Authors: Maynard Sims
“And we, the taxpayer, provide the funding for this?” he said acerbically.
“We draw our funding from the Treasury, so yes, I guess you do.” He slipped his ID card back into his pocket.
“If only the government were as generous to the Anglican church. I have a roof that badly needs renovating, our hymn books are falling apart and our prayer books have been repaired so often you can’t read the prayers through the layers of sticky tape. But if we need money we have to raise it ourselves with the usual round of coffee-mornings, sponsored walks and the spring fair. And yet the powers that be decide the moral welfare of the country doesn’t deserve the kind of investment it reserves for more dubious schemes.”
Bailey didn’t respond. He didn’t want to get drawn into an argument with the man. Wright had a fair point but he didn’t know the full extent of the department’s work. Perhaps if he did he wouldn’t be so quick to judge. For Harry Bailey the work with Department 18 was all about fighting evil, and in a much more tangible and effective way than organized religion could ever manage. He could have spent many hours explaining this to Peter Wright, but he didn’t think that the vicar would be an easy convert, so he saved his breath. “What can you tell me about the Yardley sisters?” he said.
Wright looked at him steadily. “They were a family of witches who lived in this area in the seventeenth century.”
“You’ve heard of them then?” Bailey said.
“Yes, but then their name is well known in these parts.”
“How much do you know about them?”
Wright’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with this?” he said. “What relevance does it have to the death of Henry Norton?”
“It seems there’s a link between a number of deaths in the valley and the sisters. It’s a line of investigation I’m pursuing.”
Wright sat back in his chair. “Well I hate to pour cold water on your investigation, but as far as the Yardley sisters are concerned I think you’re wasting your time.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because, basically, they were good people. They brought a lot to their respective communities, and they were highly regarded.”
“You sound as if you know a fair bit about them,” Bailey said.
Wright smiled. “Do you remember when I first arrived in Ravensbridge, Annie?”
“I do indeed,” Annie said. “You looked like you’d just left school. You were so young.”
“I was, and filled with youthful zeal. Know your enemy. One of my old tutors used to drum it into us. He believed there was evil lurking behind every door, under every stone. And he thought it was the role of the clergy to identify it and expose it to the light. You’ve probably noticed that the Yardley sisters are something of a local legend in this part of Yorkshire. When I first heard about them and discovered they were witches, I took it upon myself to find out as much as I possibly could about them, and to expose them, to show them in their true colors. But after much research I found they had no evil intent. After being hounded from their Lancashire home, they embraced the Calder Valley and made it their own. They became fiercely protective of their neighbors and helped them in every way they could.”
“With witchcraft?” Bailey said. “Surely you, a man of the cloth, couldn’t condone such blasphemous behavior.” His tongue was planted firmly in his cheek, gently goading Wright, but the vicar refused to rise to that bait. When he spoke again his tone was even.
“We’re talking over four hundred years ago,” Wright said. “People then were not so…sophisticated as we are today. Much of what was called witchcraft was more than likely basic psychology. They were healers but many of those they healed recovered from their illnesses simply because they believed the Yardley sisters had supernatural powers. A simple case of mind over matter.”
“Or faith healing,” Annie said.
“More or less the same thing,” Harry Bailey said.
“I agree with you, Mr. Bailey, it is. But then I’ve witnessed some remarkable results with faith healers using the power of prayer.”
Bailey opened his mouth to speak but Annie nudged him gently with her elbow. “We really should get on,” she said.
“Yes,” Bailey said. “We should. Perhaps we can continue this another time, Reverend.”
Wright got to his feet. “I just wanted to put you in the picture regarding the Yardley sisters,” he said.
“And that you have done, Peter,” Annie said. “Thank you.” She glanced at her watch. “The parish records?”
“Indeed,” Wright said. “They’re kept in the cellar.” He walked across to an oak door set in the wall. After taking a large bunch of keys from his pocket, he selected one and slid it into the lock, turning it sharply. The lock opened with a loud click. He pulled the door towards him and flicked a switch on the wall. A cobweb-shrouded bulb glowed into life, bathing the stairs in a dim, milky light. “Watch yourselves on these stairs,” he said. “They’re solid enough, but fairly narrow. There’s a handrail, Annie. To your left.”
With Wright leading the way they gingerly descended the wooden stairs down to the cellar.
Chapter Thirty
Ian Lacey rapped on the door and entered the office. Chief Superintendent Alistair Knox looked up from the file he was reading, gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk and turned his attention back to the file. Lacey settled his large frame into it and waited. Finally Knox shut the file and turned his cold, gray eyes on him.
“Sarah Bennett,” he said.
“What about her?” Lacey said.
“You found her body last night. Would you care to tell me what you were doing in her flat?”
“I explained that to Chief Inspector Holden when he arrived at the scene.”
“Explain it to me,” Knox said. He wasn’t a particularly big man physically, but he had a certain presence about him that most found intimidating. He presented himself immaculately from the knife-edge crease of his trousers to the ruler-straight part in his jet-black hair. Lacey had seen many a subordinate officer wilt under Knox’s scrutiny.
He’d known Knox for a number of years, worked under him for seven and knew that the man’s bite was far worse than his bark. Beneath the polite, quietly spoken exterior was a ruthless, career policeman who could end other careers with a stroke of his pen, and had done so on a number of occasions. Lacey would have to tread carefully. He wasn’t ready to pick up his pension just yet.
“Detective Sergeant Sparks and I were in pursuit of Ms. Holly Ireland, a witness to the death of Professor Henry Norton. As Ms. Bennett was a friend of hers it didn’t seem unreasonable to check to see if she was there. On arrival at Ms. Bennett’s flat we found the door open. We investigated. The flat was empty, but we found Ms. Bennett’s body in the deep freeze.”
“Fortuitous,” Knox said. “And I suppose you had a reason to open the deep freeze during your illegal search of Ms. Bennett’s flat? I take it you didn’t have a warrant?”
“Ms. Ireland had fled a potential crime scene. I thought it imperative that we find her.”
“And you thought she may be hiding in the freezer? An odd place to hide, I would have thought.”
Lacey shrugged. “No stone unturned,” he said and tried a slight smile. The expression on Knox’s face made him wish he hadn’t.
“I’m sorry, Detective Inspector, I don’t buy it. Not for a moment. You illegally entered Ms. Bennett’s flat and carried out an equally illegal search. I’m passing this along to Internal Affairs and I’m suspending you on full pay until their investigation is complete. Have you anything to say to mitigate your behavior?”
Lacey thought for a moment. This had been a long time coming but he always knew it would come eventually. He shook his head.
“In that case I’ll have your warrant card.” Knox stuck out his hand. “You’ll leave the station immediately. You’re to have no contact with any other officer, especially Sergeant Sparks. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir.” Lacey handed Knox his warrant card, and wondered vaguely if he’d ever get it back. “I would like to speak to you in Matt Sparks’s defense. He was only following my lead…”
“And should have known better,” Knox said, cutting him dead. “I will be dealing with Sergeant Sparks shortly—the outcome of that particular meeting is of no concern to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Lacey got to his feet. “Will that be all, sir?”
“Yes. Close the door on your way out.”
Lacey turned on his heel and walked to the door. His hand was twisting the knob when Knox said, “Ian?”
Lacey turned.
“You’re a bloody fool, you know?” Knox said.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much. I’ll bear it in mind.” Ian Lacey walked from the office, trying very hard not to slam the door behind him.
Matthew Sparks was sitting on an uncomfortable steel chair in the corridor. Sparks looked up at Lacey as he came out. “Well?”
“Suspended on full pay,” Lacey said. “The bastard.”
Sparks’s face looked grim. “Janis is going to kill me.” Janis was Matthew Sparks’s wife of six months. They had just moved into a new flat and Lacey knew they were trying for a child. This could be disastrous for them. Lacey laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Matt. I tried to get you off the hook, but Knox wasn’t listening.”
“Don’t worry about it. I knew what the risks were.”
“Knox was right about one thing though,” Lacey said. “I am a bloody fool. A total bloody fool. I should have quit the force a long time ago, then I wouldn’t have arseholes like him breathing down my neck at every turn.”
The office door opened and Knox stuck his head out. He glared at Lacey. “Are you incapable of following even the simplest of orders?” He turned to Sparks. “In my office. Now!”
Sparks got to his feet and followed the chief superintendent into his office, leaving Lacey standing in the corridor alone. As the door clicked shut Lacey stepped towards it and put his ear against the wood, but the door was thick and all he could hear was the muffled murmur of conversation.
“Oh, bollocks to it!” he said and walked away, along the corridor, down the stairs and out of the station.
He reached the car park and climbed in behind the wheel of his car.
What now?
he thought. After reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone and dialed a number.
“Carter.”
“I have a problem, Rob,” Lacey said. “Are you around?”
“Sure. I’m at Annie’s. Come on over,” Carter said.
“I’ll be there in half an hour.” He hung up, twisted the key in the ignition and drove from the car park, heading towards Ravensbridge.
Carter found Jane in the lounge. She was curled up on one of Annie’s heavily stuffed sofas, legs tucked underneath her, chin resting on her hand. In the other she held the book. Reading glasses were perched halfway down her nose and her mouth was set in a firm line of concentration. A strand of hair had fallen in front of her eyes and she kept driving it away with impatient flicks of her head. She was deeply engrossed in her reading. So much so she didn’t even hear him enter the room. When he spoke she jerked in her seat, dropping the book to the floor.
“Do you have to creep up on people?”
“Sorry,” Carter said. “I didn’t realize you were so into it.”
She uncurled herself and bent to retrieve the book. “Well I was. Anyway, what did you say?”
“I said, it looks like you’re getting your wish.”
She frowned at him. “What?” When she frowned she wrinkled her nose, making her look like a petulant teenager. It was one of the many things he found so adorable about her.
“Lacey, my tame policeman. He’s on his way over. You get to meet him.”
She nodded slowly, in understanding and something else. He could almost see her brain working behind her eyes. “Will he have the files with him?”
Carter shrugged. “I should imagine so. Why?”
“I’ve nearly finished this,” she said, holding up the book, and he could see that she only had a few pages to go.
“Your point being?”
“Just an idea I have. I want to see the files before I say what it is.”
“Are you going all mysterious on me?” Carter said.
“No. I just want to check a few things before opening my mouth and making an idiot of myself.”
“Fair enough.”
“Do you know what it is in two days’ time?”
“The anniversary of when we met? Your birthday?”
“My birthday’s in November. Scorpio, remember?”
“Ah, the sting in the tail. Yes, how could I forget that?”
She ignored the barb. “Beltane,” she said. “Beltane is in two days’ time.”
“And that’s significant how exactly?”
“Because Beltane is a very important pagan festival and it’s also the day the last two Yardley sisters were put to death.”
“I’m still not following you.”
“Wait until I’ve seen Lacey’s files. I’ll know more then. Now, get out of here and let me finish my book in peace.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender and backed out of the room, nearly bumping into Annie who was coming along the hallway with a tray bearing a pot of coffee, a mug and three chocolate biscuits on a plate.