Midsomer Maiden |1| The Trials of Midsomer

5. Death in Disguise

At the Lodge of the Golden Windhorse, a New Age commune near Causton, its founders Ian Craigie and Bill Carter met out in the grounds. Both wearing long ceremonial robes with long, white-blonde hair, they almost looked as though each of them were engaging in a Lucius Malfoy lookalike competition—although Craigie, with his pale, beardless face, was certainly winning.

"What do you want to meet out here for, Bill?" he demanded. "What's wrong with the house?"

"In case we need to drop our guard," Carter replied.

Craigie spread his arms. "I have none. I am as you see me."

Carter rolled his eyes. "Ten years we said we'd give this place, and then we'd cash in. Well, time's up. You've been fobbing me off."

"Yes, I know, but to a purpose, Bill. I mean, look how far we've come in those ten years. A real journey of discovery, wouldn't you say?"

"All I want to discover is how much of it is mine!"

"And what about our fellow travellers?" asked Craigie. "Do we leave them stranded at the crossroads of your selfishness without directions?"

Carter scoffed. "Oh, for God's sake, I'm fed up with that kind of talk. If you want to stay on, fine. Get the place valued and buy me out."

"I don't have the wherewithal. You know I don't."

"Then take out a loan."

Craigie shook his head. "I've got a far more exciting proposition for you, Bill. Stay on. Carry on helping me to run the lodge, recruit more travellers. I mean... look at what we've created here. A way of life neither of us ever dreamed of."

"If I'd known you'd wind up believing your own lies, I never would have come in with you," said Carter. "Where's the old you? The one who—"

"I know what I was capable of, Bill!" Craigie snapped. "I don't need reminding of it."

"You should remember what I was capable of," Carter hissed. "When people try to cheat me."

***

In the dining area, the plump, motherly May Cuttle was bustling about preparing for lunch, with several of the commune's members helping out. "Where is everyone?" she wondered. "Arno, dear, go and seek them out."

Arno, a middle aged man in a multipocketed gilet, nodded and headed for the door. "Yes, May."

"Oh, Trixie, dear, what are you doing?" May asked, waving her hands at the table Trixie had laid.

"Exactly what you asked me to do," Trixie replied, blinking.

"I didn't ask you to do—"

From upstairs, the loud, insistent voice of Bill Carter cut through their conversation. "This is my money! You've got to give it to me!" Then came the unmistakable sound of a body bouncing down the stairs. Trixie, May and Arno rushed into the hallway to find Carter sprawled at the bottom of the staircase, quite dead, with Ken and Heather Beavers leaning over him. From above, Craigie peered over the balustrade, his eyes wide.

***

Meanwhile, Tom Barnaby was cheerfully filleting a fish in the kitchen at home beside his unconvinced daughter. "Greater love hath no fish than that he lay down his life for my lunch," he declared. Then he looked over his shoulder at Joyce, who was stirring a pot on the stove. "How's the sauce coming?"

Joyce frowned. "It's a wee bit lumpy. Tastes okay, though."

Cully and Tom shared a look. "You remind me of someone," she joked, nodding towards the guts he was pulling out of the fish. "I'm just not sure if it's Raymond Blanc or Jack the Ripper."