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Nestled amongst the meadows and farmland sat one particularly aged building the likes of which Isaac initially thought was a building for the cattle. It was only when they drew closer to it that he realised it was actually the farmhouse.
“God, and I thought Hilltop Farm was bad. Do none of the farmers around here have any profitable businesses?” Isaac muttered as he stepped down from the carriage and surveyed the weed-strewn grass at the front of the farmhouse.
The area around the back of the property wasn’t much better. A muddy stable block contained several stables all in one long building, but the doors hung off some of the stables, and were none-existent in others. Within all the stables was rotting manure and used straw that could be smelt even from several feet away.
“Jesus, this place is a mess,” Isaac snorted.
“This has fallen into ruin as well,” Mark grumbled, kicking at a stone as he eyed the back of the farmhouse. It was then that he saw a flicker of movement within one of the upstairs rooms. Squinting suspiciously, he appeared casual as he coughed and glared at Isaac while mumbling: “Inside.”
“Company?” Isaac’s voice was low. He studied each stable, but the outer buildings had an empty, abandoned feel to them.
“In the house.” Mark eased his jacket away from his side and made his gun visible. He ambled toward the house and studied each of the rooms through the windows but didn’t see movement within again. That didn’t mean someone wasn’t still inside, though.
They are still upstairs.
“What do you want?” The female voice was annoyed and came from above them. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Isaac snapped.
“Come on down, Mrs Glover,” Mark called. “Is your husband here?”
“He is moving cattle.” Mrs Glover scowled at them.
“Harriett has already said that Mr Glover sold his cattle to Mr Lewis,” Mark whispered once Mrs Glover had slammed the window closed.
Together, Mark and Isaac edged toward the house and waited. And waited. And waited a little more. Wondering if the woman had made an escape out of the front door, Mark hammered on the back door. It was yanked open instantly. Mrs Glover glared at them but refrained from ordering the Detective Inspector off the property.
“What do you want?” she demanded without preamble.
“This farm doesn’t belong to you anymore, Mrs Glover. Why are you in here?” Mark’s curious gaze fell to the lock on the door, but it wasn’t broken.
“We are tenants here now,” Mrs Glover reported. “Are you here about that Smethurst woman? That killer?”
“I am here about the killer, yes, amongst other things,” Mark drawled. “Where is your husband? Which field? Whose cattle is he moving?”
“Ours of course. He doesn’t work for anyone else,” Mrs Glover informed him briskly. “What do you want? I don’t know anything. You caught the killer red-handed.” Mrs Glover smirked at her crass attempt at humour. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“I want to know why you have broken into this house. It is no longer yours, Mrs Glover. I know that Mr Richmond didn’t make you a tenant before he died. You do not have permission to live here and are trespassing. So, do you want to tell me why you are here, or should I just arrest you for breaking and entering and trespass?”
“It isn’t my fault if that damned fool didn’t tell his wife that he kept us on here as tenants, is it?” Mrs Glover shrugged and sniffed inelegantly. “Now, I have things to do so be on your way. I have nothing to tell you. My husband is moving cattle. He will go to the pub after that, but I don’t know which one before you ask.”
“Where is your tenancy agreement?” Isaac demanded.
Mrs Glover glared at him. “What’s that got to do with you?”
“If you are a tenant here, you should have a tenant’s agreement.”
Mrs Glover’s shifty gaze slid outside. Mark suspected he saw a flash of annoyance in the woman’s face, which had hardened by the time she looked at him again. “My husband deals with all of that. You will have to ask him.”
Mark pursed his lips. He contemplated whether it was wise to arrest the woman or not. If he was wrong, and she really did have a tenancy agreement Mrs Richmond didn’t know about, he was going to have to release Mrs Glover. She would probably never let him, or the locals, hear the last of it. However, something in his gut warned him that the woman was up to her neck in something shifty. It might have been her rudeness, or the way she had planted herself in the doorway and refused to allow him into the house, or maybe it was the scorn in her eyes whenever she raked Isaac with that condemning smirk. Whatever it was, Mark had seen that arrogant coldness in people’s eyes before. It had been evident in the belligerent gazes of every criminal he had ever arrested. He wasn’t at all sure when Mrs Glover had taken to a life of crime, but Mark didn’t doubt that he was looking at a criminal who was just as bad as her husband.
“Well, seeing as I have reason to believe that you have broken into this house and are trespassing now that Mr Richmond, the legal owner, has died, I am arresting you for trespass and breaking and entering until you can provide the necessary paperwork that proves your occupancy in the house is legitimate,” Mark informed her briskly.
“You can’t do that.” For the first time since she had opened the upstairs window, Mrs Glover looked alarmed.
“I can do that. You have failed to provide me with adequate evidence that you have a legal reason for being inside this house; the house of the recently deceased Mr Richmond who has, in fact, been murdered. This very morning, I have seen purchase documentation that gave Mr Angus Richmond this house by law, so I know it belongs to him. I haven’t, however, seen any tenancy agreement that gives you any right to be here.”
“Mr Richmond must have it. You should go and speak to his wife,” Mrs Glover snarled. “I am not trespassing.” She threw Isaa
