by Rhys Bowen
By the time they reached the foyer, Annabel had come downstairs again, this time in her purple velour tracksuit, and both Michael and a portly man Evan hadn’t seen before were there, the latter looking decidedly grumpy.
“I know you believe in this psychic stuff, Annabel dear,” the man was saying, “but couldn’t it wait at least until dawn. Couldn’t we send someone out on a preliminary recky? Michael could go with the young woman for you.”
“I want to be there myself,” Annabel said. “He’s my husband. I want to rescue him.”
“But why the caves? What on earth would he have been doing there?”
“I suppose he might have been meditating in a cave. He chose the most unlikely places to meditate,” Annabel said, as if the idea had just struck her. “He told me once he picked up incredible vibes in caves. I had completely forgotten we had those caves on the property. I’ve no idea how Randy found out about them.” She took the offered cup of tea. “You are a gem, Mrs. Roberts.”
“I do my best, Miss Annabel,” Mrs. Roberts said gruffly.
Evan drained his own cup gratefully.
“If you want to get to the caves, we should be going then,” Michael said. “We might not be able to reach them if the tide’s in.”
“It’s not.” Mrs. Roberts said. “Low tide at six, isn’t it? You’ll be able to get around all right.”
It was a silent procession that made its way down the many steps, past the meditation center. The copper pyramid seemed to shiver with an energy of its own and the sandy estuary below glowed ghostly gray in the dying moon. The tide was still far out and water channels made streaks of silver across the sand. Michael led with a large torch. Annabel and Betsy were right behind him, then Emmy and Ben, whoever he was, with Evan bringing up the rear. Down the last steps onto the sand. It was fine and soft and squeaked under their feet, making walking difficult. As they passed the last of the buildings, looming like a great black shadow perched above them, Evan saw that the land rose into a headland at the end of the bay. There was a line of dark cliffs on their right, and the sand on the beach was dotted with large rocks and rock pools, around which they had to skirt.
“There.” Michael shone the torch on the cliff face. Just before the rocky headland were two black slits in the cliff face. One of them was almost down at beach level, one a little higher.
“My father always maintained that smugglers used to use them,” Lady Annabel said. “I thought there ought to be a secret passage to one of the buildings. But I never found it.”
“Are these the caves you saw in your dream, Betsy?” Emmy asked.
“I don’t know,” Betsy said. “I only remember being at the mouth of the cave.”
“Watch your step,” Michael said. “We have to sort of scramble here. Are you all right, Mother?”
“I’ll manage,” Annabel said. “You go ahead with the torch. I think I’ll wait down here until you find …” She shuddered. “Oh, I hope he’s there. I hope he’s all right. He might have fallen and injured himself and not have been able to walk. That’s probably what happened, don’t you think? And he had to seek shelter in the cave … .”
Michael had begun to scramble up the boulders that formed a ramp to the caves. Evan went to join him. “Here, let me.” He took the torch so that the boy could use two hands to find his way up. “There must be a huge tide here,” Evan said. “These rocks are quite slippery even up here.”
“There is a big tide,” Michael said. “The lower of these caves is almost flooded at high tide.”
“So someone could be trapped in there.”
“And the upper one too,” Michael said. “You can’t climb up the cliff right here and your way back along the beach would be cut off at high tide. You’d just have to find a spot to sit it out. Of course, the upper cave stays pretty dry.”
Evan didn’t add that there had been at least a couple of low tides since Randy went missing when anyone could have reached safety again.
Betsy and Emmy scrambled up to join Evan and Michael.
“Come on, Betsy.” Emmy held out her hand. “I’ll go in with you, so that you’re not too spooked.” She went to drag Betsy to the upper cave.
Betsy froze. “No, not that one. The other.”
“Surely not.” Emmy gave a nervous laugh. “Why would anyone want to go into that cave? If he was hiding out with a broken ankle, he’d go up to the dry one, wouldn’t he? Come up to the entrance and see what vibes you’re feeling.”
“It’s this one.” Betsy stood before the entrance to the sea cave. It was a narrow, diagonal slit in the rock, not quite as high as a person, and the opening was piled with seaweed-covered rocks. Betsy started clambering over them, slithering and sliding as she tried to make her way inside.
“I’m sure you’ve got it wrong, Betsy,” Emmy called after her. “Do wait a minute. Wait for the light.”
“He’s in here, I know it,” Betsy said. “Look. There.” Evan had climbed down to her and shone the torch into the cave. Inside, the cave widened out, but the debris-strewn floor rose upward to meet the roof at the rear of the cave. The light cast grotesque shadows from rocky outcrops. The back of the cave was strewn with boulders and behind one of these they could make out a pale hand and blond hair.
Betsy was shivering again. “It’s him, isn’t it? Is he trapped? Is he okay?”
Evan had pushed past her to where Randy lay. He didn’t need to feel for a pulse to know that the man was dead. He looked up at the horrified faces, all of them like white death masks in the torchlight.
“I’m afraid we’re too late … .”
Annabel let out a wail and Emmy hurled herself forward. “No, that can’t be right. He’s not dead. He can’t be dead!”
Chapter 12
The first streaks of cold dawn were silhouetting the mountains across the estuary when reinforcements arrived in the persons of a paramedic team, Sergeant Watkins, and D.C. Glynis Davies. Evan had sent the others back to the center, Ben and Michael supporting the hysterical Annabel, Betsy and Emmy clutching each other sobbing. Evan had decided to stay with the body until help arrived.
“Just when I thought I could sleep in for once,” Watkins muttered as Evan scrambled over the rocks to meet him. “Do you know I had to be at those training sessions in Colwyn Bay at eight in the morning? Today I thought I wouldn’t have to show up until nine and what happens? I get called out at bloody four-thirty.”
“You got an hour’s more sleep than I did,” Evan said, returning Glynis’s friendly smile.
“I bet you didn’t expect we’d be back here again so soon, and on a completely different matter too, did you?” Glynis accepted his hand to help her up onto a large, seaweed-draped boulder. “How very bizarre. Did you say you found him?”
“I was in the party that found him,” Evan said. “We came to this cave because young Betsy from our village dreamed he was here.”
“Wow, and it turned out to be true.” Glynis looked impressed.
“Looks that way,” Evan said. He switched on the torch he had kept with him. “The body’s in this cave, Sarge.”
Sergeant Watkins ducked as he followed Evan into the cave. “Been dead long, do you think?”
“I can’t say. I’d imagine the body has been covered with water more than once.”
“So it might have been washed in from the outside?”
“I wouldn’t think so. The opening’s too narrow for one thing and I don’t see how the waves would have been strong enough.”
“Then what the devil was he doing in a place like this? Not exactly where you’d come for comfort, is it?” Watkins shivered.
“His wife says he liked to meditate in these caves, but there’s a perfectly good large dry cave a little higher up. I can’t imagine anyone choosing to meditate in here.”
The torch shone down on Randy Wunderlich’s body. The golden hair was plastered around his face and encrusted with sand. Evan shivered. He still wasn’t able to handle death casually. Neithe
r, it appeared, was Sergeant Watkins.
“Poor bugger,” he said. “What a stupid thing to happen. Here—hold on a mo—” This to the paramedics who were now also trying to get to the body. “I don’t want him touched until we’ve got the police doctor and photographer here. There’s nothing you boys can do anyway. He’s long gone.” He took out his mobile phone. “I’ll just go outside and report to HQ. You boys can come with me and put your own call in.”
“It’s very odd, isn’t it?” Glynis asked when she and Evan were alone in the cave. Of the three she seemed the least affected, climbing over the body to view it from behind. “An odd way to die, I mean.”
“Just a minute, Constable.” Sergeant Watkins reappeared. “Don’t go trampling on any potential evidence.”
“You don’t suspect foul play, do you?” Glynis looked surprised.
“Always suspect foul play until it’s ruled out, and then you don’t get into trouble with your chief,” Watkins said, giving Evan a knowing grin. “Not that it matters much here. The tide’s been over all this at least once.”
“He must have drowned, obviously,” Glynis said, peering down at the body. “But the question is why?”
“Trapped by the tide while he was meditating?” Watkins suggested.
“You’d have to be in a pretty deep trance not to notice cold water coming all over you, wouldn’t you?” Glynis said. “And even then, he’d have tried to force his way out through the waves. It hasn’t been stormy recently, so I can’t think the waves would have been too strong for him.”
Evan had been examining the body. “Hey, look here, Sarge. There’s a makeshift bandage around his ankle.” One foot was bare and someone had tried to bind up the ankle using a sock and a handkerchief. “That might be it. He might have slipped and sprained an ankle. Perhaps he couldn’t get past the waves if he couldn’t stand properly.”
Watkins nodded. “I suppose it’s possible that he passed out with the pain at the wrong moment—just as the water was coming in.”
“And drowned, you mean?” Evan shook his head. “I don’t think so. I passed out with pain once when I separated my shoulder playing rugby. Someone threw cold water over me and it woke me up pretty damned quick.”
Glynis was down on her hands and knees. “There are plenty of loose rocks in here. Do you think his foot got trapped under one of them?”
“How could he have bound up his ankle if it was under a bloody great rock?” Watkins asked, grinning at Evan.
“I don’t know. Maybe a rock rolled onto his foot, and then the waves rolled it off again.”
“While he was lying there unconscious? Then he woke up long enough to bind his ankle only to pass out again and drown?” Watkins finished for her.
“You’re right. It doesn’t make sense,” Glynis said, laughing with them. “What does the brilliant Constable Evans have to say about it?” She turned to Evan. “You’re the one who solves the really tricky cases.”
“Only by luck,” Evan said. “I’m as stumped as you are. Even if I’d got a broken ankle, I’m pretty sure I’d manage to fight my way out of a cave rather than stay there and be drowned.”
“Perhaps he couldn’t swim,” Glynis suggested. “Perhaps he had a water phobia.”
“There’s one possibility we haven’t considered,” Watkins said. “Maybe he didn’t want to get out.”
“Suicide you mean?” Evan asked. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think so. If ever there was a man who was full of himself, it was Randy Wunderlich. He thought he was God’s gift.”
“Anyway, Dr. Owens will be here soon. Young Dawson can take his photographs and then we can have the body removed and go and have a decent breakfast.” Watkins frowned at Evan as he spoke. “You look frozen to the marrow.”
“I am Funny, because I don’t often feel the cold. There’s something about this place that’s giving me the creeps.”
Glynis nodded. “It is creepy in here. Do you think he was dabbling in something like witchcraft or black magic?”
“No more speculation, Constable Davies,” Watkins said firmly, helping her out of the cave. “Wait until we’ve got the pathologist’s report, then we’ll know what we’re talking about. Ten to one it will be very simple. We’ll probably find he had a heart attack and dropped down dead.”
“Ah, then the lungs wouldn’t have any water in them. I know that much,” Glynis said, grinning at Evan. “Look, the sun’s up. It’s going to be a nice day again.”
It was a solemn tableau that greeted Evan and the two detectives as they came into the well-appointed lounge with its comfortable armchairs and sofas in muted pastels. Mrs. Roberts, still in her sensible dressing gown, was sitting straight backed and grim beside another tea tray. Annabel, red eyed and disheveled, was sitting on the sofa beside the large paunchy man she had called Ben, while Michael perched protectively on the sofa arm beside her. Betsy was on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, while Emmy was sitting up straight, staring at the ceiling. They all looked up at the sound of approaching feet.
“Dr. Owens, the home office pathologist, and an incident team from police headquarters are down at the cave right now, Mrs. Wunderlich,” Watkins said.
Evan started at the use of this name. Watkins was correct, of course. She had been married to Randy Wunderlich, but nobody had ever called her anything other than Lady Annabel.
“Your husband’s body will be taken for autopsy,” Watkins stated.
“I don’t want him cut open.” Annabel started to wail again. “I don’t want that beautiful body spoiled in any way.”
“I’m afraid there’s no choice when the cause of death isn’t obvious.” He looked around at the group. “Now, if I could just ask you a few questions. We need to establish when he was last seen.”
Glynis had taken out a notebook and pen and was standing looking efficient. Evan stood in the doorway, feeling superfluous.
“Right. Mrs. Wunderlich,” There was a definite intake of breath from Mrs. Roberts this time. “When was it you first noticed that your husband was missing?”
“The day before yesterday. Two guests had arrived. We normally welcome guests at a private cocktail party before dinner. My husband didn’t show up. I sent Michael to look for him and to remind him. He could be a little absentminded, especially when he—when his psychic receptors were open, as he put it.”
“But I-I couldn’t find him anywhere,” Michael said.
“So I sent Michael to see if his car was gone from its parking space,” Annabel continued.
“But it was still there,” Michael finished.
“Which meant that he couldn’t have left the premises?” Watkins asked.
“He could have gone for a walk,” Annabel said. “He often went for walks.”
“And what happened then?”
“When he didn’t turn up all evening, I became very angry and frightened. I thought of calling the police that night, but I was told it was too early. And I was sure he’d call. I was sure he must have had a good reason—” She broke off and put her handkerchief to her mouth. Then she controlled herself again. “In the morning I had Michael and some of the young people who work here search the grounds, in case something had happened to him, but they found nothing.”
“But you didn’t think of looking in those caves?” Watkins turned to Michael.
“No. It never crossed my mind. Actually, I’d forgotten all about them. N-nobody ever goes near them. We advise people to use only the beach directly in front of the swimming pool, because it’s so easy to be cut off by the tides and those caves are under water half the time. I’m surprised Randy even knew they existed. You can’t see them from the beachfront.”
“Lady Annabel mentioned that he used to meditate in the caves, I believe,” Evan said.
Annabel nodded. “He said he picked up amazing vibrations.”
“Let’s back up,” Watkins said. “Let’s go back to the day he didn’t show up for cocktails. When was the last time he was s
een?”
“We had lunch together,” Annabel said. “After lunch I usually take a little rest. I don’t know where Randy went after that. You’d have to ask the staff.”
“How many staff work here?” Watkins asked.
Lady Annabel fluttered her hands again. “We have a full-time masseur, and a team of experts in the healing arts on call, so the number would vary from day to day. Sometimes it’s the Reiki therapist, sometimes the acupuncturist or the bio energy balancer … .”
A lot of people to pay when guests are almost nonexistent, Evan thought.
“And then there’s the domestic staff. I’m not exactly sure how many of those we have at the moment. You’d have to ask Mrs. Roberts. She’s the housekeeper.”
“Let’s see,” Mrs. Roberts said. “At the moment there’s the chef and the two kitchen helpers. Bethan helps me with the housekeeping. Then we have the maintenance man and the two grounds-keepers and security. That would be it. Oh, and the new girl, Betsy here.”
Watkins looked at Betsy with interest. “You were the one who dreamed where Mr. Wunderlich was?”
Betsy nodded.
“Have you worked here long?”
“No, I just started a couple of days ago. The day before Randy—Mr. Wunderlich—was missing.”
“Did you now?”
Evan noticed the glance that passed between Watkins and Glynis. He was just beginning to realize that the sequence of events must look suspicious.
“Well, yes,” Betsy said, blushing bright red. “Miss Court, the American lady here, she brought me down to the Sacred Grove center so that Mr. Wunderlich could test my psychic abilities and Harry, my old boss at the pub, wouldn’t give me time off, miserable old sod that he is, so Miss Court said she’d ask if they could give me a job at the center so I could be right on the spot when Mr. Wunderlich wanted to work with me.”
“I see,” Watkins looked at her for a long moment, then turned back to Lady Annabel.