by Joy Ellis
‘Believe me, I don’t either. Sometimes I don’t even know what is real and what is fantasy. I see things, I hear things, I smell things, and I know they aren’t there. I’m a mess, Marie, and I don’t blame you for hating me.’ His voice was low. ‘But I’m still going to ask you that favour.’
Marie felt drained. The fight had gone out of her. ‘I don’t hate you. I couldn’t. What do you want?’
‘I want you to tell Jackman everything, and also Ruth Crooke. I know I’m for the high jump, so will you just allow me a few hours? Go to see them later this afternoon? Then I’ll throw up my hands and come quietly.’
Marie’s head throbbed. ‘But why?’
‘The Eva May. For the sake of the others, I want to take her out on her maiden voyage. I’ve got to make sure the tides are right, so I’ll leave Stone Quay around eleven. It won’t take long, two hours max. It’s something I really need to do. Then I swear I’ll face the consequences.’
Marie thought about that wonderful hour on the quayside. She would let him have this last break, because after that, his career would be over, and Tom Holland would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. ‘I’ll give you until two this afternoon. And, Carter? Never ever lie to me again.’
‘Thank you, Marie. For everything.’
‘I’m a fool,’ she whispered, but there was no one to hear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Carter drove onto Stone Quay at around four in the morning. He parked the Land Rover close to where the Eva May bobbed proudly in the water.
The silence was overwhelming.
He sat without moving, watching the clouds scud over the river.
For once, the voices were silent.
He got out of the vehicle and stood for a moment in the familiar spot, listening to the birds call and the river lap against the Eva May’s hull.
He turned and saw Silas walking towards him, Klink ambling close to his heels. He had a flat package under his arm.
‘So it’s today, is it, young’un?’
Carter nodded.
‘Then I guess you’ll be wantin’ a bit o’ company?’
Carter drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. ‘No, Silas, not this time. But I am going to ask you to do something for me, and I swear it will be the last time I do.’ He rubbed his hand through his windblown hair. ‘This favour. It’s not exactly above board.’
The old man gave a snort. ‘Since when have I cared a jot about that?’
Carter smiled. ‘I know, you old rogue, but still, it goes against the grain to ask you.’
‘Then don’t ask. But you know I’ll help you, no matter what.’
‘Remember the old Causley Eau pumping station?’
‘Aye, on the Saltern Drain. Been falling to bits for years since they stopped usin’ it.’ Silas thought for a while. ‘They say it’s dangerous, so no one goes there anymore.’
‘I know.’
‘Then we better get off, hadn’t we? I’m supposing you want to be back to catch the tide?’
Carter opened up the side door of the Land Rover, and called to Klink. ‘In you get, lad.’
‘Boot’s good enough for him, grubby little tyke.’
Carter shook his head. ‘Not this time. I need the space.’
Silas shrugged. He slid the flat, badly wrapped package behind the passenger seat.
They drove for a few minutes, then turned down a slip road and bumped along the drain edge for about a quarter of a mile.
The old pumping station had been empty for years. The steam engine that had helped feed water from the reclaimed saltmarsh fields had been moved off to a museum, and now a new station did all the pumping and drainage.
Carter backed up the Land Rover close to the building and got out. He produced a key from his pocket and opened the padlocked doors.
Klink refused to get out, even when Silas ordered him to. Carter decided that he was better off where he was, so they left the dog in the vehicle.
With Silas a few steps behind him, Carter walked slowly and deliberately towards the back of the building, where he used a second key to open a small storeroom. If Silas was shocked by the smell, he didn’t show it. And Carter made no comment.
The bundle was tightly wrapped in layers of extra thick black plastic sheeting, taped tightly with gaffer tape, and carefully concealed behind some old rotting wooden shelving units.
Between them they half dragged and half carried the cumbersome bundle to the Land Rover. Carter opened up the back and they pushed it into the boot.
Klink gave a low growl. Silas spoke to him quietly, but his hackles were raised.
They said nothing on the trip back to Stone Quay, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Carter felt like a boy again, back where he ought to be, sitting next to Silas Breeze, the only man he really trusted.
It took them no time at all to get Suzanne’s body off the quay and into the Eva May. He tried hard not to imagine what she looked like after eighteen months, but he had seen too many rotting corpses in his time on the force not to know. Even so, he felt no compassion for her. She had been a cruel, heartless bitch. Whenever things didn’t go exactly her way, she turned on Tom. She physically battered and abused him, and the gentle giant never raised a hand or said a word against her.
‘Tide’s about right, young’un.’ Silas was making his way slowly down the ladder from the quay.
‘Go back, Silas. I have to do this alone. For my fourth friend. For Tom.’
‘Go back up and fetch Klink, would you?’
Carter frowned.
‘Go get my dog . . . please?’
‘Oh Silas, no . . .’
‘He bit a kid last night, boy. There’ll be a knock on my door later today, and we don’t want to be there when they come for him.’
Carter felt a lump in his throat. He climbed back up the ladder and carefully lifted the old dog down into the Eva May.
Silas nodded. ‘Everything in order?’
‘Shipshape and Bristol fashion, Cap’n.’ He saluted smartly.
‘I don’t mean the boat.’
‘Nor do I.’
With a long look at his two unexpected crew members, Carter started the engine.
‘Sweet as a nut,’ Silas crooned. ‘That lad knew his engines, didn’t he?’
Carter turned the Eva May out into the river and felt the wind tug at his hair. Oh, it felt so good! He breathed in the salty ozone and let out a whoop of delight. ‘We’ve done it, Si! The Eva May is back where she belongs!’
‘Should be horns and sirens and bunting! An escort out into the Wash!’ Silas’s old eyes sparkled.
‘Then raise the flag, old timer, and let’s drink a toast to the Eva May and the men who put her back together again.’ He pulled a bottle from under one of the seats and passed it to Silas. ‘Will this do you?’
‘Single Highland malt! Twenty-five years old — and a Speyside. That would have made a big hole in your pocket, boy. Three figures?’
‘It’s a special occasion. And as we are underway, the Ensign is waiting to be attached.’ He grinned at Silas, ‘And I’ve not brought metal clips either.’
Silas happily launched into a speech about flag etiquette and halyards, and Carter felt a rush of affection for him. He was glad after all that his oldest friend and his crazy dog were with him.
They poured the whisky into plastic tumblers and drank toast after toast. They did not drink to Suzanne Holland.
‘I’ve been thinking for a while about making a will.’ Silas suddenly became serious.
Carter stared at him. He thought of the ramshackle hovel of a cottage and its contents, and began to laugh.
‘Tek the proverbial, if you will, but there’s “The Poacher” to consider.’
Carter stopped laughing, and considered what the old man was asking of him. ‘Ah, right.’ He took out his mobile phone, sent a brief text message and switched it off. ‘Sorted.’ He then looked long and hard at his old friend. ‘Why are you here, Si?’
‘Saw the doc last week, not that I got too much faith in them and their new-fangled machines. Still, there weren’t much point arguing with the results of my tests.’ He shrugged and sipped his drink. ‘A trip on the Eva May is my whole bucket list rolled into one.’ He looked around contentedly. ‘And we picked a great day for it, didn’t we?’
The only sounds were the thrum of the engine and the occasional call of a water bird. Around them, the water, the marshes and the big Lincolnshire sky. Carter breathed again. He was free of enclosed spaces, the smell of burning. And there were no voices other than his own, and that of Silas.
‘He killed her, didn’t he? Your friend Tom?’ He looked intently at Carter, and then his eyes narrowed. ‘Or did he?’
Carter sipped his whisky. He saw everything clearly now. All along, his night-time chats with the boys had been nothing but memories, old conversations and old secrets. His “dead” friends had told him nothing that he didn’t already know. And that included what had happened to Suzanne.
‘He’d finally found the courage to walk out on her. Then, after a while she rang him, and said she wanted him to go back. She said she loved him. He was going to go, but Ray stopped him, and then it all came out. He broke down and told Ray everything, all the things she’d done and the terrible ordeals she’d put him through. He was distraught. Ray called me, but I was on a stakeout and didn’t get the message. So he rang Jack and Matt and they decided to go and confront Suzanne.’ Carter sighed. ‘They found another man there. She had set it up so that Tom would walk in and find them, then she would tell him that he was such a loser she’d had to go out and find a real man. The guy did a runner, so she tried it on with Jack. He was utterly disgusted and pushed her away, roughly. She fell heavily and hit her head on the stone mantelpiece above the fireplace.’ Carter pointed to their drinks, and the old man poured readily.
‘When they realised she was dead, Ray, Jack and Matt panicked. They did everything wrong.’
‘And the daft buggers made it look like murder?’ Silas asked.
‘They didn’t call an ambulance. They didn’t even dial 999. And they tampered with the scene.’
Silas shook his head. ‘Surely if they’d just . . .’
‘I know, I know. Then Ray finally saw sense. When I got off duty he called me and told me things I’d never known about Tom’s beautiful wife. She told people that Tom hit her, that he cheated on her and even stole from her.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘When in reality it was all the other way around.’
‘And Tom couldn’t have proved otherwise?’
‘No. She was far too cunning for my lovely brainwashed mate, Tom.’ Carter took a long drink of his malt. ‘So I told Ray to tell the others to get out without being seen, and I raced over there and helped Ray. I used all my copper’s know-how to make it look like she had been attacked and abducted.’
Silas looked at him. ‘Wasn’t there blood?’
‘Oh yes, a lot, but there was no use touching it. No matter how hard you try to get rid of it you always leave traces that luminol will pick up. Better to let it look like a violent attack.’ He lifted his glass in the direction of the black plastic bundle, now bound round with lengths of weighty chains. ‘Then I brought her down here while I decided where to hide her. Luckily no one knew that she had had visitors that night. Their cottage had no near neighbours and there was no CCTV for miles. Even so, I put on a ponytail wig and glasses. We had worn them once, a piss-take of Suzanne’s pervert of a brother. I reckoned if anyone saw me while I was there, they would think I was him. I didn’t know until this week that Ray and I had been seen by a dog walker.’ He stared into his drink. ‘I got all the guys together and we worked out watertight alibis, and finally, to make it all seem really kosher, we decided to carry on with the arranged stag trip to Amsterdam. Tom never knew a thing about what happened. Suzanne’s blood wasn’t discovered for several days, and by that time they were all dead.’
Silas grunted, took another mouthful of whisky and fondled his dog’s ears. ‘I’m guessing Tom was never suspected, even though she had been spreading lies about him.’
‘It turned out that very few people believed a word she said. Most thought she was someone it was best not to get involved with. No, Tom Holland was never a suspect. Until now. Things have taken a turn for the worse, Si, and I’ve had to sort it out, once and for all.’
‘Life. I’ll never fathom it, young’un.’
‘Me neither.’
‘But, it’s a lovely morning to be going to sea with good friends.’ Silas bent down and drew his dog a little closer to him.
‘That it is.’
* * *
‘Run that past me again, Sam. Now that I’m awake.’ Laura sat up in bed and ran a hand through her sleep tousled hair.
Sam started again, this time more slowly. ‘We’ve been looking at Carter McLean’s problem all wrong. We’ve assumed that what he told us about his friends manifesting themselves, and then him experiencing the terrible smell of burning flesh, was correct. But that’s incorrect.’
‘But he swears that’s the case.’
‘He’s wrong. He gets the smell of burning first, and then the imaginary friends appear.’
Laura scratched her head. ‘There’s a difference?’
‘Phantosmia.’
Laura frowned and dredged up some of her medical knowledge, ‘Olfactory hallucinations?’
‘Phantom smells. Smelling something that isn’t there. Do you have his medical record with you?’
‘In the office, yes. I have it in a secure file.’
‘Go down and check something for me, will you? It’s important.’
Laura pulled on a dressing gown, grabbed the office door key and ran downstairs. She had never heard Sam so intense.
‘Okay, it’s accessing it now, what do you want to know?’
‘After the accident, what does it say in his injury assessment?’
Laura scrolled back to the first report. ‘He sustained a fracture to the right humerus at the surgical neck. Three broken ribs and a hairline crack to the sternum. This was attributed to the crash itself. Then there were minor topical burns, temporary deafness and concussion, all sustained from the blast when the plane exploded.’
Sam groaned. ‘That’s what I wanted to hear, Laura. Concussion. And what causes olfactory hallucinations?’
‘Tumours, epilepsy . . . oh, brain damage.’ She let out a long sigh. ‘This isn’t simply post-traumatic stress at all, or panic attacks. He has suffered a brain trauma.’
‘Or maybe a tumour that has manifested itself since the accident. He’s not suffering a psychological reaction at all. He has a very real, physical symptom of a brain injury.’
Laura was horrified. ‘I’ve been treating him for the wrong thing! And I never saw the truth. What have I done?’
‘Don’t worry, Laura. If I’m right, and we have no proof yet, his psychological condition masked his illness. What we need to do now is tell him.’
Laura ended the call, found Carter’s home number but got the answerphone. ‘Carter, it’s Laura. I have to speak to you, it’s urgent. Ring me as soon as you get this.’
She tried his mobile, but it was switched off. She had never felt so frustrated. Wait! Marie! He could be with her, or she might know where he was.
Marie answered on the second ring, and in a rush Laura told her what Sam had said.
There was a long pause, and then Marie said, ‘He’s taking the Eva May out later this morning for her maiden voyage. We might be able to catch him before he sets off. Shall I come and get you?’
‘Yes, please, Marie, and hurry. I need to tell him this. It will make such a difference to his life.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘When did you say he was going?’
‘Elevenish, I think.’
‘No, that can’t be right. He’ll need the high tide to get over the sand bars and out into the Wash. High tide is just about now.’
‘I’m on my way.’
* * *
Marie had the blue light flashing all the way to Stone Quay. Beside her, Laura drummed her fingers on her knees.
They jumped from the car and ran over to Carter’s Land Rover, parked next to the empty stand that had once supported the Eva May. The engine was cold.
Marie’s heart sank. She turned to Laura. ‘She’s gone! The Eva May! He’s already taken her out. Laura, he lied to me for a reason — about the tides I mean. He didn’t want me here. And he told me things. What he told me means he will lose his job, the job he lives for!’
Laura bit her lip. ‘Then he’ll have nothing left at all. We have to catch him.’
Marie stared down the river towards the estuary, but the expanse of water was a ribbon of steel. Unmoving. And there was no boat in sight. She took a deep breath and ran back to the car. ‘If we go back to the main road and take the Wash lanes to Arun Point, we can see where the river joins the Wash. We might be able to get ahead of him.’
The two women sat in silence. Marie concentrated on driving as fast as she dared along the narrow winding lanes.
When they reached the Point, Marie brought the car to a screaming halt and grabbed a pair of binoculars from the back seat. She and Laura hurried from the car park and up the steep sea bank, to where they could look out across the grey waters of the Wash.
‘There!’ Laura pointed.
Marie trained her glasses on the small vessel. Yes! It was Carter! She grabbed her mobile and rang him again, but it went straight to voice mail.
Laura was waving frantically. ‘What about the coastguard?’
‘And tell them what?’ Marie groaned.
‘I don’t know, but surely . . .’
Looking again through the binoculars, Marie realised that Carter was not alone on the Eva May. Another figure sat close to him. ‘Crazy Silas?’ she whispered, ‘And his dog?’
Suddenly hope coursed through her.
Carter had taken Silas with him for the rebuilt lifeboat’s maiden voyage! He’d wanted it that way, but rather than upset her again, he left early. No more than that! They had caught the early tide and were celebrating together. She said as much to Laura, then exhaled. ‘Of course he didn’t want anyone else along! This is a very personal thing, to mark his friends passing. And Silas looked out for him when he was a little boy and when his mother died, so they’ve made this trip together.’ Her smile widened. ‘He’s letting them go. At last, he’s letting his dead friends go!’