A Death to Record Read online

  ‘Okay. Thanks very much,’ Den said amiably. Ushering a wordless Sam into the back of the car with no ceremony, he told Mike to drive straight to the Watson house.

  The interview with Sam took slightly over half an hour. Deirdre showed them into the living room, having expressed angry surprise that her daughter had bunked off school, and then ostentatiously left the threesome alone with a sharply-closed door between herself and them.

  ‘Don’t worry about this,’ Den tried to reassure the girl. ‘It’s just a minor avenue of investigation that we’re exploring. You’re not in any trouble, as far as I can see.’

  She sat on the sofa at Den’s command. He had scanned the room as they entered it and positioned Sam on the most comfortable seat, keen to put her at her ease. He and Mike took matching upholstered chairs, side by side, facing her. Mike had his notebook open and ready. She stared at them truculently.

  ‘Can you tell us as much as possible about the badger-baiting business around here?’ he invited. ‘Including what you know about Sean O’Farrell. We’re interested in facts and rumours, okay?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about Sean O’Farrell,’ she said with a flat stare.

  ‘But your friend Susie said he was one of the enemy. I take that to mean that you think he kills badgers illegally, perhaps along with other animals you want to protect. The woman in the bar on Wednesday told us that Sean didn’t agree with the cull. I’m finding all this quite confusing, to be honest. Gordon Hillcock doesn’t like it, either, as I understand it. You seem like a bit of an expert – why don’t you explain it to me?’

  Sam chewed the inside of her cheek and Den felt a rush of irritation at the involvement of surly schoolgirls in the investigation. As witnesses, they were very hard going.

  ‘Come on, Sam,’ he urged.

  ‘Okay.’ She raised an open hand to indicate she was sorting out her thoughts. After a pause, she began to speak. ‘It’s complicated, right? The cull is just a part of it. There’s other groups working on that – taking the legal side and trying to stop it that way. They’re proper professionals, but we’re not like that. We just want to do our bit to save wildlife in this area. We’re not organised or anything. We talk to people, mainly, try to make them see it from the animals’ point of view. That’s the future for conservation, you know.’ Her eyes were beginning to shine with the conviction behind her words. ‘It’s no good just waving placards and sabotaging hunts and culls. It’s got to go deeper than that. You’ve got to change people’s minds.’

  ‘And Sean O’Farrell?’ Den prompted.

  ‘He was on our blacklist,’ she said uneasily.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘We think he was involved in baiting and lamping. He wanted all the badgers in the area wiped out, and didn’t think the cull would make a proper job of it. Plus Dunsworthy’s outside the cull area anyway. So he set out to do it himself.’

  ‘But his daughter’s got a pet badger,’ Young Mike put in. ‘How does he square that, then?’

  ‘Has she really? How funny. Of course, he let Abby do whatever she liked. He felt guilty, I guess, because she has such a rubbish time with her mum. Who knows what he might have done to it in the end, anyway?’

  ‘But you didn’t like Sean’s campaign?’

  She shifted uneasily, pulling her feet up under her. ‘He was one of the old sort – that’s what we call them. People who don’t think animals have any proper feelings, so it’s okay to kill them if they’re a nuisance. We want to get away from that sort of thinking.’

  Den scratched his head with his pencil. ‘I’m still not quite following,’ he admitted. ‘You said it was important to talk to people. Did you actually talk to Sean about it?’

  She grinned, a surprisingly rueful, quirky expression, suggestive of a powerfully vivid memory. ‘We tried,’ she said. ‘It ended up as a shouting match. It was with my mum, not me,’ she added.

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘A couple of weeks before Christmas. It was a school bazaar thing. Very embarrassing, actually. Matthew was there, too. Anyway, Abigail O’Farrell was running a Year Ten raffle and the prize was this big stuffed badger. Abigail’s dad started on about the cull and my mum heard him and told him he was an idiot. It didn’t last very long, but they said some pretty strong things.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Oh …’ she inhaled deeply, gathering strength. ‘Mr O’Farrell said the only good badger was a dead badger, or a stuffed one, and Abigail went very red. One of her classmates told him he should respect animals’ rights, and that set him off. He said it was all one big jungle out there and you had to kill anything that threatened your livelihood, or you were bound to go to the dogs. Then Mum joined in. She told Sean he should learn some sense and that people like him weren’t qualified to speak about such things. That was when—’ The girl paused, clenching her jaw.

  ‘When what?’ Den prompted.

  ‘Well … I wasn’t sure what he meant, but he said something like, “You’re a fine one to talk with your mucky ways.” And he sorted of leered at her. It was really horrible; it made us all feel dirty.’

  ‘What did your mum do?’

  ‘She went very pale and didn’t say another thing. As if she was scared of him. He had this vicious look on his face, as if he really hated her. It only lasted a couple of minutes, but it was a bit of a shock. I mean – she does the recording at Dunsworthy – she’s not meant to fall out with them.’

  ‘Did you know that Abigail keeps a pet badger? Before Mike here mentioned it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Brave girl,’ she remarked.

  ‘And her father fed it for her when she stayed overnight at her boyfriend’s.’

  ‘Nah!’ she protested. ‘Don’t give me that.’

  ‘That’s what her mother claims.’

  Sam hesitated. ‘As I say, he’d have done just about anything for Abby. If it was locked up properly, he might have thought it was okay.’

  ‘So is your mum involved with the animal rights thing?’

  For the first time in the interview, the girl seemed agitated. ‘She doesn’t talk to me about it,’ she stammered.

  ‘But—?’

  ‘But nothing. It’s only that she gets upset when she sees anybody being cruel to animals. She gives money to CWF—’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Compassion in World Farming.’

  ‘And everyone seems to agree that Sean O’Farrell was cruel to animals,’ Den said.

  ‘Right. Like Susie says, he’s one of the enemy.’

  ‘Did Matthew know him?’

  ‘Matt? No, not at all. He was just somebody’s dad, as far as Matt was concerned.’

  The interview drifted to a close after that. It was half past two and Sam pointed out to them that they’d made her miss a Psychology lesson. ‘What am I supposed to say?’ she asked, with a bold look at Den. ‘Sorry, Miss – I was helping the police with their enquiries?’

  ‘Den smiled non-committally. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ he said.

  Den and Mike adjourned to the car for a debriefing. ‘What do you think?’ Den asked carefully.

  ‘O’Farrell had something on Mrs Watson. Something “mucky”.’

  ‘Right,’ agreed Den thoughtfully. ‘Sounds a bit strong, don’t you think?’

  ‘’Specially in a public place.’

  ‘She didn’t tell me about it when I saw her on Wednesday.’ His head was humming with disquiet. ‘Seems to me that Deirdre Watson had nothing but contempt for O’Farrell. And wouldn’t you say it’s easier to kill someone you utterly despise?’

  ‘Like Sean with badgers, you mean?’ Mike offered ironically, one eyebrow raised. ‘I didn’t really get that impression from Sam. More that her mother was frightened of him, and didn’t know what he might do.’

  Den acknowledged the point. ‘But the way he was killed – isn’t that how you’d kill a rat? Just hurl a fork at it. Exterminating vermin.’

  ‘Women
don’t kill vermin,’ Mike said, only half joking. ‘They call in a Council operative or get their husbands to do it.’

  ‘This is getting fanciful,’ Den objected.

  ‘No, it’s useful,’ Mike contradicted. ‘It gives us a feel for the frame of mind of the killer. For why someone might want Sean dead.’

  ‘O’Farrell was on those kids’ blacklist. He was seen as the enemy. And yet he was a good dad to Abigail, a good husband to that drippy wife. And a reliable herdsman.’

  ‘But you’re right – he does sound like a rat to me,’ Mike realised. ‘Rats have families – but they’re completely self-interested. They make other creatures recoil. Isn’t that what we’re picking up, that everyone except his wife and daughter recoiled from him? For whatever reason.’

  ‘There’s that friend, Eliot Speedwell. We ought to go and see him this evening, and get his side of the picture. He also knocked about with Fred Page.’

  ‘He’s not likely to tell us anything.’

  The car phone rang. ‘Hemsley,’ Den predicted correctly, as he lifted it from its cradle.

  ‘Any progress?’ the Inspector asked.

  ‘We’ve spoken to the Watson girl. She gave us a few things to think about,’ Den summarised. ‘The boy’s due home at four, so we’re waiting for him. Though I’ve no idea what we’ll say to him. We haven’t got anything to link him with O’Farrell, apart from the anonymous letter. Sam says he never knew the man.’

  Hemsley was silent for a moment. ‘Forget him for now,’ he ordered. ‘It was probably just malicious gossip, as you said. There must be more important people for you to see.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ said Den, with some relief. ‘By the way, the uniforms have been round all the local farmers, haven’t they? Asking if they saw anything unusual or know of any reason why the man should be attacked?’

  ‘They have,’ the DI confirmed. ‘Not a sniff of anything suspicious, or I’d have told you.’

  ‘We thought we should see Eliot Speedwell as soon as he gets back from work. And, sir, there was a little incident earlier today you should know about.’ And Den told the Inspector all about their encounter with the group of youngsters and the Ministry men. He told it in careful detail, repeating the names of the animal group members and pointing out the network that seemed to link them to each other and to Dunsworthy. It took almost ten minutes, with Young Mike chipping in.

  ‘Get yourselves back here and file a report,’ Hemsley ordered. ‘Then grab some tea and toast before you go to see young Mr Speedwell.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ said Den.

  It was three o’clock before WDC Nugent caught up with Lilah. The girl finally answered the phone at Redstone and Nugent requested her to stay there until she arrived, which she did, eventually, via deep Devon lanes.

  Lilah’s manner was edgy, which was hardly surprising. ‘I can see I’m in a funny sort of situation here,’ she said at the outset. ‘Neither fish nor fowl, you might say.’

  ‘You’re well placed to get an overview of how things have been at Dunsworthy,’ Nugent suggested.

  Lilah breathed a short satirical laugh. ‘Not really,’ she corrected. ‘The truth is I spend most of my time there in the house. In Gordon’s bedroom, actually.’ Her tone was deliberately provocative.

  Jane smiled thinly. Lucky old you, she thought. ‘So how much did you see of Sean O’Farrell?’

  Lilah wrinkled her nose and cast her eyes upwards. ‘I’d say I spoke to him no more than five times in total. Saw him around, of course.’

  ‘And how did Mr Hillcock feel about him?’

  ‘I don’t think he gave him very much thought at all. They’ve worked together for most of their lives, just getting on with it. They were very different characters. Gordon’s clever, sensitive. Sean seemed a bit thick. Rather a shallow sort of person – I never saw any sign that he cared about anything much. Although he did have a sly sort of look to him, I suppose. He’d never look me in the eye. Maybe he didn’t like women.’

  ‘There seem to be various rumours going around concerning him.’

  ‘You mean the badger baiting?’ Lilah became more animated. ‘Yes, I heard that. Filthy business. It would match his character, though. The way he seems to have been with the cows, getting his kicks from an animal’s suffering. I don’t think he had the brains to imagine how another creature was feeling.’

  ‘Right,’ said Jane slowly. ‘And what about his family?’

  Lilah tossed her head in a quick display of contempt. ‘The wife’s been out of it for years. Abigail seems to have a bit more about her, though.’

  ‘You know Mrs O’Farrell, do you?’

  ‘I went to see her last night, to offer my condolences.’

  Playing at being Lady of the Manor, Jane surmised. ‘That was nice of you,’ she said.

  ‘I think Abigail’s connected with the animal rights people,’ Lilah offered casually. ‘All the local kids seem to be into it these days, don’t they? She’s going out with Gary Champion and his brother Davy is one of the main organisers. He’d know all about Sean and the badger baiting, from Abby.’

  Jane pursed her lips doubtfully. ‘Doesn’t seem that relevant,’ she judged.

  Lilah looked her in the face, eyes narrowing. ‘Well, I think it is. I think your answer is in there somewhere – with the animal rights people, I mean. They believe in direct action, don’t they? And I think you should remember that there were two people at least in the yard on Tuesday afternoon. Three, with Ted, though nobody seems to be taking much notice of him.’

  Nugent had been carefully briefed. ‘Why did you drive your tractor over the police tape?’ she asked suddenly.

  Lilah laughed, a single high note. ‘Oh, wasn’t that awful of me! I got the gears muddled up. It’s different from the tractor we used to have here, and I never drove that very much anyway. I’m a hopeless novice, quite honestly. It’s lucky I didn’t hit one of the cows. Mrs Watson was there – she’ll tell you what a mess I was making of it.’

  ‘Did you know Mrs Watson before this week?’

  ‘Never seen her, as far as I can remember. We had a milk recorder for years, of course, but it wasn’t her. I know Sam by sight, that’s all.’

  ‘Ted Speedwell,’ Nugent changed tack again. ‘What can you tell me about him?’

  ‘He seems quite a sweet old chap. Doesn’t say boo to a goose, just gets on with the work. Never heard of him falling out with anybody. Except Eliot, of course.’

  ‘Eliot?’

  ‘His son. This is just gossip, but people are talking about him being gay. That’s why he was thrown out of the Army. But the interesting thing is, he was extremely matey with Sean. I think there’s an obvious inference to draw there.’

  ‘You’re suggesting a homosexual relationship between the two of them?’

  Lilah widened her eyes. ‘I suppose I am,’ she said innocently.

  ‘Which would mean O’Farrell was gay as well?’

  ‘It would explain their friendship. Funnily enough, young Matthew Watson’s apparently gay as well, according to one or two of my brother’s friends.’

  ‘Matthew, son of Deirdre Watson?’

  ‘The very same. He’s only sixteen, but he’s one of those boys that people notice. Good at drama, had a big part in the school play at Christmas.’

  ‘Hang on,’ Jane interrupted. ‘This is just more gossip, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s how it is around here. All these people go to the same school, so they all know each other. The catchment area’s enormous.’

  Nugent observed a sudden cloud pass across Lilah’s face, a flinch as if at a painful thought. She concentrated hard on the implications. ‘It sounds as if you’re suggesting something fairly nasty to do with two adults and an underage boy. Are you serious about it?’

  ‘Sixteen isn’t underage, is it?’

  ‘That depends.’

  Lilah wriggled. ‘I said it was all gossip. But it would link Sean to Deirdre Watson – and she was there w
hen he was killed.’ She looked up, almost eagerly. ‘Don’t forget I went out with Den for nearly three years. I got used to making sense of apparently random connections, listening to him talking about his work.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ murmured Nugent. ‘I was hoping we’d get around to Den.’

  ‘I realise it can’t have gone unnoticed that I think it’s wrong to have him on this case at all. He’s going to be very happy if Gordon gets done for murder.’

  ‘But you think it was just a sort of coincidence, do you, that there should be a murder on a farm where you spend most of your time?’

  Lilah frowned. ‘What do you mean? It is a coincidence as far as Den is concerned, of course.’ She blinked rapidly, her jaw tightening. ‘Surely you’re not suggesting … Christ! Is that why you’ve come to talk to me? That’s utterly ludicrous.’

  Nugent said nothing, sitting motionless, watching closely.

  ‘You think Den might somehow have set this all up, in some totally sick and devious plot to incriminate Gordon?’ She laughed disbelievingly. ‘That’s crazy. Den would never do anything like that. It wouldn’t even occur to him. Den’s as straight as they come, surely you know that? Besides, it would have to be the daftest possible way to wreak revenge …’ She threw herself back in the chair in exasperation.

  ‘So why object to him being on the case?’

  Lilah looked cornered. ‘Well … because he’s human; because he hates Gordon. Even without meaning to, he’s likely to be selective about the way he investigates the whole thing. There’s a world of difference between setting something up, and taking the opportunity to capitalise on it after the event.’

  ‘It sounds to me as if you’ve still got some feeling for him.’

  ‘Of course I’ve still got some feeling for him. We were engaged.’

  ‘But Hillcock’s got something that Den hasn’t?’

  ‘You’re implying I’m a gold-digger, after his farm?’ Lilah giggled at the idea. ‘I’ve already got a farm, thank you very much. Besides, I always promised myself I’d never take up with a farmer. It’s a mug’s game.’

  ‘So what happened?’