“Very good, sir. And may I bring you in a tray of tea or coffee?”
“Thank you. Most appreciated.”
She gave a curt bow before she closed the door behind her.
Hughes turned to Evan. “What made you ask that question about Cresswell?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have interrupted you. I just wanted to prove to myself that Cresswell was sweet on Lady Annabel.”
“Good lord. What made you think that?”
“Just a feeling. Why else would he stay on here? And she asked for him when she found out the news about Randy’s body.”
“Ah. Did she? So that gives Cresswell a real motive for wanting Wunderlich out of the way. And Mrs. Roberts too—she was frank enough, wasn’t she? Clearly loathed the man. I’m afraid Annabel was sadly deluding herself when she said that Wunderlich had no enemies. It’s fairly obvious that—” He broke off as there was a tap at the door.
Michael Hollister poked his head around the door, then came in reluctantly, blinking owlishly behind his glasses.
“Ah, come in. You must be Michael.” Hughes waved him to the chair. “Take a seat. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re trying to fill in the background on Randy Wunderlich.”
“S-something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Michael asked. “You’ve d-discovered something or you wouldn’t be back here. Did he kill himself or did somebody do it for him?”
Again that interesting mixture of shyness and arrogance. He was stuttering more than usual, Evan noted, but that could be a shy person’s response to facing D.C.I. Hughes.
“We are only at the beginning of our investigation. Just asking a few questions. Now, I understand that you are Lady Annabel’s son. Is that correct?”
“Although she has often denied it, that is correct, yes.”
“Why would she want to deny it, Michael?”
“B-b-because I make her look old, of course. How can she be thirty when she has a twenty-year-old son?”
Hughes smiled. “I also understand that you grew up with your father, not your mother.”
“That was because she ran out on us when I was very small.”
“And yet you are with her now.”
“We met up again when I left school. By that time I could understand why she had run out on my father. She liked life—not being stuck in some grim old fortress and only shooting and fishing for entertainment.”
“I also understand that you were at university until recently.”
“Until last Michaelmas Term actually.”
“So you haven’t completed your degree?”
“No. I broke off my studies because I was worried about my mother. When I heard what was happening to the place—well, I thought someone ought to be keeping an eye on her—and on my inheritance.”
“So you didn’t like Mr. Wunderlich?”
“I can’t say I disliked him as a person. He was always pleasant enough to me, although we didn’t have much in common. I think he thought I was a poor specimen, because I play the cello and like poetry and don’t like sport much. Randy was very into the body beautiful—healthy mind, healthy body, always pumping iron and jogging.”
“But his death is very convenient for you. Now your mother is free of him and you get your beloved home back.”
“I wouldn’t call it a beloved home. I hardly know the place. I only came here a couple of times in school holidays to stay with my grandfather. But it is family property. It should stay in the family.”
“Well, now you’ll be able to go back to uni and finish your degree, won’t you? I expect you’ll be happy to be with your friends again. It must be rather dreary to be in a place with nobody your own age around.”
“Oh, absolutely—although I’m not a particularly social kind of chap. Not exactly the life of the party, like Randy was.”
Hughes consulted his notes. “I see from what Sergeant Watkins has written that you were out on the afternoon Randy Wunderlich went missing.”
“Yes. My mother asked me to run some errands for her, so I took her car after lunch and drove into Porthmadog. Not exactly a shopping metropolis, is it? But I had to pick up a prescription for her and mail a couple of parcels—that kind of thing.”
“And you got back when?”
“Not exactly sure. I stopped off at the harbor to see some chaps who sail with me. I like to sail, you know. I spent most of the afternoon there. They were laying the tables for dinner when I got back here, so it must have been around five. You can check with security; they log cars in and out.”
“Michael—did your mother take sleeping pills?”
Michael grinned, making him look suddenly very young. “She wouldn’t admit to it, because Randy went in for alternative healing, but she popped quite a few pills. Mogodans, tranquilizers, diet pills.”
“And what was the prescription for that afternoon. Do you remember?”
Michael grinned again. “It was some sort of vitamin A cream for her wrinkles.”
“I see. Thank you, Michael. You’ve been very helpful. Let me ask you one last thing. Do you think anybody at the Sacred Grove wanted to see Randy Wunderlich dead?”
“I should have thought the question would be who didn’t,” Michael said. “Mrs. Roberts couldn’t stand him. Ben loathed him and Rhiannon—”
“Ah yes, the famous Druid priestess. I’m looking forward to meeting her. Would you ask her to come in next, please.”
Michael swallowed hard so that his large Adam’s apple bounced up and down. “She sent a message to say that she wasn’t to be disturbed during her meditation. You can come down to her when you’ve finished up here.”
“Damned cheek,” Hughes muttered. “Does she always behave like this, Michael?”
“Oh, she fully believes this is her center,” Michael said. “Or it should be. But you have to speak to her yourself. Then you’ll get the idea. So there’s nothing more you want from me now?”
“Make sure you check with security that he really was gone all afternoon that day, Evans,” Hughes said as Michael shut the door behind him. “I’d imagine he’d be happier than anyone to be rid of his stepfather and get back to university life.”
“Yes, but you don’t go around killing people just to get back to uni, do you, sir?” Evan chuckled. “Or just because you don’t like somebody. You have to be pretty desperate to kill in my experience—back against the wall.”
“Yes, quite,” Hughes said crisply, reminding Evan that it was probably rather tactless to talk about his experience in solving murders. On the whole he had been rather more successful at it than Inspector Hughes.
“So what do you want to do about Rhiannon, sir?” he asked quickly. “Do you want me to go and fetch her?”
Hughes gave a little half smile. “I don’t want to risk your being turned into a toad or a tree stump, Constable. If we’ve finished up here, then I suggest we pay her that visit. The mountain will go to Mohammed.”
Chapter 18
The Druid Ceremony
We believe in the concept of circularity.
Life is a circle.
Death, life, regeneration, and rebirth.
The soul does not die, but is reincarnated.
Death is merely a point of change in a perpetual existence.
Therefore, we use the circle as our symbol. It symbolizes wholeness and eternity.
In the center of the circle is the still point of being and not being.
The place inside the circle is the sacred area in which humans can reach the spiritual plane. In the center of the circle is the cone of power, creating a link between natural and supernatural, reaching to the otherworld.
This is why we cast the circle at the beginning of our ceremonies.
This is why our sacrifices take place within the circle, where the Gods can reach down to accept our offerings.