Depth of Despair Read Free Page A

vertebra. That’s probably why the skull became detached when your angler hooked it.’
     
    ‘Mr Wardle?’
    The loudspeaker echoed eerily as the disembodied voice replied. ‘Who is it?’
    ‘Detective Sergeant Mironova, Helmsdale CID. I need to ask you some questions.’
    ‘What about?’
    ‘If you let me in, I’ll explain.’
    ‘No. If you want me to let you in, you’ll explain first. If I judge it to be important then you can come in.’
    Mironova looked round the deserted windswept farmyard with exasperation. The lack of welcome had been apparent from the moment she’d pulled up. ‘Howlingales Farm’. The name couldn’t have been more appropriate. The notice fixed to the gatepost read, ‘Strictly No Admission Without Authority. No Representatives Without Appointment’. Alongside this notice was another. Below the picture of two Dobermans the caption read, ‘Guard Dogs Running Free’. Further down was the chilling addendum, ‘You Have Been Warned!’
    ‘It’s in connection with two skeletons we’ve recovered from Lamentation Tarn. We understand you rent grazing land there. You may have seen something significant.’
    There was a pause. ‘Wait two minutes.’
    Mironova reckoned it was nearer five before the intercom buzzed. ‘When you hear the door click, come in. Walk down the hall, past the stairs and go into the room on your left. Don’t go into any of the rooms on your right, not if you value your safety.’
    She heard the electronic lock disengage and pushed the door. As she walked down the hall she heard ferocious baying sounds from her right. She increased her pace as she passed the staircase and reached the room as directed. The man looked up from his computer. He was quite good looking, slim and tall, and seated at a large old-fashioned desk containing a very up-to-date PC. It wasn’t exactly how Clara had expected to see the farmer but then nothing about this visit had been like her expectations. He scowled at her furiously. ‘Mironova? What part of Helmsdale’s that from?’
    She smiled. ‘It isn’t from Helmsdale, it’s from Belarus.’
    ‘Bugger me,’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s a hell of a way to go home to Minsk after a day’s work.’
    It was Mironova’s turn to be surprised. ‘You know Minsk?’
    Wardle smiled patronizingly. ‘A farmer would know about a country whose exports include tractors and fertilizer. Well, are you coming in or are you going to stand there all day?’ When she entered the office she was able to see Wardle more clearly. ‘Tell me what you want to know.’
    Clara explained about the bodies. She was slightly surprised by Wardle’s calm acceptance. She commented on this. Wardle was devoid of humour. ‘Nothing you’ve found surprises me. I go there to check my sheep. As soon as I get out of the Land Rover I want to be away. The place depresses me. To be perfectly honest, it scares me as well. That might sound ridiculous from someone who served in two war zones but this is different. I’m glad when it’s time to leave, I can tell you. Don’t you think it’s significant there’s been no attempt to build there? That valley looks beautiful on a warm day when the sun shines and the heather’s blooming. Yet you never get picnickers or walkers up there. I’ll tell you something. I’ve known that place and hated it all my life. My father used to take me when I was a kid,’ Wardle grimaced. ‘On a farm everyone has to help. Even then Cauldmoor frightened me like no other place has since. I thought I’d seen the back of it and didn’t miss it.’
    ‘Why? Do you think the valley’s haunted or something?’ Clara half smiled.
    ‘I’m not sure I believe in things like that. And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not dwell on the idea. I’ve to be up there at night during lambing and if I thought there were ghosts roaming around I’d not stand it five minutes. All I’ll say is I’m not happy being there alone. Especially not at night.’
    ‘Have