by Kate Rhodes
59
Lily is alone once more in the vaulted room, her ribs throbbing. She still can’t guess where she’s being held. The room is so huge it looks more like a crypt than someone’s basement. She could try putting on make-up, but it won’t save her life. No amount of camouflage will make her look like the girl in the photo.
She still can’t move, despite trying to free herself. When she looks in the mirror the thread of light catches her eye again – that hairline crack in the darkness seems to beckon her towards it. She presses her feet hard against the stone floor, dragging her chair forwards, a few centimetres each time.
Lily can’t tell how long it takes to cross the room, but it soon dawns on her that she has made a grave mistake. The hem of the wedding dress is black with dirt, the silk in tatters. If the killer sees the damage, her punishments will be worse than before.
When she manages to open the door, a steep staircase leads up to a small landing. The next door is covered in locks and bolts. It would be impossible to haul herself up so many stairs without falling, and the effort would be pointless. The killer is sure to have locked her only escape route from the outside.
60
I’m still clutching my phone when a text arrives. The message is from Eddie, saying that he and Isla have visited the hospital: Hannah Weber’s condition is unchanged. The injured woman isn’t the only one stuck in limbo. I need to find Nina before it’s too late. The receptionist at the Star Castle sounds too cheerful when I make my call.
‘Ms Jackson left earlier this evening. She went out on her own.’
‘Isn’t she back yet?’
‘I don’t think so, sir, but I can check her room.’
‘No need, I’ll do it myself.’
Instinct makes me grab the museum’s record book then hurry outside, ignoring the downpour. I hang onto Shadow’s leash so he can’t bound off into the darkness, but he looks back every few seconds, frustrated by my slow running speed. It’s only when we reach the entrance that his barking goes into overdrive. The dog is a few paces ahead when I chase down the corridor. Shadow reaches Nina’s room first, howling for attention, but there’s no reply when I hammer on the door.
‘Where the hell are you?’
The book drops from my hands as shock takes hold. Nina is missing too, having ignored my advice to stay put. When I look through a narrow window, the hotel grounds are deserted, with lanterns casting their glow on flowerbeds that have been flattened by the relentless downpour. Nina is the killer’s ideal victim: independent, solitary, with no intention of remaining on the islands. Shadow is losing patience now we’ve come to a standstill. He’s whining at full volume, the sound ear-splitting.
‘Shut up, can you? I can’t think straight.’
My hands are shaking when I see that the record book has fallen open on the floor, at the point where I inserted the missing page. Someone must have used a sharp blade to cut the sheet from the ledger, leaving a tiny strip of paper, by the book’s spine. I feel even more certain that there’s a link between the stolen items and the murders, gazing down at the list of donors. This time a familiar name jumps out at me, my brain going into overdrive as I rush back outside.
I’m still not thinking clearly when I unclip Shadow’s leash. He’s free to do as he pleases, but seems determined to stay at my side. My dog races across the grass, as raindrops hit my face like shrapnel, carried by a hard wind. He tracked Nina across five miles to Watermill Cove and now it’s my turn to do the same, before it’s too late.
My breathing’s ragged by the time I reach Church Road. I’m about to head for the Rawles’ home when a light inside the museum catches my eye, and I remember Frank saying that his wife often visits late at night to do a final security check. I rush through the entrance, calling her name, but there’s no reply. The only light comes from behind the counter, illuminating a list of benefactors engraved on a brass plaque. How did I miss the Rawles’ name, right at the bottom of the list?
Someone is moving around downstairs, their footsteps tracking slowly across the parquet. Elaine must be in the storeroom with the door closed, unable to hear me. I pull my phone from my pocket and call Eddie to get him to come to the museum while I wait for her to surface. He’s at the far end of the island, paying house calls to check everyone’s safe. My deputy’s tone is shocked when he hears that Nina is missing: we’re looking for two victims now instead of one. I can hear Isla speaking in the background, her tone brittle as I end the call.
The museum’s lights must operate from a central system because nothing happens when I press a switch by the stairs. I use my phone as a torch to make my way downstairs, but the dog streaks ahead, his night vision more acute than mine. Objects loom towards me; a row of ships’ figureheads ghostly in the dark. The lights flick on suddenly when Elaine Rawle emerges from the storeroom, her eyes glassy with fear.
‘Thank God it’s you,’ she whispers. ‘All that clattering upstairs scared the living daylights out of me.’
‘The door was unlocked. That’s a bad idea with a killer roaming around.’
‘It’s still hard to believe.’ The woman’s voice sounds weaker than before. ‘Did you come here looking for something?’
‘Just your help, when you’ve got your breath back.’
‘It’s okay, I’m feeling calmer already.’
Shadow’s behaviour changes when she approaches. He snaps at her, teeth bared, as she reaches down to stroke him.
‘Ignore him. He’s bad-tempered, but he won’t bite.’
‘There’s nothing to frighten him here.’ Elaine’s gaze is fixed on the Victorian sailing gig that’s been the museum’s pride and joy for decades.
‘What do you know about the families that donated items to the museum years ago, Elaine?’
‘Not a great deal. Why do you ask?’
‘Did you ring anyone about those sailors’ charms?’
She looks apologetic. ‘I’m afraid no one had any information.’
‘You’re lying.’
Her eyes blink rapidly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I found the missing page from the record book, with Leah’s veil. You can stop pretending.’
Her face distorts with anger. ‘I can’t believe Michael let you open the box. How dare you touch my daughter’s things?’
‘The sailors’ charms are from your family. You donated them to the museum, but regretted it after Leah died, so you cut the page from the ledger and hid it with her veil. Did you make an excuse to visit Michael’s recently, to leave it there?’
Her eyes have glazed over. ‘My grandmother began collecting the charms after her husband was lost at sea.’
‘No wonder Julian Power couldn’t find any record. You hid the jewellery you stole for a whole year.’
Her voice is cold when she speaks again. ‘It was mine by right.’
‘Where are Lily and Nina?’
Elaine starts to back away, but Shadow jumps up at her, jaws snapping. I realise now why Frank Rawle was so keen to get involved in the case.
‘You can’t hide in a place this small, Elaine. It’s time to face what you’ve done.’ Shadow’s barking goes into overdrive.
‘Keep that bloody dog away from me.’
‘Sacrificing those lives didn’t bring your daughter back.’ Tears roll down Elaine’s cheeks, but I don’t care how much she’s suffered. ‘Where’s Frank? I bet he planned all this with you.’
‘He’s at home in bed.’
‘That’s another lie.’ I reach forward to grab her arm.
‘You’re hurting me,’ Elaine’s voice rings out. ‘I didn’t do anything.’
I’m still holding onto her when footsteps shuffle behind me, but my reactions are too slow. Shadow jumps up to defend me, but Elaine delivers a vicious kick to his chest that sends him sprawling. There’s a sudden pain between my shoulders and I’m on my knees, my attacker shoving me to the floor.
61
Lily is still sitting near the bottom
of the stairs. She lacks the strength to drag her chair back to the mirror. It’s been so long since she ate anything, her vision is blurred, but her thoughts clear when raised voices drift down the stairwell. The fury behind each word is terrifying. She’s certain the killer would rather die than be taken prisoner. Fear and lack of sleep have left her exhausted, but she tries to imagine herself bold and confident like Sabine, strong enough to win any battle.
The voices stop suddenly, the quiet more ominous than before. Lily concentrates hard, but can only hear her own rapid breathing, the cavernous room filled with silent ghosts. Tension rises in her stomach when the door at the top of the stairs is wrenched open. Instinct tells her that she’s about to die. The killer’s tread is faster than before, then a new voice cries out, bitter with anger. When her eyes open again a man is tumbling down the stairs, arms braced to protect himself, but all she can do is watch.
62
My face batters against the last three steps before I land in a crumpled heap. I catch sight of Lily Jago a few metres away, swathed in white, her expression terrified. Both our lives depend on me recovering fast, but my limbs aren’t working, a burning pain searing my cheek. I’m still lying on the stone floor when Elaine Rawle lunges out of the dark. She grabs my phone from my shirt pocket, then hurls it at the wall, the plastic shattering.
‘I wanted to keep the girls here, on St Mary’s. Can’t you understand that? They made beautiful brides, like Leah. It was their destiny.’ Her voice is mournful when she stands over me.
‘Let us go, Elaine. You can plead insanity.’
‘I’ve never felt saner. This is for my daughter, not me.’
‘I know she killed herself. I bet you found Leah, not Frank.’
‘Don’t say her name! She was beautiful, even when she hung herself from the rafters in her wedding dress. My daughter was perfect then and she’s perfect now.’
There’s a mad certainty in her eyes when she binds my wrists with a short rope. Now that the shock is easing, the pain from my fall hits my system. Elaine is gathering more rope from the corner of the room and my last chance of freedom is vanishing.
I wait until she’s kneeling over me then kick her in the face, a fitting revenge for the lives she’s taken. My foot lands a glancing blow on her temple, sending her sprawling. There’s no sign of the headmaster’s elegant wife now. Grey hair tumbles witch-like down her back when she flies at me again, but my second kick lands right between her eyes. She falls like a deadweight, and it’s hard to believe that such a genteel woman could cause so much damage. Old-fashioned lavender perfume cloys in my mouth as I check she’s not faking being unconscious. Right now I don’t care if she lives or dies, but she can’t have acted alone. Elaine lacks the physical strength to abduct the victims. Her husband must have cudgelled me from behind then pushed me down the stairs.
‘Get down here, you bastard,’ I yell out. ‘What are you waiting for?’
Lily has dragged her chair closer when I pull myself into a sitting position. The pain from my fall makes my head spin, but the girl’s touch is comforting when she unties my ropes.
‘Have you seen the other one’s face, Lily?’
‘He always wears a hood.’ Her voice is shaky, but she’s holding it together.
‘It must be Frank Rawle. Don’t worry, help’s on its way.’
Lily is too busy undoing the knot to answer, and I’m more concerned about finding Nina than guessing the second killer’s identity. Once my hands are free I root through Elaine’s pockets, hunting for a key to unlock the girl’s chains, but I only find a pocket-knife, which won’t help at all. The door hangs open at the top of the stairs, and I keep hoping Eddie will guess I’m down here, but there’s no sign of him.
A man’s tall form thunders down the stairs before I can speak to Lily again. He’s brandishing a crowbar as he charges straight at me. I put my hands out to defend myself, but his first blow lands on my hip, making me shout out in pain. His mask covers his face, apart from narrow eye slits. I lash out with Elaine’s knife, but my injuries make me clumsy. He lands a second blow on my ribcage then steps aside as I run at him again, leaving me stabbing at thin air. I’m losing the fight when new footsteps resonate on the floor above. I’m praying that Eddie and Isla have arrived at last.
When another figure races down the stairs, his form is lost in shadows as I sidestep the killer’s blows. I feel a flood or relief when Harry Jago leaps onto my attacker’s back, his weight making him collapse forwards. The boy sits on his shoulders, pressing his masked face into the dirt.
‘How did you find us, Harry?’
Jago is panting for breath. ‘I followed him here. I knew it was him who’d done it.’
There’s relief on the boy’s face when he spots his sister, still in chains but definitely alive. Harry helps me roll the man onto his back, banding his arms at his sides.
‘Where’s Nina?’ I hiss at his masked face. ‘What have you done to her?’
I’m expecting to see Frank Rawle’s craggy features, but the picture blurs when I push back the hood. Jeff Pendelow stares up at me, a line of blood trailing from his nose. The shock is so powerful my voice falls to a murmur.
‘What made you hurt those women, Jeff?’
The psychologist lies completely still, with tears seeping from his closed eyes. Harry Jago is gripping his arms to stop him escaping, even though I can see he’s given up the fight. Pendelow’s shirt is torn, and the wound Jade Finbury inflicted on his ribcage is covered by a strip of dressing. When I think about him attacking her, anger floods my system again. Jade would still be alive if her blow had landed in the centre of his chest. Pendelow makes no attempt to resist arrest, and shame crosses his face when I tell him his rights. His eyes close once more, blinding himself to the punishments he’s facing.
63
Lily focuses on her brother’s face. Harry crouches beside her to undo the padlock, then puts his arm around her shoulders.
‘Are you okay?’ He scans her face for signs of injury.
‘Don’t let them take me to hospital.’ She reaches for his hand. ‘I know you didn’t hurt anyone.’
He shakes his head. ‘I couldn’t tell who was driving the car by Pulpit Rock, the night Sabine died. I only found out it belonged to Jeff’s wife when I broke into his garage, looking for a place to hide. The garden’s so overgrown the building’s almost hidden.’
‘So you followed him here. You saved my life, Harry.’
‘I should have worked it out sooner. What did those bastards do to you?’
‘They scared me, that’s all.’
The boy is crying tears that should have been released long ago. Pride has forced him to suppress his misery until now. When Lily puts her arms around him, time slips backwards. He’s the brother she used to adore, brave enough to scare the bullies away when he walked her back from school.
‘Take me home,’ she whispers.
Exhaustion topples her at last. Harry lifts her from her seat after her eyes close, with another woman’s wedding gown trailing along the ground. Lily is fast asleep when he carries her upstairs, into the light.
64
Eddie is the first person I see after hauling myself back upstairs, the museum’s strip lights dazzling me after too long in darkness. Harry Jago has taken his sister home and Tom Polkerris will be sent back to the hotel with his tail between his legs. The killers are being kept separate, but soon they’ll be safely locked in holding cells, contemplating long prison sentences. My deputy is fizzing with excitement when he rushes towards me.
‘Nina’s fine, boss, Isla’s with her now. She took a taxi to Watermill Cottage to meet the owners.’
‘Why didn’t she answer her bloody phone?’
‘She didn’t say.’
The fear I’ve been carrying loosens its grip, until Eddie’s smile vanishes. ‘Something else is wrong. Is it Hannah Weber?’
‘The other news can wait. Let’s get you checked over first.’
&n
bsp; ‘Tell me now.’
‘It’s Shadow, boss.’ He stares down at his hands. ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t do much for him in the end, except hold him and keep him calm. They kicked the life out of him. He was so badly injured, perhaps it’s for the best.’ His apology fades into silence.
‘Where is he?’
I push him aside, looking for my dog. Shadow’s body lies motionless on the floor and my own pain is forgotten when I drop to my knees. A coat has been draped over him, but there’s no sign of life when I say his name. No animal could survive the brutal kick Elaine Rawle delivered to his chest; the assault must have stopped his heart in its tracks.
‘The evil bitch,’ I mutter the words under my breath.
The horror of the case catches up with me at last. A dog’s death shouldn’t compare to two human fatalities, and a third victim whose life hangs in the balance, but I’ll never forget his wayward intelligence, or his bravery. I pull the coat back to look at him for the last time. His flesh feels cold when I touch his side, until a dull rhythm vibrates under my hand. It’s slow and erratic, barely perceptible, but it’s better than nothing.
‘Call the vet, Eddie,’ I yell out. ‘His heart’s still beating.’
It only takes ten minutes for the islands’ vet, Sam Nancarrow, to arrive. He’s my godmother’s oldest son, newly returned to the islands, and a childhood friend of mine. I can tell he’s horrified by Shadow’s injuries; he examines the dog carefully before administering an injection, then carries him out to his car.
My strength leeches out of me once the door closes, making my legs buckle. I slump on the floor, my back propped against one of the museum’s cabinets. Tonight’s events will soon be enshrined in local folklore, but whatever happens now, the island is safe. St Mary’s inhabitants can wander across its beaches all night long without fear of danger. The day’s tension is still flooding from my body when Eddie crouches in front of me.