Chapter 18
It was an unusual sight as every stratum of medieval society queued up to give their testimony.
Nobles, jesters, honest tradesmen and women, wealthy merchants, monks, nuns and scrofulous peasants were all asked how well they knew Sue Potter and when was the last time they’d seen her.
Did she mention whether anything was worrying her? Where were they the previous night?
All the statements were written down and duly signed, ready to be sifted through back at the station.
Wesley and Gerry were particularly interested in what Tom and Cathy Bellow had to tell them.
They said Sue Potter had received a strange note before her death, and as a matter of urgency Wesley asked the team who were still searching her house to look out for it.
They needed to know exactly what it said.
At six o’clock, Gerry received a call to say that the note mentioned by Cathy Bellow had been found screwed up in the kitchen waste bin.
The officer helpfully sent through a photograph.
The note depicted a creature that seemed to be a cross between a big cat and possibly a hyena, pursuing a terrified lion.
Beneath the illustration was printed the words The lanzani is a cruel beast who attacks any animal not of its own kind.
Not even the bold lion is safe from its implacable hatred.
‘What do you think it means, Wes?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Anything else in the bin?’
‘Only a leaflet for a local zoo. Gadson’s in East Burrington. She might just have been planning a day out, so it probably isn’t relevant. I told the officer to keep an eye out for anything else unusual. Oh, and there was a photo album on the kitchen worktop.’
Wesley had noticed it earlier but hadn’t touched it, leaving any further investigation to the search team. ‘What about it?’
‘There were several photos missing. Looked as though they’d been torn out. Of course Mrs Potter could have removed them herself, but they weren’t found in the bin.’
‘So perhaps the killer took them out.’ Wesley thought for a moment. ‘I’m going to do some research about that note.’
Gerry nodded his approval and Wesley hurried to his desk to look up the word ‘lanzani’ on his computer.
As well as discovering that it was an Italian surname, he came across the intriguing fact that the lanzani appeared in medieval bestiaries as ‘an animal from whose cruelty no animal can be safe, even the lion’.
The illustrations he found online exactly matched the one in the note sent to Sue Potter.
He called Gerry over to his desk, and the DCI sat down gratefully before reading the page with a puzzled frown.
‘Nobody who knew Sue Potter ever described her as cruel. Everything we know about her background suggests she was nothing but a blameless retired teacher who helped out in her local church and had the innocent hobby of flouncing about in medieval costumes with her mates. If only everyone was like her, we’d be out of a job. ’
‘We know Aleric Donnal was into medieval bestiaries. This lanzani seems just the sort of thing that might interest him.’
‘I’ll take your word for it. Any ideas?’
Wesley shook his head. He was as perplexed as Gerry. ‘Unless it has something to do with her medieval re-enactments.’
‘But what?’
‘No idea. We need to find out more about her past. Perhaps GMP will be able to help us. Maybe they can speak to her former colleagues and find out whether there was any hidden scandal from her teaching years. They’ve notified her sister and she’s coming down here.
When she arrives, she might be able to tell us more. ’
‘Putting everything together, it looks as though this wasn’t a random murder in the course of a break-in. Sue Potter was targeted deliberately. Someone hated her enough to kill her.’
‘Could her death be connected with Aleric Donnal’s in some way?’
Gerry frowned. ‘Go on.’
But before Wesley could say any more, Ellie approached his desk holding something black and dusty at arm’s length. A briefcase that had seen better days. ‘Someone dropped this off at reception, sir. A Darren Wolsey. Said it’s from his grandad and you’d know what it was about.’
Wesley put on crime-scene gloves before taking it from her.
He’d almost forgotten about Pete Wolsey’s call the previous night, and now that he had the briefcase in front of him, he felt a sudden rush of curiosity.
He turned to Gerry. ‘This is the briefcase Pete Wolsey found under the stairs at Sycamore House when he was doing that building work.’
‘Come on then, let’s see what’s inside.’
The clasp had rusted up, so Wesley struggled with it for a while. When he eventually managed to prise it open, he looked inside and found a large illustrated book in a protective plastic cover, like a library edition.
‘What’s the book?’ said Gerry, leaning over to see.
‘Beasts of the Middle Ages.’ Wesley opened it and looked through the colourful pages.
It was a facsimile of a medieval bestiary, and the front page bore the stamp of the county archives.
‘This must be the one Donnal borrowed on the sixth of May 2011 and never returned. The one the letter sent to Harbour Steps was about.’
As he reached into the briefcase again, his fingers came into contact with something caught at the bottom.
It was a leaflet, the kind available in the tourist information centre at the edge of the Memorial Gardens.
It featured fuzzy photographs of animals: chimpanzees, lions, ostriches and a sad-looking elephant.
‘Gadson’s Zoo in East Burrington. Same as the leaflet in Sue Potter’s bin.’ He examined it closely. ‘But this one’s way out of date. What was Donnal doing with it, I wonder?’ he said, passing it to Gerry.
‘Maybe he fancied a day out. Do you know anything about the place?’
Wesley nodded. ‘Pam and I took the kids there a few years ago. We weren’t impressed.
It was more like someone’s private collection of exotic animals than a proper zoo that takes conservation seriously and tries to replicate the animals’ natural habitat.
I’m surprised it’s stayed open, to be honest. Pam didn’t like seeing the animals in cages and small enclosures.
’ He smiled. ‘Della’s always joining protests about this and that, but if she organised one about Gadson’s Zoo, I’d be right behind her. ’
‘Maybe Donnal was doing some research about his medieval beasts there. Or he might have just picked up the leaflet somewhere. Perhaps we should pay the zoo a visit. See whether anyone there knows anything about him.’
Wesley looked sceptical. From the evidence he’d seen so far, Aleric Donnal was more interested in mythical creatures than real ones in a run-down zoo. But they had to follow every possible lead. Especially as a similar leaflet had been found on Sue Potter’s premises.
‘Let’s call it a day, Wes. We’ve got Sue Potter’s post-mortem in the morning.’
As Wesley was grabbing his jacket, the phone in Gerry’s office began to ring.
It was the constable on duty outside Sue Potter’s cottage wanting to know what they should do with Gertrude, the victim’s cat.
One of the neighbours had fed it that day, but she’d made it quite clear it was a purely temporary arrangement, because she had a dog who took exception to the feline species.
Wesley had followed the DCI into his office, hoping the message was something that would move the investigation forward.
Gerry had put the speakerphone on, so every word was audible.
He looked at Wesley and gave a dramatic shrug.
This wasn’t really a problem for the chief investigating officer.
On the other hand, Gerry Heffernan had a bit of a reputation for being a soft touch behind all his bluster.
‘If someone brings it to the station in a carrier, I’ll take the poor thing home,’ he said. ‘My son’s a vet. He might be able to find it a billet if the victim’s sister doesn’t want to take responsibility.’
Once the call was ended, Gerry looked at Wesley. ‘I suppose it would be more than your life’s worth to take it in.’
‘I think Moriarty and Sherlock would have something to say. They just about tolerate each other, but I wouldn’t want to introduce another cat into the mix.’
Gerry chuckled. ‘I’ve never come across such appropriate names for a detective’s cat and dog.
I’ll take Gertrude in for a while until she finds a permanent home.
Our Alison loves animals – has to in her job.
’ Gerry’s daughter had almost completed her training as a veterinary nurse and worked with her half-brother, Sam, at the Carnvale Veterinary Clinic.
As Wesley walked home, he couldn’t get Aleric Donnal’s briefcase out of his mind. The leaflet from Gadson’s Zoo seemed so out of place. Why had he kept it? He couldn’t shake off the thought that it could be important. But he’d been wrong before.