I found a corkscrew and opened the wine, pouring it into glasses Rachel set out for me. ‘You’re sure I can’t help?’ I asked as she drained pans.
‘No, it’s about ready, thanks. Although you can put the dog food cake in the freezer. There’s a baking tray to scrape it into on the island.’
She gestured at the mixing bowl that Fay had been half-heartedly stirring. It contained a brownish mess, and a non-stick baking tray stood nearby. ‘So this is, uh, a treat for Cassie?’ I asked uncertainly, spooning it into the baking tray.
Rachel burst out laughing. ‘No, it’s pudding. Modged-up biscuits, raisins and melted chocolate, sort of like tiffin. That’s just a family nickname for it because it looks like, well …’
‘Dog food?’
I was pleased to see her laugh again. ‘It tastes better than it looks. Honestly.’
Footsteps on the stairs announced Trask’s arrival. In the bright lights of the kitchen I saw he looked better than he had yesterday, though not by much. The ratty sweater had been replaced by a faded black denim shirt and jeans, and the unshaven, greying stubble was beginning to look more like a beard. The glasses were pushed up on top of his head.
He took in the glasses of wine. ‘That looks like a good idea.’
Rachel looked startled as he went to the cupboard and took down another glass. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be having one.’
‘Well, I am.’
She turned away as he sloshed the wine into his glass, though not before I caught the unease on her face. They kept wine in the house, and Trask evidently didn’t mind other people drinking. But there was obviously some sort of issue going on here, and I hoped I hadn’t unknowingly triggered any kind of lapse.
Trask nodded approvingly as he took a drink. ‘You didn’t buy that in Cruckhaven.’
‘No, Tesco.’
‘Ah, thought I recognized the terroir.’
He was making an effort to be sociable. They wouldn’t have had many dinner guests recently, I realized. ‘Thanks for asking me over. I appreciate it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, it’s the least we can do after yesterday,’ he said, but not as though his heart were in it. He took another drink of wine, then picked up the bottle and topped up all of our glasses. Mine included, before I could stop him. ‘Where is Fay anyway? I thought she was supposed to be helping.’
‘She was. She just needed to go to the bathroom.’ Rachel lifted a pan to the sink and drained it. Perhaps it was only because I knew about the white lie that I could detect it in her voice. Trask didn’t seem to notice.
‘And Jamie?’
‘I bumped into him outside,’ I said.
Trask’s face hardened. ‘Doing what?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, hoping I’d not spoken out of turn. Christ, Rachel was right: this was like walking on eggshells.
He shot Rachel a look. ‘I told him he was eating with us tonight. He’d better not have taken himself off again.’
‘He won’t, he knows.’ She kept her voice inflectionless, clearly used to this sort of mediating. ‘Can someone set the table, please?’
I got up to do it but Trask waved me back down. ‘I’ll do it. I dare say you’ve been busy enough as it is, Dr Hunter.’
‘Call me David,’ I said, sidestepping the question. It might have been innocent or not, but I wasn’t going to be drawn into discussing work.
Trask took cutlery and cane place mats from a drawer and went to set the rosewood dining table. ‘So, do you know how much longer you’re going to be here?’
‘Perhaps a couple more days. But if staying at the boathouse is a problem, I can find somewhere else.’
‘If it was a problem you wouldn’t be staying there.’ He finished laying the table and took another drink of wine. Glancing at the almost-empty bottle, he went to the wine cooler and selected another. I saw Rachel give him a nervous glance. ‘How’s the investigation going?’
‘It’s progressing.’
‘Progressing.’ Taking a corkscrew from the drawer he used the spike to strip off the foil from the bottle neck. ‘What about that thing in the creek? Any idea yet who it was?’
‘Andrew, I’m sure David doesn’t—’
‘I’m sure David can answer for himself.’ He wound the corkscrew into place. ‘I’m being a good boy, I’ve not asked anything about Villiers. And I think I’m within my rights to wonder about the corpse my daughter was sharing the barbed wire with.’
The cork came free with a pop. Trask set the opened bottle down, regarding me with a hint of challenge.
‘Sorry, there’s not much I can tell you,’ I said, which was true however you looked at it.
‘You’re telling me the police haven’t said anything else about it?’
‘Not about who it is, no.’
My ignorance was genuine: I hadn’t even had time to read the post-mortem report Lundy had emailed earlier. Trask didn’t look satisfied, but before he could ask anything else the sound of the front door opening came from downstairs.
‘That’ll be Jamie.’ Rachel sounded relieved at the distraction. She went to the top of the stairs and called down. ‘Jamie, can you tell Fay to come up? Dinner’s ready.’
Trask fell quiet as we went to the table, pouring the last of the wine I’d brought into mine and Rachel’s glasses and refilling his own from the bottle he’d just opened. Rachel watched uneasily, but said nothing.
I should never have accepted Trask’s invitation, I realized. Renting the boathouse was one thing, but sharing a dinner table with the man was another. It was asking too much to expect him to avoid any talk of the investigation. And I should have had enough sense to see what sort of position I’d be putting myself in. Everyone outside the inquiry still believed that Leo Villiers was dead, and that the body the police had recovered from the estuary was his. So now I was about to sit down to dinner with the family of a missing woman, pretending I didn’t know her suspected killer was still alive.
What had I been thinking?
I became aware of Rachel looking at me as she brought dishes to the table. I forced myself to smile. I was here now: I’d just have to make the best of it.
Fay trudged up the stairs, a martyred expression of boredom on her face. ‘Where’s Jamie?’ Trask asked.
His daughter scraped a chair across the floor and slumped down in it. ‘He says he’s not hungry.’
‘I’ll go and fetch him,’ Rachel said quickly, but Trask was already getting to his feet. The same tight-lipped expression as I’d seen on his son’s face earlier was now on his.
‘No, you carry on.’
She watched him stride downstairs, anxiously. While Fay was preoccupied stroking and talking to the dog, which had come over to flop at her feet, I left the table and went over to where Rachel was taking the casserole out of the oven.
‘I should go,’ I said quietly.
With a glance over at Fay, she put the casserole down and turned to me. ‘It’ll be worse if you leave now.’
I didn’t see how it could be. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have come.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ she said softly.
I felt something unravel as the green eyes looked at me, a knot that had been there for so long I no longer noticed it. Rachel held my gaze as footsteps on the stairs announced the return of Trask and his son. Then, picking up a stack of dinner plates from the worktop, she offered them to me.
‘Please?’
Oh, hell. Wondering what I thought I was doing, I took the plates from her. Trask and Jamie came up as I set them out at the table. Neither of them looked happy as they took their places in silence. Jamie sighed ostentatiously as he sat down, watching his sister as she bent to stroke the dog.
‘It looks like you’re having a contest for who can have the most bandages.’
‘Shut up.’
‘I think Cassie wins. We should start calling her Frankencassie from now on.’
‘No we shouldn’t.’
‘It’
s alive, master! It barks!’
‘Stop it! You’re the one who looks like Frankenstein!’
‘And I haf created a dog! Rise, Frankencassie, rise!’
‘Shut up!’ his sister told him, but they were both laughing.
‘All right, quieten down,’ Trask said, and the brief moment ended. There was silence again as Rachel brought the casserole over to the table.
The scrape of the serving spoon sounded too loud as the food was dished out. I looked out of the long window and saw that night had once again turned it into a dark mirror. The creek had disappeared behind a smoky reflection of the room, where another five people sat around an identical table to ours. They didn’t look to be enjoying it any more than we did.
‘Help yourselves to jacket potatoes and broccoli,’ Rachel said, ladling steaming chicken casserole on to plates and passing them round.
Fay scowled. ‘I hate broccoli.’
‘That’s because it’s brain food and you don’t have a brain.’ Her brother’s tone was still jocular, but this time his sister scowled.
‘I’m cleverer than you!’
‘Yeah, in your dreams.’
‘I am! If you’re so clever how come you failed your mock exams?’
‘That’s enough,’ Trask snapped. ‘Fay, eat your broccoli and stop showing off.’
‘I’m not—’
‘I said that’s enough!’
The musical chink of cutlery seemed to emphasize the silence. ‘This is delicious,’ I said, taking up another forkful of food.
Rachel smiled, more grateful for the attempt at conversation than the compliment. ‘Thanks. The recipe calls it chicken stroganoff, but that’s just a fancy name for chicken and mushroom casserole.’
‘It’s very good,’ Trask said dutifully. He reached to pour himself more wine. I saw Rachel watching him. So did Jamie.
‘Can I have a glass?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Let’s just have dinner, shall we?’
‘I don’t see why I can’t have a glass of wine as well. I’m eighteen, I drink when I go out.’
‘But not in this house. Once you go to university you can please yourself, but until then you’ll do as I say.’
My stomach sank: after the conversation I’d had with Jamie I knew what was coming. Jamie’s expression hardened. ‘I told you, I’m not going to university.’
Trask paused, then resumed eating. ‘Don’t start that again.’
‘I’m not. You brought it up.’
‘Then let it drop. We’re not having this conversation now.’
‘Fine. There’s nothing to talk about anyway. It’s my decision, and I’ve already made it.’
Fay had been chewing slowly, watching them both wide-eyed. ‘I don’t want Jamie to leave home.’
Her brother gave her a strained smile. ‘It’s OK, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Stay out of this, Fay,’ Trask told her. ‘And Jamie, don’t make your sister promises you can’t keep. It isn’t fair to build her hopes up.’
‘What’s fair got to do with it?’ Jamie demanded. ‘It’s my life, I can do what I want.’
‘Jamie …’ Rachel said, but neither he nor his father paid any attention.
‘Not if you’re going to be a bloody idiot!’ Trask snapped. ‘I’m not letting you throw everything away on some juvenile whim!’
‘Right, because you’re such an expert.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You know what it means. You’re really lecturing me about bad decisions?’
‘That’s enough. Go to your room.’
‘Why? It’s true, we all know it! If you hadn’t insisted on dragging us all out here, she wouldn’t be—’
Trask’s chair screeched on the wooden floor as he jumped to his feet. I tried to think of a way to defuse the situation and came up with nothing.
‘What’re you going to do? Hit me?’ Jamie’s face was flushed and angry, making the twin patches that remained on his cheeks all the more livid. ‘Go on then, you’ve been dying to for ages! You might as well—’
‘Stop it!’ Rachel’s shout cut through the anger in the room. ‘For Christ’s sake, both of you, just … stop!’
Everyone looked at her. She stared down at the table, her chest rising and falling. The tension stretched out. Trask drew breath to speak, but as he did there was a loud hammering from downstairs.
Someone was at the front door.
19
IT WAS AS though a bubble had burst. For a second or two no one reacted, then Trask recovered.
‘Who the hell’s that?’ he said, turning towards the stairs. Whoever it was, they wanted to attract our attention. I could feel the floor vibrate as the banging continued. The dog started barking, adding to the din.
‘I’ll go. Shush, Cassie,’ Rachel said, starting to rise. Trask waved her back, a look of annoyance on his face.
‘No, you stay here.’ I got the impression he was glad of the excuse as he hurried downstairs. ‘All right, all right!’
The banging didn’t let up. Rachel turned to Jamie. ‘You OK?’
He nodded, but his colour still hadn’t returned to normal. ‘Yeah.’
‘They’re going to break the door,’ Fay said, sounding both indignant and scared as the hammering grew even louder.
‘Jesus, I said all right!’ Trask’s voice carried up from the hallway. The noise stopped as the front door was unlocked. ‘OK, what’s the—’
‘Where is the little fucker?’
There was a sudden commotion. I jumped up as heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs, and then Coker appeared at the top of them.
The oil-stained overalls and cap had been replaced by jeans and a short-sleeved shirt pulled tight over biceps and gut. The burly owner of the marine salvage yard came straight at Jamie, his face savage.
‘You little shit, I fucking warned you!’
I stepped in front of Coker, intending to try and calm him down. I wasn’t given the chance. He barged me aside, and whether by accident or design his hand caught me in the face. A flashbulb went off in my vision as I grabbed on to him, trying to pull him back. It was like trying to slow a bull. There was solid bulk under the fat, but instead of knocking me away he abruptly stopped. Blinking my eyes to clear them, I saw that Rachel had an arm around Fay, her other hand gripping the barking dog’s collar. Jamie stood in front of them, his face now pale but determined.
In his hand was the long-bladed bread knife.
‘What you going to do with that?’ Coker sneered, but he didn’t go any nearer. I still had hold of his arm, breathing in his odour of oil and sweat. As I wondered what to do next Rachel thrust the dog’s collar into Fay’s hand and advanced on him.
‘What the hell’s wrong with you?’
Coker seemed taken aback by her outrage. He jerked his chin at Jamie.
‘Ask him!’
Jamie looked confused, then he stared past Coker and his expression changed. ‘Dad? Are you OK?’
Trask had emerged at the top of the stairs, shaken and dishevelled but unhurt. His fists were clenched tight as he took in the scene.
‘You’ve got five seconds to get out before I call the police.’
Coker jerked his arm away from me. ‘Fine! Call them. Tell them what your fucking son did!’
‘And what did he do?’
‘He tried to rape Stacey!’
Jamie gaped at him, then his face suddenly coloured. ‘What? That’s bollocks!’
‘She phoned me up, terrified!’ Coker snarled. ‘She said you’ve been pestering her for weeks, wouldn’t take no for an answer! And when she wouldn’t change her mind you tried to force her!’
‘Me, force her? You’re joking, she’s been begging me to—’
Trask’s voice was like a whip. ‘Enough!’
‘But Dad—’
‘I said that’s enough. And for God’s sake put that bloody knife down!’ He turned to Coker. ‘Whe
n’s this supposed to have happened?’
‘There’s no supposed, it was after she left work this afternoon!’ Coker spat. ‘She called me in tears. Made me promise not to tell the police, didn’t want to get the little bastard into trouble!’
Jamie threw his arms up. ‘Oh, come on! She came out here wanting me to go to some crappy party tomorrow, and when I said no she slapped me and drove off! She’s just causing trouble!’
‘She should have ripped your balls off, never mind slap you!’ Coker’s fists were clenched, but he managed to restrain himself. ‘Stacey wouldn’t come here again, she knows better than that! You called her pretending there was something important you had to say, got her to meet you outside town and then you were all over her! Nearly ripped her top off!’
‘Dad, this is bullshit!’
‘Jamie was home all day,’ Trask said stonily. ‘I can’t say what your daughter did, but I can tell you he hasn’t been anywhere.’
‘How do you know? Been watching him all the time, have you?’ Coker sneered. ‘You stuck up for him before and you’re doing it now!’
This wasn’t my argument, but I couldn’t keep quiet when I knew something they didn’t. ‘What time was this?’ I asked.
Coker glared at me. ‘The fuck’s it to do with you?’
‘A white Fiesta with racing stripes nearly ran me over outside the boathouse about an hour ago,’ I said. ‘It was heading away from here, going back towards town.’
Coker’s mouth worked as he processed the information. ‘Fuck off! Stacey wouldn’t be seen dead in this place!’
I hesitated, then decided it was better to tell him. ‘She was here at the weekend as well. I saw her when I was waiting for my car to be repaired.’
If he’d taken the job he might have seen her himself, but I knew better than to mention that. Trask looked angrily at his son.
‘Stacey was here?’
Coker didn’t give Jamie a chance to answer. Now his full anger was focused on me. ‘You’re lying! You’re covering up for them!’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, why would a complete bloody stranger care enough to make it up?’ Trask demanded. ‘And how about you show some consideration for my daughter? She only got out of hospital this morning, and now you come bursting in her home making threats?’
The Restless Dead Page 22