Healers by Ann Cleeves Read Free Book Online

helplessly at Lily. “Seven-thirty on Sunday morning.”
    “By man, that was a long walk,” Hunter said, scenting blood. It would all be over by the end of the day.
    “I met some friends.”
    “Just bumped into them, did you, out on the lanes?”
    “It was a bit like that,” Sean said. “They were parked in the gypsy transit site.”
    “And what were they called, these friends of yours? Just in case we want to check your story.”
    “Wes and Lorna,” Sean said. “They’ve got a little girl called Briony.”
    “Surnames?” asked Hunter.
    “I’m not sure,” Sean said. “I don’t think I ever knew.” He looked at Lily again.
    “Don’t ask me,” she said, “I never met them.”
    “Will they still be at the transit site?” Ramsay asked quietly.
    Sean shook his head sadly. “They were moving on yesterday. They dropped me off on the way.”
    “What vehicle were they driving?”
    “A blue Transit.”
    “Registration number?”
    “How would I know?” He was starting to get rattled.
    “I don’t suppose you know where they were going either?” Hunter said.
    “No. They didn’t say.”
    He stared ahead with his blank eyes.
    Ramsay was intrigued by the midnight wanderings and would have liked to ask more, but knew this wasn’t the time. He turned his attention to Lily.
    “Did you go out on Saturday night?”
    “No,” she said angrily. “I was too bloody tired after a day at work.”
    “Did you hear the Land-Rover return?”
    “Yes,” she said. “I was surprised because he came back earlier than I’d expected. Tennish. Before the pubs had closed anyway.”
    “Did Mr. Bowles have anyone with him?” Ramsay asked. “Perhaps you heard voices.”
    She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean that he didn’t bring someone back with him. You can hear the Land-Rover a mile away -I think the exhaust must have gone. I’m sure I’d not have heard people talking in the yard. The windows were closed and I was listening to the radio.”
    “Had you talked to Mr. Bowles earlier in the day? Did he mention where he might be going?”
    “No. Like I said, recently we’ve tried to keep out of his way.”
    “And neither of you saw him at all yesterday?”
    They shook their heads.
    “Didn’t that strike you as odd?”
    “No,” Lily said dismissively. “He was a heavy drinker. I suppose I thought he was sleeping off the effects of the night before. That wouldn’t have been unusual. When Cissie was alive she used to drag him off to the chapel but I don’t think he’s been near the place since her funeral.”
    “Were there any visitors to the farm?”
    “I didn’t see anyone but I was out all afternoon.”
    “How did you spend Sunday?”
    “We walked into Mittingford to have lunch with friends. The Abbots. They work at the Old Chapel too. And to use their shower. You need friends when you live like this.”
    “Did you both go?”
    “Yes,” she said with irritation. “You can check if you like.”
    “Oh yes, Ms Jackman,” Ramsay said, ‘you can be sure that we will.”
    Chapter Six
    They were at Laverock Farm until mid-afternoon, mostly hanging about, waiting for the experts to finish, for reinforcements from the Otterbridge team. Then Ramsay sent Hunter back to Mittingford to supervise the setting up of the incident room. Hunter, at least, knew how he liked things.
    “I’ll go to talk to the neighbour,” Ramsay said. “Richardson. The one whose lad had a go at Ernie Bowles in the pub. We’ll need someone to manage the livestock until a sale can be arranged. Besides, I’m interested to meet the boy.”
    Hunter nodded but he thought Ramsay was wasting his time. He had Sean Slater down for the murder. There was something odd about him; the glazed expression, the way he looked at the girl, the improbable alibi. He was on the point of betting Ramsay a tenner that they’d have Slater for it in the end, but thought better of it. You could never tell how he’d take things like that.
    The