‘Oh? The police didn’t mention that.’ She frowned, then smiled brightly and rose. ‘Sorry, can’t help,’ she said with determination. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do.’
‘Oh, all right.’ I got up and went outside into the brightening afternoon. Gaps had appeared in the cloud and the mists were burning away fast. ‘So what kind of herbs are you growing? Poisonous ones? I saw the sign.’
‘Nah, that’s just to scare off the kids. Not that it’s working too well. Somehow the place is a magnet for bored children, nutters, vandals and prowlers. And of course private detectives, the police, drunk neighbours and all the other wildlife Somerset has to offer. I’m thinking of getting a noisier gun. Yeah, I grow all kinds of herbs, medicinal as well as culinary,’ she explained. She was walking me back to the broken gate to make sure I really left.
‘And you’re making a living that way?’
‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ she said sharply. I guessed this wasn’t a favourite topic.
Just then I noticed that now there appeared to be only one scarecrow standing guard. I pointed at it. ‘Ehm. .’
‘Yes, I can stand very still if need be. You learn that when you’re hunting for pigeons with an air gun.’
At the gate I offered her a cigarette as a parting gift. She took two, gave me a lopsided grin that died on her face even before she had turned round, then trotted back towards her muddy camp.
The Land Rover started straight away as though eager to get out of the place. As I negotiated the muddy track and the even muddier ford I couldn’t help thinking that Gem had looked just a little worried ever since I mentioned the name Albert, though she had ploughed on bravely enough through the rest of our conversation. If she really was as worried as I thought then it was only a matter of time until she made some kind of move — if only to find some more cigarettes to calm herself down. In which case it was a private detective’s duty to wait round the corner and follow her. I turned left along the lane, since I presumed she’d go right towards the nearest spot of civilization, found a passing place wide enough to turn the Landy around in and point it the right way, then waited.
And waited. The stuttering engine sound of a microlight plane crossing the valley did nothing to convince me that this was a sport I should rush to get into, though I envied whoever was up there the freedom to buzz across the countryside without having to follow the roads. It was quite pleasant sitting there with the windows open while the sun went in and out of the cloud breaks. But after a while it got tedious, so to pass the time I started worrying about things: about Jill’s son, locked up somewhere, terrified of what might happen to him; about me and Annis; about Tim and Annis; about the dead guy in my car, despite Grimshaw’s assurances; about Thursday’s break-in, despite Tim’s assurances.
I could hear the surge of the Volvo’s old engine long before it gained the track, so had plenty of time to start my own car and wonder how I was going to follow the woman without her spotting me behind her in an empty, if winding, country lane. When I first caught a glimpse of the Volvo ahead of me my worries disappeared. Not only was the rear window of the estate blind with mud and obscured by who-knows-what junk in the back but half the glass was missing from her only wing mirror. Nevertheless I let her get a couple of bends ahead to be on the safe side. The speed at which she pushed her old banger along confirmed to me that this was one worried woman — or one with one hell of a tobacco craving. As if to confirm the latter she stopped her car on a double yellow line in Larkhall, jumped out and disappeared into a convenience store. Two minutes later she came out with a copy of the Bath Chronicle and two packets of cigarettes and dived back into her car. A moment later a white puff of smoke appeared from the driver window, a black puff of smoke from the car’s exhaust and we were off again. She turned sharp left, crossed a couple of main roads and headed west into the country again. For a while we were more or less following the Kennet and Avon canal then the Volvo slowed and without indicating turned into a narrow tree-lined track between empty fields. As the track curved around into a slight depression crowded with more trees a police constable by the side of the road gave me the first indication that the circus was in town but by then it was far too late. The Volvo had already stopped on the track in front and Gem had got out, looking back at me without apparent surprise. I’d have to work on my shadowing technique. Beyond, a patrol car, a big grey Ford and a technicians’ van were crowded into the small gravelled space in front of a tiny crumbling bungalow. It looked like a post-war prefab that had managed to survive into the twenty-first century by hiding under a clump of trees in the countryside.
The constable put his face to the driver window. ‘Would you mind switching your engine off, sir? And could you tell me what you are doing here, please?’
‘Nothing, really. I think I must have taken a wrong turning, I’ll just back out again, shall I?’
‘I don’t think so, sir.’ He reached in through the open window and snatched the keys so quickly I didn’t get a chance to bite his hand. He pointed invitingly towards the bungalow. If I was where I thought I was then this could spell serious trouble. In my humble opinion Gem, who obviously knew a lot more about the expired gent in my car than she let on, had driven straight to Mr Albert Something’s house to check on his general well-being or more specifically his continued existence which, judging by the assembled police troupe, was now in serious doubt. And since I had vigorously denied all knowledge of the dead man’s identity I might find my own presence here hard to explain away. Gem was walking quickly ahead of me towards the bungalow where a multi-tasking uniformed constable moved across to intercept her while holding on to a cat and talking into her radio at the same time. I followed more warily and couldn’t stifle a groan when Detective Inspector Deeks popped out of the front door like an evil jack-in-the-box. He seemed to react with surprise at seeing Gem and with anger at seeing me. To my own surprise he charged along the few algae-green flagstones in front of the house, straight past Gem and the WPC to confront me.
He brought his face close and spoke in a low voice charged with fury. ‘What the hell are you doing here, Honeysett?’
‘I was just following her,’ I said, pointing at Gem who appeared to have instantly bonded with the WPC over the cat.
‘Why were you following Gem Stone?’
‘It’s a detective thing, you wouldn’t understand.’
‘Stop clowning around. You know whose shack this is? Was?’
‘Albert Whatsit’s who expired in my car. I’m only guessing, of course.’
‘You must be bloody psychic. Yes, Albert Barrington. The woman who drops round his free-range bleedin’ eggs once a week got worried. No one else seems to have missed him. Except you and Gemma Stone obviously suddenly decided that you did. Did you know all along who the stiff was? You’re a mad fuck, Honeysett, and I loathe the sight of you, you know that? I want you out of here, pronto, so I can forget I saw you here. Now get back into your. . thing and drive it away.’
Did I know the stiff? Now what kind of language was that for a police officer? The deceased, surely. ‘Gosh, that’s a gorgeous animal,’ I said loudly and ducked from under his incinerating gaze to join Gem Stone and the WPC who were busy ear-scratching the confused and mewing cat the policewoman was holding. The cat’s fur was a marbled grey and black but the downy fluff on his stomach flamed in autumnal gold. Until that very moment I had never shown even the remotest interest in pets of any kind but Deeks probably didn’t know that. I was just getting a little confused by his attitude and wanted to buy myself some time to work it out. After all, he’d spent the last few years trying to make my life a misery whenever the chance presented itself and now he wanted to just forget I’d been here? ‘He really is cute,’ I said to Gem. ‘Was he Albert’s?’ The cat wriggled in the policewoman’s arms and sniffed at me.