Page 22 of Murder in the Winter Woods
‘I don’t mean theykilledhim, killed him,’ Hester now explained. ‘Not on purpose. But they upset him with all their harassment. They put signs up and gave out little pamphlets about the bees and the honey. They shouted the most awful things – “You people should die like the bees…” Things like that. “Humans like you should be going extinct.” I tried to ignore them, the idiots, but they really got to Matthew. And in the Christmas season, we have been at the same markets, so we have had to put up with their harassment every week. It drove him mad, because it was so unfair and untrue. Beekeeping is actually benefitting both bees and wildlife in general and there are studies to prove it. Matthew was a devoted beekeeper.’
‘That must have been very upsetting.’
‘The sad thing is, the last phone call we had, on the night he died, he told me that that Poppy woman had been at him again. Shouting, accusing, disturbing the customers. I keep thinking how horrible his last market session was. And wondering if hewas so upset and distracted by the Butter Nuts, that he didn’t see the car that was coming towards him. That they caused his death in some way.’
‘Did you tell the police about them? About the things they said?’ Julia asked.
‘No, I didn’t. It’s not as if they everdidanything to us. They are just rude and unkind and shouty. And, frankly, Poppy did seem a little mad.’ Hester sighed and said, ‘I’ve got myself rather worked up. I’m just being silly. I will never know what Matthew was thinking when he went out to his car to drive home. Probably nothing much: he would have had a long day at the market, and was carrying the crates back to the car. I doubt he had a thought for the silly Butter Nuts. He was probably just thinking about coming home to me.’ Hester’s eyes filled up with tears.
‘Sean and I saw him, Hester,’ Julia said gently. ‘We spoke to him. Hewasthinking about coming home to you – he said so. He knew that you would be worrying.’
‘He was always worrying about me.’ Hester paused. ‘You found him, I believe.’
‘Yes.’ Julia wasn’t sure what else to say, so she reached across and squeezed Hester’s hand.
‘Could you tell me how you think this could have happened?’
Julia took a deep breath. ‘It was quite dark in the car park. There was no moon last night and all the Christmas lights were turned off already. There were just a few lights left on at the market for the stallholders who were still packing up their wares, but the parking was very gloomy. I suppose whoever hit Matthew just didn’t see him. And if he saw them, he didn’t get out of the way in time. Everyone was eager to get home, they might have been driving too fast. It was a horrible accident.’
But as she said this, Julia was imagining the scene. Anyone leaving a dark car park would presumably have their headlightson, Julia thought. In which case, Matthew would have been able to see them, and they would have seen him. She didn’t mention this to Hester. There was no sense in upsetting the grieving widow further with her questions and theories. DI Hayley Gibson and her team would look into all of that.
‘The thing I don’t understand,’ said Hester sadly, ‘is how they could have just driven off and left him there.’
‘It’s unimaginable,’ said Julia. ‘Absolutely unimaginable. I can only think that they panicked. They got scared.’
‘Especially if they’d been drinking.’
‘That could have been a factor.’ This conversation had a horrible sense of déjà vu. Just a week ago, she’d been having an eerily similar one about Lewis’s accident.
‘But to hit someone, and drive off…’ said Hester with a shudder. ‘And leave that person to…’ She hesitated, as if she couldn’t bear to say the words.
Julia looked at her expectantly.
Hester just shook her head, and reached for the teapot: ‘More tea?’
13
It was later that day, and Julia was on her way back from the supermarket, from her monthly ‘big shop’ of items too heavy or cumbersome to carry home, when the car in front of her slowed unexpectedly. There seemed to be something going on the side of the main road, between the school and the police station. A small knot of people held up signs, the writing of which was illegible at this distance. Julia drove slowly and looked at the little group, trying to see what was going on. As she got closer, she recognised Diane, her colleague from Second Chances, among the small gathering. A few metres closer, and she could read Diane’s sign:Citizens for Safer Roads – Action Now!
Julia pulled up alongside the pavement to get a better look at the protesters. It was hardly a crowd. In fact, there were only three of them. Well, five if you counted the two young kids sitting in a large double-seater pram, pushed by a young woman with a sign sayingKeep Our Children Safe. The third adult was an old man in a voluminous red puffer jacket. He had daubed:BERRYWICK POLICE! Wake up!in red paint on a flattened-out cardboard box. The letters got smaller and smaller towards the right-hand edge of the sign as its maker had struggled to fit them in. The words ‘Wake up!’ proceeded up the edge ofthe cardboard, with the last word running along the vertical in rather smaller letters. Julia was jolted by a moment of instant recognition from the projects of her school days – ‘THE PYRAmids’ sprang to mind – and compassion for the man’s artistic challenges.
Berrywick police had indeed woken up, it seemed, because DI Hayley Gibson was coming through the glass door of the station and walking towards the protesters. DC Walter Farmer trotted behind her. The detectives stopped right next to Julia’s car, facing the protesters.
‘Hello, Hayley,’ Diane said, her voice clearly audible through Julia’s open window. She removed one hand from her sign to tuck her hair awkwardly behind her ear. In a small village, where everyone knew everyone, this sort of awkwardness was fairly common. A police officer wasn’t only a police officer, she might also be a Padel opponent, or your next-door neighbour, or an old girlfriend of your brother’s. Diane and Hayley were of an age – Hayley perhaps a few years older – and had likely been at the same school at the same time.
‘Hello, Diane. What’s going on?’ Hayley spoke perfectly pleasantly and casually, but Julia knew her well enough to notice the tiny pulse in her jaw that signalled stress, even from this distance.
‘Well, Hayley, we are all quite upset about the bad driving. About the two deaths.’
‘That’s understandable, Diane,’ Hayley said. ‘I am too.’
‘We all think there needs to be swift action taken to make our roads safer.’
‘Yes, Diane, I hear you, and I’m of the same view.’
Julia was paralysed with inaction. She could hardly swing the door open and emerge right into the middle of the little gathering. Nor could she drive away, with Walter Farmer positioned three inches from the car’s bumper.
‘We want action by the police,’ said the man in the red puffer. ‘It seems you people are doing nothing!’
