A Restless Evil Read Online Free

resting on a worn tobacco pouch. There was still a faint odour of pipesmoke in the room, absorbed by the furnishings over many years. He felt a prickle run up his spine as if a ghostly hand had touched it. Good Lord, he thought, it’s the same. It’s just the same.
    â€˜You don’t use this room much now?’ he heard himself ask.
    â€˜It’s as he left it,’ was Mrs Scott’s reply.
    Alan Markby said, ‘Yes, it is.’ He was aware of the sudden, surprised look Meredith turned on him. He should have explained to her before they came. Now explanations would have to wait.
    The kitchen was huge, a cavern of a place, with the old range still in place, pitted and rusted, alongside a fat-spattered gas cooker. Upstairs, someone had made an effort to brighten up the master bedroom with liberal amounts of sky-blue paint and very little talent with the brush.
    â€˜Nice room, this one,’ said Mrs Scott. ‘Got a good view of Stovey Woods. Come and see.’
    They followed her to a sash window which she pushed up with an effort. ‘Bit stuck, most of them are.’

    They peered out. They could see the road which led through the village, winding towards the distant dark mass of the the wood.
    â€˜We’re a dead end,’ said Mrs Scott. ‘No through traffic. Nice quiet village, this. No one comes here who hasn’t got business here. It’s popular with the second-homes crowd. When they’re not here, you hardly see a car. Well, I’m blowed. That makes me a liar, doesn’t it?’
    A car had appeared as she spoke and not just any car. This was a marked police vehicle. It cruised past as if uncertain where it was going. Markby leaned out as far as he could and watched it wend its way towards the wood.
    â€˜What do the cops want, do you think?’ asked Mrs Scott. ‘Someone loosing off a shotgun in the woods, may be? Haven’t heard ’em. Would only be after pigeons, anyway. Nothing for the police to worry about. Bit of deer poaching?’
    â€˜Alan?’ Meredith touched his arm.
    He pulled in his head regretfully. ‘What? Oh, yes, could be anything. Well, is there anything else we should see, Mrs Scott?’
    â€˜Only the downstairs cloaks where Roger is.’
    â€˜We’ll give that a miss,’ Markby said hastily. ‘Would it be in order to look round the garden?’
    â€˜Help yourself.’ She clearly didn’t intend to accompany them.
    As they strolled down the path between abandoned flower-beds and overgrown vegetable patches, Meredith asked the question which had been hovering on her lips since the study.
    â€˜Why didn’t you tell me you’d been in that house before?’
    He hesitated. ‘It was a long time ago. It was still a vicarage then and I had reason to call on the incumbent. Police business, you know, routine stuff.’

    â€˜Was that Mr Scott, by any chance?’
    â€˜What? Oh, no. It was a chap called Pattinson.’
    â€˜Is that why you wanted us to view it? Because you knew it already? Why didn’t you say?’
    â€˜I don’t – didn’t know the place. I wasn’t shown over it back then. I was shown straight into the vicar’s study and after I’d spoken to him, I left. I didn’t even see into the other rooms.’ He added, ‘It’s in a bit of a state, I know.’
    She did her best to put an optimistic gloss on it. ‘It’s a beautiful big drawing room. Expensive to heat, though. Did it look better, smarter, when you saw it years ago?’
    â€˜I told you, I only saw the entrance hall and the study. It looked all right. Not that I was paying much attention then. I’m pretty sure that bookcase and the desk in the study were there then, and the crucifix, but polished up and clean.’
    â€˜She’s a nice woman, batty but nice.’
    Markby stopped and turned towards her. Her face was hidden by her ruffled brown