As they rested afterwards, she caught sight of an adder slithering in to join them. With a scream of terror, she ran out of the look-out post, stark naked. Thank goodness so few people frequented Drigg dunes. Nigel pulled on his pants and padded after her, laughing until the tears ran down his face.
‘Would you believe it?’ he’d said. ‘A serpent in Eden.’
‘It’s not funny. Adders are poisonous.’
‘It didn’t bite you.’
She looked at the red mark on her tiny left breast. ‘Not like you.’
‘Badge of honour. It’ll make a nice bruise, sort of a souvenir. Come on, let’s have a skinny dip.’
So vivid was that scene in her mind, it might have been yesterday. No adders were sliding around today, at least none she could see. She strolled out on to the sand, watching the black-headed gulls swoop over the dunes. Thank goodness her first time had been somewhere special. There was history here – settlers had come thousands of years before the Romans – as well as romance. When people spoke about Drigg, they often grimaced, although it was home to a nature reserve and a site of special scientific interest, but in her mind it was romantic, with the waves lapping against the sand, and the sun peeping through the clouds. Never mind the snakes, and the high wire fence that separated the lonely shore road from the low level nuclear waste repository. That evening at Drigg, she’d experienced an intensity of happiness unlike anything she’d known before. Or since.
‘What do you make of Anya Jovetic?’
Hannah and Maggie Eyre were having a catch-up in the briefing room. The younger woman grimaced. ‘A glamorous gold-digger with a vindictive streak and a deep distrust of the British police.’
‘You two really bonded, then?’
‘She demanded to know why we still haven’t arrested her ex-husband. I tried to explain that it was difficult without any evidence that he’d done harm to their daughter, but she wasn’t impressed. The satisfaction she showed when we agreed to review the case has vanished. Just like Lily.’
‘Nothing to implicate Elstone?’
‘Nothing. She’s just cutting up rough because of their financial arrangements post-divorce. Reckons he used his accountancy wiles to hide lots of assets. Not sure why she feels so hard done by, with her designer clothes, and an open-top sports car parked outside her detached house. She’s a busty blonde who looks like she’s stepped out of a centerfold. Her boob job and hair extensions probably cost more than I earn in six months. She gives Elstone no credit for bringing her over here in the first place, and I’d say the closest she came to true love was when he showed her his credit cards. She’s annoyed because he’s found another young woman. A Thai girl, this time. Looks like his M.O. He lacks confidence with women, so he scuttles overseas in search of attractive foreigners who want some bloke to carry them off to England.’
‘Why would Elstone hurt his own daughter?’
‘She can’t come up with a plausible reason. Apparently, he’s no great shakes in bed, but not even our Anya can point to any girl he’s ever mistreated. He doesn’t seem to have a temper. She says he was hell to live with, but that’s par for the course with most men, isn’t it?’
Hannah laughed. ‘They aren’t all hopeless.’
‘Les wasn’t best pleased when I said the same to him.’ Maggie reached into her bag. ‘Lily had a makeover shortly before she went missing. Her Dad arranged for her to have a professional photo shoot, it was something she’d mithered about for ages. She fancied herself as a model, but Anya was dead against it. If you ask me, she didn’t want the competition. She looks quite different in these photos, much more mature than in the pictures that were widely issued at the time of her disappearance.’
She tossed a couple of prints on to the table, and Hannah said, ‘I see what you mean.’
‘I thought we could publicise these shots, see if they jog any memories.’
‘Good idea.’ Hannah considered the young woman posing for the camera with a provocative half-smile. ‘Attractive girl.’
‘Doesn’t look her age, does she?’
‘No,’ Hannah said. ‘She certainly doesn’t.’
What impelled Joanna to take a detour to Lower Drigg? Curiosity, she supposed. She felt an inexplicable urge to see where Robbie Dean lived. Lower Drigg barely qualified as a hamlet, comprising of just a couple of small farms and a solitary cottage scattered along a long, winding lane that eventually looped away from the dunes, and met the shore road again near the railway station. Halfway down the lane, she spotted a van outside the only cottage in sight. She slowed down to a crawl, and saw it was Robbie Dean’s.
The old Joanna would have reversed the Polo, and driven away at top speed, but returning to Ravenglass had emboldened her. You couldn’t remain scared forever. Life was a lottery, you could never be sure what Fate had up her sleeve. You never knew. Robbie might even have spent years regretting his unkindness toward her. A flight of fancy, perhaps, but today Joanna felt lucky.
She pulled up on the verge, leaving just enough room for other vehicles to pass. Not that traffic ever built up in Lower Drigg. Tourists didn’t flock to see nuclear waste dumps, and anyone who strayed out here might be surprised that the landscape lacked a menacing blue hue. Only the high security fence and warning signs supplied clues to what was stored in those sealed vaults far below ground.
No sign of life behind the grubby net curtains. The cottage was built of grey stone, and had none of the charm of Scott Durham’s home. A couple of squat outbuildings were visible beyond the garage, and the grounds were separated from the dunes by a barbed wire fence. They were laid mostly to lawn, while rhododendrons had colonised the border. Unless something special was hidden round the back, Robbie had made no effort to advertise his talents as a gardener. Perhaps only the hardiest plants flourished so close to a subterranean stores of radioactive sludge.
‘Hello!’ she called. ‘Anybody at home?’
She heard a noise. Someone was moving behind the garage. It must be Robbie, but he wasn’t answering.
Perversely, this strengthened her resolve. She’d done nothing wrong, and he really ought to treat her with the respect she deserved. When he’d crashed his car, he might have killed her as well as Carrie.
‘Robbie? Robbie Dean?’ Still nothing. Even as a young man, he’d been antisocial. Leopards didn’t change their spots, but she decided to give it one more try. ‘You remember me, don’t you?’
Suddenly he came into her line of vision, moving with that swaggering limp she remembered so well. The long-handled shears held in his fist shone in the light. The blades were pointing at Joanna’s heart.
Desmond Loney’s reluctance to meet for a chat about the Dungeon House case equalled Cheryl’s, but Hannah had long suspected that the old goat fancied her, and in the face of a tongue-in-cheek charm offensive, his resistance crumbled.
‘Police work isn’t what it was,’ he complained. ‘The job’s all about form-filling and diversity awareness nowadays. Load of codswallop, in my humble opinion.’
There wasn’t much that was truly humble about Desmond. He was quietly spoken, but buoyed by an invincible self-esteem.
‘The bureaucracy can be a nightmare,’ Hannah agreed. ‘Like you used to say, you can’t beat …’
‘Good old-fashioned bobbying? Spot on, Hannah, I always knew you’d go far. Seen you on the telly a time or two. When we’ve been in England, that is. Pammy and I spend half the year in our holiday home in Paphos.’
Les Bryant put his head round the door. Hannah mouthed, Good old fashioned bobbying, and when he whispered, ‘Desmond Loney?’ How did you guess?
‘I’m lucky to catch you, obviously. Is tomorrow convenient, before you jet back to the sun, you lucky fellow? It will be good to catch up on your news, maybe pick your brains.’
‘I wouldn’t do it for anyone, young lady,’ Desmond Loney said with complacent magnanimity. ‘But you could always twist me around your little finger.’
The moment sh
e put down the phone, it rang again: Billie Frederick, with an update on the Shona Whiteley investigation.
‘Good news. At last, we have a credible lead. A motorist has come forward to say she was driving down the lane that runs past the Whiteleys’ house, and she caught a glimpse of a girl answering Shona’s description. She was getting into a car which was tucked away on the grass verge, under some trees.’
‘Make and description?’
‘Ever the optimist, Hannah.’ Billie sighed. ‘The witness was taking her family off on a short holiday, which is why she’s only just got in touch. Unfortunately, at the time, she wasn’t paying attention. Her mother was nattering away, and she was trying to hush her kids, who were bickering on the back seat. All she can tell us is that it was a small car. Possibly black, but she can’t be certain.’
‘Does the time of the sighting fit?’
‘Perfectly. According to Shona’s dad, she’d left the house ten minutes earlier. If this was Shona, it sounds like a pre-arranged meeting, rather than a casual pick-up.’
‘So she may have run off with a lad.’
‘Let’s hope so. If this is some romantic escapade, there’s a chance she’s safe and well.’
‘But no information about a possible boyfriend?’
‘Nothing.’ Billie sighed. ‘It’s not like a teenage girl to be so discreet. We can only pray she hasn’t got herself mixed up with whoever abducted Lily Elstone.’
In the sky above Lower Drigg, gulls were squawking. On the ground, the hands holding those wicked shears, were shaking. Robbie Dean was angry, not nervous. Joanna’s body was rigid with tension, but somehow she kept her voice calm.
‘Hello, Robbie. Is this how you greet an old friend?’
His forehead was lined, and his hair was thinning, but he remained stocky and muscular, and quite unmistakable. He was staring as if unable to believe the evidence of her eyes.
‘Joanna?’
‘How are you?’ From somewhere she found the guts to switch on a smile, and hold out her hand. It was as if she’d become another person, fearless and in command.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘Charming!’ She gave a little laugh, to show she wasn’t mortally offended. ‘I’m staying in Ravenglass. I arrived yesterday.’
‘For fuck’s sake. What for?’
‘A holiday, what else?’ Something prompted her to add, ‘It’s been utterly wonderful, revisiting old haunts. This morning I had a look around Seascale, and just now I went for a wander on the dunes.’
He seemed lost for words, so she kept talking, not for one moment taking her eyes off the cruel blades. ‘I saw poor Nigel on television, and your van was outside the house. So I realised you must work for him, just like …’
She’d meant to say, just like you worked for Malcolm. But it sounded too much like an accusation, as if bad luck followed him around. Staring at her in disbelief, he still kept a grip on the shears.
‘Won’t you put them down? For a moment, I almost thought you were going to stab me.’
She tittered, to show how absurd the very notion was. He glared, but took a step back. Opening the back of his van, he put the shears inside.
‘Can’t be too careful,’ he muttered.
Joanna wanted to yell with delight. She’d faced him down! But it still wasn’t wise to annoy him. She waved at the CCTV camera fixed under the roof of the house. ‘So I see.’
‘I keep my England schoolboy cap and the other souvenirs under lock and key. There’s a trade in football memorabilia, my stuff is worth a packet.’
‘Better than a pension,’ she said, forcing a giggle.
‘I’ll never part with them.’
Robbie Dean the sentimentalist, who would have thought it? She looked around at the empty, windswept landscape. ‘I suppose you’re not used to visitors?’
‘You can say that again.’
‘See a lot of Nigel?’
A dismissive shrug. ‘I was helping the lads to cut ivy back at the house this morning.’
‘How is he?’
‘His daughter’s missing. How do you think he is?’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …’
His brow furrowed. She could almost hear cogs turning in his brain as he tried to make sense of her unexpected reappearance. An unpleasant smile sneaked across his face.
‘The look-out post is still there, y’know.’
‘So I see.’ She gave an embarrassed laugh.
How did he know about the look-out post, and what it meant to her? Instantly, she answered her own question. Nigel must have told him. Oh God, had he boasted to his friend about getting inside her knickers? She could picture the two young men laughing at her expense as they watched a blue movie together. Back in the day, she’d have been mortified. Men were so childish about sex.
They stood in silence, staring at each other. Did Robbie see in her the girl he’d known twenty years ago? She’d blocked him out of her thoughts, just as she’d blocked out so many things. In her mind, catastrophe and Robbie Dean went hand in hand.
‘You still haven’t told me why you came here. This place isn’t on the way back to Ravenglass. It’s a detour.’
‘Yes, but … it’s good to catch up, isn’t it? Gray told me that he acts for you.’
‘Gray?’ He seemed appalled. ‘You went to see Gray fucking Elstone?’
‘I bumped into him in Seascale.’
‘Hell of a coincidence.’ He sounded like a hard-nosed cop in mid-interrogation, scornful about her so-called explanation for her movements.
‘Not really.’ She felt provoked into justifying herself. ‘How many people live around here? A couple of hundred in Ravenglass, the same in Drigg? Seascale is scarcely Brighton. It’s not surprising that I should come across a few people I used to know. I’ve met Scott Durham, too.’
He shook his head. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘Not really. A trip down memory lane, let’s call it. Long overdue, to be honest. You may have heard, my parents died, and …’
He wasn’t the sort to offer condolences about her bereavement. ‘You haven’t seen Nige?’
‘No, but … I’d like to.’
‘Why?’ He almost spat out the question.
‘Why not? He was a good friend, and I’m desperately sorry about what’s happened to his daughter.’
He peered at her, as if trying to detect some ulterior motive. ‘Is that why you’re here? To have a snoop around, and then try and find out from me about Nige?’
‘Hey, Robbie, no need for nastiness. We were … friends, remember?’
‘Friends?’
His bafflement seemed genuine. And it was true, she would never have described him as a friend. He might once have been a football star, but he never made her go weak at the knees the way Nigel did. Not before the crash, and not after it. And certainly not that night at Seascale.
‘We stuck by you after the crash.’
‘You had a fucking breakdown,’ he snapped. ‘You weren’t in any fit state to stick by anyone.’
‘You know what I mean.’ It was like being slapped on the cheek, but at least she knew what to expect from him. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. ‘I didn’t blame you for what happened, even though the car crash nearly killed me, as well as Carrie.’
‘Don’t talk about Carrie,’ he muttered.
She took no notice. ‘When we smashed into that tree, I was sure I was going to die. It was terrifying, can you wonder I was upset? But I never let you down. When the police asked me, I said everything you and Nigel wanted me to say. I’m sorry about what happened, but it wasn’t my fault.’
He took a breath. ‘Yeah. I suppose so. Yeah. Sorry.’
An apology from Robbie Dean! That had to be a collector’s item. Inwardly, she exulted. Her new-found confidence was giving her the courage to say and do things she’d never have dreamt of.
‘That’s all right. It must be a shock, seeing me here wi
thout any warning.’
‘Yeah, just a bit.’
He shifted from foot to foot, his hesitancy strangely reminiscent of Gray Elstone’s. Was he going to invite her in? She very much doubted it. It wasn’t Robbie’s style to chat over a brew. But she sensed a subtle alteration in his manner. The naked aggression had vanished, thank goodness, and he seemed unsure of himself. Had he ever truly been attracted to her? She doubted it, though with men, you could never quite be sure. Most likely, her sudden reappearance in his life had brought embarrassing memories flooding back, and he was desperate to be rid of her, but she was determined to exact a price. Given that he worked for Nigel, he could help her to make contact with the man who had loved her.
‘You asked why I want to see Nigel. I hate to think of him upset, not knowing what has happened to his girl. And his wife died. It must be so hard to cope on your own.’
‘And you … think you can help him to cope?’ He spoke slowly, as if working out the answer to a riddle.
‘I’d like to do what I can. A trouble shared, and all that. It would be lovely to see him again. It might even take his mind off Shona for a while.’
He shook his head. ‘Spoilt rotten, that kid. Proper little madam, if you ask me.’
‘Even so, she’s missing. Perhaps someone’s taken—’
‘Nobody’s holding her captive,’ he interrupted.
She stared at him curiously. ‘You think she’s run away from Nigel?’
‘What else?’
‘Like I say, the police obviously haven’t ruled out kidnapping.’
‘No ransom demand,’ he said. ‘She’s off with some man, you can bet on it.’
‘A boy? Someone from school?’
‘A man,’ he repeated. ‘She’s trouble, that one.’
She stared at him. ‘Do you know where she’s gone?’
‘No!’
The Dungeon House (Lake District Mysteries) Page 13