HELL'S HALF ACRE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 2)

by JACKIE ELLIOTT

  “Katie,” Vega started, but she cut him off.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out why this is all happening to us. And I don’t know why. We don’t deserve it. But it started when this man—” she indicated the card — “this man here suggested I find the chapel and research that stupid story. I know this sounds crazy, Inspector, but I think he sent me there on purpose. I think he knew I’d find Ricky. And . . .”

  Vega held his hand up and looked at the card. Knights Development Ltd.

  “Katie,” he said, “we know about this man.”

  Terri put her hand over Katie’s and Doug started speaking.

  “Inspector, you may know about this man, but you don’t know everything. The thing is . . . I think he is not Mr Knight or whatever name he’s calling himself. I think it’s Arthur Whilley.”

  Vega nodded. “Go on.”

  Doug took a deep breath. “Inspector, a long time ago, Art Whilley wanted to escape from Coffin Cove. For lots of reasons, he felt trapped and desperate. People here, apart from my mother and Clara Bell and me — well, most people treated him pretty badly. Including his own family. It got wild back then, and Art was into some bad stuff. He wanted out, and he staged a house fire.” Doug’s voice faltered. “Art was good with chemicals and knew how to make a fire burn really hot, so nothing would be left. There’d be no way to tell if he’d burned up in there or not. But he wasn’t in that fire. Nobody noticed. Everyone was stoned or drunk, and all I had to do was scream that Art was in the house, when the fire had caught on enough for nobody to chance running in.”

  Doug looked at Inspector Vega and shook his head slowly. “I thought I was helping. My mother, before she died, she asked me to look out for Art. And . . . and I tried . . . but I had no idea this would happen.” He hung his head.

  Vega felt bad for the man, but time was seeping away. “Doug, do you know how he left?”

  Doug nodded. “He used the old mining tunnels. Smugglers used them. He left a boat at the end of one of them — comes out at Sharps Point. I helped him. If he’d left in his car, Dennis and Wayne would have known. But as it happens, Wayne went AWOL a couple of days before.”

  Did he? Vega thought. I wonder.

  Vega stopped the interview. He turned to Katie. “Katie, I can’t let you or your father leave yet. It’s not safe.” And then to Doug, “I’ll need you for a while longer. The person you know as Art Whilley, and we know as Mr Knight, we believe he’s abducted Jade Thompson.”

  Doug’s eyes widened. “The mayor? We hadn’t heard that.”

  Vega said, “She disappeared yesterday. We think she went to meet Knight . . . er, Whilley, and he snatched her. We think he’s holding her underground, possibly in the same tunnel he used to escape last time. We also believe he came back to Coffin Cove and murdered Nadine Dagg and the Haverses. We’ve heard the story you told Jim Peters, and the information from Clara Bell. We’re either about to embark on a search and rescue mission, or, if we’re too late, a recovery mission. Either way, we need to act fast. And I need your help.”

  Vega left Doug and Terri with Sergeant Fowler.

  “Come with me,” he said to Katie, and led her to the interview room where her father was still waiting. Lee was slumped over the desk when Vega opened the door.

  “Lee, you’re free to go,” he said as Katie rushed over to her father and flung her arms around his shoulders. “I know this is a terrible time for you. But if you would be willing to stay and answer a few questions, you may help prevent someone else suffering the same pain you’re going through. Would that be OK?”

  Lee Dagg looked up.

  “Whatever you need, Inspector,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Vega nodded.

  “Thanks. I’ll be back in a short while.”

  Vega went outside. The detachment was buzzing, and he needed some peace to make his next phone call.

  “Superintendent? I need more resources.”

  Vega tried his best. But Superintendent Sinclair wasn’t convinced.

  “You want me to mobilize an Emergency Response Team based on this story?” she asked incredulously. “Andrew, you have no direct evidence for any of this. It hasn’t been forty-eight hours since Jade went missing, and you want armed officers running around looking for a man who two journalists think has risen from the dead?”

  Vega was silent. He knew how it sounded.

  Sinclair sighed on the other end of the phone.

  “Hold off until you have more to go on. Wait for more forensics and see what you can do in the next twenty-four hours. Then we’ll assess.”

  Vega ended the call and felt like flinging his phone across the parking lot. He knew Sinclair’s hands were tied. She had limited resources, and Nanaimo was in the middle of a drug war.

  But what was he to do?

  He couldn’t wait twenty-four hours. He’d have to use what he had, even if it was entirely against protocol. Sinclair had left him no choice. He rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly aware how tired he was. Before he could head back inside, he heard the door open behind him.

  * * *

  Andi heard the frustration in Vega’s voice as he finished his phone call. The blue glow of his cell phone screen illuminated his face. He looked at the end of his tether, Andi thought. It probably wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but before she could turn and go back inside, Vega turned to face her.

  “Andi.”

  “Andrew, sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s OK,” he interrupted her. “Are you alright?”

  There was genuine concern in his tone.

  “I’m fine. Look, Andrew, about that article—”

  Vega waved his hand. “I don’t care about that now, Andi.”

  “I know. But still, I wanted to . . .”

  “Explain? Apologize?”

  Andi felt irritation rise, until she saw Vega smiling at her.

  “Well, both, I guess.” She tried to smile back, but instead felt like crying.

  Vega must have noticed, because he stood close to her and touched her shoulder.

  “It’s been a very bad day,” he said so softly that Andi strained to hear him, “and the only thing I care about is that you are safe.”

  He pulled her close to him for a moment and hugged her, and Andi found herself hugging him back.

  She felt him gently kiss the top of her head before he released her.

  “I need to get to work. Will you help me?”

  * * *

  Vega called his team together. Clara, Harry, Andi and Jim gathered at the back of the conference room.

  Andi saw Charlie Rollins and Matt Beaufort standing at the side of the room.

  Andrew Vega stood at the front and briefly shared Jim’s information. Andi saw his team nodding. They trust him, she thought.

  Sergeant Fowler stepped up to the front.

  “We believe Knight is still in Coffin Cove. There have been no sightings, but he hasn’t left town as far as we can tell. We have a roadblock checking all the vehicles leaving town. We believe Jade Thompson is in imminent danger, so we have to act fast with the very limited resources we have. So Inspector Vega and I have put together a plan. It’s . . .” she hesitated. “It’s unorthodox but we didn’t respond to a missing person report before and now that person is dead. So we’re not taking any chances.” She threw a meaningful glance at Andi.

  Andrew Vega stood up again.

  “I take full responsibility. But we act now. Sergeant, explain the plan and get everyone organized for first light tomorrow. Clara and Harry, I need you to come with me.

  Harry and Clara followed Vega to the interview room.

  “I need to look at your maps. We don’t have much manpower, so we need to narrow down the places Whilley might be holding the mayor.”

  Clara spread her maps across the table.

  “He’ll have her down a mineshaft. He knows ’em all.”

  “Which one?” Vega asked Clara. It was a tall ask, he knew. H
e didn’t want to put Clara under pressure. “It will be my final decision,” he told her, “I just need to rule out those shafts which are too dangerous or difficult to access.”

  Clara didn’t hesitate. “These,” she said, pointing to three shafts. “These have black damp.”

  Vega looked at her questioningly. “What’s that?’

  “Gas. Bad gas. It’ll kill you, but you’ll not know it until it’s too late,” Clara explained.

  “These are too far, and there’s no way out,” she said, pointing to others on the outskirts of Coffin Cove. “If he wants to take the girl.”

  If she’s still alive, thought Vega.

  “This one, this one and this one,” Clara said.

  Harry peered over her shoulder. “That one is an old smugglers’ route. The exit is here, near those rocks. He might go that way.”

  Vega thought for a moment. “Doug South said he left via Sharps Point before. Where’s that?”

  Clara and Harry showed him.

  “OK,” Vega said, “here’s what we’ll do.”

  * * *

  Vega stood on the steps in front of City Hall. Jim had done a good job, he thought. The response from the community had been better than he’d hoped.

  A sea of expectant faces looked at him as he called for attention.

  “Thank you for coming. Mayor Jade Thompson is missing. We believe she’s been abducted by the same man who killed Nadine Dagg and Dennis and Sandra Havers, and we believe he’s still in the Coffin Cove area.”

  He waited until the murmur of shock subsided. It was only a few hours ago, Vega realized. It felt like another lifetime to him, but some people here might not have heard about the murders. Was this a good idea? Too late now, he thought. Jade needed him, needed everyone.

  “We’ve narrowed down four areas where we think he’s most likely to be holding Jade. I do not have the resources I need to search them all without alerting the killer and allowing him to move Jade and escape. So I need your help.”

  Vega looked at the crowd, at the faces of men and women who had answered Jim Peters’ call for help.

  “We have to find Jade Thompson. We’ll divide up into four search parties. My officers will be with each party, and we’ll search one area each. We’ll conduct a grid search — we’ll explain how that works — and hopefully, hopefully, we will locate Jade. If any of you see this man—” Vega held up a picture — “do not approach him. Let my officers do their job. Please do not discharge your firearms.” He looked sternly at the men in the crowd carrying shotguns. “I need this man in custody. Let him face the consequences of his actions. And please, do not place yourself in any danger.”

  Vega let Sergeant Fowler arrange the search parties. He walked over to Andi.

  “Are you feeling OK?” he asked.

  Andi nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Join that party over there.” He pointed to a group of people gathered around an officer. It wasn’t until she joined the group that Andi saw the officer was Charlie Rollins.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Clara Bell pulled the lines free and threw them on the deck. Then, nimble as a goat, she hopped on board. The low chug of the diesel engine was barely audible above the cry of the gulls, as the Pipe Dream idled away from the dock.

  Harry sat in the wheelhouse steering the boat. When they reached the edge of the no-wake zone, Harry pushed the throttle forward and the Pipe Dream picked up speed, slicing through the silver-grey waves. He looked down and saw Clara standing on the deck, her face tilted up slightly into the morning breeze. She was wearing her customary long dark skirt, and her white hair was lifting and billowing behind her. She reminded Harry of a Viking warrior, invoking his own Norwegian heritage.

  Harry was fond of Clara. There was more than one mixed-up boy who had sought refuge at Clara’s trailer. Before Greta, Harry’s mother, had left Ed, Harry had escaped from the drunken violence of his home and found a protector in Clara. She’d never stood in judgment of either.

  “It’s a sickness, boy,” she’d told Harry once, when he’d stormed to her in anger, cursing his father and his drinking.

  Now, Clara looked out for Ed. She dropped in to see him, leaving food in the fridge and occasionally sitting with him on the porch.

  Harry could understand how young Art Whilley had befriended this solitary woman. What he couldn’t understand is how that boy had become a murderer, and, in cold blood, cut short another human’s life. Not once, but four times over. Clara had taught Harry compassion. Unwittingly, she’d taught Art Whilley how to kill.

  The first glow of sun was appearing on the horizon. By now, the search parties would be well underway. Harry frowned to himself. He wished Andi had stayed at the detachment, where she’d be safe. He didn’t understand why Vega sent her out with Charlie Rollins, of all people.

  Harry shared Andi’s opinion of Charlie, but she didn’t understand that he hadn’t been angry with her over the article, just frustrated. It wasn’t the way to change things in Coffin Cove. The people who lived here didn’t want to be told they were wrong, or backward, or living in the past. They knew they couldn’t be cut off from the rest of the world forever. But Andi Silvers and Jade Thompson would not change things overnight. And it would take more than Andi’s articles or Jade’s plans for funky murals and new bistros for Coffin Cove’s violent past to fade into the mists of time.

  Harry was aware of another uncomfortable feeling. He was worried about Andi. He cared for her more than he wanted to admit. He’d felt tension between Vega and Andi and wondered what that meant. But if that man cared for her, why would he send her into the bush while there was a killer running loose? Then again, he thought, it would do no good trying to tell that woman what she should do. Maybe Andi was more suited to Coffin Cove than he thought.

  Harry pulled his wandering thoughts back to the task at hand. He glanced down and caught Clara’s eye. He beckoned her to come up to the wheelhouse. He climbed up the steps and PC Matt Beaufort followed her. He was not a sailor, Harry could see. Telltale beads of sweat were forming on his top lip. Harry reached into a small compartment near the wheel and tossed Matt a small container.

  “Take two of those,” he said. “I get seasick too sometimes.” He didn’t, but why make the boy feel worse?

  He watched Matt gulp down two pills quickly.

  “Thanks, Harry.”

  “Not too far now,” Harry said to Clara. “That’s Sharps Point over there.” He pointed to the dark shape of a rock formation coming up in front of them.

  “Round the other side,” Clara said. “If the tunnel’s still open . . .” She left the sentence unfinished. If Art were to use this old smugglers’ route as an escape, they’d see some kind of boat moored. Otherwise, the trip was a waste of time, and they’d have to hope one of Vega’s teams had better luck.

  Just then, Matt Beaufort’s radio crackled into life. Harry couldn’t hear much over the drone of the engine, so just watched as Matt held the radio to his ear.

  * * *

  Jade tried to open her eyes. She was disorientated. She thought she heard voices, but perhaps they were only echoes or dreams. She thought she heard Summer calling her.

  “Mom,” she murmured and tried to move, but stomach pain followed by intense nausea stopped her.

  In her confusion, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Time to go,” a voice said.

  “Where?” she asked. “Where am I going?”

  “To meet your father,” the voice said, and someone pulled Jade to her feet.

  * * *

  Charlie Rollins was panting. Andi could see he was struggling. They were beating a path through heavy undergrowth. Clara had directed them to an abandoned mineshaft a kilometre west of Hell’s Half Acre. Years ago, a vast concrete tipple had unloaded coal into rail cars for transport to the dock in Coffin Cove. Now, the stone skeleton was crumbled and overgrown, but the shaft and the tunnel still remained.

  “Arthur knows these tu
nnels,” Clara had said. “This one is easy to get to, if you know where to look.”

  There were several openings where it would be possible for Art to have got into the underground tunnels with Jade, she’d explained. But the tipple opening would be the easiest.

  “The tunnel takes a fork a short way from the tipple. Arthur knows which way to go to get to Sharp’s Point. The other way leads east of Hell’s Half Acre.”

  Vega had made the decision. One party led by Charlie Rollins would search around the tipple, and another, led by Vega, would search the tunnel from the east end.

  “I hope we’re right about Art using the tunnels,” Vega had said grimly. To be sure Whilley wasn’t just lying low, waiting for them all to be tramping around in the undergrowth, Sergeant Fowler had set up a road block to catch him if he left by vehicle, and a group of determined-looking fishermen were patrolling the government dock.

  “It’s the best we can do,” Vega had muttered. Andi had wanted to give him a reassuring hug, but instead she strode over to Charlie Rollins and held out her hand.

  Charlie had looked at her for a moment, and then, to her relief, had shaken Andi’s hand.

  They’d been hiking for a while.

  It was a challenging walk for a fit person. Andi was feeling the strain in her leg. But for Charlie, overweight and desk-bound for years, it looked like torture. Sweat was glistening on his brow, and Andi could see damp patches forming around the collar of his shirt.

  Andi offered him water. Charlie grunted and refused. He stopped to take off his Kevlar vest.

  “Is that wise?” Andi was nervous. Charlie was the only one authorized to engage with Whilley if necessary. Vega had been adamant about that. It didn’t seem a good idea for the only police officer in this group to be exposed if they ran into the madman on the loose in the woods.