by David Blake
‘I don’t suppose it had the senders address written on the back?’ Tanner called out, as Vicky and himself followed after.
‘Unfortunately not. It was very clearly delivered by hand.’
Tanner raised a curious eyebrow at Vicky as they re-entered the kitchen. ‘How can you be sure?’
Johnstone stopped to stare down at a stainless steel table piled high with evidence bags. ‘Because it has the words, “by hand” written in capitals over the front,’ he continued, fishing another bag out to hold up for Tanner and Vicky to see.
‘It is very clearly marked “by hand”, isn’t it?’ Tanner observed, taking the bag from him. ‘Underlined no less than three times as well, almost as if the sender wanted to make sure Wallace knew it had been.’
Handing it back, he cast his eyes down at the various other bags piled up on the table. ‘Anything else that could be of interest?’
‘Um…’ Johnstone replied, following Tanner’s gaze. ‘Oh, yes, we found a pen as well.’
‘A pen?’
‘It was lying on the floor, under the table. One of the forensics officers nearly trod on it.’
‘How very clumsy of him.’
‘It was a her, actually,’ corrected Johnstone, searching through the various plastic bags.
‘Either way; why would a pen be of interest?’
‘Before someone trod on it again we checked it for prints. None of the ones we found belonged to the victim.’
‘OK, I suppose that does make it slightly more interesting.’
‘Here it is,’ he eventually announced, holding another bag up for Tanner to take.
‘Well, it’s a pen alright. A black one at that.’
Stooping down, Vicky peered up at it from underneath. ‘Have you seen what’s written on its side?’
Lifting his arm so that they could both see, he followed Vicky’s gaze. ‘The Riverside Gentlemen’s Club. Well I never.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
STEPPING BACK OUT through the front door, Tanner and Vicky stopped under the overhanging pergola to stare out at the rain ricocheting off the various emergency vehicles parked around the property’s spacious gravel drive.
‘So,’ began Tanner, happy enough to wait there for a moment, ‘we have a fat little man who decided to take a stroll around his swimming pool during a category three storm in order to have a heart attack, a stuck-up neighbour who didn’t see a single person either enter or leave the property – despite spending half his life staring at the place through his bedroom window, a blackmail note that was definitely delivered by hand, and a pen from the local strip club that our victim hadn’t touched, but one of our forensics officers had nearly trodden on.’
‘Well, the pen was black,’ said Vicky, ‘and it was lying on a grey tiled floor, so it was probably quite difficult to see.’
‘Leaving to one side the fact that a police forensics officer nearly trod on what could prove to be a vital piece of evidence, during the process of looking for vital pieces of evidence, did I forget anything?’
‘That the forensics officer in question was a woman?’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes,’ Vicky continued, staring out at the rain. ‘I don’t have an umbrella.’
‘Anything relating to the investigation?’
‘Only that the blackmail demand was supposed to be left outside Happisburgh Lighthouse.’
Tanner thought quietly for a moment. ‘Isn’t that the one up above Stalham?’
‘It is,’ Vicky nodded.
‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance somebody lives there?’
‘Aren’t most of them unmanned these days?’
‘What if that one isn’t?’
‘Then it would be like asking someone to drop the money off directly outside their house. In fact, it would be exactly like asking someone to drop the money off directly outside their house. Nobody would be quite that stupid, would they?’
Tanner shrugged. ‘Well, according to McMillan, there are quite a few stupid people knocking about the place these days. Let’s just hope the person who wrote those letters is one of them. Are you ready?’ he continued, reaching behind his back to pull his fluorescent hood up over his head.
‘Ready for what?’
‘To drive over to the lighthouse.’
‘Er…isn’t that something Cooper needs to follow-up? I mean, you did put him in charge of the blackmail investigation.’
‘Shit, yes, of course. I’d almost managed to forget about him.’
‘I don’t mind going with you, but he’ll be seriously pissed off when he finds out.’
‘No, that’s fine. I’ll give him a call to let him know what we’ve found. Hopefully he won’t mind if I tag along. In the meantime, I suggest you get back to the station. See if you can find out who had touched that pen.’
‘One more thing,’ added Vicky.
‘What’s that?’
‘How are you planning on getting to the lighthouse?’
Remembering she’d given him a lift there, Tanner turned to give her a sheepish look. ‘Any chance of a ride over to pick up my car?’
‘I will on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That you lend me your coat.’
‘Er…’ Tanner began, staring out at the horrendous weather, ‘how about we share it?’
‘As you were the one who broke my umbrella, I think the least you can do is to let me have your coat.’
‘Er…I think you’re forgetting that it was broken when you gave it to me.’
‘I believe it was fixable when I gave it to you, which it most definitely wasn’t by the time you handed it back.’
‘I’m not sure that argument would stand up in court.’
‘I’m not sure the umbrella could stand up in court,’ Vicky continued, glaring over at Tanner, ‘not after your over-exuberant efforts to fix it.’
‘It could have if it was propped up against a wall.’
Vicky offered Tanner the hint of a smile. ‘Leaving to one side an umbrella’s ability to stand up on its own, be it in a court of law or anywhere else, to be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t offered me your coat sooner.’
‘Tell you what, I’ll share half my coat with you now, and buy you a new umbrella later?’
Vicky considered that for a moment. ‘OK, deal; but I don’t want some cheap crappy one found at the back of a charity shop.’
‘You do know that I’ve got literally no money, don’t you?’
Vicky folded her arms.
‘Alright, deal. But I can’t afford to spend more than ten pounds,’ Tanner replied, peeling off his sailing jacket.
‘I suppose that’ll have to do.’
‘And you may have to lend me the money to buy it,’ Tanner added, lifting the coat up for them to both huddle under before quickly trudging their way over towards Vicky’s car.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
WITH VICKY DROPPING him off next to his Jag parked near the river in Wroxham, Tanner was soon heading northeast, through Stalham, making a beeline for Norfolk’s dark stormy coast.
After half an hour of driving through buffeting wind and torrential rain, he eventually rounded a corner to see Happisburgh Lighthouse, rising up from a blanket of deep yellow corn, its broad bands of red and white standing resiliently against a growing mass of clouds beyond.
Following a line of telegraph poles, he turned to make his way up a narrow country lane barely wide enough for his car to pass, at the top of which was a carpark surrounded by a thick shoulder-high hedge. As he brought the car around he peered out through the rain, searching the seemingly deserted space for the familiar slender shape of Cooper’s car.
‘Where the hell is he?’ he questioned, leaving the engine ticking over to help keep the windows from steaming up. Having suggested to meet him there only a few minutes after Vicky had brought up his name, Tanner couldn’t help but think he should have been there by now, and was about to call him agai
n, when he saw another car’s headlights begin sweeping around the carpark behind him.
‘Better late than never,’ he muttered, donning his fluorescent hood once more to climb out.
‘You took your time,’ he called, the moment Cooper had opened his door.
‘I wasn’t aware that there was any rush,’ the young DI replied, stepping out to turn up the trendy slim collar of a black city raincoat. ‘As I said on the phone, there won’t be anyone here. Nobody’s dumb enough to leave their address as the drop off point to a blackmail demand, present company accepted, of course.’
Tanner could feel himself bristle with repressed animosity. ‘Maybe so, but it’s still our job to look.’
‘Of course, but don’t you think it could have waited, at least until it had stopped raining?’
‘Time and tide,’ Tanner replied, with a thin smile.
Cooper glared at him, his face and hair already soaking wet. ‘What the hell’s the tide got to do with it?’
‘Nothing,’ Tanner mumbled, unsurprised to learn that he’d not heard the phrase before. ‘Shall we go?’
Cooper gazed wildly about. ‘Go where? There’s absolutely nothing here!’
‘You mean, apart from the lighthouse?’
‘People don’t live in lighthouses; at least not anymore they don’t.’
‘Well, there’s only one way to find out.’
Turning on his heel, Tanner marched over to the wide base of the giant cylindrical tower where a small door could be seen covered with dark green paint. With no sign of either a bell or a knocker he pounded his fist on its hard wooden surface before taking a step back to stare up, searching for even the vaguest signs of life.
‘Told you,’ Cooper muttered, when no answer came.
Ignoring him, Tanner stepped forward to hammer again, but by that time it was clear that there was nobody home.
‘Looks like you were right,’ Tanner eventually conceded, turning to offer Cooper a congratulatory grimace. ‘Well done.’
Cooper responded with a conceited smirk. ‘Even a complete moron would have known there wouldn’t have been. Right, I’m heading back to the office. Thanks for wasting my time. I can’t say how much I appreciate it.’
‘Anytime,’ Tanner replied, grinning with sarcastic glee to watch Cooper stomp back to his car looking every bit like a drowning rat attempting to board a rapidly sinking ship.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
AFTER WATCHING COOPER slam his car into reverse before wheel-spinning away, Tanner hunched his shoulders over to begin plodding back to his own at a more casual pace, taking a moment to be grateful for his sailing jacket, the one Jenny had bought him all those years before. Without it, he’d have been just as wet as Cooper. As it was, the only part of him that was admittedly drenched was the lower half of his trousers, which he could feel clinging uncomfortably to his shins.
With Cooper’s car disappearing back down the lane, he hooked a hand under his car’s chrome plated door handle only to hear the distant sound of something being slammed shut. Instinctively, he glanced back at the lighthouse, but it hadn’t come from there. The noise had come from behind him, somewhere beyond the surrounding hedge.
Leaving his car as it was, he trudged his way over to find that there was a narrow over-grown gap beyond which was a path leading to a small country cottage, inviting yellow lights glowing gently behind a series of modest lead-lined windows.
After making his way up to the front door, he ducked underneath a carved wooden porch to lift and release a heavy cast iron knocker.
A moment later he heard the sound of a heavy bolt being slid back from the other side, leaving him greeted by a pair of searching eyes staring out from the angular weathered face of a balding middle aged man.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ Tanner began, digging out his ID, ‘Detective Inspector Tanner, Norfolk Police.’
‘On a day like this?’ the man questioned, staring first at Tanner, then down at his ID.
‘I’m making enquiries about the lighthouse.’
‘What about it?’
‘Do you know if anyone lives there?’
‘Not for years. Why?’
‘But someone must come around to service it, occasionally?’
‘No doubt they do, but its nobody I know. Some private company, I think.’
‘How often do they come?’
The man shrugged. ‘Once a month. Something like that.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen anyone hanging around there recently?’
‘Well, we get the occasional tourist. Not in weather like this, mind.’
‘Who is it, Daddy?’ came the inquisitive chime of a young girl’s voice, calling out from somewhere inside.
‘Nobody, darling,’ the man responded. But if his words had been meant to dissuade her from coming to take a look, they failed in their primary objective as she came bounding into the hallway behind him, a slim pretty face accentuated by a pair of cobalt blue eyes.
‘Hello!’ the girl said, offering Tanner a curious smile.
‘Er, hi,’ Tanner responded, his eyes resting awkwardly on hers for the briefest of moments before glancing away. Simply put, the girl was beautiful. She was also extremely young.
‘Forgive my daughter,’ the father said. ‘We don’t often get visitors here.’
‘No, of course. That’s fine.’
‘My name’s Alice,’ the girl continued, holding out her hand with impetuous excitement.
‘Er, Tanner, John Tanner,’ Tanner replied, finding himself raising his ID again in a bid to avoid having to shake the young girl’s hand. ‘Norfolk Police.’
The girl stopped to stare at it, her proffered hand falling away as her neck and cheeks flushed with blood.
Noticing her reaction, the father turned to look around at her. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, darling, he’s just asking about the lighthouse.’
‘What about it?’ the daughter enquired, lifting her eyes to meet with Tanner’s.
‘I was just asking if anyone lives there?’
‘Nobody, no. Not for years.’
‘So your father said.’
‘Anyway,’ the father continued, ‘you’d better get yourself back to that homework of yours.’
‘Of course,’ she replied, with an obedient nod.
Shifting her eyes back to Tanner, she smiled again. ‘Nice to have met you,’ she suddenly said, as if remembering that it was the sort of thing she was supposed to say having just met someone new.
‘Nice to have, er, met you too,’ Tanner replied, stumbling over the words as the girl spun away.
Feeling the father’s eyes boring into his, Tanner cleared his throat. ‘She seems nice,’ he eventually said, unsure as to what else to say.