Erin Hart - Haunted Ground

“But in that case, why interfere with Dr. Gavin and myself? We’ve nothing to do with whether or not the project goes through. And there’s no equipment missing. Surely if someone wanted to delay the work at the priory, they could have just stolen or damaged the equipment. Or sabotaged the site.”

“Maybe delay wasn’t enough. Maybe someone wanted to bring it to a stop.” Devaney pressed further: “Did you know that the priory land abutted Drumcleggan Bog? And that it’s the subject of a rather heated dispute at the moment?”

“Hugh did mention it, but only once, when we first arrived. I’d seen the signs posted along the road—you know the ones I mean—and when I asked what they were about, he told me, but didn’t seem particularly worried. Then the day after we arrived, I was out at the site. Brendan McGann and I had a few brief words. He’s evidently not keen on the plans for the priory. He said if I were smart, I’d pack up and go home to Dublin, and not get mixed up in things that had nothing to do with me.”

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Devaney asked.

“It just seemed like idle talk. Bluster.”

“What’s your impression of Brendan McGann?”

“I’ve only met him a couple of times. He seems to me an unhappy sort of man. Doesn’t like Hugh Osborne; that much is very clear. But you live here, Detective; you probably know the why of it better than I do.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Devaney said. “As I told Osborne, in all likelihood this isn’t related to his wife’s disappearance, but until we know more, we can’t rule anything out. May I offer some advice to you and Dr. Gavin? Mind yourselves—this may not be an isolated incident.”

“No.”

“Was there something else you wanted to tell me?”

“When I went to call Dr. Gavin this morning, she told me someone left a dead crow in her room last night. We were actually on our way to phone you when we found the cars. I only hesitated telling you because I didn’t actually see the thing—it’s probably better if you ask her directly.”

“I will,” Devaney said, excusing him.

Dr. Gavin was eager to talk. Devaney indicated one of the overstuffed armchairs. “Shall we start with last night? Just describe what happened from, say, late afternoon onward. Whatever you can recall.”

“Cormac and I came back from Mrs. Cleary’s about five-thirty, I suppose. We had a bit of a mishap on the road, so we were both pretty well covered in mud. I had a bath, and Cormac got cleaned up as well. Afterwards, we had supper in the kitchen, then sat in Cormac’s room and talked.” Both of them were holding something back about that conversation, Devaney thought. “I must have gone back to my room around midnight, I think.”

“And where were Lucy and Jeremy Osborne?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t actually see anyone.” She stopped suddenly. “I thought I heard someone in the stairwell when I came out of Cormac’s room. But when I looked, there wasn’t anyone there, just an empty bottle on the floor.”

“What sort of a bottle?”

“A whiskey bottle. I threw it away when I got to my room.” Devaney waited. “I could tell there was something wrong; the bed was rumpled. When I pulled back the covers I found that someone had left me a message. There was a dead crow in the bed. My first thought was to call you—”

“You should have.”

“Yes, I know. But whoever left it there meant to frighten me, and I wasn’t about to give them any satisfaction. So I threw it out the window.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wrapped it up in the bedsheets and threw it out the window. And when I looked out this morning, it was gone.”

Devaney felt a sharp twinge just behind his eyebrows. “Who would want to frighten you?”

“I’m not sure. But I don’t think it was the first time. I got a strange phone call when I was home in Dublin last Monday. It was late at night, and the person—I couldn’t tell who it was, or even whether it was a man or a woman—just said, ‘Leave it alone. They’re better off.’”

“You’re absolutely certain those were the words?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I tried to get the person to say more, but whoever it was hung up.”

“Is there anything else you can remember from the past few days, any little thing that seems amiss or odd in any way?”

“When I came back from Dublin a few days ago, I found broken glass all over the floor of my bathroom. At the time, I thought it must have been an accident. Now I’m not so sure. When I went to get a broom to sweep it up, I came across Lucy Osborne, down on her knees scrubbing the floor in the front hall. All done up like a cleaning woman, head scarf and everything. I don’t know, it was just odd. She said her cleaner, Mrs. Hernan, was down with a flu, but for some reason, I don’t really know why, I didn’t believe her. It was something in the way she handled the brush and the bucket—like she was used to it.”

“Let’s go back to the crow for a moment. Whoever put it in your room had access to this house. Hugh Osborne says he was in London last night and didn’t get back until this morning. If his story checks out, that leaves Lucy or Jeremy, and why would either of them want to warn you off? What have you been doing here?”

“Nothing. I’ve done nothing to provoke anyone, unless—” Dr. Gavin began absently fingering the brass nail heads that stood out on the arm of her chair. She continued: “I was wandering around upstairs one day—by the way, did you know there’s a painting studio way up on the top floor?”

Devaney nodded. “It’s Mina Osborne’s.”

“I came downstairs when I heard a child’s voice—it turned out to be a video of Mina and Christopher Osborne. And I found Jeremy sleeping in the next room, a nursery, in a child’s bed. That’s when Lucy came in. She wasn’t happy to see either of us in that room.” She paused again, and Devaney could see that she was wrestling with whether to tell him any more. “Cormac probably told you that Jeremy is helping with the work at the priory. I’ve caught him a couple of times, staring at me.” She sighed. “He may be upset because he thinks Cormac and I don’t want him around.”

“And do you?” Devaney asked. She was flustered by his question, and colored deeply. “I don’t mean to pry; it’s important that I have all the facts.”

“We weren’t actually trying to get rid of him. I just can’t see Lucy Osborne putting a rotten animal carcass in someone’s bed; it’s so completely out of character. I wish I could be so sure about Jeremy. But he doesn’t strike me as the kind of kid who’d go around bashing things. And the other thing is, if the damage to the cars was meant to scare us off, it was a pretty poor job, since we can’t leave without them.”

Devaney was with her on that point. It seemed unwise to assume that all of the previous night’s events were somehow related.

When he opened the door for Dr. Gavin, Devaney found Lucy Osborne sitting in the foyer, waiting to give a statement. Although her windows faced the drive, she had little to add.

“I’m a very light sleeper,” she said, “and normally would have been awakened by the slightest noise in the yard, but I hadn’t slept well for a couple of nights previous, and decided I’d take one of my tablets to see if I couldn’t get a decent rest. I’m very sorry not to be more help. Have you any idea who would do such a thing?”

“Have you?”

“The local villagers are nothing but ruffians, the lot. I wouldn’t put this sort of thing past any one of them.” She got up to leave the room.

“You do a lot of gardening, Mrs. Osborne?”

“Flowers are my passion, as you may have gathered.”