Death of a Friend Read Online Free

even though I tried some mouth-to-mouth.’
    ‘She must have had a very fragile skull.’
    ‘Stupid way to die. It was practically the last hunt of the season as well. The whole protest was a waste of time. I blame that Charlie fellow as much as anyone. Rushing round like a lunatic, he was, getting everybody worked up.’
    ‘That’s what people were saying at the funeral. Charlie wasn’t there, by the way, which we all thought rather odd. Not only was he Nina’s co-protester, he’s going out with her sister.’
    ‘Funny beggar,’ Den commented. ‘Those poor kids, too. What’ll they do now?’
    Lilah shrugged. ‘They’re quite able to fend for themselves. I used to babysit them when they were little, you know. I was only about fourteen and we played hide and seek all over that enormous house. It was wonderful.’
    ‘Well, come on, then. I’m cooking. You don’t have to get anything, do you?’
    She shook her head. ‘It all seems to be under control. Amos is really good with the cows. Better than Daddy or Sam ever were. They seem to read his mind. I can’t help feeling we’re exploiting him, but he won’t have it.’
    ‘You saved him from a miserable old age. Hecan’t believe his luck, having your mum at such close quarters and plenty to do all day.’
    ‘Well it’s working like magic.’ Amos and Isaac Grimsdale had lived on the land adjacent to the Beardons’ farm, but the sudden death of his brother had been the final blow to Amos’s independence. Moving in with Lilah and her family had been the obvious solution to a number of connected problems.
    Den clambered into the passenger seat of Lilah’s car, folding his long legs into the small space. But before she could start the engine, a young uniformed policeman came running after them.
    ‘Den!’ he called. ‘Hang on. There’s just been a call. Someone’s found a body in a ditch. The Chief thinks you ought to go with the others.’
    ‘What the hell for? I’ve done my shift for today.’ Den frowned up at the man; Lilah sighed and let go of the ignition key.
    ‘It’s Charlie Grattan, they think. The hunt protester. He’s had his head bashed in; been there a day or two. Your patch, mate. You’d better be in at the start.’
    Lilah leant across Den, her expression bemused. ‘Found in a ditch with his head bashed in? Where, exactly?’
    ‘High Copse Farm. Belongs to the same family as that woman who died trying to stop the hunt.’
    Lilah stared at him, disbelieving. ‘But I’ve only just come from there.’ She looked at Den, wide-eyed. ‘They’ve been looking for him all day.’
    Den began to move, unclipping his seatbelt. ‘Don’t wait for me,’ he said. ‘I might be some time.’
     
    Den had been transferred to plain clothes a few months earlier, after the CID training course, which he had enjoyed enormously, much to his own surprise. He had not expected involvement in violent death to be a major element of his work when he first applied to join the police force, but he had quickly discovered that the public perception of Devon as a sleepy rural idyll was an illusion. When a person died on a farm or in a remote hamlet, they often did it messily, long before an ambulance could navigate itself down the maze of narrow lanes. And by no means all of those deaths could be attributed to natural causes. It soon became obvious to Den that the apparently peaceful routines of agricultural life were beset with lethal equipment, convenient murder weapons and ominously tangled relationships.
    Charlie Grattan’s body was found curled tight as a hedgehog, hands covering the head as if to ward off the savage blows that killed him. His knuckles were split; blood from them and the dreadful head wounds had combinedto form a repellently crusty cap and mask.
    ‘I couldn’t even recognise him at first,’ said Richmond faintly. ‘He was just a mass of blood, with grass and flies and stuff sticking to him. Never seen anything like it.’
    Martha and