The story spread beyond the boundaries of the valley as soon as the press got hold of it. Journalists stalked the hospital in the early hours, searching for information on the arrested suspect and a woman called "Nancy" whose arm had been broken in a hammer attack. The police would only confirm the name of the murdered man and the fact that the suspect was a traveler from the site at Shenstead. However, word leaked out-via Ivo and his mobile when he spotted an opportunity to make money through checkbook journalism-that "Nancy" was Colonel Lockyer-Fox's illegitimate granddaughter, and parallels were drawn between the attack on her and Ailsa's death in March. Why was the Colonel's family being targeted?
The issue of illegitimacy added spice to the story and the search was on to find her biological mother and her adoptive mother. Fortunately, Ivo remained coy about her rank and surname, recognizing that he wouldn't be paid for information over a telephone line, which gave Bella time to take him apart before he could sneak out and make contact with a reporter. She confiscated his mobile and suggested the Colonel lock him in the cellar for the night, but, in the absence of Mark, who had driven Nancy to the hospital, James chose instead to match the money offered by the newspaper.
"You are no different from your friend Fox," he told Ivo as he wrote a check to cash with an accompanying letter to his bank. "You both believe in destroying lives to benefit yourselves. However, I would have given Fox everything I have in exchange for my wife, and I consider this a small price to pay for my granddaughter's peace of mind."
"Each to his own," said Ivo, tucking the check and the letter into his pocket and grinning maliciously at Bella, who was leaning against the library wall, "but you'd better approve this if the bank phones. You offered it fair and square so there's no going back."
James smiled. "I always honor my promises, Ivo. You'll have no trouble at the bank as long as you honor yours."
"It's a deal, then."
"Yes." The old man stood up behind his desk. "Now will you please leave my house?"
"You've gotta be joking. It's two o'clock in the morning. My wife and kids are asleep upstairs."
"They're welcome to stay. You are not, however." He nodded to Bella. "Will you ask Sean Wyatt to come in here, my dear?"
"Why do you want the copper?" demanded Ivo.
"To have you arrested if you don't leave immediately. You have exploited my distress over my wife's murder, my gardener's murder, and the attempted murder of my granddaughter to coerce blood money out of me. You either leave now and cash that check as soon as the bank opens, or you spend the night with your friend at the police station. Whichever way, once you've left this house, you will not come back into it."
Ivo's eyes darted nervously toward Bella. "You'd better not make out I had anything to do with Fox. I didn't know him from Adam before the selection meeting."
"Maybe not," she said, easing herself away from the wall and opening the door into the hall, "but the Colonel's right. There ain't much difference between you and him. You both reckon you're more important than anyone else. Now, come on, shift your arse before I decide to tell the coppers about the nicked stuff in your bus."
"What about my wife and kids?" he complained, as James rounded the desk and forced him to walk backward. "I need to tell them what's going on."
"No."
"How am I supposed to get hold of them without a bloody phone?"
James looked amused. "Perhaps you should have thought of that first."
"Shit!" He allowed himself to be shepherded into the hall. "This is a fucking kangaroo court."
"Will you stop with the whining!" said Bella disgustedly, pulling the bolts on the front door and dragging it open.
"You've got your thirty pieces of silver. Now beat it before I change my mind about dropping you in it."
"I need my coat," he said as a blast of cold air blew in.
"Fuck that!" She manhandled him through the opening and pushed the door closed again with a massive shoulder. "The cops won't let him back on the campsite," she said, "so he's gonna freeze his arse off unless he wants to explain why you've thrown him out." She chuckled at James's expression. "But I guess you'd worked that out already."
He took her arm. "Let's have a brandy, my dear. I think we've earned it, don't you?"
The valley itself came under siege as soon as the roadblocks were removed at daybreak on the twenty-seventh, and any hope anyone had had of keeping a low profile evaporated. The Manor and the Copse remained under police guard but the tenant farmers, the Bartletts, and the Weldons found themselves at the mercy of the press and the broadcasting media. Shenstead House attracted the most attention because of Julian's remarks on travelers in the local newspaper. A copy was posted through the door, and his phone rang continuously until he disconnected it. Photographers hung around outside his windows, waiting for pictures while reporters shouted questions.
"Do you feel responsible because it's a traveler who did it?"… "Did you set the dogs on them? Is that what started this?"… "Did you call them thieves to their faces?"… "Do you know who this man is? Has he been to Shenstead before?"… "What's his interest in the Manor? Why did he kill the gardener?"… "Why did he attack the Colonel's granddaughter?"… "Do you think he was responsible for Mrs. Lockyer-Fox's death?"
Inside the house, Eleanor sat in huddled, gray misery in the kitchen while Julian, looking little better, paced his study behind closed curtains. Every attempt he'd made to contact Gemma on her mobile had been diverted to voicemail, as had his attempts to raise Dick Weldon. Both mobiles were switched off, and the landlines to Shenstead Farm and the Squires's farm were permanently engaged, suggesting they, too, had been disconnected. His only email contact with Gemma was at her office, which was closed until after the New Year, and his frustration grew with his inability to find out what was going on.
There was no one else to phone except the police, and in the end that's what Julian did, asking to speak to DS Monroe. "We need help," he told him. "I'm worried sick that these bastards are going to learn about my wife's phone calls, and then what are we going to do?"
"There's no reason why they should."
"Are you expecting me to take your word for that?" demanded Julian. "No one's telling us what's going on. Who's this man you've arrested? What's he saying?"
Monroe broke off to talk to someone in the background. "I'll be coming out to talk to you later, sir, but in the meantime I suggest you and Mrs. Bartlett stay out of sight. Now, if you'll excuse-"
"You can't just leave it at that," Julian broke in angrily.
"What else do you want to know, sir?"
Julian ran an irritable hand up the back of his neck. "These reporters are saying the Colonel's granddaughter was attacked as well. Is that true?" There were more voices at the other end, and it stoked his ire to be relegated to second place. "Are you listening?" he barked.
"Sorry, sir. Yes, her arm was broken, I'm afraid, but she's on the mend now. Look, my best advice is to keep your head down and stay quiet."
"Bugger that!" said Julian aggressively. "We're effectively imprisoned by these bastards. They're trying to photograph us through the windows."
"Everyone's in the same boat, sir. You'll have to be patient."
"I'm not prepared to be patient," he snapped. "I want this scum removed from my doorstep and I want to know what's going on. All we were told last night was that a man had been arrested… but from the questions being shouted through the letterbox, he's one of the travelers."