River of Darkness Read Free

cope?' 'As far as I can tell. Stackpole said she did what was necessary, confirmed they were all dead. It was she who found the little girl.' He consulted his notebook. 'Sophy Fletcher, aged five. Apparently she's a patient of the doctor's.' 'The child was in the house?' 'Hiding under her bed, Stackpole said. She must have been there all night. . .' Boyce looked away, biting his lip. Madden waited for a moment. 'You said "children".' 'There's a son. James, aged ten. He's been spending a few weeks with his uncle in Scotland. Lucky, I suppose, if you can call it that.' 'Do we know if the girl witnessed the murders?' Boyce shook his head. 'She hasn't said a word since Dr Blackwell found her. The shock, I imagine.' 'Where is she now?' 'At the doctor's house. It's not far. I sent an officer over there.' 'We must get her into hospital in Guildford.' Madden killed his cigarette on the sole of his shoe and put the stub in his pocket. Billy, watching, followed suit. 'Any idea of time of death?' 'Dr Blackwell says between eight and ten last night - based on rigor. Couldn't have been before seven. That's when the cook left. Ann Dunn. She lives in the village. I've had a word with her, but she couldn't tell us much. She fixed them a cold meal, then took herself off. Didn't notice anything unusual. Didn't see anyone hanging about.' Boyce glanced back towards the drive. 'The gates were open. They could have driven in.' 'They?' 'Has to be more than one man.' Boyce looked at him. 'Wait till you see inside. Most likely a gang. There's stuff been taken. Silver. Jewellery. But why they had to--' He broke off, shaking his head. 'How did they get into the house?' 'They broke in from the garden side. Come on, I'll show you.' Boyce led the way to the front of the house, out of the shade on to the sun-washed terrace. It was late afternoon, past four o'clock, but the cloudless summer sky held hours of daylight yet. Shallow steps led from the terrace to a lawn bordered by flower-beds with a fishpond in the middle. Further on another set of steps led to a lower level bordered by a shrubbery. Where the garden ended the woods of Upton Hanger began, rising like a green wave, filling the horizon. 'See! They smashed in the French windows.' Boyce pointed. 'They're not cracksmen. Not professionals.' One of a pair of tall glassed doors at the front of the house had been knocked off its hinges. The empty frame lay across the doorway. Broken glass glittered in the sunlight. Madden crouched down to examine it. In the silence Billy heard the sound of flies buzzing. It came from inside the house. He wrinkled his nose at the rotten-sweet smell. 'We can't leave 'em there much longer,' Boyce observed. He watched Madden with narrowed eyes. 'Not in this heat. There's a mortuary wagon standing by in the village. Should I bring it up to the house?' 'Better wait till Mr Sinclair gets here.' Madden stood up. 'You can begin fingerprinting, though. Start with the people who've been in the house.' A grin replaced the anxious frown on Boyce's face. 'Does that include the Lord Lieutenant and Lord Stratton?' 'Certainly.' 'Sir William told Mr Norris they hadn't touched anything.' 'I'm sure he did. Print them both.' Madden glanced at Billy. 'Constable?' 'Sir?' Billy straightened automatically. 'We'll go inside now.' As Billy stepped over the broken door frame into the house, the smell of decaying flesh triggered a rush of nausea and he had to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands to stop himself retching. Eyes watering, he tried to block out the stench and concentrate on what was before him. They had entered the drawing-room, that much he could see. Madden was bending over the body of a young woman sprawled on the floor in the middle of the room. She lay on her side with her legs splayed like a runner in mid-stride, hands clutching at emptiness. Billy noted the black dress and frilled cuffs. This must be the maid, Sally Pepper, he told himself. His glance took in the tray