‘You remember that place where I went for the writing retreat? Well, I’ve got to go and talk to the lady who runs it. Just for a few minutes.’
Kate seems to accept this. Ruth is always talking to strange people ‘just for a few minutes’. She settles back in her seat and favours Ruth with a stroke-by-stroke analysis of the gala. All Ruth has to do is agree that Kate was best, that the girl who beat her was clearly older than nine, and that Miss Redding has very big feet, almost flipper-like in her poolside slides.
The fens are lush and green in the midday sun. Although the weather is staying hot, the countryside is still far from the parched look of August. There are dog roses in the hedges and the lanes foam with cow parsley. They pass beet fields and wind turbines, motionless in the still air, birds sitting on wires, a horse and rider ambling along, ‘Please pass wide and slow’. Kate laughs at a sign for ‘Pidley Sheep Lane’, but then becomes bored and searches for pop music on the radio. Pharrell Williams’s ‘Happy’ fills the car and they sing along, although Ruth still can’t see what’s so happy about a room without a roof.
Grey Walls looks serene in the sunshine, softened by light purple wisteria. Crissy is waiting for them and she, too, looks tranquil in a long, white dress with her ash-blonde hair loose. She greets Kate enthusiastically and suggests that she sits on the veranda and draws a picture. As Crissy also supplies a wealth of coloured pencils and paper, plus a chocolate brownie, Kate is happy to agree.
Crissy kisses Ruth on both cheeks. ‘It’s so good of you to come.’
‘You said it was urgent,’ says Ruth. She’s feeling slightly constrained in Crissy’s presence. On the one hand, Crissy is still the same warm, empathetic person she was a few weeks ago. On the other, Ruth has since found out that she used to be married to a serial killer and writes anonymous notes to expert witnesses. Ruth also can’t forget the way Ivor March looked at her, as if he knew her intimately. Did that knowledge come from Crissy?
Crissy takes Ruth into her study, a room she has never seen before. It has none of the carefully casual charm of the rest of the house. There are steel cabinets and shelves full of lever-arch files. A yearly planner fills one wall. There’s just one small window but, through it, Ruth can see Kate’s dark head with its untidy, après-swimming ponytail, and feels reassured.
‘Thank you for coming,’ says Crissy again, as she takes her seat behind the desk. ‘I didn’t know where else to turn.’
‘What is it?’ says Ruth. She feels at a disadvantage sitting in the visitor’s chair. Previously, when she talked to Crissy, it was at the kitchen table or swinging gently in one of the porch seats.
‘You’ve heard about the girl who was killed? Heidi Lucas. Her body was found on the marshes near Cley.’
‘Yes,’ said Ruth. She saw it on the evening news the day after the excavation and the location, the Cley marshes, had given her a tiny shock of recognition and fear.
‘It’s him,’ says Crissy, staring at Ruth with eyes that look almost wild.
‘Ivor March?’ whispers Ruth.
‘No.’ Crissy waves this aside as if it’s a buzzing mosquito. ‘Ivor didn’t kill anyone. I know. I know Ivor. I was married to him for almost ten years. I know the things he’s capable of and cold-blooded murder isn’t one of them. No. It’s him. The Lantern Man.’
‘The Lantern Man?’ echoes Ruth. She realises that she’s still whispering.
‘Ivor, Bob and Leonard used to call themselves the Lantern Men,’ says Crissy. ‘They used to go out and rescue girls who were lost or in danger. Ivor didn’t have any children. His first wife had a late miscarriage and they knew the baby was a girl. I got pregnant once but I lost the baby too. Ivor was inconsolable, he was convinced that it was his fault. Afterwards I think he was always looking for daughters to care for.’
Her tone is affectionate but Ruth feels her flesh creep. She does not like the thought of Ivor March roaming the countryside ‘looking for daughters’. She also notes that Crissy talks about losing that baby as if this was only a tragedy for Ivor. How did it affect Crissy, who always seems the most motherly of women?
‘Bob and Leonard used to live here, didn’t they?’ she says.
‘Yes,’ says Crissy. She reaches onto a shelf behind her and shows Ruth a picture in a cheap, clip-on frame. It shows Ivor with two other men, one tall and thin, one shorter and wearing glasses. They are all smiling and someone has written across the bottom, ‘All for one and one for all.’
‘The three musketeers,’ says Crissy. ‘In those days when we were all one happy family. Me, Bob, Leonard and Ivor. Ivor taught painting, Bob printmaking and Leonard sculpture. I was the housekeeper.’ She laughs suddenly. ‘It sounds menial but I think it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. I looked after the house and John looked after the garden.’
‘And who was this Lantern Man?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t know. Ivor, Bob and Leonard called themselves the Lantern Men. They’d go out at night, looking for girls to save. They wanted to teach them that there was more to life than drinking and sleeping around. They wanted to teach them about Art and Beauty.’
Her voice gives capital letters to these last words. There’s a fanatical gleam in her eyes that chills Ruth still further. She remembers Nelson telling her about these trips to ‘save’ girls. It was the day that they had visited Ivor in prison. She remembers asking what happened to the girls and Nelson replying that Crissy ‘got rid of them’. She realises how little she really knows about the woman sitting in front of her.
‘You mentioned a Lantern Man, in the singular,’ she says.
‘Yes. Ivor talked about the Lantern Man. He said that he came with them at night sometimes and that he was dangerous. He was their dark side, he said. When Ivor was arrested for the murders of Stacy and Jill, I went to see him in prison. He said that he’d murdered them. The Lantern Man.’
‘He didn’t give you a name?’
‘No. He said that he didn’t know his name. He’d only joined them a few times and he’d used an alias.’
‘Did Ivor tell this to the police?’
‘They wouldn’t listen. You know what the police are like.’ She gives Ruth a strange, rather crooked, smile. ‘DCI Nelson is a hard man. He was convinced that Ivor was guilty. So was DI Johnson. Where DCI Nelson leads, she follows. DS Fuller too. All the women are in thrall to him.’
Now Ruth definitely doesn’t like her tone. ‘As I recall,’ she says stiffly, ‘there was a lot of forensic evidence linking Ivor to the crimes.’
‘Forensic evidence can be planted,’ says Crissy.
‘It can,’ says Ruth, ‘but it hardly ever is. Ivor’s DNA was on the bodies. Even his cat’s fur.’
‘Mother Gabley.’ Crissy smiles. ‘He loved that cat. You know she was named after a sixteenth-century woman from Wells who was accused of witchcraft. Chantal’s got her now.’
This heart-warming story doesn’t exactly reassure Ruth.
Crissy leans forward, not smiling any more. ‘And, if the Lantern Man doesn’t exist, who killed Heidi Lucas? It sounds as if she was killed in the exact same way as the others.’
Ruth shifts her chair backwards. ‘What do you want me to do about it?’ she asks.
‘I want you to talk to DCI Nelson,’ says Crissy. ‘Convince him that Ivor is innocent and that the real murderer is still out there. That’s why I wanted you to do the excavation. I knew you’d find something and that, if you had doubts, Nelson would listen to you. He loves you.’
‘I never said that he loved me,’ says Ruth, speaking with difficulty. ‘I just said that we’d had a brief affair and that he’s Kate’s father. Nelson’s married to another woman.’
‘I know he loves you,’ says Crissy. ‘And he loves Kate. He’ll listen to you. Talk to him.’
And, as much to escape as anything else, Ruth agrees.
&
nbsp; When she gets outside Kate is sitting at the wrought-iron table, surrounded by pictures. A dark man is leaning over her.
‘Kate!’ says Ruth, more sharply than she intended.
Kate looks round and so does the man. Ruth recognises John the gardener and her heart-rate returns to something like normal.
‘Hi, Ruth,’ says John. ‘Your daughter’s an artist.’
And Ruth thinks of the short story Nelson sent her yesterday. The story entitled ‘The Lantern Men’.
‘Are you ready to die?’ said The Artist.
*
Nelson and Michelle are eating Sunday lunch. As usual, Michelle has made a roast but Nelson thinks that there’s something sad about the small piece of pork (‘Serves two’) and the empty chairs around the table. George is in his high chair, smearing his face with apple sauce, but he doesn’t compensate for the absence of Laura and Rebecca and their spirited chat about people he has never met and TV programmes he has never watched. They invited Laura but she said that she was going out on a bike ride. ‘Perhaps she’s met someone at the club,’ said Michelle. Nelson kept his fears to himself.
Rebecca lives in Brighton where she has a big circle of friends and a boyfriend called Asif. Nelson is wary of any man around his daughters but he rather likes Asif, who is respectful and surprisingly good company. Rebecca hasn’t been home for a while. She took the revelation about Katie better than Laura but Nelson wonders if she has since distanced herself a little from the family unit. Maybe this is only to be expected. And it’s a long drive from Brighton to Norfolk. That won’t stop Nelson ringing her tonight and playing the guilt card though. ‘When are you coming to see us, love? Georgie misses you. Bruno too.’
‘Why don’t we go for a walk this afternoon?’ says Michelle. Bruno, who is lying in the doorway, pricks up his ears at this. ‘It’s a nice afternoon. We could go to the park and take George on the swings.’
‘Swings!’ shouts George.
‘All right,’ says Nelson. It’s not his preferred way of spending a Sunday afternoon but there’s no football on TV and he might as well get some exercise. After all, as Michelle is always reminding him, it’s important to stay fit after fifty.
Despite threatening to make them give up sugar, Michelle has made apple pie for pudding. Nelson is just finishing his second slice when the doorbell rings. Bruno barks once, in case they have missed it. Nelson and Michelle look at each other. George laughs delightedly.
Nelson sees blonde hair through the rippled glass of the door and, for a moment, his heart leaps. But it’s someone else’s daughter.
‘Hallo, Maddie. This is a surprise.’
‘I’m not interrupting, am I?’
‘No, we’re just finishing lunch.’
Michelle gives Maddie some apple pie. Maddie once lived with them for a few weeks and both Nelson and Michelle got into the habit of treating her like a third daughter. Fourth, in Nelson’s case.
‘I just popped round,’ says Maddie, ‘because I was going through that box of Jenny’s and I found some more photos. They were in an envelope and it was caught between the pages of a manuscript. Delicious pie, Michelle. Can I have another bit?’
‘Can I see the pictures?’ says Nelson, trying not to sound too impatient. Michelle gives him a look.
Maddie gets out a plain white envelope and tips two pictures onto the table. One shows Crissy Martin with two men, both of them looking at her with what seems like adoration. The second is a group photograph showing a crowd of people gathered round a bonfire on the beach. Nelson’s attention is immediately drawn to Ivor March, the dark hair, the supercilious expression visible even from a distance. There’s Crissy Martin too and Chantal Simmonds. Two other women are crouching at the front, one of them poking the fire. This is Jenny McGuire. Maddie points to the other one.
‘That’s her, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘Heidi Lucas. The girl who was killed.’
Chapter 19
‘So Ivor March did know Heidi Lucas.’ Judy is examining the photographs. Nelson is rather envious of the fact that she doesn’t have to hold them at arm’s length to do so.
‘Apparently so. Do you know who all these other people are?’
‘That’s March, obviously. Crissy is on one side, Chantal on the other.’
‘I bet he loved that,’ says Nelson. ‘His ex-wife and his mistress both all over him. But it’s interesting. Chantal told me that she’d never met Jenny.’
‘Well, she obviously had. This is quite a gathering. Next to Chantal is Bob Carr, the printmaker. That’s Leonard Jenkins, the sculptor who’s now a teacher. I’m not sure who that is . . .’
‘That’s John Robertson, the gardener at Grey Walls. I don’t recognise the man next to him.’
‘Nor do I. That’s Jenny McGuire at the front next to Heidi.’
‘And who are the men with Crissy Martin in the other picture?’
‘Bob and Leonard.’
‘Looks as if they’re both in love with her. Their tongues are practically hanging out.’
‘Leonard called her a “wonderful woman” but he’s gay.’
‘Doesn’t stop him being in love with her.’
‘You’re learning,’ says Judy.
Nelson ignores this. ‘What about Bob Carr? Wasn’t he in a relationship with Ailsa?’
‘Yes, but she married Leonard. It’s all very confusing.’
‘That’s one word for it. Anyway, we need to ask all these people about Heidi. This is a coincidence too far.’ He squints at the picture. It’s too small for him to see Heidi’s face clearly but she looks relaxed, one hand pushing back her hair, the other holding the stick with which she’s poking the fire. But what is Heidi doing here with these people?
‘You heard that we got the forensics back from the lab,’ says Judy.
‘Yes,’ says Nelson. ‘That’s good news.’ They have managed to retrieve enough DNA from the first two bodies for a positive identification. It is now beyond doubt that it is Nicola Ferris and Jenny McGuire who were buried in the garden of the Jolly Boatman.
‘Nothing on the third body?’ he says.
‘Not yet,’ says Judy. ‘It was in the ground longer so the DNA has deteriorated too much. But I’ve got Sofia Novak’s dental records. We should soon know if it’s her or not.’
‘Are you going to tell the families?’
‘Tony and I are just off now.’
‘OK,’ says Nelson, ‘but we need to ask Heidi’s boyfriend and family about these pictures.’
‘That’s Tanya’s patch.’
‘I suppose it is,’ says Nelson.
*
Nelson briefs Tanya who immediately sets off to see Josh Evans, Heidi’s boyfriend. Judy and Tony head out to visit the Ferris and McGuire families. Nelson disappears into his office to avoid talking to Super Jo, who is hovering on the edge of the briefing, the words ‘press conference’ forming on her lips.
He has hardly closed the door when his phone starts to buzz. ‘Ruth’ says the screen.
‘Ruth,’ says Nelson, ‘is it—’
‘It’s not about Kate,’ says Ruth. She sounds harassed and rather tense. Nelson imagines her in that depressing-looking office with the panels and the oil paintings. That place would be enough to make anyone feel stressed.
‘I got a message from Crissy Martin,’ says Ruth.
‘What?’ Nelson is on alert now.
‘She said that she wanted to see me urgently. That was on Saturday night. I drove over to Grey Walls yesterday. Crissy is convinced that March is innocent.’
‘Not another one,’ says Nelson.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that Cathbad has got some lunatic idea in his head that March didn’t kill the women. He said that it came to him during the excavation at the pub.’
‘Have you had the forensics r
esults? Does the DNA match? Are they Nicola and Jenny?’
‘Yes,’ says Nelson. ‘We’ve had a positive identification. Judy’s gone to see the families now.’
‘It’s a shame about the DNA on the third body but isotope analysis seems to show that she grew up in Eastern Europe. I’ll send you a simplified version.’
‘A simplified version is definitely what I need. Judy’s managed to get hold of some dental records for our potential victim. I’m hoping for a result later today. Carry on telling me about Crissy Martin. Did she have any evidence for suggesting that March didn’t do it?’
‘She said that there was a fourth man, besides Ivor and his friends. She called him the Lantern Man. She said that he killed the four women. She seemed to think that he’d also killed that poor girl who was found on the marshes the other day.’
‘The Lantern Man? What’s she playing at? Did she have a name or anything useful like that?’
‘She said that Ivor didn’t know his name. Apparently this man only joined them a few times and he used an alias.’
‘Ivor doesn’t know his name because he made him up. Does this Crissy think we’re idiots?’
‘No,’ says Ruth, ‘she says that you’re a hard man. She thinks that you want to frame Ivor and that Judy and Tanya do everything you say.’
‘I wish. Did Crissy say anything that might actually be useful?’
‘Not really. She just wanted me to convince you that Ivor is innocent. She seems to think that I have a lot of influence over you. I told her that was rubbish.’
Ruth’s voice is bland but Nelson suspects that she’s making a point of some kind. ‘Ivor March is guilty,’ he says. ‘He was the one who told us where to find the bodies, for God’s sake. Did you see anyone else at Grey Walls?’
‘Only John, the gardener. He was talking to Kate when I came out of the house. It gave me quite a shock at first.’
‘Talking to Katie? What was she doing there?’
‘I took her with me. We went after her swimming gala.’
Now Ruth really does sound defensive but Nelson can’t stop himself saying, ‘What possessed you, Ruth? That place is full of weirdos.’
The Lantern Men Page 15