Joe Spencer’s address was a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, off the A66. By all accounts, it was a perk of his job with English Heritage. The surrounding farm was still actively worked and it looked prosperous to Kelly and Rob, who approached along a concrete single track on Wednesday morning. It had been five days since Mary’s death, and they’d cleared pretty much every lead they’d created. The victim hadn’t had visitors, there was no CCTV of her near her house, her diary hadn’t given them any clues about those present in her life, Fred O’Reilly had given them no reason to treat him as a suspect, and her team had found no holes in the testimony of the other ‘birdwatching’ group members. It was looking more and more like a random psychotic incident, or even an animal rights activist making a point. It might seem perverse for an animal campaigner to hurt animals but sometimes that’s exactly what they did, if it meant making a point. None of it sat easily with Kelly or Rob, and they considered the possibility that Mary had found herself a member of a satanic cult probable: she was lonely, she dabbled in Paganism and she could be classed as vulnerable.
Joe Spencer and his wife Annie had been in attendance at the house of the O’Reillys when they were informed of Mary’s death. He’d also been the man who found the woman wandering around Castlerigg. It was a small community; however, with a murderer on the loose – potentially still in the area – Kelly was concerned for the young woman who’d seemed confused and vulnerable. She still wanted to locate her to make sure she was safe. Joe Spencer needed ruling out as a person of interest.
The lane to the farmhouse was long, but finally they arrived and parked outside. It was a stone-built cottage, attached to a wooden annex, which looked as though it had once been a cattle shed or something similar. Kelly noted the peace of the place, though they heard the odd sheep from afar. They approached the door and Rob knocked.
‘Winter’s almost here,’ Rob said, looking at the sky.
‘That’s cheery,’ Kelly said. Rob smiled and spread his hands.
‘I’m a summer bloke.’
‘I know you are. You’re also a northerner, so man up.’
They heard a noise behind the door and a woman answered. She was expecting them. Kelly introduced herself and Rob. The woman welcomed them and said that she was Annie Spencer. She invited them inside and Joe was waiting for them in the kitchen, sat at the table, sipping tea. He stood up.
Kelly hadn’t before met the man who’d found Carla Rigg wandering around naked in the early hours of last Monday morning. She’d read his statement, and those of his wife and children, but now she came face to face with him, and she was struck by his calmness: he reminded her of Johnny. The realisation jarred her, but she soon gathered herself and sat down when she was invited, as did Rob. Annie busied herself fixing refreshments.
‘We’d like to ask you a few questions about Mary Hales and how you knew her.’
‘Still haven’t caught anyone, then?’ Joe asked. Kelly felt the question to be rhetorical.
‘No. Sadly not. Our inquiries are ongoing. We’re piecing together movements of the deceased and where she might have been, or who she might have seen before her death.’
‘We didn’t see her very much. She was Fred’s friend, really. I met her a few times at parties, at his house: you know, garden barbecues in the summer, that sort of thing. I thought – we thought – she was a lovely woman.’
‘Everybody has said that,’ Rob said. Annie put tea in front of them on a small table, as well as some biscuits. Rob took one happily.
‘When was the last time you saw her?’
‘Probably last year. She looked well and was in good spirits, as she always was.’ Joe saw Kelly looking at Annie and added, ‘My wife wasn’t there.’ Annie turned away from her husband and began washing pots at the sink.
‘Mrs Spencer? When was the last time you saw Mary?’ Kelly asked. The woman stopped washing and took off her gloves. She turned back to face them.
‘I really can’t recall, I think it was at Fred’s, one Sunday a few years back. All the times I saw her she never struck me as down, or worried, or scared; there was no hint of thinking she might be in danger. I really can’t get my head around what happened.’
‘Thank you. What you’re both telling us really echoes everybody else’s statements who knew her. It leaves us the question of a random attack. I have another question for you, though. There are rumours, and have been articles in the press, about black magic and Pagan worship. Of course, it’s conjecture and might be nothing, but I wondered if you ever saw any evidence of independent religious worship going on with Mary, or indeed Fred. Did they ever talk about a particular kind of gathering where they attended and worshipped spirits, for example?’
Kelly waited. She noticed that Joe shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable. Kelly felt a damn fool. She was ready to tell the couple to forget her last question when Annie Spencer tutted loudly.
‘Oh, come on, Joe! Tell the woman what you know and get it off your chest!’ Annie virtually spat out the words. Kelly and Rob stared at Joe. He spread his hands.
‘Can I just say: Fred is no black magic worshipper. My wife has a different view of the religion that Fred follows and Mary followed.’
‘Religion! It’s dangerous, that’s what it is,’ Annie interrupted again.
‘Of course it’s not bloody dangerous! Christ, Annie, you’re delusional!’
Kelly and Rob stared at one another as the married couple vented. It wasn’t the first domestic they had witnessed as police officers, and it wouldn’t be the last. They waited patiently for the partners to stop their sparring.
‘Perhaps it might be better if we spoke to you both separately?’ Kelly suggested.
‘Fine, I’ll go and bring in some logs.’ Annie left the room. Joe looked at the officers. The door banged as Annie left.
‘We disagree on Fred’s passion for Paganism.’
‘Is it an organised form of religion, then? People meet, follow scripture, worship images and pray? I just need to get this clear for myself,’ Kelly asked.
‘Of course. It’s just like any form of group devotion, it’s just that most were associated with witchcraft and the dark arts during the ascendancy of the Christian Church, and they died for it. It’s had a bad image ever since. You know, the lonely old hag in the forest with a black cat? She used to be seen as the wise woman, who used herbs and nature to heal, but the Church wanted people to believe that only God could heal, and so they destroyed ancient learning and replaced it with their own, burning witches as they went.’
‘That’s a damn fine history lesson, but why are people so scared of it? Why does my team and I keep reading about spiritual symbols, ritual sacrifice and demons?’
‘Because that’s the reputation it’s been given. Fred doesn’t belong to any large organisation; Pagans tend to organise themselves and meet with like-minded people, to basically revere nature. It’s all about the rhythms of the seasons and the sun and the moon: just like it was thousands of years ago. You must have heard of the Druids?’
Kelly nodded. ‘Of course, they transformed into wrens, right?’ Joe stared at her with an odd expression on his face.
‘I’m impressed, yes, legend has it that they did.’
Kelly carried on. ‘Am I right in thinking that the birdwatching group that Fred and Sandra told us about is perhaps a Pagan group? And am I also right in thinking that perhaps part of what they did involved worshipping a Moon Goddess?’
Joe looked down at his feet and sighed.
‘Yes and, yes. It’s called a coven, but they don’t tend to use the term because covens are associated with witches, thanks to Shakespeare, of course.’
‘Quite. So why would Fred be so secretive about something that sounds quite beautiful to me? I like the sound of worshipping nature, isn’t that what a lot of peace-loving people around the world still do?’
‘Yes, communities have done it for centuries, but have always been victimised for it, which is probably why Fred was less than willing to share the information.’
‘Right, so let’s get this straight: Mary was part of the group?’
‘She was the High Priestess.’
‘Run that by me again,’ Kelly said. Rob stopped eating.
‘Every group has a High Priest and a High Priestess who run it. They shouldn’t be a couple themselves – as Mary and Fred weren’t. It just means they’ve had more experience and training than the others.’
‘So, Mary was a leader? Did anyone stand to gain from taking that title away from her?’
‘I can’t think of anyone, and, as you know, everybody respected and admired her. But there is one person that I thought had left the area a long time ago, who Mary upset.’
Kelly glanced at Rob. They both sat up a little taller. Rob put down his half eaten biscuit. ‘Go on,’ said Kelly.
‘It’s a long story,’ said Joe.
‘You have our attention,’ Kelly said.
‘I was thinking about joining Fred’s group. Annie was less convinced but agreed to learn more about it. I work in nature, I see it all about me. I think that the basic mores of what Fred and Mary put across were quite beautiful, and it all makes sense to me. Everything revolves around seasons: light and dark.’
‘Light and dark?’
‘Yes, the science and awe of the cycle of the year. So, the beginning of the year is in February, when the ewes first lactate for the spring lambs. From then on, the nights get shorter and the days get longer. Life returns to the land.’
Kelly thought that Joe was doing an excellent job of explaining it all. His passion was infectious. It’s just she couldn’t see how it all might be relevant yet. She listened. Rob started on another biscuit.
‘However, there was an old member of the group who created tension, and there was a strong belief that he might not have had the purest of souls. He portrayed himself as a moral rod, the leader in many ways, and it upset Fred and made the group somewhat lopsided, if you know what I mean. He unsettled people. He brought imbalance.’
‘So why was he allowed to join?’ Kelly asked.
‘Because he was in a relationship with Mary. I didn’t know the details but they were an odd pairing. He was stern and mysterious, and she was meek and gentle. It turns out that he was actually married and Mary ended the relationship. He was asked to leave the group but said some pretty awful things before he did.’
‘Like what?’
‘About revenge and ill-will. The ramblings of someone who’s been caught out.’
Kelly nodded. ‘But you said this was many years ago?’
‘Yes. But I thought I should tell you because he is the only person I can think of who bore ill-feeling against her.’
‘It’s helpful, thank you. What’s his name?’
‘Kirk Junker.’
‘British national?’
‘I don’t know. It sounds Germanic to me but I’m no expert.’
‘Why do you think Fred didn’t tell us any of this?’
‘I would have thought that was quite obvious. He is protective of his group and Mary’s name. He won’t want her reputation sullied after death.’
‘But you think it was important enough to tell us?’
‘Yes.’
‘He knows this?’
‘Yes.’
‘And his reaction?’
‘He’s worried that you’ll disband his group.’
‘Why would I do that? It’s a free country. Unless they’re sacrificing sheep and dogs of course.’ Kelly watched for Joe’s reaction. He gave none.
‘How important is the wren?’
‘I was wondering when you’d get back to that. The King of Birds. It’s hugely important to the Pagan.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. It’s migratory and shrouded in traditional folklore about being a talisman of sorts. It tricked the eagle in a contest to see who was the king of birds by hiding under its wing, so when the eagle could fly no higher, the wren came out and won the title.’
‘Clever little things.’ He told her what Sandra had shared, almost to the letter.
‘Treasured by naturalists.’
‘Mary kept lots.’
‘You don’t keep wrens, they migrate every year.’
‘The wrens in Mary’s yard were locked in cages.’
‘But that’s impossible.’
‘This Kirk Junker, did he have a way with animals?’
Joe looked deep in thought and took a minute to answer.
‘His reputation for seduction was more directed towards women, but yes, he had a way with animals, as you put it. They went silent and cowed around him. I saw it with Bertha, Fred’s Labrador, as well as birds in the garden.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly. Birds didn’t sing when he was around.’
Kelly saw an image of Mary’s pets falling silent as they saw a figure approach them.
‘Can we speak to your wife now?’ Kelly asked.
‘I’ll go and get her.’
Joe left the room and Kelly raised her eyebrows to Rob. ‘What do you think?’
‘I told you they were altars. I reckon we’re on to something.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Kelly said, looking past him.
‘What?’ Rob asked.
‘I know that boy.’ She pointed to a family portrait. It would appear that Josie’s boyfriend, Callum, was Joe Spencer’s son.
‘Important?’
‘Not really, he associates with a friend’s daughter, that’s all.’
‘Small world.’
Kelly coughed uncomfortably as Annie Spencer came back into the kitchen and sat down. The woman looked irritable, as well she might. They’d already witnessed her degree of annoyance at her husband’s lack of cooperation thus far. Coming between a husband and wife on an investigation was tricky: at the end of the day, their loyalties were to each other, and picking apart what was truth and lies could be treacherous.
‘Would you like to tell us your version?’ Kelly asked.
‘I don’t know what Joe told you but I presume he told you about the group. I didn’t like them, apart from Fred and Sandra. There was another man, another would-be leader, who worried me. He once made a suggestion to me about similar groups who worship naked. I told Joe, and Fred dealt with it, it was just another item on the long list of ugly reasons why nobody liked him.’
‘Kirk Junker?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Mary did.’
‘She seemed to. She certainly never spoke to me about him, but what would I know? I was never comfortable with any of it. But the O’Reillys are good people. I don’t mind going over for a barbecue but I don’t want to get involved in the Pagan stuff. It gives me the creeps.’
‘Fair enough. In your opinion, was Kirk Junker capable of murder, as well as cruelty to animals?’
‘One hundred per cent, yes. I know I didn’t have much to do with him but there was something so odd about him.’
‘Have you any idea where he went? Did anyone see him again?’
‘I don’t know. I never asked.’
‘It’s really important that we find out what happened to him. Do you know where he lived?’
‘No. I think he stayed with Mary sometimes, and with Fred also. I’m sorry I can’t help.’
‘He stayed with the O’Reillys?’
‘And Jock Harris.’ Kelly looked at Rob; she wasn’t familiar with every member of the group, she’d just read their statements. Rob nodded, indicating that he’d fill her in later.
‘Do you think you could help a police artist come up with a photofit?’
‘I could try. I mean, we could try. Between Joe and I, we should be able to, but why don’t you ask Fred or Jock?’
‘That’s exactly what we intend to do. Mrs Spencer, thank you. If you think of anything else…’
Kelly indicated to Rob that it was time to leave and they gathered their things. Annie looked relieved to have them finally going, and they said goodbye. They walked back to the car and got in. Rob started the engine.
‘They’re still not telling us everything,’ Kelly said.