Kirkronald village was becoming very familiar to Lewis, and as he looked at the houses they drove past through a rain-slicked windscreen he realised what season it was.
‘God, I’d forgotten it was Halloween.’ He nodded in the direction of a house that had a collection of three pumpkin lanterns on its doorstep. The next house had a witch’s broom on theirs and cobwebs draped over the inside of their living-room window.
‘Poor kids,’ Clare said as she switched the windscreen wipers to a faster setting. ‘There’s not going to be any trick-or-treating going on on a night like this.’ She drove further along the main street. ‘You were here before, you said?’ Clare asked. ‘Can you see the right house?’
Lewis peered through the rain and the waning light, and spotted the cottage he and Annie had so recently visited. He pointed. ‘It’s this one.’
As they’d driven up from Girvan he’d filled Clare in on how they’d passed through the village when they first started looking into Damien’s disappearance – and how both had separately, and then together, bumped into a strange old woman called Ina.
‘So Ina must be short for Thomasina,’ Clare said now, giving a series of slow nods. ‘Could this case get any stranger?’
As she parked, Lewis plucked his phone from his pocket. ‘Dr Thomasina Hetherington,’ he said as he thumbed out some letters. ‘Let’s see what’s online about her.’ He paused. And then read out loud: ‘“Dr Thomasina Hetherington, a leader in her field, lectures on the historical importance of spiritualism, mysticism and folklore to examine how the unknown became a pivotal metaphor for the purpose of expanding and remaking the tangible.”’
Lewis exhaled. ‘I have no clue what any of that means.’ And now even more in a hurry to find out who Ina really was and what she knew, he climbed out of the car and stepped onto the path leading to the little white cottage. He heard a bark of welcome from the old Labrador, Bob, and as he neared the door, he could hear the dog huffing on the other side of the wood.
Clare joined him as the door opened and Ina peered out, Bob’s head by her knee.
Ina studied him for a moment. ‘Lewis,’ she said, ‘didn’t I warn you to stay away? Where’s Annie?’
‘Dr Hetherington,’ Clare said before Lewis could reply. ‘My name is Detective Clare Corrigan. May we come in?’ 275
‘May I ask why?’
‘Benjamin Oldfield,’ Clare answered simply. ‘It’s better if we come in. Is that okay?’
Ina nodded, turned and shuffled into the house, leaving the door open for them. They followed her into the gloom of the sitting room. She pointed towards the sofa and they sat side by side.
Ina lowered herself into her chair, her expression unreadable. The dog sat by her feet.
‘Dr Hetherington — ’ Clare began.
‘It’s been a long time since anyone called me that,’ Ina interrupted.
Clare nodded in acknowledgement. ‘I understand from our records that you’ve made a series of allegations about Benjamin Oldfield over the years.’
‘All of which your colleagues ignored.’
Rain drummed against the window, and wind whistled down the chimney.
‘New information has come to light suggesting we take a closer look at this particular individual.’
‘Oh my.’ Ina sat forward, eyes wide, relief softening her features. ‘After all these years somebody is paying attention. What sort of information, may I ask?’
‘We are not at liberty to say,’ Clare replied.
A thought seemed to cloud Ina’s eyes and she looked to Lewis. ‘Why’s Annie not with you?’ she asked.
‘If we could ascertain how and why you know the Oldfields, Dr Hetherington?’ Clare said before Lewis could reply.
‘I met Annie before I met you, Lewis,’ Ina said as if Clare hadn’t spoken.
‘I guessed as much. But she tried to hide it from me. Any idea why?’ he replied.
‘She was in my wee local shop talking to Jo, the owner. I overheard her asking about Summerhill Hall.’ 276
Lewis sent Clare a look. That house. He knew Annie had some kind of interest in the place.
‘She spun some tale about her and her brother looking for somewhere to turn into a hotel. I contrived to bump into her outside the shop,’ Ina said. ‘To try and warn her off.’
‘Warn her off what…?’ Clare asked.
‘Summerhill Hall is not a place for a lovely young woman like her.’ Ina frowned. ‘You’re with the police, but I’m thinking this isn’t an official investigation … ’ She turned to Lewis. ‘Where is Annie?’ she asked again. ‘Is she missing? Is that why you’re with … ’ she looked Clare up and down, assessing her clothing ‘…an off-duty detective?’
Lewis simply stared at the old woman. She might be old, her body weakened, but her mind was sharp. She missed nothing.
The wind whistled down the chimney again. The old dog looked up, whined a little and moved closer to his owner.
Ina looked to Clare now. ‘You say you’re not at liberty to tell me what new information you have about Ben Oldfield, but I’ve been warning your people about him and his cronies for years. I think I’m owed something, officer, don’t you?’
Lewis could see that Clare was reluctant to give too much away, but he sensed that to get Ina to open up they needed to tell her what they knew. ‘After seeing you a couple of days ago, we went to the Oldfields’ house.’ Lewis paused. ‘They tried to kill me and I think they have Annie somewhere.’
Ina gasped. ‘Oh, son,’ she said, clutching at her collar.
‘What?’ said Lewis, sitting forward. ‘Is Annie in danger?’
‘Lewis, I don’t think — ’ Clare began.
Lewis was aware that Clare wanted him to shut up, but he carried on regardless. He may have been unsure of Ina when he first met her, but to his mind she was clearly on their side. ‘I’m also certain he killed a boy called Rab Daniels, quite possibly his sister, and he’s somehow done away with my cousin, Damien. Does that mean they might have done something to Annie—?’ 277
‘I’ve been fighting to alert the authorities to their activities for years,’ Ina interrupted looked accusingly at Clare for a moment. ‘Are you new to the area?’
Clare shot Lewis a stern look before replying. ‘I grew up in Girvan, but yes, only recently came down to this neck of the woods for work. In the last year or so.’
‘Tell me, Ina. Is Annie in danger?’ Lewis urged.
‘The literature always suggests that it is male victims that are required.’ Ina tilted her head to the side. ‘At least as far as this ceremony is concerned.’ She paused as if assessing that fact anew.
‘Let’s take a moment,’ Clare said. ‘Exactly what are we dealing with here? What literature, and what ceremony? And how did you even come across the Oldfields?’
‘I was giving a series of lectures in a university in California, back in the eighties. A woman called Sylvia Lowry-Law came along.’ Ina stared into the fire for a moment. ‘One topic seemed to particularly intrigue her. That of an ancient fey creature of Scottish legend called the Baobhan Sith. I’d recently found a piece of text that suggested there was an occult ceremony one could use to give this creature life.
‘Sylvia and I became sort of friends. She was very interested in my studies. Plied me with compliments. Took me out to expensive restaurants. Then, a man came over to visit. Ben.’ Ina stopped talking and looked from Clare to Lewis. ‘He’s a danger. All the more so because he’s a man of influence. He has friends in some very high places. So, whenever I called the police I concentrated on him, thinking he’d be the better one to stop.
‘But, make no mistake, Sylvia is no bit-part player. You really need to be wary of her. She is a zealot.’ Ina played with the top button of her blouse with thin, trembling fingers. ‘It took a while for me to realise it. I can normally tell the deranged and disturbed from a hundred paces, but she was very convincing. I was delighted to have found a like mind. If I’d thought for a moment that she would put my research to actual use … ’ Her face slumped 278with shame. ‘I have the death of several young men on my conscience.’
‘You really believe that they have killed a number of people?’ asked Clare.
Ina nodded slowly, looking again into the fire.
‘When you contacted the police, making these allegations – were you never afraid for your own safety?’ Clare asked. ‘Have they ever threatened you?’
Ina shook her head. ‘I’ve hidden in plain sight. They think I’m a harmless old biddy, easily dismissed. But I’ve kept chipping away at them, and the authorities. Always ready to expose them the moment they make a mistake.’
‘Do you have any idea why they might want Annie? It’s Halloween,’ Lewis added, panic rising. ‘Don’t these kind of people believe this is a date of significance?’
Ina nodded, and in that nod Lewis read a great deal of dread.
‘Let’s be clear,’ Clare said. ‘We’re talking about Benjamin Oldfield, the lawyer?’
‘Yes. Sylvia and Ben. They’ve known each other since they were small children. When you see them together they’re like cousins, or brother and sister. I doubt they’ve ever been lovers, but you never know with people who chase the occult.’ She exhaled. ‘Benjamin Oldfield comes from old money. Privately educated. And he has the arrogance of his class – thinking his connections will always save him from any consequences. Sylvia is a different cauldron of fish altogether. And I use the word cauldron advisedly. She is a genuine witch. Versed in some very dark magic indeed.’
‘You believe she’s actually using magic?’ Clare asked.
‘It doesn’t matter what I believe, dear,’ Ina replied. ‘It’s what she believes that’s important – and she’s as devout as they come. As I said: she’s a zealot.’
‘And where is this Sylvia woman? Is she going to be hard to track down?’ Lewis asked.
Ina allowed herself a slight smile of satisfaction. ‘She changed her name when she bought Summerhill Hall.’ Lewis sat up. ‘Nowadays she pretends to provide a retreat for vulnerable young women. A charitable refuge of sorts. But it’s a front – to hide what she’s really up to. And she calls herself Gaia Jones.’