Читать книгу Blind to the Bones - Stephen Booth - Страница 16

In Withens, a few elderly people were arriving at the church as Ben Cooper drove past. Perhaps the vicar held an afternoon service for them. Cooper looked for the Reverend Alton in the churchyard, but couldn’t see him.

At Waterloo Terrace, some children watched him pass. Their bikes lay on the ground in a tangle, the spokes of their wheels lying on top of each other in complex patterns. There were two boys around the age of fifteen, one with short-cropped hair and the other with gelled spikes. There was a girl of about the same age, and a smaller boy who couldn’t be more than ten, who leered aggressively at the car. Behind them, Cooper glimpsed a taller figure, a well-built young man in his twenties. Could that be Scott Oxley, the eldest son?

Cooper barely had time to think about it before he found himself driving out of the village to the east, where he passed an old man standing in the road. In fact, he had to slow right down to avoid running him over. The man was wearing a tight tweed jacket and a pair of baggy trousers that had been made for a younger, bulkier man – a man who had worn them until the seat shone and the edges of the pockets were frayed like lace.

Cooper wound down the window of the Toyota.

‘I’m looking for Shepley Head Lodge,’ he said. ‘Am I on the right road?’

‘There isn’t any other road.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘It’s just over the next hill. But I wouldn’t go up there, if I were you.’

Cooper laughed at his ominous tone. It sounded like a line from an old black-and-white horror film, but it ought to have been delivered by a Transylvanian coach driver, or some other superstitious yokel.

‘Especially not at this time of night?’ said Cooper.

‘Eh?’ The old man looked at him as if he were stupid.

‘No, I meant – the name of the people is Dearden, not Dracula. It isn’t even an anagram.’