Dark Ritual by Patricia Scott

We’re trying to stop the authorities from driving us off on the hill. What’s that deaf dummy been saying about me now?”
    Fowler said, “You have a knife in your possession. It’s a public offence to carry a weapon, sir.”
    “ Had more like! I knew that would bloody come out. Did Robbins tell you? I can’t help you.” He shrugged and gestured widely with his hands. “Haven’t got it anymore. Sorry,” he sneered. “I lost it.”
    “So — where is it, sir?”
    “No idea.” Macey shrugged, bent down, lifted his trouser leg and showed the empty leather ankle strap. “I haven’t got it. See !”
    Fowler nodded and sighed. “Looks like it. So where have you dumped it, Macey?”
    Peale leant over him, “What did you do with it after you clashed with Sandra Peterson? Did you use it on her later?”
    Macey lifted his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “Whoa, man! She took it. Sandra. The bitch snatched it from me.”
    “Don’t believe it.” Fowler leant forward. “You threatened her with it after she struggled with you and scratched you. Right?”
    “You’re bloody right, I did. I’d been drinking. She’d been leading me on for days. Played me for a sucker far too long. She laughed in my face and snatched it from me.”
    “And you didn’t get it back from her?”
    “No, Sergeant, I didn’t. And it’s bloody valuable. Practically an antique. It’s part of our family history. My dad will go ape if he finds out about it,” he said morosely. “He doesn’t know I had it.”
    “She must have been quick off the mark,” Fowler said with a grim smile. “To have taken it from you.”
    “She took me by surprise. I’ve already told you I’d had more than a few beers.”
    “You’d had a skinful?”
    He shrugged “Let’s say I wasn’t at my best. She probably did it just to torment me. We got along okay before. Maybe whoever she was meeting later used it on her?” He grinned now. “Maybe she was giving someone else grief too.”
    “Maybe. Tell me, Mr. Macey. Was there anyone else there at the time? In the camp, who could have seen what was going on between you? If so, why didn’t they try to stop the alternation going between you?”
    “Yeah.” He grinned again. “There were some others around.”
    “So — Mr. Macey did anyone actually see Sandra snatch the dagger from you?”
    Macey thought for a moment then shook his head. “Naah! It was getting pretty late by then. Most that were still awake were pissed in their tents anyway or falling asleep around the fires.” He shrugged. “And this happened in her tent.”
    “And you say she took it away with her.”
    He grimaced. “S’pose so. She rushed off on her bike before I could stop her and while I was getting over this, Martin Robbins arrived on his scooter. And gave me hell.”
    “And you hit him. Gave him a real shiner.”
    “Yeah, I did, Sergeant. He had a bloody screw loose over Sandra.” He grimaced at Peale and shook a forefinger at Fowler. “He’s the one you’ve got to worry about now. He was looking for her. Maybe he found her too.”
    “Afterwards, Mr. Macey, you said you couldn’t remember much about what happened next? Is that correct?”
    He sighed and gestured vaguely with his hands. “Look — so what? I drank a good bit more, yeah. I can just remember leaving the camp. The storm was threatening then. I think that I had some idea that I might find her and apologize.”
    He shook his head and slapped his hands down on his knees and rubbed them hard. “I realized that I shouldn’t have behaved as I did towards her by then. Wanted to know that she was okay, yeah?” His knuckled fists came up to his mouth now.
    Peale glanced at Fowler and caught his eyes. His hands were probably sweating. Macey had changed his attitude more than bit since he last clashed with them. The cocky bravado vanished from the sulky face.
    “And did you find her again, Mr. Macey?” Peale said.
    He shook his head. “No, I