Cold Blood by Jane Heafield (great books to read txt) 📕

The farmer hit some keys on the laptop, then stepped back. Bennet stepped forward. He took the seat at the desk. Such was his curiosity, and a belief that Crabtree didn’t have a trick planned, Bennet didn’t object when the farmer moved out of sight behind him.

There was a Lampton village newsletter on the screen, scrolled to the bottom, where there was a KEY ADDENDUM link. Bennet clicked it and was asked for a password. He’d been here before and hit a wall. Now there was no wall: Crabtree recited the password.

And it worked. Either Crabtree was still a Key, or nobody had updated the security since he was ousted.

There were two audio files titled with the time and date of creation. Crabtree told him to pick the earlier file. Bennet clicked it. A female voice spoke.

‘Minutes of the Lampton Keys’ meeting, held in the chamber on Monday January 20th, at 0147am. Present are Richard Turner, Arnold Mabledon, Pearl Vacari, Jason Ness, Iain Lockaton, and myself, Sandra Gingham. On the agenda is the sole subject of four visitors to the village and reason for their presence. Chairman Turner played a recording from local farmer Ronald Crabtree. We heard this live, but let me just refresh our memories. As follows…’

A crackle of static as, Liam assumed, Sandra started playing a tape. Crabtree’s voice filled the air.

‘On Sunday I rented my wife’s shack to those four film-makers. A black man came to my door and paid cash, and I handed over the key. He was alone. I didn’t see anyone else. He said he was a businessman in the area looking for property to buy, so I didn’t know who they were at first. Not until Councillor Turner told me they were using my ranch. I wanted them out. I travelled to the ranch, knocked on the door. No one came to the door, but the same black man called out, asking what I wanted. I said I wanted them to leave. I didn’t lie to them. I told them I knew who they were and they had to leave. The black man refused. He said he was going to solve the Sally Jenkins murder and I was wrong to stop him. I only had the one key to the door, so there was no way to get in and evict them. I called Councillor Turner about it.’

Back to Sandra, who outlined that Chair Turner had called the meeting to discuss action against the film crew. Turner opted for a confrontation: the film-makers would be told to leave the village. The motion was seconded and Sandra put it to a vote. All present were in favour. Turner then proposed to send Ronald Crabtree and his own son, Lucas, and he would accompany as an observer. Turner then ordered another meeting at 9am the next day, Monday, to discuss action if the warning failed. Sandra then adjourned the meeting.

The audio file ended. Bennet had learned nothing new. ‘Is this supposed to be proof of something? This doesn’t mean things didn’t get out of hand when you went there and–’

‘Just play the goddamned next file.’

The second file wasn’t from 9am Monday, when the next meeting had been planned. It was dated just a few hours after the first, in the dead of night on Monday morning, suggesting the Keys had been urgently recalled. Despite that, Bennet didn’t expect to learn anything shocking from this file either.

He was wrong.

55

As before, it began with Sandra Gingham’s voice: ‘Minutes of the Lampton Keys’ additional semi-meeting, held in the chamber on Monday January 20th, at 0245. Present: as before. Additional: Ronald Crabtree, Lucas Turner. On the agenda is the discovery recently made in the ranch owned by Ronald Crabtree. Chair Turner wishes for Ronald Crabtree to describe what they found. Mr Crabtree? You may speak.’

CRABTREE: ‘A playwright – I forget who – once said something about forgetting regret, or you’ll miss life. Well, life is mine to miss.’

GINGHAM: ‘Just tell us what you found, Mr Crabtree, please.’

CRABTREE: ‘We go there in my tractor. We wanted noise, to make sure they were awake. They were. I saw that black face at the window. But then they ignored the knocking. And us calling for them. We had weapons, so I thought they’d seen we were tooled up and ready for action and thought they could pretend they were asleep. The funny thing is, we’re there, shouting for them, banging on the door and windows, and not one of us thought to try the door, not for ten minutes or so. Door’s unlocked.

‘Inside, in the living room, that’s where we found the first one. Buff young man in just shorts. He’s on my sofa, and it’s ruined. Ruined by his blood. His neck’s been gashed wide open. Man’s dead for sure. Councillor Turner can’t bear to go on, I’m sure he won’t mind me saying that. Lucas and me move on. Kitchen next.

‘In there, that’s where we find the black man. He’s laying across my Elise’s kitchen table. He’s in shorts as well. This guy’s neck is just ruined. His blood’s covered the table, pooled round his feet and the table legs. Lucas’s legs are going, but I’m fine. I’m an old man and I was more worried about having to throw down with these youngsters.

‘Just the bedrooms left, and there’s two in there. One in each room. Both the women. A redhead girl and a blonde. Blonde’s a bit older, a bit prettier cos the redhead has that dreadlock hair thing going on, and she’s got tats all over her arms. None’s pretty at that point though. Both their throats, gone, blood all over the beds. Redhead is kind of peaceful-looking, tucked up in bed. Blonde girl, though, she’s hanging half out her bed and some of her blood is on my walls, right across the painting Elise’s mum did for her. Looked like the blonde one woke up or something while it was happening.