Page 29 of Murder in the Winter Woods
Julia quickened her step to avoid being seen by Poppy. She heard the station door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps coming quickly behind her. As she got to her car, Ollie walked past her and got into the car parked two or three ahead. The blue Renault pulled out, into the main road.
Lorraine had moved on to‘Imagine’,which was an improvement (off a very low base), because the singers had a better handle on the lyrics this time. Fred, in particular, gave it a proper go.
As she got into her car, Julia wondered what John Lennon would think of his song being used by a grandad in the Cotswolds, protesting for safer roads. She reckoned he’d be quite pleased.
Julia slammed the door, muffling the sound of the singing, and phoned Walter’s number, to tell him about Ollie saying he would hide evidence. The phone call went straight to voicemail. Walter must be in with Poppy. Julia left a message for him to phone her back as soon as he got the message. She tried Hayley, with the same result. She dithered for a moment, wondering whether she should go back into the police station. It didn’t seem worth it, she decided. Presumably they would both be talking to Poppy and she’d be hanging around for ages waiting for them. Ithad been a busy day, and the idea of hanging around for half an hour on those hard plastic chairs, reading the same old posters, didn’t appeal. She’d go on home to her nice comfy sofa and her library book. They would call when they could. She indicated, and pulled out of her parking spot.
As she joined the road, she found herself driving behind Ollie’s little blue car.
‘Ah well,’ she said. ‘Might as well see where he’s going.’
It was easy enough following Ollie. He was a cautious driver, who drove on the speed limit, and indicated in good time, giving her plenty of notice of his intentions. There weren’t many cars on the road, but it was just busy enough that she didn’t think he would notice her behind him. Julia wondered what evidence Ollie could possibly be on his way to destroy. There wouldn’t be a weapon of any kind, given that the murder weapon of choice was a car. Perhaps something like a letter – a threatening letter? Or some incriminating personal item of one of the victims? Or the shoes that had made that print, perhaps?
Julia was still mulling this over, not very successfully, when Ollie indicated left and pulled off the road. She slowed, and saw an untarred lane leading into the woods. She drove on a little way, parked well off the road, and walked back to the start of the lane. Keeping to the tree line, she got close enough to see where Ollie had stopped the car. He’d got out, walked to the boot, and opened it. She couldn’t see what he was doing at that angle, but he reappeared in front of the car, walking into the woods, with a spade over his shoulder. The brambles were too high for her to see much, and she dared not go closer.
The harsh metallic sound of a spade hitting the ground pierced the silent wood, and startled Julia. She inhaled sharply. An insect or a piece of dust flew into her lungs. She stifled thecough and edged away with her hand over her mouth. Her lungs felt like they might explode. Staggering further into the woods until she was well out of sight of Ollie, she leaned against a tree, and allowed herself a big cough into her elbow. Whatever had been causing the trouble was ejected, and she took a few welcome deep breaths. Her heart slowed and steadied.
Julia started towards the main road, and her car, eager to phone the detectives. What would she tell them? She realised she would have to give them directions. Stopping in the lane, she looked back to where Ollie’s car was still visible. A telephone wire crossed a few yards beyond it. Across the road from the car was a dead pine tree. She made a mental note. At least she’d have markers for the police.
Back at her car, she phoned DI Hayley Gibson and told her what she’d seen.
16
‘I’m sorry, Hayley, it seems I was wrong about everything. The dent on the car, the blood…I thought it was important, but it turns out I wasted everyone’s time. All those forensics people…’
Julia shuddered at the memory of them all swooping into the lane in their vans, donning their white booties and their gloves, unrolling their spools of crime scene tape. She’d watched them start with the careful digging and bagging of the earth where Ollie had been digging not an hour before.
Julia had left then, and was grateful not to have been at the scene for the discovery of the buried evidence. It was a corpse – not a human corpse, but that of a large white swan, she heard later from DC Walter Farmer. She felt a fresh flush of horror, imagining the bird’s long floppy neck and orange beak emerging muddied from the hole Ollie had dug, and a flush of shame for all the trouble she’d put everyone to. Jake padded across the kitchen floor and sat next to her, leaning his big brown self against her thigh in a supportive sort of way. She stroked his silky head and did feel a little calmer.
Hayley put down the mug of tea Julia had made her and reached across the table to pat her hand. ‘That’s what forensics are for – to determine what, if anything, the evidence means.’
‘Which turned out to be nothing, in this case.’
‘Not at all, Julia. We got new information and discounted a potential suspect. Based on what you’d heard and seen, you did the right thing, telling the police. You heard Poppy and Ollie talk about hiding evidence of a crime, and you saw him furtively digging in a secluded area.’
Julia had expected a proper talking-to, after her interference. The fact that Hayley was being so nice and understanding made Julia feel, if anything, worse.
‘How were you to know,’ Hayley continued, ‘that it was nothing to do with the two motor-vehicle-related deaths? That she’d killed a swan?’
‘Poor swan. And poor Poppy,’ said Julia. ‘She is so devoted to animals; she must have felt terrible hitting that swan with her car.’
‘She did. Her story, when we called her in, was that she had hit a hare. As soon as they found the swan, I told her what we’d discovered. She did feel awfully guilty and sad. And she was scared. She’d heard – like most of us have heard – that all swans belong to the king.’
‘I looked it up,’ Julia said. ‘Apparently the monarch has the right to claim ownership to any white swan in the open waters of Britain, but doesn’t generally exercise that right.’
‘Well, Poppy seemed to think that killing one was some sort of crime against the monarchy, which was why Ollie was burying it. Heaven knows what they thought was going to happen to her.’
‘Probably thought you’d march her off to the Tower of London or something.’
Hayley gave a weak chuckle at Julia’s little joke. ‘Maybe a few days in the stocks.’
‘A public flogging.’
Hayley drained her tea, and put the cup down. It was a gesture that spoke of finality. Hayley had stopped at Julia’shouse on her way back from the crime scene. She’d accepted a cuppa and a piece of toast, having missed both breakfast and lunch. Having hoovered them down efficiently, and updated Julia on the swan discovery, she was no doubt impatient to go.
‘I should get to the station,’ she said. ‘Walter will be wondering where I’ve got to. And there will be the usual avalanche of paperwork.’
‘Sorry if I added to it.’
