The Fourth Friend

by Joy Ellis

  ‘Howdy, pardner!’ Carter knelt down and stuck out a hand. So this was Jack’s little girl. She needed to get out of this hole, and she was going to need his support to do it. He felt an unexpected surge of emotion. ‘Hello, Phoebe. I’m Carter.’

  The child stared at him.

  ‘She’s not good with people she doesn’t know.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that.’ Carter smiled. ‘Do you have a car seat for her?’

  Kim nodded and went back inside. The seat she produced was top of the range. ‘My parents still haven’t got the message that you can’t always buy yourself out of a bad situation.’

  Hearing her say that, Carter took a deep breath and wondered how she would feel when she heard his proposal.

  She handed the seat to Carter. ‘Okay, we’ll come. I carry pepper spray, so no funny stuff, alright?’

  ‘You do know they are illegal?’

  ‘It’s defence spray, smart-arse.’

  Carter grinned. He was beginning to see why Jack had liked her.

  ‘So where are we going?’ she asked.

  Carter led the way out and opened his car door. ‘Sutterthorpe Village.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘Not yet, why?’

  ‘I’m going to get you both fish and chips. And like I said, I have something to show you.’

  It took only a few minutes to reach the village and collect their supper. The three of them walked across the green and sat on a bench overlooking a children’s play area. To an outsider, thought Carter, we must look like a nice little family enjoying the evening together.

  Kim looked around. ‘It’s nice here, isn’t it?’

  ‘I hoped you would think so.’ Carter’s tone had grown serious. ‘Kim, before he died, Jack wanted to make some sort of provision for you and your daughter. It was always a joke between us. I was the rich git, and he was just a poor sod.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I am well off, and now Jack can’t help, I want to.’

  Kim ate slowly, listening to his words.

  ‘My mother died when I was a kid and my father was an evil bastard. I have no family and no close relatives. The only thing I do have is money.’ He exhaled. ‘See that new development over there?’ He pointed to a cul-de-sac of small new-build starter homes on the far side of the green. ‘Quite small, only two-up two-down, with fitted kitchen, bathroom and shower, oh, and a nice little garden and a garage in a block around the back. If you want one, it’s yours. For Phoebe, from her father.’

  He ate a chip and waited for her reply.

  Kim said nothing. Then he saw that tears were running down her face. ‘I wondered, that is, I thought that maybe . . .’ She sniffed. ‘Please tell me my parents aren’t behind this. They’re not, are they?’

  Carter shook his head. ‘I have no idea who your parents are, Kim. This is just me. I’m trying to find a way to say sorry to Jack.’

  ‘Sorry that you are alive and he isn’t?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘You should give thanks that you are alive. You can’t live feeling guilty all the time. That’s how things are, Carter McLean. You win some, you lose some.’

  ‘Will you let me help you?’

  ‘I’d be a real idiot if I said no, wouldn’t I?’

  Carter breathed out. ‘Phew! Well, here’s the plan.’

  It took a while to explain how the trusts and allowances would work, but by the time their supper was finished, Kim Walker looked like a different woman.

  ‘I did love Jack, very much.’ She looked at him from dark brown eyes. ‘But my parents put enormous pressure on us. I left home after they split us up. I went a bit wild for a while.’ She pulled a face. ‘Hence my present lodgings, and the people there.’

  ‘It shouldn’t take too long to sort out. And in the meantime, I suggest you pack your things, and I’ll check you into a local hotel.’ He gave her his most winning smile. ‘And no funny stuff, I swear!’

  She smiled back. ‘Jack trusted you, so I guess that’s good enough for me. And he told me all about you and your friends rebuilding the Eva May. He promised me a trip to see it, but we never got there.’

  ‘It’s nearly finished. If you like, I’ll take you one day, just so you can see what he was talking about.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ She looked at her daughter who was unsuccessfully chasing a duck around the green. ‘I was terrified of what would happen to her. Now . . .’

  ‘Now you can forget about worrying. She’ll be well provided for. You both will.’ He paused. ‘I wonder why Jack never talked to me about you and his daughter. We talked about so much. It seems odd that he never brought you to see me.’

  ‘Well, he must have talked about his plans for us, or you wouldn’t be here, would you?’

  Carter experienced a moment of panic. He had done it again, let his mouth take over. ‘I . . . I mean he never explained how serious the situation was with your parents, and he did keep you secret. He only came clean when we were on our way to Holland.’

  Kim seemed satisfied with that. ‘My mother and father came down really heavy on Jack, almost to the point of serious threats. We decided to keep our meetings hidden from absolutely everyone, so I guess that meant you guys too.’ She looked sad. ‘After that, I went off the rails a bit. I never thought things would get better again.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘But this is like some kind of modern day fairy story. I still can’t believe it.’

  ‘Believe it. I’m just sorry that I’m no Prince Charming.’

  She leant across and pecked his cheek. ‘Well, you’re not a frog, and you are my knight in shining armour.’

  ‘No, Kim, that’s Jack. It’s all down to him.’

  He handed her a tissue.

  * * *

  Robbie hadn’t really looked forward to his “holiday.” He wasn’t a big drinker and he never went clubbing, so the understated nightlife in the Spanish town of Sanxenxo came as a pleasant surprise.

  And the Galician coast was unbelievably beautiful. He had arrived at night, but everywhere he saw flyers and leaflets describing the numerous hiking trails, impressive scenery and wild landscapes. Robbie loved walking, and he decided he would come back here one day.

  The nightlife turned out to be rather cosy and casual. It seemed to revolve around bars, cafes and lounges. He found Harvey Cash in a quiet backstreet bar. He was pretty drunk, but Robbie already knew that this was more or less normal.

  He noted what Harvey was drinking, went to the bar and ordered two large gin and tonics.

  ‘I hate it when someone hangs up on you, don’t you?’ Robbie pushed one of the tall, frosty glasses towards Harvey. ‘So I thought I’d come and take a closer look at the man who put the phone down on me last night.’

  Harvey’s eyes widened. He made an attempt to stand, but Robbie pushed him back into his chair. ‘I paid for my flight myself. So I’m sodding well going to make it worth my while. I’m not leaving your side until you tell me why Suzanne was such a bitch . . . as you put it last night.’

  Harvey seemed to deflate. ‘You aren’t going to go away, are you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Well, I’m not talking here. We’ll finish these, then you are going to buy a bottle, correction, you are going to buy two bottles, and we go back to my place. And that’s the only way it happens.’

  ‘I can live with that.’ The only thing that Robbie was unsure of was how he was going to keep a clear head. After watching his parents get paralytic on far too many ‘social’ occasions, he had steered clear of alcohol. In fact the last time he’d had an alcoholic drink had been at Christmas. This was not going to be easy.

  ‘When I heard you were a holiday rep, I kind of expected an 18-30 resort full of raucous drunken Brits throwing up all over the place.’ He glanced around. ‘But this place is really nice.’

  ‘Some of the quieter coves are the best on the coast. I lived here for a while, way back. Now I’ve come full circle. I do
n’t think I’ll be moving on now.’ Harvey ran a hand through his thinning hair, picked up his drink and downed it. He belched loudly. ‘Ready?’

  Robbie watched in horror. ‘Sorry, mate. No way can I do that!’

  ‘Then I’ll help you. It’ll be just like magic! You get two bottles of Ribeiro from my friend Mateo at the bar, and by the time you’ve paid and given Mateo a generous tip, this will have disappeared, abracadabra!’

  Twenty difficult minutes later — Harvey kept insisting that they should go to another bar — Robbie and Harvey arrived at the apartment.

  Robbie was surprised. The place was quite respectable. Apart from a few odd empties in various slightly obscure places, it was pretty tidy.

  Harvey flopped down onto a brightly coloured sofa. ‘Glasses in the kitchen cupboard over the fridge. The wine is very good. Local stuff, but excelente, so maybe you’ll do better with that than the gin.’

  Robbie poured the wine and took a sip. Not bad at all. He handed Harvey his glass, and then sat down on an oversized bean bag.

  ‘You must be pretty desperate to come here, what did you say your name was?’

  ‘Robbie. And, yeah, pretty desperate.’

  ‘Why me and not her next model? Er, Tom what’s-his-name.’

  ‘He’s dead, Harvey. Tom Holland was killed in a plane crash.’

  ‘Trying to get away from her, was he?’

  ‘No. Although I understand from our files that he was not living at home when she went missing.’

  ‘No surprise.’ He took a long slug of his wine. ‘So, what about her creepy brother? He was always hanging around her. He could probably tell you more than anyone.’

  Robbie looked at him. What brother? How come he wasn’t mentioned anywhere? How many more surprises was he going to uncover about Suzanne Holland?

  ‘He’s a new one on me, Harv. Who is he?’

  Harvey puffed out his cheeks. ‘Ah, well, can’t say I remember. They had different surnames, but she called him . . . Oh, yes, Ralphie. That’s right, Ralph Dolan!’

  Robbie scribbled the name into his notebook. ‘Why did you say he was creepy?’

  ‘Had that pervy look to him. Not the kind of guy you’d leave alone with anyone, not even your dog.’

  ‘Do you know where he is now?’

  ‘Rotting in hell with his half-sister, hopefully.’

  ‘He’s dead?’

  Harvey grinned wickedly. ‘Sorry, just wishful thinking. I have no idea where he is.’

  ‘But you do think she is dead?’

  ‘I really do hope so.’

  Robbie sipped his wine. He was beginning to feel almost mellow, and at least he had a new name to chase up when he got back. ‘I hate to do this to you, mate, but could we talk about why I’ve come here?’

  The smile vanished.

  ‘Okay.’ Harvey sighed. ‘Have another drink, Robbie. Then sit back and I’ll tell you all about the lovely Suzanne . . .’

  * * *

  That night Carter slept until four in the morning. He woke to see the lone figure of Tom, sitting at the foot of his bed. The stench was appalling.

  ‘Tom?’ He eased himself up and rested on his elbow, trying to focus on his friend. ‘Well, I guess it’s finally your turn, mate.’

  The figure slowly faded. Carter stared into the darkness, a single word ringing in his ears.

  Suzanne.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Sir!’ Charlie called across the CID room. ‘I’ve got a man on the line here, who might have some new information about Suzanne Holland!’

  Jackman hurried over to Charlie’s desk, and took the receiver. ‘Detective Inspector Jackman here. I believe you have some information regarding the Holland disappearance?’

  ‘My name is Alan Pitt. I’ve been working away from home for a while, but I’ve had to come back to receive a course of hospital treatment. That’s where I saw the TV appeal for witnesses. I’m due to be discharged tomorrow morning.’ There was a throaty cough, then Pitt said, ‘I think I saw something that night.’

  ‘We’ll come and talk to you, sir. What hospital are you in?’

  ‘Lincoln, but I’d appreciate it if I could be allowed to finish my treatment first. It’s pretty exhausting. Isn’t this what you call a “cold case?” Surely it can keep for one more day.’

  It sounded like the man was in the oncology unit, so Jackman did not insist. ‘Of course, sir. Shall we see you at your home, or would you prefer to come here?’

  ‘I’ll come to the station. I’ll make it as early as I can, unless there is any holdup here.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Jackman paused. ‘Can I just ask, did you actually see something happen?’

  ‘I saw two men acting strangely on the towpath, at the spot described in the appeal.’

  ‘I know this is a long shot. It was a long time ago. But do you think you would recognise either of them if you saw them again?’

  ‘Funnily enough, yes. Well, one of them. He reminded me of my cousin.’ There was another bout of coughing. ‘I need to go, but I’ll come in tomorrow.’

  Jackman took his details and thanked him. ‘Charlie, go inform the desk sergeant about this man, and tell him to call CID the moment he arrives.’

  Charlie hurried off.

  A lead! It sounded like a valid one too. Jackman turned and saw Marie looking at him expectantly. ‘Well, let’s just hope he’s got an eidetic memory, and is a descriptive genius!’

  Marie raised her eyebrows. ‘Let’s not get too excited. Most people can’t recall someone they saw two hours ago, let alone eighteen months. I reckon it’s a very long shot indeed. Still, Orac tells me there’s much better software available these days.’

  Jackman nodded, and shivered slightly at the mention of Orac.

  Orla Cracken, known to everyone simply as Orac, was a computer wizard who ruled her underground domain with a rod of iron.

  Jackman was terrified of her.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Maybe we should pin our hopes on Robbie, and hope he has some luck with Suzanne’s ex in Spain.’

  ‘He’s a really good copper, isn’t he?’ said Marie. ‘I mean totally dedicated.’

  Jackman nodded. ‘Yes, he is. I’m glad we took him on board.’

  ‘I like him,’ Marie added. ‘I like the whole team, but Robbie’s a one-off, isn’t he?’

  ‘Sometimes I think he’s trying to prove something. I’m just not sure whether it’s to us or himself.’

  Marie nodded. ‘I think he’s trying to be the best he can for his old crewmate. Stella North had to give up the job she lived and breathed for after she was injured, and Robbie, well, I think he’s taken up her baton. He’s doing it for her.’

  ‘I’d rather he did it for himself. But I’m not complaining! He’s a credit to us, no matter who he’s doing it for.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘He managed to get a ticket for yesterday evening and flew out at eight thirty. He reckoned the bars would just be hotting up when he arrived.’

  ‘Ah, sun, sea, and sangria! I think Max was right, he is a jammy little git!’

  ‘If the ex gives him what he’s looking for, he’ll be catching a flight straight back this evening. Not a lot of time for clubbing.’

  ‘Ah, shame.’

  ‘Said with feeling, I don’t think.’ Jackman smiled. ‘Why don’t you try to get a holiday sometime, Marie? You look so tired.’

  ‘Maybe. When the investigation is over, and when . . .’

  She left the sentence unfinished, but Jackman knew what she was about to say. When Carter is back on an even keel. ‘Somewhere hot, I suggest.’

  ‘I was thinking more of spending some time with my mum in Wales.’

  Jackman winced. ‘You like rainy holidays?’

  ‘Not much, but I do like my mum,’ said Marie with feeling. ‘She refuses to take off for sunnier shores, so I guess it’s Cymru or nothing.’

  Marie returned to her desk. Jackman wished he could buy her two tickets to the warmest, most beautiful p
lace he could think of. He had seen officers burn out in the past, and he didn’t want it happening to one he cared for, not to mention one that was so damned good at her job. He took a deep breath. They needed to get this case out of the way, then he’d try to ensure that Marie took some badly needed R&R.

  * * *

  It was Carter’s day off. It didn’t feel right, but he knew that if he didn’t back off occasionally, he’d pay for it. He got up late, and after breakfast decided to go down to the Eva May.

  Before he went, he rang Marie. ‘Even the slightest hint of anything occurring with Leah, you ring me, okay? I’ll be on the boat, so I can get to you in fifteen minutes.’

  Marie told him to forget about everything. Between her and uniform, and the super, Leah was well looked after. She promised faithfully to ring him if anything did happen.

  Down at Stone Quay, the sunshine glistened off the Eva May and Carter felt a jolt of pride. He and the lads had done a bloody good job.

  When they first got her to the quay, they had almost despaired. But as the months went by, the lovely old lifeboat had begun to show signs of coming to life again. Carter had enlisted the help of a group of owners and enthusiasts of wooden boats. He’d even asked some of his father’s old business colleagues to help with equipment for lifting and turning her. Matt was a master carpenter and he had been invaluable. He had soon stripped away the rotten planks on her hull and replaced them with new mahogany ones that he had needed to steam into place. He remade oak fenders and strengthened the gunwale. He had set Carter and Jack to work cutting and planing wood for the deck panels.

  The engine had been Ray’s baby, and he was a genius. They had managed to acquire an old second-hand engine, which Ray had stripped down, repaired and installed.

  Tom had tackled the bronze and metal work. He taught the rest of them all about galvanised centreboards, mast tabernacles, prop shafts and propellers.

  The work had never seemed to end. They needed sails, spars and a new engine canopy and then, all at once, they were painting the hull.

  Now there was little to do, and Carter was alone. But he needed to finish what they had all started.