Snow Angel

by JJ Marsh

  Beatrice put down her fork. “Just a minute. Mungo, the car outside Vaughan’s house on the Friday before he died. You told the police it was Gabriel’s.”

  “Indeed it was! Muddy, scraped and bashed up with some kind of hippie sticker on the rear window. He’s a vegan, you know. Anyway, yes, I recognised it straight off.”

  “What was the number plate?”

  “No idea. Police asked me the same thing. Can’t be sure I even looked. Just spotted a vehicle I recognised and said to myself, there’s Gabriel Shaw’s Land Rover. That’s queer.”

  “Do you remember which word was on the bonnet?”

  Mungo rolled his eyes. “Land Rover?”

  Beatrice’s thought processes began making connections and joining the dots while her stomach filled with a cold dread.

  Need to up the stakes at tomorrow night’s game if I’m going to take The Black Widow to Chez Bruno.

  “Did you know him?”

  “Only by reputation. I read his book when I was at university.”

  I couldn’t afford her. Professionally or privately.

  Agreed to pop into the practice for one last session on the couch.

  Gaia Dee?

  Matthew was staring at her. “What is it, Old Thing?”

  “I met my counsellor this morning, mostly to try and get some information about why she’d counselled Frankie. I suspected it may have had something to do with Vaughan. She wouldn’t share client info with me but said she would with the police. So I asked Will to go and speak to her, as a police officer. What concerns me now is that she drives a large black SUV with a No GM Food sticker in the back. Secondly, I have reason to believe she and Vaughan may have been closer than I thought. And Will has not returned.”

  “What is your counsellor’s name?” Mungo asked.

  “She’s called Gaia Dee. She lives out towards...”

  “...Appleford,” Matthew finished her sentence, shooting a look of consternation at Mungo.

  Mungo’s eyes widened. “Lady D! I remember. He couldn’t stop crowing about having an affair with his shrink. Good God!”

  Beatrice snatched up her phone. “I’m calling the police. This time they’ll have to listen to me. Matthew, will you please call Rose? We’re going to need her Land Rover.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Once again, Rose’s driving left Beatrice speechless, which was not ideal as she was supposed to be giving directions. In the back of the vehicle, Maggie and Matthew clutched their seats and each other as the elderly lady hurled the Land Rover through the swirling, shifting whiteness.

  The vehicle sped along the country roads, occasionally pulling in for a similar four-wheel drive travelling in the opposite direction, a constant snowflake starscape creating a hypnotic effect on the silent passengers. When Rose turned on the radio, it took no longer than two minutes for a severe weather warning to interrupt some forgettable pop music.

  Beatrice strained to catch the forecaster’s words. “Yellow warning ... only travel if absolutely necessary ... stay off roads ... check on elderly neighbours ...conditions treacherous ... take no risks.”

  After the second repetition, Rose switched it off.

  Finally, once they had crossed the motorway, Beatrice shuffled round to address Maggie. She had to raise her voice over the sound of the engine.

  “I’m so grateful to you both. And I am sorry to drag you out on a night like this. We’re worried about Will. I was following a lead and asked him for help. You see, when assessing who had both the expertise and motive for poisoning Vaughan Mason, I suspected Susie Hancock and her daughter of acting in tandem. I can’t say why, but I promise you I did have good cause.

  “On a completely unrelated note, my counsellor in London found me a local person whom I met this morning. She seemed very nice. After doing the usual client-counsellor thing, I asked her a couple of questions because I happen to know she also counselled Frankie, or Francesca as she was then. I suspected a link between Vaughan, Frankie and Susie. She gave me nothing. Very professional, she refused to break client confidentiality. She hinted she would be able to offer more information to someone currently employed as a serving police officer. Hence my asking Will if he would pop round and see what he could glean.”

  The road grew rougher and each invisible pothole tossed them about in the back of the Land Rover. No one spoke for several moments as one would need to shout to be heard. After a particularly violent bounce drew a furious bellow from Maggie, Rose changed gear and the vehicle slowed to a less terrifying pace.

  “But he should have been back hours ago,” Beatrice continued, no longer forced to shout. “And I assumed he was. Then this afternoon, two pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Vaughan Mason was having an affair with someone he referred to as The Black Widow. He broke that off sometime in November. And outside his house on the Friday afternoon before he died was a large black SUV. A witness identified it as belonging to Gabriel Shaw. But Gabriel drives a Defender, just like this one. Gaia on the other hand...”

  Rose didn’t take her eyes off the road. “So where is Will now?”

  “He must be still at the property,” said Beatrice. “It’s off the beaten track which is why we need your Land Rover. We’re not doing this alone, don’t worry, the police are on their way.”

  No one spoke.

  Beatrice craned her neck, squinting into the darkness and checking her phone for guidance. “Rose, take the next turning on the right, then straight on for about a mile.”

  They all peered out into the night but the hedgerows either side of the headlights gave little away. Beyond the bend in the lane, Beatrice spotted a blue flashing light reflecting off the fields. She frowned. The police had got there before them? Rose indicated and pulled the wheel to the right, onto a narrower lane, which seemed to be surprisingly popular, judging by the amount of tyre tracks on the ground. Then she stopped.

  In the middle of the road stood a blue sign. TRAFFIC INCIDENT. ROAD CLOSED.

  A cold sense of dread sank to the pit of Beatrice’s stomach. She opened the door, jumped out and moved the sign to one side. Clambering back in, she said, “Take it very slowly but let’s keep moving.”

  Everyone leaned forward, eyes on the road. Rose rounded the corner, doing around five miles an hour, and slammed on the brakes. An ambulance was heading towards them, with no siren or flashing lights. Rose reversed to a wider section of the road to let the vehicle pass. She wound down the window to hear the driver.

  “The road’s closed. Traffic incident up ahead. Turn around and find another route!”

  “Oh dear. I hope no one was hurt?”

  The driver gave a grim nod. “Not a night to be on the roads.” His window rolled up and he drove away.

  Rose looked at Beatrice. “What now?”

  “Put it in first gear and keep going.”

  The Land Rover moved on at a cautious crawl, blue lights getting brighter as the approached. Around the next corner, a police car and reflective barriers blocked their path, emergency floodlights illuminating the scene. Several other vehicles were parked ahead, including a tow truck, and in the glare of the lights, first responders worked in high visibility jackets. Beatrice could see the underside of a car up against a stone wall, the front third crushed like a tin can. Even at this distance she recognised it. A silver Audi.

  “No. Please no. Oh God.” She got out, her breath shallow and skin icy, and walked closer, her hands in her armpits to stop them from shaking.

  A uniformed officer came towards her. “Sorry, madam, the road’s closed.”

  “What happened?”

  “Traffic collision. I need you to move away, please. The scene is not secure and your Land Rover is blocking the entry for emergency vehicles.”

  Beatrice pointed, her voice shaking. “I think that’s my friend’s car.”

  The officer looked behind him at the crumpled metal. “I see. I’ll ... er ... get someone to come and talk to you. Just wait there.”

/>   She sensed Matthew come up behind her to place an arm around her shoulders. “Beatrice? Is that Will’s?”

  “Not sure yet,” she said. It wasn’t true. She could see the twisted cabriolet and she knew.

  Footsteps sounded behind them and Beatrice turned to see two figures silhouetted in Rose’s headlights walking towards them. DI Axe and DS Perowne.

  Axe took in the situation in one searching glance and looked from Beatrice to the mangled metal. “Is that his car?” she asked, her voice gentle.

  “Yes.” Beatrice’s whole body was trembling.

  A man in a hi-vis tabard over his coat came across and seemed surprised to see DI Axe. “Hello, Caroline. They told me it was a relative after information.”

  “Hello, Gerry. We’re looking for an individual in connection with a case.” She pulled out her notebook. “Last known to have visited a house half a mile up the road earlier this afternoon in a silver Audi cabriolet. We passed an ambulance just now. The occupants...?” She indicated the crash scene.

  Gerry pressed his lips together. “Just the driver. A fatality, I’m sorry to say. The body’s gone to the morgue already if you want to do an official ID.”

  Beatrice knees buckled and the only thing that kept her from falling into the snow was Matthew, gripping her shoulder like a vice.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The raucous laughter and occasional outbursts of song from the bar were unbearable to Adrian, as were Catinca and Tanya’s frequent reassurances and concerned looks. His room, which had once felt so charming and spacious, now seemed oppressive and stuffy. In fact, it was pointless trying to sit in one place until he had news of Will.

  He put on his coat and slunk down the stairs, mobile in pocket, intent on walking and clearing his head. But before he’d got to the landing, he heard familiar voices. His sister, his mother and most voluble cousin were in the hallway, looking for him. Of course they were. All excited and keen to meet the grooms before the wedding, they must have got a taxi here from the hotel.

  He couldn’t stand it. There was no way he could sit with friends and family, chatting about plans for tomorrow when he didn’t even know if there would be a tomorrow. He couldn’t go back upstairs to his room because that was the first place they would look for him, so he took a left along the first floor corridor, wondering if there was a fire escape. Halfway along, he noticed a door marked Function Room and tried the handle. The door opened without a sound and he saw a dozen tables covered in holly-printed tablecloths in semi-darkness. Exactly what he needed. He threaded his way through the room and sat on a window seat, looking out over the green.

  His phone rang and he checked Caller Display. Jared.

  “Jared, hi,” he said, trying to keep his voice upbeat. “How’s Alejandro?”

  “He’s home. It was a virus and he’s still sick but I just wanted to tell you it isn’t meningitis and your godson going to be fine.”

  “Oh that is wonderful news! Thank you so much for letting me know. You and Peter must have been distraught.”

  “Pretty much. We’re relieved but so really disappointed we couldn’t make your big day. We both wish you all the happiness and luck in the world. You’re good people and we love you.”

  Adrian couldn’t speak.

  “Hey, you must be crazy busy, so have a wonderful wedding and call me when you get back from honeymoon. OK?”

  Adrian swallowed. “We will. Love to Alejandro!” He ended the call and switched his phone to silent.

  The only call he wanted was from Will.

  Detective Sergeant William Quinn. Adrian’s mind floated back to that cold wintry night when he’d arrived home to find two detectives standing in the hallway, asking him to come in for questioning. Someone had maliciously accused him of possessing indecent images of children. After hours of answering the same questions, he had permission to go. They kept his computer overnight and one of the detectives took it upon himself to return it in person. DS Quinn left his card, suggesting if Adrian experienced any other forms of harassment, he’d be willing to listen.

  The detective got fed up of waiting and called him for a date. They went out for some food and wine and said they should do it again. Adrian called him the very next day and they had been together ever since. Will moved in, met Beatrice and introduced Adrian to his friends. They went on holidays, spent weekends with each other’s families and discussed kids (no), dogs (yes). Will sold his motorbike and bought a car. And on one beautiful summer’s evening in Portugal, Will brought out a ring and said, “Will you marry me?”

  Tears were flowing freely now and Adrian wiped his face with his sleeve. Will, where are you? Please, please come back!

  The door burst open and Adrian blinked, half-expecting his plea to have been answered. Instead, Susie stood in the doorway, peering into the gloomy room.

  “Here you are!” she exclaimed and turned to call over her shoulder. “He’s in the Function Room!”

  “Susie, please, I just need a minute ... oh no.”

  Running footsteps came down the corridor. Catinca, Tanya and Frankie shoved themselves in and shut the door.

  Catinca held up her tablet and tapped a few buttons. “Susie just saw this on news. Listen to end, mate. Then we call Beatrice.”

  A poor quality video from a local TV station began to play. Extreme weather conditions have already claimed several lives in the region. A two-vehicle collision on the M5 near Tiverton resulted in three deaths. Two children have been taken to intensive care. A fatal accident occurred just off the A396, killing the driver, a 43-year-old woman from Appleford. No other vehicles involved. Heavy snow caused the roof of an old people’s home to collapse in the Swilly area of Plymouth. No residents or staff were injured.

  Catinca rewound and played one section again. A fatal accident occurred just off the A396, killing the driver, a 43-year-old woman from Appleford. She paused and pointed at the screen.

  It took a moment but when he saw it, he caught his breath. “That’s Will’s car!”

  Catinca clutched his arm. “Will’s car but driver is a woman. Call Beatrice, mate. We got to know what’s going on.”

  Tearing his eyes from the horrible wreck of Will’s car, Adrian shook his head. “I want to keep my line clear in case he calls. You phone Beatrice and put her on speakerphone.”

  The phone rang three times.

  “Hello, Catinca. Can I call you back later?”

  “NO!” yelled the little Romanian. “Just seen Will’s car smashed up on telly but news says driver is woman. Where’s Will? Adrian and me want to know what’s going on. Not later, mate, now!”

  There was a muffled conversation then Beatrice’s voice came on the line. “Who else is there with you?”

  “Susie, Tanya and Frankie. All worried sick.”

  Beatrice exhaled. “OK, OK. Will was not in his car when it crashed. That said, we still don’t know where he is. Adrian, I’m so sorry about all this. I was following a lead and asked Will for help. I went to see a counsellor this morning and asked her a couple of questions because I had very good reason to suspect a link between her and Vaughan. She wouldn’t speak to me, a civilian, but said she could be able to offer more information to the police. Will agreed to go round and make enquiries. Now he’s disappeared and it was the counsellor who crashed his car into a wall.”

  Adrian’s head was so hot it must be letting off steam. “I couldn’t give a shit about your case, Beatrice. Where is Will?”

  “I’m with the police right now. We’ve searched the counsellor’s house and we’re now checking the grounds. It’s an uphill struggle in this weather and in the dark, but we’ll find him. I promise we’ll find him.”

  “Beatrice?” Frankie stepped forward to speak into the phone. “The counsellor who died in the car crash? Can you tell me her name?”

  There was a pause. “Yes, all right. Her family’s been informed so it’ll be on the news soon enough. Her name was Gaia Dee.”

  In the silence a
fter Beatrice rang off, the sounds of Slade floated up from the public bar below. Adrian’s phone vibrated again. Not Will. He declined.

  “This can’t be happening. My fiancé goes missing the night before my wedding?”

  Catinca squeezed his arm. “This time is OK.”

  “This time what is OK?”

  “Dramatics. I always tell you don’t be drama queen. Today, you can.”

  “Thank you,” said Adrian, but could do nothing more than clench his fists and try not to cry. A thought occurred and he lifted his face to the waiting women. “We should help. We should get to wherever it is and help them search!”

  “Yes!” said Tanya. “We have to do something. If he’s out there in the snow, he’ll be dead by morning. I just have no idea where to start.”

  Frankie’s expression changed from concern to conviction and she rotated her head to look at her mother. “I know where to start.”

  Everyone turned to Susie, whose frightened stare switched between Adrian and her daughter. She and Frankie locked eyes and Adrian sensed a battle of wills.

  “There is one place you could look,” said Susie, her voice defeated. “You’re going to need a driver. Tanya, go downstairs and drag Gabriel away from his beer. Tell him to take you to the hunters’ hide in Appleford Woods. Because of that crash, he’ll have to go the long way round.”

  Temperatures had dropped and Arctic winds broadsided the small party waiting outside the Land Rover. Catinca hunched her shoulders to her ears and Adrian put up his hood. The forest, silent and menacing, seemed impossible to negotiate. Yet Gabriel switched on his torch and picked up his first aid kit.

  “Won’t risk driving any further. We’ll walk the last bit.” He offered an arm to Tanya.

  “No thanks, I’ll only pull you over. You go ahead and I’ll follow. How far is this thing?”

  “Couple of hundred yards. You can see it from here on a clear night.”

  “What we looking for? Apart from Will,” asked Catinca.

  “It’s a viewing platform with a hide. Forest workers and hunters use it to observe wildlife. This is one of the highest in the region at fifteen foot,” Gabriel answered, setting off at a surefooted pace. “Watch your feet, it’s easy to trip. Try to walk in my tracks.”