Diane wipes her dirty hands on an even dirtier cloth she has tucked into the pocket of her jeans as she looks Graham up and down. Thanks to his years as a detective, he’s learned a thing or two about questioning potential suspects, getting them to trust him. Sometimes, it works in his favour to dive straight in and ask the inevitable and most important questions, but there are other times, like now, where he knows he has to take his time, gauge the suspect’s responses and be a little crafty with his tactics. He just hopes Stephen cottons on and plays along.
Graham clears his throat and begins. ‘May I ask how many pigs you currently have on this farm?’ He knows the answer to the question isn’t relevant to their investigation, but he thinks it may be a decent conversation opener.
‘Currently, I have one hundred and twenty-one,’ comes the quick response. Not even a whiff of a pause.
‘Are you missing any?’ Again, a question used as a point of interest.
Diane chuckles and shakes her head. ‘I’m afraid I don’t make a habit of counting my pigs every day, but the last time I checked … no.’
‘When was the last time you counted them all?’ asks Mr Mallow, stepping into the conversation.
Diane inhales sharply and pauses a moment before replying, ‘A week ago, I guess.’ She narrows her eyes at Mr Mallow. Clearly, she isn’t as keen on him as she is Graham. She doesn‘t know Stephen like Graham does. He's harmless really, if you can put up with his abrupt manner and direct questions.
Graham decides to change the subject slightly. ‘Do you buy pig hearts from the butcher’s shop, Mrs Bevan?’
‘Well, I don’t really buy them, considering they are from my own pigs, but yes, Mr Davies keeps some back for me on occasion. Can I ask why you’re asking me about pig hearts, Mr Williams?’
Graham clears his throat. He’d been hoping not to have to tell her the full story, but Diane doesn’t seem like the type of woman who likes having the wool pulled over her eyes. She won‘t give up information without getting something in return first. That’s fine. Graham can work with that. He decides to be honest with her and gauge her reaction from there.
‘I think I found a fresh pig heart on my property yesterday and we suspect it came from the local butcher shop.’
‘That has to be the strangest story I’ve ever heard.’
‘Believe me, I’ve heard stranger ones.’
‘How do you know it’s a pig heart?’
‘A very good question. We don’t. We’re making an educated guess based on the information we’ve gained.’
‘I see. Well, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Mr Williams.’
‘There’s one more thing, Mrs Bevan. I found this heart inside the chest cavity of a scarecrow hanging in the tree opposite my home. I remember from the village meeting the other night that Frank said the scarecrow was a Halloween prank, but a fresh pig heart inside its chest is taking things a bit far, don’t you think?’
Diane gasps, then mutters something in Welsh. She makes the sign of a cross, a ritual that isn’t lost on Graham. She fixes her gaze on Graham, barely blinking.
‘I shall put your mind at ease, Mr Williams and tell you that the scarecrow is not a prank, but a respected village tradition that happens every year around this time, as a symbol. A pig heart is used as a reminder of the souls who have died near the tree over the years. Frank just didn’t want to scare you, I suppose.’
‘Are you saying that more than one person has taken their own life near the tree, other than John Hammel a hundred years ago?’
‘That tree is almost a thousand years old, Mr Williams. It has seen the Black Death, the Tudor period, the IndustrialRevolution, the Napoleonic Wars, and both World Wars. I’d be shocked if it hadn’t witnessed the death of more than one person in that time.’
Graham is silent for a moment. He hadn’t considered that before, that the tree had continued standing throughout some of the worst times in history. John Hammel’s death was merely a small blip on its radar.
‘When did the scarecrow tradition first start?’ he asks after reflection.
‘Ten years ago.’
‘And does that have anything to do with Sophia Hammel’s disappearance which also happened ten years ago almost to the day?’
Diane sucks in a breath and makes the sign of the cross again. ‘I have answered enough of your questions, Mr Williams. If you wish to talk about Sophia, then I suggest you speak to her father. It’s not my place.’
‘I’ll be doing just that. Thank you for your time, Mrs Bevan.’
Chapter 29
SOPHIA
Bethgelert, Wales, 2015
