Lawrence. You’re
right—this is nuts. I must be picking up on his nightmares, or the
way his schizophrenia expresses itself. I’m not gonna be much more
help to you here tonight.”

“
That’s quite all right.” Lawrence sounded relieved. A lot of
people did, when Lee switched off his searchlight and the world
could regain its familiar shadows once more. “If you come up with
anything definite, feel free to give me a call. I will pull up the
records for that carbon-monoxide case, but...”

“
It’s paranoia, probably. He’s very ill.”

“
Yes, poor lad. Best we leave him to the doctor for now. Mrs
Waite, Sergeant Frayne will have a chat with you in the morning, if
that’s okay.”