Common Murder

“Hard to say. A day? Two, maybe, if it’s not something obvious. If the person who’s made it is a real computer buff, which he or she presumably is, if they really use those four systems to their full potential, then it could be a bit subtle. Still, a nice bit of hacking makes a pleasant change. I’ll see you again in about an hour, then. You know where to find me?”

“Sure, I remember. I’ll be with you soon as possible.” Lindsay rang off and was about to leave the box when she realized she hadn’t spoken to Cordelia since her angry departure on Monday. Her mind had been too occupied with Crabtree and Debs for her to pay attention to her lover’s needs. It wouldn’t be an easy call, for Lindsay knew she’d have to lie about what had happened with Debs. The phone wasn’t the place for confessions. And Cordelia would be quite justifiably hurt that Lindsay hadn’t made time for her. Especially with Deborah Patterson back on the scene. The stab of guilt made her rake through her pockets for more change, and she hastily dialed their number. On the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up the call. “Oh shit,” she muttered as she listened to her own voice instructing her to leave a message. After the tone, she forced a smile into her voice and said, feeling foolish as she always did on their own machine, “Hello, darling, it’s me. Wednesday afternoon. Just a check call to let you know I’m okay. Duncan ’s leaving me here on the murder story because of my peace camp contacts, so God knows when I’ll be home. Probably not till after the funeral, or an arrest, whichever comes first. I’ll try to ring tonight. Love you. Bye.” She put the phone down with relief and set off for Oxford.

13

Deborah was waiting impatiently by the Gate Six encampment for Lindsay. Already, most of the women taking part in the vigil were in place. The traffic on the main road back from Oxford and the need to change into more suitable clothes had delayed Lindsay enough for her to have missed the procession, but she could see that there were not sufficient numbers there to encircle the base holding hands. They had spread out along as much of the perimeter as they could cover, with gaps of about fifty yards between them. The flicker of candles, feeble against the cloudy winter night, was gradually spreading.

Deborah hustled Lindsay along the muddy clearing by the fence for half a mile till they reached their agreed station, a corner of the fence near a deep drainage ditch. They kissed goodbye, then Lindsay walked on round the corner to her position.

She turned facing the base, where the buildings and bunkers were floodlit against the enemy-not the red menace, but the monstrous regiment, she thought. She turned back and peered towards the nearest flame. She could just make out the silhouette of the next woman in the vigil and in the distance she could hear the faint sound of singing. She knew from experience that it would soon work its way round to her like Chinese whispers. She had been pleasantly surprised to see, for once, the police and military presence were fairly low key. She hadn’t seen any journalists, but assumed they would all be down by the main gates, reluctant to stagger through the mud unless it became absolutely necessary. She smiled wryly. At least her story would have the unmistakable air of verisimilitude.

She took her Zippo lighter from her jacket pocket and flicked the flame into life. She hadn’t remembered to ask Debs for a candle, so the lighter would have to do. She stamped her feet to keep the circulation going and started mentally planning her story.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a short scream, which was cut off by a squelching thud and the sound of crashing in the undergrowth. It came from Deborah’s direction. Before she had time to think, she was charging back round the corner in the fence towards her. In her panic, she forgot about the drainage ditch and plunged headlong into it, twisting her ankle in an explosion of pain as she fell. Instead of landing in muddy water, she fell on something soft and yielding. Lindsay pushed herself away and fumbled with the lighter which she’d somehow managed to hang on to. The little flare of light was enough to show her a sight that made her heart lurch.