Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

CHAPTER ONE

Thirty-four-year-old Sergeant Keya Varma turned up the volume of her car radio and enthusiastically sang along to Katrina and the Waves’ Walking on Sunshine, playing on the local Corinium Radio station.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of an avenue of tall, green-leafed beech trees, creating pools of light on the tarmac road.

It was mid-June, but summer had come slowly to the Cotswolds this year. After some fine weather in April, May had been a disappointing washout, and even the beginning of June had been damp and grey. But now, as the summer solstice and Midsummer’s Day approached, the sun was shining, and the temperature was finally rising.

Keya sped along in her police Ford Focus, with its distinctive blue and yellow markings, to the wonderfully named villages of Lower, Little and Great Rollright on the northerly edge of the Cotswolds, to meet members of the Rollright Trust.

Spotting a car pulling out of a lay-by up ahead, she slowed down and parked beside the busy country road, which was a cut through between the A436 and A3400.

Using the rearview mirror, she adjusted her flat black hat with its black and white chequerboard band, before picking up her pen and notebook. She checked her phone, but there was no signal at this high point of the Cotswolds.

She had arrived at The Rollright Stones, an ancient monument dating back thousands of years.

When she’d first been contacted to provide advice in her role as the Cotswolds’ Rural Engagement Officer, she’d been surprised to learn of a stone circle in the same vein as Stonehenge in her area. But as she emerged from a small coppice beside a field of green stalked wheat, she gazed disappointedly at a ring of irregular shaped stones, none of which was more than a metre tall.

It was a far cry from the one time she’d visited Stonehenge. Its huge rectangular rocks, some of which balanced on top of others, left visitors marvelling and wondering how the ancient druids had created the sacred monument without modern-day cranes and lifting equipment.

“Sergeant Varma?” called an authoritative male voice.

She turned and watched as a man and a woman approached along the track beside the wheat field. Both were of retirement age, but they made an odd couple.

In spite of the balmy weather, the man was wearing a tweed suit and a brown trilby hat, and he marched along despite his slight stoop. The curly, grey-haired woman, who scuttled to keep up with him, was painfully thin. She was wearing a plum-coloured skirt, which reached to her calves, and a pair of solid walking boots, with thick red socks poking out of the tops of them. She was carrying a wicker basket.

“I’m Dr Reid,” the man announced as he reached Keya and held out his hand.

Keya shook it and found the doctor’s grip firm but the gesture fleeting.

“Chairman of the Standing Stones Heritage Committee, and this is our secretary, Dora Potts.”

“Hello,” Dora replied, smiling at Keya. “It’s awfully kind of you to meet us like this.”

“It’s what she’s paid to do,” snapped the doctor.

“Yes, of course, Silas,” Dora muttered, glancing apologetically at her companion.

“Right. Summer Solstice. The bane of our committee’s existence,” began Dr Reid.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Aurora?” Dora suggested hesitantly.

“If she can’t be here on time, she can’t expect to have a view,” declared Dr Reid as he removed his hat and fanned his reddening face.

“Cooee. I’m not late, am I?” a voice called, and Keya turned towards the edge of the wheat field and watched a brightly clad woman emerge through a metal kissing gate.

“No, Aurora, we haven’t started yet,” Dora called back.

The round, red-faced woman stopped and placed her hands on her ample hips and breathed in deeply. At least she was dressed for the weather, if not for walking, with a flowing gypsy-style skirt of blues and purples and a tasselled loose pink top.

As she walked slowly towards them, she grumbled, “It always takes me longer to walk up the hill from the village than I think. And I’ve been busy serving customers this morning.”

Dora turned to Keya and explained, “Aurora runs the popular Standing Stones shop in the village.”

“And I also give tarot card readings, should you like one, Officer,” Aurora added.

“Can we get down to business?” Dr Reid cut in.

“Yes, of course,” Dora apologised, drawing her lips together and bowing her head.

Aurora proclaimed, “I believe this year’s solstice should be all about balance, and nature, and finding joy and happiness in the world around us.”

“Oh, yes,” Dora agreed, looking up.

A figure of a young woman floated out of the coppice of trees. Keya blinked and refocused, wondering if the spirituality of her surroundings was playing tricks on her.

“What’s she doing here?” hissed Aurora.

“Ah, Daisy. You’re just in time,” called Dr Reid.

“Silas thought we ought to involve the mill. Sir Anthony wasn’t interested, and Theo was busy, so he suggested Daisy join us. Like you, she’s also into nature and paganism.”

Aurora’s nostrils flared and her eyes flashed, but by the time the younger, thinner, and prettier Daisy joined them, Aurora had composed herself.

“If I’d known you were coming, Daisy, we could have walked here together,” Aurora said with false sincerity.

Daisy smiled and replied, “Actually, I had a delivery for the Knights Farm Shop, which is why I’m late. But I did speak to Mr Graham, and he’s agreed that visitors to the summer solstice can park at the farm shop. In fact, he’s rather enthusiastic about the event and started talking about providing picnics, and a special midsummer breakfast. And we can use his facilities. There’s even a shower if people don’t mind paying a couple of pounds to use it.”

“Well done, my dear.” Dr Reid placed a hand on the top of her arm.

Daisy tensed and stepped towards the circle of stones.

“Shall we have the skull in the centre, like last year?” she asked with her back to the group. Her fair hair was long, reaching nearly to her narrow waist, and it was streaked with blonde. She was wearing a simple summer dress with capped sleeves.

“I thought we should revert to tradition and have a bonfire,” Aurora replied.