Lee Weeks: Frozen Grave

‘Thanks. Great help.’

‘Have we got wellingtons?’ asked Tucker. They looked at one another.

‘Straight answer – no,’ said Carter. ‘We’ll just have to prepare to get muddy.’

They set off up the hill and crossed the road. They kept to the tufts of grass between the bog areas frosted with ice as they walked up towards the Tor and then veered right. They found the entrance to the quarry and opened the gate. Saplings had rooted on the sides of the cliff face. Beyond them was a sheer drop.

‘Christ, that’s a long way down,’ said Carter as he stepped closer to the edge.

‘You’d think you wouldn’t be allowed to have something so dangerous without a railing in front of it,’ said Willis, recoiling from the edge.

‘Willis – you’re such a townie!’ Tucker laughed at her. ‘It’s not all about sanitizing. This isn’t Disneyworld.’

‘Point taken – but you’ve got to have deaths off here?’

‘Suicides, yes, tragically, and the odd dog falls off, or sheep.’

‘Clever sheep to open the gate,’ said Carter.

‘There’s another way to get in here from the back,’ said Tucker.

Willis looked down at the frozen water. ‘How deep is it?’

‘Fathomless.’ Tucker turned back and smiled at her. He was enjoying exposing the Londoners to a bit of ridicule. ‘Legend has it – it has no bottom to it and it calls for a new victim to be sacrificed to it every year.’

‘Cut the crap, Tucker.’ Carter stopped walking and listened – the icy wind had dropped as they descended into the quarry. There was an oppressive stillness. As they walked further down and wound their way around the outside of the first of the three lakes, they saw a figure standing at the far side, in a sharp cut-out in the granite rock. The figure turned and studied them.

Megan Penarth came down from her place and walked towards them. In her hand were bunches of bright yellow gorse; she was watching the three people but she kept her eyes mainly on Tucker. When she was within hearing distance, she said, ‘Strangers in the quarry – always a bad idea in civilian clothes.’ She smiled. ‘Detective Tucker, I presume?’

‘Morning, Megan. I’ve brought a couple of Londoners down to talk to you.’

‘Great – fresh meat.’ She came level with them and smiled at Carter. ‘Only joking.’ Her eyes were red-rimmed from the cold. Willis waited her turn. Megan glanced round to acknowledge her and there was a peculiar softness in her eyes. She reached out to touch Willis on the hand. ‘You’re freezing.’

Willis felt no warmth coming from Megan’s hand – it was a block of ice. Willis shivered.

‘This is an eerie place,’ Tucker said, looking about him.

‘Yes, the place of legends.’

Willis was distracted, looking at a bunch of roses drying on a rock. Her eyes went upwards to the top of the cliff directly above.

‘It’s a sad place sometimes, did you hear about the tragedy of the suicide a couple of months ago?’ asked Megan.

‘I saw it on the news. It was here?’

‘Yes.’

‘It would be awful to come here for that; such a lonely-feeling place,’ said Willis.

‘Ideal then.’ Megan smiled at her. ‘It’s not that lonely for me. I am surrounded by friends here.’

‘I was telling them about the legends here. The water claims another person each year,’ Tucker said.

‘You’re thinking of the legend about the River Dart crying when it wants to claim a new heart. They say it’s a meteorological fact that it makes the sound like crying when the weather is getting bad, gales are coming and the river is swelling. I suppose in the old days when people had to cross it, there were many lives lost. It must have seemed like a curse. But here in this quarry, the water doesn’t ever disappear. It’s very deep. Surprising it freezes as often as it does.’

‘You love it here?’ asked Willis, looking around at the granite rockface.

‘Yes, I do. My husband loved it here. He came here every day. He was a Wiccan. A Wiccan believes in the power of nature’s spirits.’

‘What about you?’ asked Carter.

‘Yes – I guess I believe in it too. I believe in two gods – the Moon Goddess and the Horned God.’ She smiled at the expression that was creeping across his face. ‘It’s just the male and female sides of the universe, equal and necessary to one another. Yin and yang.’

‘You’re a witch too?’ asked Carter.

‘Not really. I just believe in the power of certain things: moon, stars, earth, sun.’

Her dark eyes were watching him intently – they were bright in the gloom.

‘What is it about this quarry that makes it special to you?’ asked Carter. ‘The landlady at the pub says you come up here most days.’

She shook her head. ‘Just a world of its own in here. Its own climate; its own life. I feel connected here. It gives me inspiration for my work. There – I’ve made you think I’m a complete nutter. Do you want to follow me back to my coven for a witch’s brew, otherwise known as a coffee?’

‘Sounds perfect.’ Carter smiled.

‘Come with me.’

She led them back and up out of the quarry.

Halfway up, Willis stopped.

‘Megan, do you mind me asking? What happens to Wiccans when they die?’

Megan stopped and turned and smiled at Willis.

‘You feel their presence here, don’t you?’

‘Just curious.’

‘Decomposition should happen as fast as possible. No casket, just a cloth and then laid in the ground, or left in the air, placed in the water, so that you can nourish other life quickly.’

‘Are there places you can bury someone like that?’

‘Yes.’

She turned and led them away from the quarry.

‘Please come in, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable.’ They took their muddy shoes off at the door and stepped inside the warm kitchen as Megan stood on a stool and hung the gorse up to dry from the hooks above the dresser. She got down and slid the kettle across onto the top of the Aga.

‘What can I help you with? You have questions you’d like answers to?’

‘Since the last time I saw you, have you had any calls from the women on the list or contact with Ellerman?’ asked Tucker. ‘I understand you went to meet some of the other women.’

‘Yes… I did… last Wednesday. I went to Reading, to meet them in a coffee shop.’

‘Who did you meet exactly?’

‘I met Paula, Emily and Lisa. I can’t believe Lisa is dead.’

‘Who told you?’ asked Carter.

‘Paula – she was very upset – we all are.’

‘Do you and Paula talk often?’

She laughed. ‘We have a lot in common.’

‘How did the meeting go?’ asked Carter. Willis was already taping Megan Penarth’s voice but it hadn’t escaped her notice.

‘It went fine.’ She smiled curiously at Willis.

‘Who called the meeting?’

‘Me.’

‘Why? What reason did you have to do it?’

‘I called the meeting because I felt we all had a lot to discuss – after all, I was the newcomer in terms of knowing JJ but some of these women had known him for years. I felt they needed support. I mean, how difficult must it be to find out something like that?’

‘Something like what?’

‘Like the fact you’re part of a harem.’

‘How did you part that day?’

‘As friends, I hope.’

‘How did you leave it? Were there any decisions made about going forward?’

‘Going forward?’ Megan asked. Willis wrote in her notebook: She repeats question – giving her time to think of an answer.

‘We left it in the air – we decided to support one another as best we could.’

‘Did you stay in London that evening?’