Buried Secrets: The Freeman Files Series: Book 11 by Ted Tayler (that summer book TXT) 📕

it kept him fit for the weekend cycle tours of Wiltshire and Gloucestershire.”

“We’re on what they call The Green now, guv,” said Alex, slowing to a crawl. “The actual green is on both sides of the road. If we turn left by the Pond bus stop ahead, that takes us to Church Road. Cuttle Lane is this road that veers off to the right. There aren’t that many properties on the right before you enter the open countryside again. The cottage where Alan Duncan and Madeleine Mills lived is on our left, just before reaching the Wesleyan Chapel ahead. The village cricket club is on the opposite side of the road. Do you want to stop and walk from here?”

“Good idea, Alex,” said Gus. “We’ll walk back to The Green and the duck pond. I’d like to see where Wayne Phillips says he spotted this mystery car driver. What distance was that man from the two cyclists? Is it more likely that Alan Duncan recognised him and didn’t want Wayne to know?”

Alex parked outside the Chapel, and the two detectives walked back along Cuttle Lane towards the centre of the village.

“That’s the cottage where Alan Duncan and Madeleine Mills lived, guv,” said Alex.

Gus paused and studied the tidy property. It was a typical two-bedroomed semi-detached cottage built in the 1930s with central heating and double glazing installed in the past thirty years. If it stood on a side street in a small town in the county, it might fetch two hundred thousand pounds. Here, in a well-to-do village on the edge of the Cotswolds, the asking price would be at least fifty percent higher.

Gus set off towards the duck pond. There was little point in looking inside the cottage. All traces of its inhabitants a decade ago had long disappeared. Gus stopped by the bus stop and took in the view.

“Picturesque, isn’t it?” he said. “A sanctuary; rural life as it was a century ago.”

“Have you ever watched ‘Midsomer Murders’, guv?” asked Alex. “Somebody gets murdered in that village every week.”

“I bet they’re getting fed up with it, don’t you,” said Gus. “Stay here, Alex.”

Gus looked both ways and crossed the road. He stood in front of the White Horse and waved at Alex.

“I’m standing roughly where our mystery man parked that Saturday afternoon,” said Gus, raising his voice as a car drove past. “Phillips and Duncan cycled past him from my right and turned onto Cuttle Lane where you’re standing; agreed?”

“Yes, guv,” called Alex. “They were fifteen metres from him throughout, maximum.”

“Or sixteen yards in English, Alex. It doesn’t matter. Did either man wear glasses?”

“The murder file didn’t mention whether Wayne Phillips wore glasses, guv, but Alan Duncan’s eyesight was 20:20.”

“Phillips said that Duncan cycled faster as they passed this spot. A bit of a risk on a Saturday afternoon with more traffic on the roads. I reckon he knew the man. Phillips swore that he’d never seen him before. Why didn’t Miss Mills, or Duncan’s parents offer a possible name? That man must have figured in Duncan’s life somehow.”

Gus rejoined Alex at the bus stop.

“Which way now, Alex?” he asked.

“Back to the car, guv. It’s a tidy walk to the next junction with the A420. Duncan ran past the Chapel and stayed on the lane until the Crown pub at Giddeahall. Madeleine Mills told police that was the route Duncan took on the Wednesday before he died.”

Alex drove them to the pub car park and stopped.

“That wasn’t three miles, Alex,” said Gus. “More like half that distance. I thought each of the routes Duncan took lasted eighty to ninety minutes?”

“You’re right, guv. I suppose Duncan added a circuit of Church Road or elsewhere in the village to make up the difference. We can check with Mrs Telfer whether he came this way first, or if he passed his house on the way back into the village.”

“Drive back towards their cottage, Alex. There’s nothing to help us here.”

When they approached the cricket club, Alex slowed and turned sharply left.

“Another of his routes?” asked Gus.

“It’s Yatton Road, guv. The village tennis club is on your right.”

“Blimey, it’s a well-appointed village, isn’t it? The money in the area helps, I guess.”

“Now I know this will confuse you, guv, but this road crosses the A420, and then it becomes Biddestone Lane and leads straight into Yatton Keynell. It’s twice the size of Biddestone. Duncan only came this way once, according to his partner. As you can tell, it’s a busier road and visibility isn’t as good for pedestrians, or runners.”

Alex slowed once more and executed a perfect three-point turn before driving back into the village.

“The final route, in more ways than one, starts from his cottage and goes towards The Green. I’ll turn right by the bus stops we were at earlier and travel along Church Road. Challows Lane is just ahead on the right, which is the route Duncan followed that evening. Alan left the cottage at half-past six and jogged along Challows Lane onto Ham Lane. At an even pace, matching what he achieved every Wednesday evening, Duncan should have reached the field where he died just before seven. That ties in with eyewitness accounts. And we’re here, guv.”

“A very windy lane, with no properties after it lost its Challows tag,” said Gus. “Miles from anywhere and open fields on either side. I wonder in which direction the killer travelled. Did he follow Duncan from his home or meet him here? What’s ahead of us, Alex?”

“A tributary of the River Avon called By Brook, guv,” said Alex. “There’s another of these long and windy lanes called Weavern Lane that leads back into Biddestone via The Butts and then Church Road.”

“So, if our mystery man was our killer, he could have followed Duncan as far as Church Road. Then