Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(76)

‘It wasn’t like that,’ replied Marky. ‘We just wanted a bit of fun. Towan got nasty with her and Ella had been a girlfriend of his. He hadn’t got over it. I don’t remember what happened. I was too drunk.’

‘No you weren’t, Marky. You were all looking for a fight that evening – fuck or fight, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?’

‘No, I didn’t touch them. I wouldn’t. I don’t remember anything.’

‘But you were happy for Toby to be blamed for this attack on Kensa?’

‘It wasn’t up to me. I was told that it was down to him and I accepted it.’

‘Of course you did, it got you and the others off the hook. And afterwards no one spoke of it?’

‘No.’

‘Kensa just forgot about it?’

‘No . . . she changed. She got into drugs, sex with just about anyone and everyone. She didn’t seem to care about anything any more.’

‘Do you think she is capable of snatching Samuel?’

‘I guess so – what does it take? I don’t know. She’s probably angry enough.’

‘If she took him, where would she hide him?’

‘Kensa knows all the stone huts and the deserted second homes. At some time she’s been in a lot of them. That’s where he’d be, in someone’s second home.’

‘And, if not Kensa, is there anyone else here that you think could have had a personal reason to want to take Samuel?’

‘No, why would they?’

‘As some kind of retribution? Some form of blackmail? Revenge? Some people in this community are very aggrieved that Toby has inherited the house.’

‘I don’t know why you’re saying this to me. I’m not responsible for any of it. I don’t know where the boy is.’

Lauren stood where she was and then took one careful step after another towards the scarecrow. She didn’t know why, but she knew she couldn’t bear to walk any further into the field. She could turn and run but something held her there. Something in the way the gulls opened their beaks and screeched at her both mesmerized her and repulsed her. Something in the way they watched her. She tucked Russell under her jacket as they swooped down to attack him.

The scarecrow had a farmer’s hat but it was tilted to one side where the seagulls’ wings had flapped so hard and dislodged it. The scarecrow’s head hung down. He seemed to be focused on the space ten feet ahead of him. His arms were not outstretched, they were caught behind him, tied to the pole. He had on a blue checked shirt with patterns of red. As she walked further forward the seagulls became more aggressive. They stared at her with their beady eyes and now she saw the crows, black and shiny, their long thick beaks stabbing at the scarecrow’s feet. They hopped about the red churned soil and lunged at the angry seagulls. They turned to glare at Lauren.

She was within twenty feet of the scarecrow now and she couldn’t keep her eyes from it. Its head drooped forward and down. The seagulls jabbed their beaks at its head. Pulling at the straw. But there was no straw. This was a Guy Fawkes type of scarecrow, it was meant to represent a man. She tried to see what they had used for a face. Its head was too obscured by warring gulls and opportunist crows to see properly. The scarecrow wore baggy old trousers under his shirt. He had a watch on his wrist.

Lauren took one more step and a seagull pecked furiously at the head of the scarecrow and the hat came off and the head was jerked and jolted between the gulls as they fought over it. White and grey feathers so bright in the gloom of the day; so sharp-edged and brightly contrasted against the black crows.

Mommy . . . Mommy . . . She gasped.

She could hear it in the screams of the gulls.

I’m here. I’m here . . . Mommy . . . Mommy.

Their voices so angry, and they flew at her to ward her off. They scratched her face with their sharp, blood-specked beaks and when she touched her face there was blood on her fingers. Russell tried to wriggle free and run. He was squealing in fear.

Now she was within ten feet of the scarecrow and the more she looked at its hands and feet the more she saw blood. She tried to look away but the screaming gulls seemed to both repel her and compel her to come closer.

Here, here, here . . .

She could hardly breathe. So caught in the middle of the swirling gulls and the black crows that at first she didn’t see the scarecrow’s head tip backwards and she saw he had no features, just blood and white gristle and loose-hanging shards of flesh.

As Willis and Carter walked along the lane towards the farm they heard the deafening cacophony of gulls and crows – and in among the sound was a woman screaming.





Chapter 35


Carter called Pascoe aside to talk in private. Pascoe excused himself from the doctor who had come from Penhaligon to certify the death. Stokes’ body was still attached to the post.

‘SOCOs are on their way, sir, they are coming from Truro,’ he said as he got near to Carter.

‘Okay, I need them to start working on the scene, but I’ve asked for my colleague from the MIT team to come down and he’ll be taking over when he arrives first thing in the morning.’

Pascoe looked at him curiously. ‘We have a specialist team, they can handle it.’

‘I know and I appreciate that, but I have my reasons. This farm is of interest to us in the abduction case. I don’t want anything overlooked while we’re investigating two separate cases.’