Martin Edwards - The Hanging Wood

‘No temper?’

‘None. Mike Hinds hated him because he was ashamed to have a brother who suffered from learning difficulties. They’d grown up together in less enlightened times, but Mike Hinds has not an ounce of compassion in his make-up. Whereas Philip was kind and generous to Orla and Callum, perhaps because he was childlike, too. As time passed, we became desperate, and Niamh was drinking herself into oblivion. The search spread out — not just police officers, but people from all around took part.’

‘Where else did you search?’

‘We combed the gardens of St Herbert’s Library, although to the best of my knowledge, Callum never spent time there. It wasn’t so easy to get permission to look round the Mockbeggar Estate. You’d think that, with a teenager missing, anyone would be glad to do whatever they could to help. Not the old man, Alfred Hopes. He was a recluse, obsessive about personal privacy. Said it was out of the question that Callum could have trespassed on his land. Patently absurd — the grounds were fenced off, but not so effectively that an active boy could be kept out if he was determined to get in.’

‘Did Callum frequent the Mockbeggar Estate?’

‘Not to my knowledge, but we didn’t dare rule it out. The grounds were a jungle, and we were desperate to search them, just in case Callum had got in and then suffered some kind of accident.’

‘Hopes didn’t prevent a search in the end, did he?’

‘No, but he delayed it. He was selfish to a fault. It wouldn’t have hurt him to cooperate from the outset.’

‘Was there any reason to believe that he had an ulterior motive for delaying the search?’

‘Good Lord, no.’ Kit Payne’s eyebrows jumped. ‘Because he lived so close, he would have been aware of Callum’s existence, but I doubt their paths ever crossed. At that time, he was in his late sixties, and suffered from asthma, diabetes, and very severe hypochondria as well. A succession of housekeepers tended to his wants, as well as carers to look after his son Jolyon, who was confined to a wheelchair. They were a sad pair, father and son. They never got on, although Jolyon’s accident bound them together permanently. The old man suspected his boy was a closet homosexual, and that was anathema to a curmudgeon of his vintage. The pair of them felt more at ease with their beloved dogs than fellow human beings.’

‘But Fleur Madsen isn’t like that?’

‘Utterly the reverse, she’s the most charming woman I’ve ever met. I’ve heard her say she thanks God she takes after her mother’s side of the family. Of course, she made her escape from Mockbeggar Hall once she teamed up with Bryan. It was thanks to her that we finally managed to undertake a search of the estate. She persuaded Alfred to allow Gareth to lead a search party.’

‘Why Gareth?’

‘Alfred Hopes and Hinds never got on, and Bryan was recovering from a serious car crash, while Joseph Madsen suffered from persistent ill health. I was occupied with caring for Niamh and Orla. Hinds led a party of his workmen searching the open countryside. Obviously there was a chance Callum had fallen down a ravine or off a fell side, even though he normally kept close to home.’

‘But none of the searches found him.’

‘I suppose we didn’t expect them to. We heard the police were interviewing Philip Hinds in connection with Callum’s disappearance.’

‘What was your take on that news? No smoke without fire?’

‘Putting it like that, Chief Inspector, makes it sound like a witch-hunt. But don’t forget, Hinds’ son was missing. That is why he was prepared to think the unthinkable. That his own brother was responsible for Callum’s death. And then Philip committed suicide.’

‘Perhaps he was just frightened. I’ve read the transcript of his interview. It must have been a terrible ordeal for a man like Philip Hinds.’

‘I’m sure. But when he went home to the Hanging Wood and strung himself up, people drew the inevitable conclusion. I found the body, you know. It is something I shall never, ever forget.’

Down below the balcony, a group of passing teenagers burst into laughter. Their accents were public school posh, their clothes bore designer labels. Hannah and Greg might have been gatecrashing a hideaway for the rich and powerful. Come to think of it, that was exactly what they were doing.

‘According to the file, Philip’s pig went missing, as well as Callum?’

‘Yes. What happened to it, nobody knew.’

‘Bit odd, that the pig should vanish?’

‘There was a rumour that Mike Hinds slaughtered it in a rage, because it had devoured his son, but who could ever prove it?’

‘There was no proof Callum died in the Hanging Wood, or that his remains had been disposed of, or eaten by the pig. This is the countryside, the animal might have gone anywhere. With the pig gone, no tests could be carried out. Forensics hit a blank wall.’

‘We didn’t hear quite so much about DNA evidence in those days, Chief Inspector.’

‘This was only twenty years ago, not the Dark Ages. Genetic fingerprinting was in its infancy, but the detectives who investigated weren’t idiots. They couldn’t find any evidence of what happened to your stepson.’

A weary sigh. ‘The likelihood that Callum was dead shocked me, and devastated my wife. She never properly recovered. If you ask me, three people died in the Hanging Wood, not two.’

‘Yet we don’t know for sure that Callum did die there.’

‘Philip may have buried the body somewhere, but it wasn’t practical to excavate the whole of the Hanging Wood.’

‘Did Philip strike you as a potential killer?’

Kit Payne spread his arms. ‘What do killers look like, how do they behave? Did Philip have the instincts of a paedophile? With hindsight, I simply can’t be sure.’

‘Presumably neither you nor Niamh thought he was a risk, or you wouldn’t have allowed the two children to visit the cottage in the Hanging Wood?’

Kit frowned. ‘One possibility was that Philip put his arm round Callum in a clumsy gesture of affection, or did something else that my stepson misconstrued. Another was that Callum caught him masturbating in the cottage, and said something cruel. If there was a struggle, Callum’s head might have banged against a wall or something. Philip would be terrified by the prospect of trying to explain why the boy was hurt, or even dead. Maybe feeding him to the pig seemed like the easiest solution.’

Quite a long speech, and it sounded rehearsed, as if Kit had his narrative of events ready and waiting for the day when he was questioned.

Hannah stretched out her legs and treated him to a saccharine smile.

Time to rattle his cage.

‘Who else had a reason to harm your stepson?’

So Orla believed Callum Hinds had metamorphosed into Aslan Sheikh? Daniel would have been less startled if the principal had proposed a bonfire of every rare book in St Herbert’s. He gulped down half a cup of coffee, heedless that it scalded his tongue.

‘You’re joking.’

The principal squinted in disapproval. ‘This is no laughing matter.’

Daniel swallowed more coffee. The revelation was all the more bizarre because it came in such august surroundings from the lips of a mild-mannered exponent of civilised understatement.

‘Let me explain,’ Micah Bridge said, in tutorial mode. ‘Starting with the hiring of Aslan, a task I undertook against my better judgement.’

Daniel nodded. The principal was wont to complain that he possessed no experience in human resource management, yet the trustees expected him to mastermind recruitment, performance and discipline of the entire workforce at St Herbert’s.