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  Owen surprised many by his speech, a collection of anecdotes that brought both tears of laughter and moments of reflection.

  Cyril and Julie’s leaving in the Bentley was traditional. The clatter of tin cans on strings followed the car through the gates of the castle before turning towards the road. Julie laughed on seeing the police motorcycle. They would be escorted only a short way to the ring road but the gesture made both Cyril and Julie proud.

  “It’s been wonderful, Cyril. A fortnight away.” She rested her hand on his thigh as they drove towards Harrogate.

  Chapter Six

  The talk within Harrogate police station had centred on the wedding and the fact that a number of people doubted whether Cyril could stay away for the duration of the honeymoon. He would use some spurious reason to get in touch if only by phone. Owen had felt nervous about looking after the department but he had been reassured that his concerns were only natural. As they said, he had done it in the past as a DS so as an Inspector, it would be plain sailing.

  Quinn stood with Smirthwaite in Incident Room Three. The initial Forensics results had been added to the second board; the first being reserved for the personal details of the two victims.

  “So how long had Barbara Perry been a carer for Lyons?” Brian Smirthwaite looked at the photograph of the young woman.

  Quinn let his finger follow the list of key events on the board. “Just over four months.”

  “She can’t be the only carer?”

  Quinn shook his head. “No, we’ll have completed interviews with the others in the team shortly but from the results so far they’d not a bad word to say about George Lyons. What’s interesting with Barbara’s appointment that day, and it may hold some relevance, is that she was late by some forty minutes. There was a cyclist killed at the junction on Forest Moor Road, young woman, teacher. All traffic was diverted as investigation work took place.”

  “If it were murder and it was planned then the killer would have believed that the carer would be well gone. She was normally there for … what? Twenty minutes?”

  “Twenty to thirty according to the Head of Care and I quote. ‘Yes, he liked to chat. You must remember our clients may not see anyone during their day other than the carers we put in place, but it means these vulnerable people can stay in their homes, that is what they want and that is what George wanted.’” Quinn added a high-pitched, matronly tone and pulled a face as he read it. It brought a smile.

  “Our killer would have known that the carer hadn’t been as George was still in his pyjamas.” Smirthwaite tapped his fingers on the board.

  “Going back to collect the weapon? Took longer than planned? Interrupted by the carer? What if the snake had been released the day before, let’s say for argument’s sake, popped through the letter box …” Quinn did not finish as Smirthwaite’s laughter at the thought stopped him mid-sentence.

  “Bloody hell, Quinn, where do you get this stuff? A snake would have vanished down a hole or gone in search of a mouse, and there must have been a few of those knocking about. How do you make out a snake could be a weapon?”

  Quinn flushed bright red.

  “If you want to kill someone, Quinn, you bring a gun, a knife and even a plastic bag. If you want to do it subtly you can scare the old bugger to death … but a snake … I can’t suspend my disbelief that far, my friend.” He laughed again. “Superman, flying cars, James Bond, yes, but this theory?”

  Quinn raised a finger. “Un moment s'il vous plaît.” His annoyance was evident as he moved to the nearest computer, tapped in his password before trawling for the file he required. “Take a minute and read this. It might show you the holes, Thomas.”

  “Bria…” He stopped himself but not before realising he too was now red-faced. Smirthwaite reluctantly moved in front of the screen and started to read.

  “These are reports stored at The School of Tropical Medicine in Liverpool. As you can see the Russell snake is neither the most aggressive nor is it the most lethal but it can be both of those. The first report tells of one being planted in a villager’s hut and the snake, trapped within the confines, attacked the occupant. It was later discovered that the victim was owed money and the man in his debt had placed the snake in the belief that it might attack. There are three or four cases. What can’t be guaranteed is death but what can be seen from studying the symptoms of this specific snake’s bite and venom is that it causes traumatic and painful injuries. Depending on the age and infirmity of the victim it could result in death. Considering Lyons’s age, it can be correctly assumed that whoever brought that snake to the house had murder on their mind.”

  Smirthwaite continued to read.

  “If you also look at the initial findings reported at the crime scene the place was secure apart from the front door. That had been opened by the carer and also the paramedic had used the same entry point. The only other possible entry point noted was the toilet window, it was open and where was our main victim found? The toilet is separate from the bathroom and is literally the smallest room in the bungalow. Assuming the door was closed and the snake dropped in there … man meets snake in the dark … Bingo!”

  “So how is the snake collected?”

  “He or she knew the code for the key safe holding the key to the front door? Let’s assume male for now?”

  Smirthwaite nodded.

  “Let’s consider that he opened the door before popping the key back in and then closed the door. He would then look for the snake. Had Lyons closed the toilet door it would be there but if not, it could have been anywhere in the house. Had the snake been located quickly he’d have been gone, but my guess is that he was distracted. The problem came with Barbara’s arrival.”

  “Do we have evidence of all of this?”

  “Nope! We do, however, have two bodies in the morgue and the initial autopsy results tell us they both died from bites from a Russell’s viper and as far as I’m aware this snake is not native to North Yorkshire. As you know, anyone keeping this type of snake has to hold a licence under The Dangerous Animal Act of 1976.”

  “Not supposed to breed fighting dogs but people do.”

  “True.”

  “I rest my case.” There was a degree of uncertainty in Smirthwaite’s voice as he asked the next question. “So, we’ve checked all the licence holders of such creatures, Quinn?”

  “Within a fifty-mile radius and we have exactly …” He let the pause linger and could see from Smirthwaite’s face that he expected it to be none. “Three are registered licence keepers.”

  “Zoos?”

  “No, two individuals and a pet shop owner.”

  “Your average man in the street can keep these things?” Smirthwaite whistled before walking back to the boards, his demeanour had changed within the last few minutes. “So, have we checked them?”

  “All present and correct. None was near the crime scene on that day and, we can assume, neither were their pets.”

  ***

  The technique was well-rehearsed as the squidger forced the yellow wink to fly across the felt-covered table top before falling directly in the red, wooden cup. There was no indication of success showing on Leonard’s face. It was expected, essential that he achieved one hundred percent accuracy every time he played. He went to the green, then the red. His mother glanced in and smiled; the net curtains shaded the sun and cast dappled patterns across the wall. He would be there until he failed to hit the target and then he would let her know with a cry of anguish that would shatter the peace, a stubborn recalcitrance that had developed the older he had grown.

  Leonard looked too old to be playing this solitary game with such enthusiasm, just as he had yesterday, the day before, and would do tomorrow. At thirty he should be working; possibly teaching his own children the rules of the game – but a freak accident at birth had deprived his brain of oxygen and his mental and emotional capacity was locked at the age of seven. Strangely, the nurse had said that he had had his breath stolen but which
ever way they expressed it the consequences were the same. To compound matters, being an accident, the result of a drunken fling, the father had left not long after the repercussions of the birth difficulties had been fully explained. His mother had raised him with a strength of love that could only be admired; it had been a struggle but one she had faced bravely. Penny, the young mother, had taught him the basics one would teach to any child. He could go to the toilet, wash and dress himself with little difficulty, use a knife and fork with great dexterity and although he could not tolerate children or dogs, he enjoyed the company of the elderly. However, it was inevitable that throughout his life he had been overly protected. His early venture into the care of a special school had been a disaster and his mother, although never completing her teacher training, had deemed it sensible to homeschool him.

  Even now he was completely protected as they would always walk hand in hand. His anxiety was apparent as he shunned the contact of others, particularly the young. On seeing another child, he would be heard repeatedly shouting, “He’s looking at me!” There would be genuine fear in his voice as this man, six feet tall, tried to hide behind his diminutive parent. As a consequence, his mother would pull his hat below his eyes to make them disappear, and he would calm and be led away. The local children found this both amusing and exciting if a little worrying and therefore trips out for Leonard were carefully planned.

  Earlier in his childhood, his mother had been given a puppy by a neighbour and she believed caring for the dog would help his emotional development as he would take responsibility for feeding the animal. She also felt that he would enjoy its company and he would bond with it as it grew. However, to her amazement it had the opposite effect. He had been fine when the three of them were together and when the pup played, but when he was alone with the dog, she witnessed his cruelty for the first time. Within weeks the dog was returned and pets and animals were not brought into the house. Life quickly returned to normal and Leonard neither asked about the dog nor missed it.

  Being alone or with the elderly was all he craved and tiddlywinks proved to be his sole achievement even though it was only witnessed by his mother and very close friends. There was one anomaly. Leonard had a fixation about the elderly. It had started when he visited his grandparents and it had continued until the last had been placed in, what his mother told him, was a retirement home. Karl, a gentleman they had met a while ago when walking back from town, had an apartment there. He had been kind to Leonard allowing him to stroke the dog he was walking. The building held a number of different private apartments, a restaurant, pool and a gym. The twice weekly visit for Leonard was special owing to the fact that the house was a short walk away and it was unlikely he would meet children on the journey. His mother was careful to ensure their visits did not coincide with the start and end of the school day as the Primary School was situated next door to the retirement home. She often noted that he would become agitated if he could hear the children in the playground during the school break but more often than not, he would be engrossed in the company of the elderly.

  The lower floor of the retirement home was as familiar to Leonard as his own home. The residents’ lounge and the television rooms were his favourites but he also liked to sit in the large conservatory that clung to the rear of the building; the pool and the gym were out of bounds. Over the last few months, Karl, a sprightly gentleman in his mid-sixties, had formed a particularly strong bond with her son after their early meeting.

  Karl had smiled confidently, reassuring her before approaching Leonard. He bent and whispered in his ear. Penny watched with interest, confident that Leonard would stay put. She was amazed to be proven wrong. Leonard stood and followed Karl. It was what Karl kept in his apartment that attracted Leonard and very soon visiting him were the highlights of his week. These times gave his mother precious breaks where she could enjoy an hour away from him, when rekindling her love of intelligent conversation. They had also given Leonard newfound confidence.

  It was during a Tuesday visit that his mother first witnessed a change in Leonard’s behaviour. He seemed more eager than ever to visit, displaying an assertiveness she had never witnessed before. Normally she experienced his reluctance to leave the house, the pavements had to be checked just in case a passer-by might be close, but on this day, he led the way down the short path giving her little time to lock the front door. It was the same when it came to crossing the roads. He almost took the initiative. She released her hand from his.

  “Leonard. Stop. Look at me!”

  Leonard rubbed his hand and pulled a face she had seen so often but there was something in his eyes she had not noticed before. There was a coldness, an anger, similar to that she had witnessed when he had the puppy, but then the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared as he mouthed the word, sorry. She lifted his hand and kissed it. “Come on. Your friend, Karl, will be waiting.”

  ***

  Karl had been sitting in the conservatory and the drizzly rain had greyed the windows. He read his paper knowing within the next ten minutes Leonard would arrive. He heard the fuss before he saw Penny holding Leonard’s coat and hat.

  “Good morning, Karl, although it’s a poor morning as far as the weather is concerned. He’ll not walk with an umbrella, as you can see from the state of his coat.”

  Karl smiled. “Let’s get those wet things hung up. Where’s he gone? Don’t tell me, the toilet?”

  “The third time! I don’t know what you two are up to today but he’s been like a cat on hot bricks all morning, wanting to know when we could leave.”

  Leonard appeared and waved at Karl as he hung the coats by the door. “Now Karl, please, now!”

  “Go on, I need some peace. Thank you, Karl.” Leonard’s mother settled into the chair previously occupied by Karl and picked up his paper.

  Within minutes they had arrived at Karl’s apartment. “You need to sit and wait, Leonard.” Karl had been firm with him from the outset and Leonard had responded, eager to see. From another room Karl brought a box. “You must not touch, only look. If you listen, and do as you’re told, then one day you will be able to hold him. Do you understand?”

  Leonard nodded and shook with excitement. His eyes never left the box. Karl removed the lid and Leonard knelt staring at the spider. He had never seen anything quite like it. He had seen spiders at home but never one so large. Giggling with excitement, he moved his hands to his mouth, his eyes like saucers; saliva trickled from the corner of his finger filled mouth.

  “This is Tony, Leonard. Tony is a Chilean Rose spider. He can tell that we’re here from sensing us, those hairs on his legs will pick up the vibrations. They are movements like this.” He tapped his fingers on Leonard’s hand. Karl never adjusted the way he spoke to Leonard where others did, some even changed the tone of their voice as if talking to a very young child. Karl picked it up and let it slowly move along his arm. Each leg deliberately made its move giving it a sinister appearance.

  “Spider,” he emphasised every sound. “Spider, Incy Wincy spider,” Leonard said as he moved his fingers along the carpet, imitating the creature before moving forward in an attempt to touch it.

  “Not this time … soon, Leonard, soon. This is our secret.” Karl put his finger to his lips. “Can you keep a secret? Can you, Leonard, I need to know that?”

  Leonard frowned but then nodded. “I can keep a secret. I have secrets.”

  “What secrets do you have, Leonard? Surely you can tell Karl all of your secrets.”

  There was a pause before Leonard brought a finger to his lips and shook his head.

  Karl smiled and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Good. Now remember, we’ve come to see Tony the spider. Tell your mum we saw Tony, not a spider. She might not let you come again; might not let you touch him or hold him and we don’t want that do we? It’s our secret.”

  The following week Leonard handled the spider and his confidence grew. He counted the legs and learned the word arachnid. T
hey watched a video of them in the wild. Leonard could not remember being so excited to see anyone as much as meeting up with Karl.

  “I have more surprises, Leonard. More secrets but not just yet.”

  ***

  John Gornall had been on edge all day. It was his only day off in the week and what with the need to shop early, friends calling for dinner and builders expected later in the week, he had a good deal on his plate. The intermittent rain did nothing to enhance his mood. One stop he needed to make was to pick up a prescription. The chemist on King Edward’s Drive was always convenient. The parking spaces along the road were full so he pulled down Albany Road but struggled as a red Vauxhall was parked on double yellow lines. To his amazement it had not received a parking ticket. He shook his head in disbelief. No coppers on the street and now no wardens. People just do want they want, he said to himself under his breath.

  The car was still there when he returned. On passing it he noticed an elderly lady using a mobility scooter crossing the road, and he stopped to make sure she was safe and able to get up the kerb as the Vauxhall blocked the lowered edge to the pavement. She moved down the road to the next one.

  He smiled. “You’ve faced inconsiderate drivers before?”

  “Is it yours?” Her tone was pointed and critical.

  “Certainly not. If I parked on yellow lines, I’d have a ticket on the windscreen before you could say Jack Robinson.”

  “Been there two days.” She slipped past him and disappeared around the corner.

  John wiped the mud from the rear registration plate and took out his phone. He intended to report it to the council but soon changed his mind as he had to register on their website and then log in. He would do it later.

  Chapter Seven