Murder At Snowfall, page 13
“Sorry!” I shout, as me and my sledge crash on down, through a bramble, whipped by small branches and bumped by boulders until I see the canal below me.
Oh no.
Ice.
I grip tighter and wait for the shock of the icy water.
Chapter 22
Crack.
The lid breaks.
The ice cracks.
But I stay on top, sliding on my knees, slowed by the inches of snow, frightening a duck. Dry.
I stop, and try to stand. Underneath the snow is ice. It’s slippery and, although it’s thick I can hear the ominous sound of cracks racing across the surface.
Lying flat, I paddle myself to the side and clamber up through the frozen grasses, grasping something hanging over that turns out to be a stinging nettle. I’ve escaped lions. Escaped lions!
My hands are frozen. My boots full of snow. But I let myself smile.
“Hello! Hello!” a voice calls from above me. “Ruby? Is that you?”
I stand and look up at where I shot through the bushes on the main road.
There’s a figure standing there, backlit by headlights.
It’s not Lucas.
“Hello!” I call back. “I’m really sorry, but who is that?”
“It’s me, Anthony. I thought it was you – I saw your red coat shoot across the road in front of me.”
“Oh, Anthony!”
“Do you want a lift? I reckon I can just about get up the hill.”
I waddle over the frozen canal and pull myself up the bank on the far side. The snow has flattened where I came through, and it takes a helping hand from Anthony and some inelegant hedge-tangling from me and then I’m standing on the main road, staring at his car. It’s a substantial four-wheel drive. Not as large as Sebastian’s, but big enough to make short work of the snow. Quite suddenly, I feel like crying. I’d never thought of Anthony as a saviour, but here he is with a big, warm, safe car.
“Jump in,” he says. “What are you doing here?”
“Avoiding the lions.”
I climb up into the passenger seat. It’s all very tech and smells of Jacqui’s perfume.
“What?” says Anthony. “The lions? How did you end up in there?”
“We were visiting your mum and she told us to go right to get out of the park. I think she must have meant left. I was with Lucas, but somehow we got separated. I’m really worried about him.”
“We’ll get help. No signal here. But I’m sure he’s fine.” Anthony’s driving along the main road as if the snow wasn’t bucketing down. I guess in a car like this it doesn’t make much odds. We go over a bump and something in the back of the car clangs. He starts talking again. “Mum’s always getting her left and right muddled up. You must have been terrified. I’m amazed you’re still alive. What did you go to the safari park for?”
I stare out the window, listening to the curious rhythms that the car and the snow are making. There’s music, but there’s another rhythmic thump. It seems to be coming from the boot. Odd. It’s as if there’s someone in there.
“We went to talk to your mum.”
“About what?” asks Anthony.
“I don’t know whether I should say.”
Anthony stays silent, and in the end I speak just to fill the gap.
“I wanted to talk to her about Dr Price’s murder and all the weird stuff that’s been going on recently. I told her that there was a piece of evidence that Lucas and I found near Dr Price’s body, one that pointed to the safari park, or, more particularly, Sebastian.”
“Oh?” asks Anthony.
“I found a sort of charm – a gross charm, admittedly – on the side of the road near where we found Dr Price, and Lucas found a picture of Sebastian’s first wife wearing it, as part of a necklace. And we found a letter, to Dr Price. About poisons.”
Anthony brakes to avoid a rabbit.
“So what are you saying? Are you saying that Sebastian is … a murderer?”
“I am – I really am. I tried telling Jacqui earlier but she said she was one hundred per cent certain that Sebastian couldn’t be – but I’m not so sure. I think your mother might be in danger, Anthony. I know it sounds crazy but you should know so you can try to keep her safe.”
Under the trees the snow is thinner, but the road is still empty.
Anthony doesn’t say anything for a long time.
“I think,” he says, “you might be right.”
Chapter 23
We drive slowly along the main road, down towards the traffic lights. I turn to look into the back in case I can see somebody in there. I glance at the seat behind me. It seems to be full of equipment; pipes and cables and things that are probably techy parts of Anthony’s work. Also a load of red fluffy feathered things. I can’t imagine what they’re for.
“Scary about the lions,” he says. “Did they chase you?”
“Not exactly. In fact, they were less scary than—” I pause. Then I turn round to look at the back seat again. Those red fluffy things look awfully like the things that were flying through the air when I was running from the lions. Darts.
“Than what?” Anthony asks, swinging the car into the road that goes towards Granny’s.
Which is interesting, because I haven’t mentioned going to Granny’s.
And I have an unwanted thought.
How did he know I have a red coat?
Unless.
The man in the market. He was tall, like Anthony.
I babble. “So it’s really lovely in the snow, isn’t it? I love the way the countryside looks – even the electricity substation is attractive in this…”
I always babble when I’m nervous, and as I’m babbling, I think.
All of this points to Anthony. He’s driving his own car now – but he could have driven Sebastian’s. Sebastian could have lost his keys because Anthony had them. Anthony drives a car – uses computers – knows his way around the surgery. He works on phone-tapping technology – so he could have listened to all the conversations and he would have known Dr Price. He had every reason to help Sebastian’s wife to die. The sooner she died, the sooner his mother could marry him.
“… it must be really brilliant to be able to drive this car – four-wheel drive and that. Did you know we’re doing Hairspray next week? Lucas is playing a big part, which will be really…”
As my words spout, I go on thinking. Jacqui can’t possibly know about it. It must be Anthony on his own.
And now I’m in his car.
“I hope Lucas is OK. You didn’t see him through the snow?”
“No,” he says. “But we can use a call box at the top of the hill.”
I’m pretty sure I now know where Lucas is. And it’s not on a snowy hillside being eaten by lions, thank goodness; it’s hiding in the boot of this car. He would have been down to my right. He must have reached the chain-link fence with the lamppost on the other side and he would have been able to climb it. He’d have reached the main road before me. Anthony would have driven past him, before I shot across the road. And Lucas would have worked Anthony out before I did.
He’s stowed away and those thumps are him telling me he’s there.
In the darkness of the car, I reach for the door handle. It’s cold under my fingers and I give it a little tug. Nothing moves. Childlock? It’s almost certainly the kind of car where the boot doesn’t open from the inside. Lucas has climbed in, but he may not be able to climb out.
Anthony turns the car around the long bends and we creep along the road, heading for the railway bridge at the bottom of the hill.
I stop babbling and relax a little as we climb the hill. Halfway, there’s a car across the road.
“Oh, look, this is fine. I can walk from here,” I say, trying to work out how I can release Lucas. “Really, you’ve done enough.”
“No, I think I can get past.”
“Really?” I say, as he skilfully manoeuvres the car on and off the pavement to the left and just skims by.
I’m desperately trying to come up with an excuse to get out of the car. I could be suddenly sick. Or a nosebleed – not that I have nosebleeds. I could faint. What good would that do?
We’re nearly at the top of the hill. From here, I could run over the fields, I could get to Granny’s before him.
“Oh – shoot!” he says.
There, miraculously jammed across the road, is the bus. Windows lit up; passengers still inside. It must have got stuck ages ago because there’s a breakdown truck on the far side.
“What a shame,” says Anthony. “I really thought I could get you there.”
“Oh well, no matter. I can get to Granny’s from here really easily, honestly. I can call for help now.”
“I’ll come with you. You must be shaken after that tumble across the road.” He reaches into the back for something. It gleams. A gun?
“Um – well, OK,” I say. “Although Granny doesn’t much welcome callers.”
“I won’t come in, just see you to the door. Mum wouldn’t forgive me for leaving you out here on your own.”
The doors click open and I step down.
Now what am I going to do? And how am I going to get Lucas out?
Chapter 24
The moment I step out of the car, Anthony is there next to me. He nudges me round to the front, grabbing his jacket from the back seat by shoving me forward.
I start walking immediately. Leaving him to run to catch up. I’m furiously thinking as I stomp.
Lucas is in the boot of that car.
I need an excuse.
I know.
I pat my pockets.
“Oh no, I’ve left my phone in the car.”
“I’ll get it,” says Anthony.
“No – I will, it’s fine.”
“I’ll come with you,”
We walk back together. I gabble and babble and fill the air with stupid talk. I hope Lucas can hear this.
“It must be in the front somewhere,” I say.
We get right up to the side of the car before he twings the beeper and the doors open. I climb up to look in the front passenger seat. “Oh – there it is,” I say, leaning right over the seat, my legs sticking out. “I just can’t – can’t quite, oh!”
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“It’s over the far side, jammed between the seat and the handbrake thingy in the middle. You might have better luck,” I say.
“Let me look.” He clambers on to the door sill and leans right over.
“It should be there, right there,” I say, running around to the back of the car and clicking the boot open.
Lucas rises up like the undead, and I run back to the front of the car where Anthony is still leaning over.
I hear a soft flump as Lucas leaps from the boot, closes it with a barely audible click – thank goodness – and scuttles out of sight.
“Can you see it? It’s black.”
I’m tempted to slam the door on him, but I reckon if I can delay him for a while, Lucas should be able to get to Granny’s.
What he’ll do when he gets there I don’t know.
Ring the police?
Turn Grandpa’s fossil collection into missiles?
“Can’t find it,” says Anthony, jerking backward and banging his head on the roof.
“Oh – perhaps I lost it in the park,” I say, theatrically patting my pockets.
“Perhaps you did,” he says.
The passengers from the bus have been loaded into a minibus and I speed up, hoping to get to them before they leave, but they pull away a moment before I reach them. I still manage to waste a few minutes examining the state of the bus and pointing out the skid marks on the ground.
The snow has stopped and it’s very quiet up here except for the low whistle of the wind and the sound of a dog barking somewhere.
“Come on,” says Anthony. “Let’s get going. You need to tell someone about Lucas and I should get back to Ma and Sebastian.”
We turn from the main road into the village, passing a bus stop and a freshly sprayed owl tag.
Good. He’s ahead of us.
I stroll, I wander, I make footprints, I throw an experimental snowball, all waiting for the moment at which Anthony snaps and the threat moves from deep and low to on the surface. I stop to admire the sky – it’s clearing now and the moon is showing between the clouds… Small snowfalls cascade from the trees.
He doesn’t snap and I manage to waste about ten minutes. Ten minutes that should have allowed Lucas to get there, and explain.
Granny’s house is beyond the church, and I dawdle past, pointing out the pretty ledges of snow on the churchyard walls, and not pointing out the new stencilled owl on the corner of the noticeboard.
Anthony says nothing, and I realise that he doesn’t know where she lives.
A woman comes past walking a dog. “Evening,” she says. “Lovely, isn’t it? Snow day tomorrow.”
“Yes,” I say, wondering if I should flag her down and try and explain – but what good would it do? Anthony’s right there, and I’m pretty sure he’s holding a gun. “Sledging,” I say. We pass the Seven Stars, windows glowing to the right, and the Social Club on my left. Here the houses thin. I can see Granny’s.
Beyond her house is the swimming lake.
And I have an idea.
Chapter 25
Yellow squares show in the kitchen window of Granny’s house. And there’s more than one person inside.
Lucas.
He made it.
My dread notches down a gear and I take a long, deep breath.
And then just down the road, I see the big car.
Sebastian’s.
What?
But I haven’t got time to think.
I knock on Granny’s door, push it open and almost suffocate in the warm fug.
“Hello!” I call out cheerily.
“In the kitchen,” shouts a voice.
It’s not Granny.
Anthony comes in behind me.
“Thank you for the lift,” I say. “That’s really kind.”
He ignores me, brushing past all the walking aids, sending them clattering to the floor. “Ma?” he shouts. “Oh! And you.”
My head turns the corner into the kitchen and I see Jacqui, Granny and Lucas sitting around the table. Granny meets my eye and raises her eyebrow but she doesn’t say anything.
Lucas is sheet-white and he’s glaring at me. I wonder what that glare means.
“Hello, darling,” says Jacqui. “I was so worried about you, thought I’d find you on the way – came to check you were all tickety-boo. And – what you said, it’s been bothering me…”
Dry-mouthed, I creak a garbled, “Oh.”
I’m behind Anthony.
“Pop and get the charm, show me,” says Jacqui. “I really need proof that I’ve married a murderer!” She puts her hand over her mouth and giggles, and at that moment I let all my doubts flood in and I see right through her and all the lies she’s spun.
I want to sit down. I want to discuss this with Lucas and Granny but instead I say, “Oh, OK. Put the kettle on. I must use the bathroom and then I’ll dig it out. It’s upstairs.”
Before anyone can stop me I clatter past the walkers into Granny’s downstairs loo, lock the door behind me and open the window above the toilet itself. It’s just big enough, I reckon.
It takes a moment for me, my boots and my coat to bundle through.
I’m in her garden. Behind it is a field, with the swimming lake.
This’ll never work.
Yes, it will.
I run to the back window of the kitchen and tap on it, waving frantically. Lucas’s eyes go wide. I leg it across the garden, straight over Granny’s frozen pond, jumping over the small box hedges and crashing through the raspberry canes until I reach the fence at the bottom. I turn for a second to see Anthony and Jacqui standing in the back doorway of the cottage, peering out into the dark.
The fence is three strands of barbed wire. I duck through the gap in the middle, like I’ve done a thousand times when taking sneaky swims in the private lake on a hot summer’s evening. When I’m safely on the other side I turn and look back again. Black figures bob in front of the glow from the house. I can’t tell how close they are but now’s the time to run. I break into a jog, and then push myself to properly run. Ahead, I can see a lamp that must be on the swimmer’s hut on the far side. Sprinting towards the light, I only slow for the slope that goes down to the lake itself. Underfoot is solid, it will be all the way around the sides, but there’s a stream that runs in from the right-hand side – there’s no way the ice can freeze thickly across the middle. At least, I hope not.
I stop to get my breath. I need to go close enough to the middle to tempt them, but far enough away not to fall through. Above me, the clouds break again and the moonlight floods through, lighting up the whole field. The huge lake shows as a circular shadow and I’m just inside the circle. Behind me, Jacqui shouts to Anthony, “There she is, get her!”
I was right.
Resisting the impulse to run, I walk straight ahead, until the snow crunch turns to ice crack.
Then I swing left, and a couple of metres inside the edge of the ice begin to run again. This is the deep end of the lake – not that deep, but deep enough. There’ll be things asleep under the ice.
I risk running closer to the middle.
Crack.
A cloud covers the moon and the light drops.
Brilliant timing.
Under cover of darkness I head back for the shoreline.
“OW!” comes a shout. Anthony on the barbed wire.
I’m nearly round the lake. Just a little further and I can stop on the far side.
I can’t ring the police; I don’t have a phone. I can only hope that Lucas has done it. Or that Granny has done it, or a fish at the bottom of the lake has done it.
This is mad.
I so hope this works.
The light on the swimmer’s hut is quite clear now and I head towards it, stopping beneath it so that my red coat shows up.
I wave.
And I wait, and I watch.
