‘Isn’t it?’ Ricky batted her on the shoulder. For the first time in – weeks, it seemed to Toni – he was smiling. ‘Like you care, Antonia Kemp.’
‘I do care.’ Stepping out of role, Toni reached down and took hold of his forefinger.
‘Don’t be nice,’ Ricky said under his breath. He had the same expression as Freddy had when she burst into tears because Father Whatsit had been kind to her.
Toni squeezed his finger and let go. Andy was watching a man packing up frozen fish coming off a belt from the freezing tunnel. Fleetingly, Toni considered how efficiently the monster machine – the size of a small bus – might render a human corpse as stiff as a board. She jumped aside for a man wheeling a stack of blue and red crates. She’d rather underestimated the Powers’ fishery. It was an efficient and complex outfit.
‘Karen was going to sort it,’ Andy said.
‘Sort what?’ Toni had forgotten the question.
‘The dashcam.’
‘When did it break?’ Toni sensed a clue uncoiling. ‘Was the damage caused by vandals or specifically targeted?’
‘Karen broke it, she said it was by accident— Keep those prawns back, Chris, I’ve got a woman coming in for them later.’ Andy broke off to shout across to a man arranging stock for freezing. He got a thumbs-up sign.
‘Did you doubt it was an accident?’ Toni asked.
‘What? No, I’m sure it was.’ Andy appeared careless, but Toni wasn’t convinced. She knew Andy liked his gadgets. Had Karen disliked being, effectively, monitored by her boss? A reminder that she was only a cog in the Powers’ wheel.
‘Andy said you have Daniel for it,’ Ricky said. ‘That’s crazy, you do know that, don’t you? He couldn’t murder his own mother.’
‘It’s too early to close off possibilities. It’s an option, that’s all.’ When I tell you how to trawl you can run a murder case for me. Toni’s burst of love for Ricky dissolved. The personal connections in this case were starting to hem her in. Maybe the Chief Super had been right and she should give it to Malcolm.
‘Ask me, Dan walked in on Karen with her man and went ape. Think if that was us.’ Andy returned to the market hall and began sluicing water over the bloodied tiles from a hose in the corner. Toni guessed Andy’s hands-on mentality – Ricky said Andy worked all hours – was why the fishery was so successful. She suspected Ricky was raking it in, but to hear him, he was nudging bankruptcy.
‘Karen didn’t have a boyfriend,’ Ricky said.
‘How do you know?’ Toni retorted. Shit.
‘Says who?’ Andy swished a mop at their feet. The searing smell of disinfectant blotted out the stench of raw fish. Toni disliked fish, raw or cooked. Not great if your boyfriend was a fisherman. ‘Karen kept it private; she didn’t need Tom Tyler getting wind. He’d jump at the chance to stop forking out for Danny.’
Karen had obviously confided in Andy. Freddy Power used to say her brother could get an oyster to give up its pearl, unlike their father, Fred Power, who would have smashed the shell. Criticism of Fred Power was off limits for Ricky; he worshipped his dad and blamed Freddy for his death. Now he had Reenie’s death to contend with. He’d said it made him feel ‘wobbly, like the flu’. And then he had gone out on the boat.
‘All right, love? Are we friends?’ Toni asked him once Andy and his mop were safely on the other side of the room.
‘Of course. I’m back on the boat for three nights, did Andy say?’ Ricky spoke as if the decision was out of his hands.
‘No, he didn’t. Do you think that’s a good idea?’ She kept her temper.
‘Got to meet targets.’ A year ago, if anyone had suggested she’d have a relationship with a man who risked his life so Mrs Smith got her bass fillet, Toni would have told them where to shove it. It was safer being a copper. Trouble was, Ricky was too damned attractive. Not just that, he was a decent bloke.
‘Danny hated blood. No way could he kill,’ Ricky said.
‘There was no blood – she was strangled – and anyway, like I said, it’s one avenue of possibility. Daniel Tyler was a fisherman. He killed thousands of fish every trip. Like you.’ Toni lost it.
‘That’s different. Danny said fish die so we can live. He was a natural, he was practically born with sea-legs. He did what I asked, he knew what needed doing. So, he hated the gutting, he never got used to it, even when he got to be a master at it. We would get through a haul in record time, fastest deckhand I’ve ever had.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Toni had been irritated by Ricky going on about his apprentice, but the description of Danny Tyler hating blood and guts was out of kilter with a kid strangling his mum. Or not? Strangling was clean. It was also an intimate way to kill. Up close to his mum, Danny would have had time to change his mind.
‘If I get my hands on who killed Karen and Dan, I’ll—’ Ricky scratched his unshaven cheek.
‘Leave it to us,’ Toni said. ‘At this point Daniel Tyler’s death was an accident.’
‘You said suicide.’ Andy and his mop were back.
‘I said we have not drawn a conclusion. Andy, Ricky, please, guys, don’t go spreading rumours, it will really stuff up my investigation.’
‘Say Danny’s high, gets in and finds Karen with her kit off. He’s shocked and slams out. He snatches Karen’s keys from the hall and takes off in that spanking-new Ford. She only got it last week. She loved that car – what better revenge?’ Andy rested on the mop handle.
‘Why would Danny want revenge on Karen if he’d killed her?’ Toni pointed out.
‘That’s why you’re a detective and I’m a businessman.’ Andy tipped his cap at her. He went on with his theory. ‘Him and his girlfriend head for the beach. He floors the Ford and bang. Danny loved his mum. It’s tragic. I guess he couldn’t live with what he’d done.’
Ricky looked fit to punch Andy. ‘How would he be high? Dan didn’t drink. He was keen to make something of himself. He was a decent lad. If Karen was with a bloke, he’d have been glad for her.’ Toni believed that Danny was the little brother that Ricky, the baby of the family, never had.
‘Hey, what about CCTV? Coastwatch has a station up there,’ Andy said.
‘We’re waiting for it.’ Not true. The camera on the pier had been smashed, and the Coastwatch station’s primary purpose was looking out to sea, not at land. Unfortunately for her team, Danny had crashed by the harbour, near the lighthouse pier. The view of the Seaford-facing camera was blocked by jutting headland. Besides, it only operated in daylight. So far, all they had to go on was a dog walker’s testimony, tyre skids and the impact damage to the vehicle. Toni kept what she did know to herself. Andy was a sociable chatterbox. If he knew, Lewes golf club and every fisherman between Hastings and Southampton would be all the wiser.
Andy appeared to accept this. He wandered across to a whiteboard scrawled with the names of boats. Patricia M, Jubilee Sun, Kestrel X.
‘What’s happened to your hand?’ Toni saw Ricky worrying at a cut on his palm.
‘Caught it on a lever when I was hauling a net.’ He was dismissive. ‘She never asked for me.’
‘Who didn’t?’
‘Mum. She wanted to see Andy on his own. And Mags, but not me.’
‘She never asked for me either.’ Ludicrous response; Reenie hadn’t disguised her disapproval that Toni was with her baby boy. ‘It doesn’t mean she loved you less.’ Reenie and Fred Power had not treated their kids equally. Freddy had been the favourite until she suddenly was not. Toni’s parents had been scrupulously fair with her and her sister. Not that Andy had ever been top dog, Ricky was the golden boy. Toni decided not to remind him. It was the worst time to set up a wedge between the brothers.
‘Andy won’t tell me what Mum said.’ Ricky was glum.
‘Reenie probably tore a strip off Andy for walking his muddy football boots through the living room. You said she kept saying stuff as if you were kids and she couldn’t tell dreams from reality.’ Toni kept to herself that she was less
upset by Reenie’s passing than by the murder of Karen Munday. Whatever Karen had done to Toni when they were girls, she hadn’t deserved that death.
Watching the stiff frozen fish drop out of the tunnel onto the belt encased in plastic like a body bag, Toni vowed that, however long it took, she would find Karen’s killer.
9
MAGS
Hands clasped, Mags fixed her gaze on the body of Christ on the cross above the altar and, fingers busying through her rosary, she prayed for forgiveness.
No guidance was forthcoming.
Can we meet? Fx
Until the reply came in yesterday, Mags had been pretending that she hadn’t sent the text to Freddy. She should go to confession, but devout though Mags was, at this moment she could not forget that she would be talking to a flesh and blood man. Father Pete – she couldn’t call him Pete as he’d suggested – would know. God knew.
It was raining when Mags emerged from the church. She pulled up her hood. A figure raced up the steps. Involuntarily, thinking of Karen, Mags shielded her face against harsh words.
‘Mags, it’s me.’ Toni peered around Mags’s hood.
‘What are you doing here?’ One place Mags could be sure not to find Toni Kemp was the church.
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Toni ignored the question.
‘What was me?’ Mags knew.
‘You told Freddy about her mum.’
‘It was a mistake.’ Mags zipped up her anorak.
‘Well, good for you, whatever it was. I should have done it months ago. I was putting off telling Freddy about me and Ricky. Effing idiot.’
‘It will open old wounds.’ Mags fastened the Velcro strap under her chin, as if, cocooned, she would be safe.
‘Ricky’s furious. Another reason I said nothing. It’s so crap for Freddy. I’ll never forgive myself.’ Toni shot a look at the church, as if she might unburden herself to Father Pete.
‘Did she go to Reenie’s?’
‘Of course she did. Unfortunately, she got there too flippin’ late.’ Perhaps seeing Mags’s shocked face, Toni added, ‘She did at least see Reenie, you know, pay her respects. Job done, our Mags.’ She patted Mags’s arm. ‘The undertakers came ten minutes after Freddy left. We both know that Reenie would have sent her packing if she’d had enough breath in her body.’
‘Did Freddy tell Ricky it was me that told her?’ They did not both know that.
‘Ricky thinks it was Andy, so no.’ Toni gave a sudden laugh. ‘Same old Freddy, covering our arses. Don’t worry, if Ricky finds out Freddy lied, I’ll say it was me. He’s already cross I didn’t see Ma Power while she was conscious. He should be grateful. I’d have hastened her death if I’d gone. That, or she’d have rallied and reiterated in detail why I’m not nearly good enough for her boy.’
‘Actually, Toni, there was something I—’
Toni’s phone beeped.
‘I’ll have to go. I can’t tell you everything, but something awful’s happened.’
‘I heard a boy crashed his car.’ Mags remembered Mrs Barker in the library. She hadn’t turned on a TV or radio since Reenie died. ‘How awful for his parents.’
‘His mother was Karen.’ Toni’s face was tight.
‘Karen Munday?’ Mags went cold.
‘Yes. And it’s looking like he murdered her and then crashed his car.’ Toni ran down the church steps, raindrops bouncing off her police-issue jacket. She looked back at Mags. ‘I found her the night before Reenie died. It’s been crazy. I can’t get the image of Karen dead out my mind.’ Toni suddenly looked lost.
‘Oh goodness. How?’ Mags retreated within the shadow of the porch. She didn’t want to hear.
‘I shouldn’t say, but I can trust you. She was strangled. In her home. On the toilet.’ For a moment Mags saw that same stunned expression Toni had worn after her father was murdered.
‘Oh.’ Mags felt winded. ‘So why are people saying it’s her son?’
‘That’s not been confirmed. But he was in a car crash soon afterwards. It looks like he meant to crash.’
‘Is it OK for you to run the case? What with us being…’ Seeing Toni’s face cloud over, Mags tailed off.
‘It’s work.’ Toni pulled her collar up against the sea breeze and the police officer was back.
Beyond the masts of boats on the marina, the sea was gun-metal grey flecked with white horses. The scene, filled with light, space and lush colours on a summer’s day, was, this April afternoon, drab and bleak. Although Mags was close to a house of God, she sensed the proximity of evil.
‘Stupid way to go,’ Toni said, more to herself. She took a breath. ‘No one deserved to die like that. And, to answer your question, no, it won’t affect my judgement. Like any murder case, I work for the victim. Karen Munday is no different.’
‘I’ll light a candle.’ Mags was stunned beyond belief. ‘Two candles.’
‘She always wanted to be your friend,’ Toni remarked, as if it was hardly important.
‘I don’t know if that’s true.’ Mags flushed at the lie. Karen had been her friend and Mags had got rid of her.
The grey was lit up by a blinding flash. A second later, right over their heads, came a tremendous clap of thunder. The sky opened and rain pelted down, fat drops bounced off the car roofs and in seconds a stream raced along the gutter.
‘Bloody great. Catch you soon, Mags. I’ve got a hospital visit to make.’ Toni raked sodden hair out of her eyes and, dodging puddles on the pavement, raced towards the town centre.
As she watched her friend battle through the downpour, Mags was overtaken by amorphous grief.
She opened her phone and answered Freddy’s text.
Meet at lunette battery. 7.30pm. Mx.
Then Mags pressed delete.
For as long as she lived, Mags would regret she had not sent the message.
10
TONI
Toni hated the smell of hospitals, a miasma of antiseptic, meds and baseline fear. Her job meant she was too often in A and E attempting to get sense out of some traumatised victim or a drug-hazed perp. It was where her dad had been declared dead. Whenever she was at the county hospital, Toni caught herself wondering in which emergency room her dad had been treated.
‘We’re here to see Daisy Webb?’ She raised her badge to the young woman at the desk in the ICU. The nurse flipped up the watch on her tunic, as if that would have a bearing on her reply.
‘Can’t you lot leave her alone? She’s been through enough.’ A man, his bloated belly to the fore, barrelled towards them, his grey hair aging-rocker style, the leather jacket and jeans confirming the image. He stopped toe to toe with Toni. She caught a whiff of stale tobacco. A lace of one of his trainers was undone; it was tempting to tell him, but that would be unkind.
‘Step back, sir.’ Toni was aware of Malcolm closing in. ‘And you are?’
‘Daisy doesn’t need you barging in upsetting her. Tell them.’ The man appealed to the nurse.
‘Daisy tires easily.’ The nurse obliged.
‘I’m her uncle. Bill Webb.’ He yanked up his sleeves, exposing pale, muscled forearms. ‘We nearly lost our little girl. She’s hanging on by a thread.’ He went puce with the effort of trying not to cry.
‘Daisy is the surviving witness to a fatal vehicle crash, sir.’ Toni kept her voice level. ‘I’m afraid we do need to talk to her.’
‘You could tip her over the edge,’ Webb spluttered. Toni felt for him, but right now empathy was a hindrance. She strode past. Malcolm kept close; it wouldn’t be the first time a distraught relative had taken a swing. Toni was slight, not quite five foot one, but she’d done enough karate to toss Bill Webb face first onto the shiny floor if he cut up rough. Though that, too, would be unkind.
Toni bit the inside of her cheeks as she entered the dimmed room. It’s not Dad. It’s not Dad. Tubes, monitors, bleeps. A woman by the bed, her face ravaged by lack of sleep and torment, gazed listlessly through them from an armchair. Her finge
rs fluttered over her daughter’s bandaged hand as if she was unable to touch her and unable to leave her alone. Her varnished nails were bitten, lifeless dark hair framed a face that would have been unremarkably attractive on a happier day. Josie Webb’s every available sense was attuned to the girl in the bed.
In contrast, Daisy – hydrated and oxygenised – had colour in her cheeks. Her glossy long hair was coiled around her neck brace. Her eyes tracked them, unblinking.
‘Hello, Daisy. How are you doing?’ Toni went for official but friendly. Daisy’s gimlet stare said she didn’t suffer fools.
‘She’s just woken up.’ Josie Webb might have been talking about any teenage lie-in. ‘Can’t you come back later?’
‘I’m afraid not, Mrs Webb.’ Toni introduced herself and Malcolm. ‘Daisy may have useful information to give us about the crash.’
‘You’ve got five minutes.’ A tall black nurse in her fifties was taking Daisy’s obs. Her name badge read Annette, and her facial lines suggested she smiled more often than Toni.
‘I can’t tell you anything.’ Daisy sounded bored, as if some promised treat had fallen short. Toni hoped it was a sign she was returning to herself.
‘What do you remember? What stands out for you?’ Toni tried a different angle.
‘What else do you need?’ Josie Webb bristled. ‘That boy did it. He’s dead. You can’t punish him.’ Her tone said, had Daniel not paid the ultimate price, she would be first in line to punish him. Toni had seen the look on her own mother’s face when the police told them her dad was dead. If looks could kill.
‘Hush, Josie.’ Annette patted Mrs Webb’s arm.
‘What? Dan’s dead?’ Daisy’s hands shot up, wrenching at a cannula.
‘You’ve upset her.’ Josie Webb moved aside as Annette readjusted the tape securing the cannula. ‘Poppet, try to relax. We’ll have you out of here soon. Daddy’s on his way. Don’t be upset, poppet.’
Toni’s envy for those with dads had never lessened. Even though, as Daisy was intubated and bandaged in a hospital bed, there was little to envy her for.
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