Chapters (30)
- Bello:
- Contents
- Ann Cleeves
- Ann Cleeves
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Copyright
“Didn’t they tell you then?” He had a broad accent, but he was not local. Ramsay, who had never travelled and did not have a good ear for these things, guessed that he came from Yorkshire or Cumbria. “I’ve found Charlie Elliot.”
“Where is he?” Ramsay asked.
“In my barn up on the hill. I keep spare feed up there for when the weather’s bad.”
“Does he know you saw him?” Ramsay asked.
“No!” The man looked at him as if he were mad. “He knows nothing. How could he? He’s dead.”
He pushed a lever to put the Land Rover into four-wheel drive and turned the vehicle quickly. He followed the track between the house and the shed, through two enclosed fields and out onto the open hill beyond. The land rose steeply. On the hill there was heather and bare rock and the track petered out into a couple of tyre marks. As they climbed, the patches of snow spread into each other and the sunlight was reflected from it.
The barn was at the head of a small valley, sheltered from the east winds by a fold in the hill. It might have once been a shepherd’s cottage. The solid stone walls had gaps for windows, but the slate roof had been replaced by corrugated iron. One wall had been taken down to allow a tractor inside and there was a roughly made wooden door in its place. The door had been opened as far as it would go.
“Was the door open when you found him?” Ramsay asked.
“No, I opened it to see how much hay was left.”
“Did you touch anything else?”
“I don’t think so. When I saw him, I went straight back to the house to phone you people.”
“Yes,” Ramsay said absent-mindedly. “Of course.” He turned back to face the farmer and spoke more briskly.
“I’ll not need you anymore now, Mr. Grey,” he said. “I’d be grateful, though, if you could bring my colleagues up when they arrive. If your wife phoned Otterbridge, they’ll be turning up soon. I’ll need to speak to you and your family later, so it would be helpful if you could stay around the farm today.”
He thought for a moment that Grey would argue and insist on staying, but he nodded and drove away.