Buried Secrets: The Freeman Files Series: Book 11 Ted Tayler (read aloud .txt) 📖

Thursday, 2nd August 2018

Gus left the bungalow at eight-twenty and drove to the Old Police Station office.

Somehow, he had to get his head straight and concentrate on the Duncan case. When he arrived in the car park, he remembered that Blessing was on her way from Worton to London Road. The others hadn’t arrived yet, so he had the place to himself when he got upstairs.

Alex and Lydia arrived five minutes later. Alex gave Gus a summary of what had happened yesterday evening. At one minute to nine, Luke Sherman and Neil Davis exited the lift. Neil seemed pleased with himself.

“I can’t wait to tell you the news,” said Neil. “Melody’s expecting. We waited until the twelve-week scan to get confirmation that everything was progressing as it should. The doctor told her last night that there was no reason to worry about a recurrence of the problems we had before. Mother and baby are healthy.”

“That’s splendid news, Neil,” said Lydia. “Give Melody our love. It is good news, isn’t it, guv?”

“I told Gus when we were on the nature reserve two weeks ago that we were waiting until we were sure,” said Neil. “It hasn’t come as a surprise.”

“When will you let Blessing know?” asked Luke.

“Blimey,” said Neil. “She’ll think I deliberately kept her out of the loop. I’ll call her at London Road in a while.”

“Back to business,” said Gus. “Neil, you and Luke must update the Freeman files with what you learned from those meetings in Corsham and Chippenham yesterday. Alex and Lydia have some tidying up to do on yesterday evening’s matters. Can you give Luke and Neil the gist of what you told me earlier?”

“Yes, guv,” said Alex. “We’re no closer to identifying the Eastern European gentleman in the photograph that Blessing brought from the Duncan home. However, Wayne Phillips and two village folk are positive he’s the man who stalked Alan Duncan in the weeks before he died. Tilly Spiers, a dog walker, placed him at the Crown on Wednesday the twenty-first of May 2008. Wayne Phillips and Greg Meakin saw him by the duck pond on Saturday the twenty-fourth. Greg was the jogger who told DI Banks that Duncan ran past him at twenty to seven on Wednesday the twenty-eighth. One more witness, Val Huggins, saw the Zafira on Cuttle Lane frequently and that photograph was the only one that resembled the driver.”

“What’s our next move, guv?” asked Alex.

“Is there anyone we haven’t spoken to that could add to our knowledge?” asked Gus.

“Connor Tallentire, guv,” said Luke.

“Lady Davinia, guv,” said Neil.

“I’d better handle her,” said Gus. “Perhaps you could make the arrangements and accompany me, Luke.”

“No problem, guv,” said Luke.

Gus headed for the restroom. Alex remembered something from yesterday evening.

“What do you know about the Crown, Neil?” asked Alex.

“Now, or in the dim and distant past, Alex?”

“Way back, in the Seventies,” said Alex.

“My Dad never drank there,” said Neil. “He spent most of his time in pubs in Devizes and Swindon. Why do you ask?”

“Our dog walker hinted that the place had an unsavoury reputation,” said Alex.

“Times have changed, Alex,” said Neil. “A pub like that, in the middle of nowhere, on the main road, it was probably a haunt for people looking for a certain type of company.”

“That explains a lot,” said Alex. “Gus always queried why the local rag hinted that Alan Duncan was gay. The less-enlightened older locals put two and two together and made five when Alan chose that running route. It was rubbish, but why let that spoil a salacious story?”

Gus had returned to his desk with a black coffee.

“We can leave as soon as you finish your cuppa, guv,” said Luke. “Mrs Campbell-Drake granted us an audience at High Grove Farm.”

“A tad pretentious,” said Gus. “Does the Prince of Wales know?”

“I don’t think milady will be too fussed, guv,” said Neil. “A farmhouse has stood on the site for over four centuries.”

“I’d better wear a jacket,” said Gus. “I’ve got a tie in my glove compartment too.”

“You look smart enough already, guv,” said Lydia.

“I wasn’t thinking about how I looked, Lydia. I bet an ancient building like that will be cold even in August. Farmers would have you believe they spend twenty hours a day outdoors, why bother with installing central heating?”

Gus and Luke headed for the lift.

“Did you grab a copy of those photos, Luke?” asked Gus.

“Yes, guv,” asked Luke. “Shall we take my car?”

“Daft question, Luke,” said Gus.

  CHAPTER 9

“I asked Alex for the most convenient route to Biddestone, guv,” said Luke. “It should take us around twenty minutes to reach the centre of the village. I’m not sure where the farm is, though. Did you visit Slaughterford Road?”

“It’s one of several that branch off from The Green in the middle of the village, Luke. It won’t add five minutes to the trip. Are you worried we’ll miss our slot?”

“She sounded brusque on the phone. I can understand why the officer who took the original 999 call was flustered.”

Luke found Slaughterford Road without incident and followed the meandering road until he saw High Grove Farm's sign. He drove into the farmyard and parked to the side of the main building. The farmhouse had a thatched roof, tiny windows, and wisteria blossom remains adorning three-quarters of the building's front. Everything looked to have been there for the entire four hundred years.

The front door wouldn’t have looked out of place as the entrance to a castle. The dark-stained, formidable oak barrier was covered with metal studs and looked impenetrable. Cold callers beware.

“You couldn’t buy a door like that at B&Q,” said Gus.

Gus heard the clip-clop of horse’s hooves behind him as he stepped from the car.

“I’ll