Frozen in Crime

Chapter 27 Master of Pitkirtlyhill

Amaryllis didn't intend to go into the grounds on her own, but she found herself moving so fast that even before she had paused to consider a strategy she had already cut another hole in the fence further away from the gate than before, hoping there might be a gap in the security coverage. In some ways it was just as well she had done this on her own: she knew she worked best without other people holding her back.

She had definitely had to leave Dave and Jemima in the Land Rover. It was safer for them, and they could act as backup or even just call or go for backup if necessary. The decision to leave Christopher behind hadn't been quite so clear-cut, and she couldn't help feeling slightly guilty about him. He would either freak out or go into a hurt silence when he found out. Either way, at some later time she would wish she hadn't rushed on ahead. The trouble was that she had constructed a scenario in her mind in which at least one person she knew was involved in the armed robbery, and possibly in the murder of the homeless man too, and she wanted the chance to get it sorted out herself before anyone else came along to interfere. If she had to do something slightly dodgy, the kind of thing where she stood on the line between legality and crime, perhaps even edging one toe over the line, she didn't want Christopher around to act as her conscience. She knew that, although he seemed vague and woolly at times - well, all the time, to be honest - he had a very much more inflexible attitude than she did to what was legal and what wasn't.

Justifying her actions to herself took up most of the time that she spent dodging through the vegetation at the other side of the fence, moving fast, trying to think like a wild animal that skimmed across the surface of the snow. It was still soft and untrodden in here where no traffic pounded it down into a solid lump of ice. The scrubby little bushes which the deer had undoubtedly been ravaging came to an end at the side of the drive that she knew led up to the house. She had to walk up the drive from here or dart across the open space that would usually be carpeted with rough grass but at the moment was covered in a thick blanket of snow. She was reluctant even to leave footsteps on it to show the path she had taken, although she was reasonably sure the cameras would have picked her up somewhere by now anyway. She shivered suddenly. She had borrowed a parka from Dave, wearing it over several layers of jumpers and the PI vest to fill out its cavernous space, but it was quite an old one without all the scientifically researched layers of fabric and down that her own one had, and it wasn't entirely fit for purpose.

She had almost decided that the homeless man had been one of the armed robbers. She remembered that he had limped and that the golden peacock had been found in the Land Rover after his body had been transported in it. His motive must have been simple desperation. Amaryllis wondered if perhaps he had got to know his accomplice in the army. She knew there were cases of men who came out of the army and couldn't cope with civilian life and ended up homeless. He might even have arrived in Pitkirtly because he knew his old comrade was there, and then either not managed to meet up with his friend or been turned away by him. No, that wouldn't work if they had then linked up to plan and carry out the robbery. Maybe it was after the robbery that he started sleeping rough. But that didn't work either, because people had seen him around town before that - hadn't they? And also, once the robbery was done, in theory the conspirators would be rich and wouldn't have to sleep on the streets.

She frowned as she circled the house, keeping within the scrubland area, looking for the best way in.

It didn't entirely add up. And yet, if it didn't, then how did the homeless man get hold of the golden peacock?

Conscious that she still had more questions than answers in her mind, she knew she had to concentrate on finding a way into the house and if possible collecting more evidence and then getting out without being caught. This wasn't what the jeweller had in mind when he asked her to have a word with Lord Murray. But then, the jeweller probably didn't imagine that Lord Murray himself was the victim of theft either. She felt he could have been a bit more careful about who he was buying from, though. Had he been over-awed by the mention of a title? Or simply dazzled by the sight of the peacock?