Shadows

by Thorne Moore

  ‘I’m coming now.’

  He was waiting for me, as agreed, in Morrison’s car park, and jumped into the passenger seat quickly, shaking off the dust of the town, with angry vigour.

  ‘Stupid people!’

  ‘They’re not planning on charging you with anything?’

  ‘No. Let’s go.’

  I let him simmer. ‘I told them to look for Christian,’ he said, as I circled a roundabout. ‘Why are they so bloody determined not to listen?’

  ‘You told them to look for him?’

  ‘Of course I did.’ He stared angrily at the hedgerows. ‘He’s got to be found.’

  ‘Sylvia—’

  ‘Yes, I know, Sylvia thinks that the police must never hear his name mentioned. I might as well not have bothered. They’re convinced I just named him to divert suspicion from myself.’

  ‘They can’t seriously think you had anything to do with Hannah’s disappearance?’

  ‘God knows what they think. That I’m manufacturing methamphetamine in one of the workshops, with Christian as my distributor, and I eliminated Hannah because she threatened to expose our empire?’

  ‘That’s too preposterous. But it doesn’t matter. However stupid they are, sooner or later they’ll find Hannah and then there’ll be something real for them to work on.’

  ‘Can we wait?’ Michael thumped the dash board. ‘How long is that going to take? They can’t track her. The dogs followed her trail to the point where the blood was found, and then it stops. It doesn’t help that I let a mob loose on the scene.’

  I winced. Our students may have been trained to handle archaeological finds clinically, but the bloody bottle had been passed casually round the entire neighbourhood, before the police arrived. ‘If the police had come when we first reported her missing, it wouldn’t have happened. That’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? We stepped on their toes, by organising a search first.’

  He shrugged. ‘There was the discrepancy about time, too. I told them I went out at one. Sylvia told them it was three or four.’

  I thought, he was still out when I felt Hannah die. But Michael? Don’t be ridiculous. Absolutely out of the question. ‘Sylvia has no idea of time,’ I said.

  ‘I think she had an idea it would sound better for me. What did you say? You probably didn’t even make note of the time. I did, because I was watching the clock, so I knew it was one, but if all three of us gave different versions—’

  ‘I told them I didn’t notice anyone going anywhere.’

  ‘But you saw me go. Good God, Kate, why did you lie about it?’

  ‘I know, I know. I couldn’t bring myself to explain about our trouble with Christian.’

  ‘Kate, a girl is missing. We can’t afford – look, we both know what Christian is capable of doing. For God’s sake, this isn’t the time to prevaricate.’

  ‘I know! I’m sorry. But I just clam up, when I’m being bullied.’

  ‘Were they bullying you?’

  ‘No. Sorry. I don’t know why I did it. Instinct. Old habits die hard.’

  He was no longer listening to my pathetic excuses. ‘The girl’s been murdered, or, at the very least, abducted. Christian’s either dumped her somewhere, or he still has her.’

  ‘Yes.’ He wanted my agreement, so I gave it. I could at least do that right.

  ‘They need to look for Christian. Look for him now! Drop everything else and search for him. Kate, you’ve got to help me persuade them he’s the one they’ve got to find. Now, without any more delay!’

  I was so focussed on Michael, so violent in his insistence, that I nearly swerved into a ditch. He put a hand to the steering wheel. ‘Watch the road.’

  ‘Yes.’ I pulled myself together. ‘Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll tell them. Sylvia will understand, won’t she?’

  ‘God knows,’ he said, staring at the road ahead. ‘But there’s nothing else I can do.’

  Neither of us said more. I knew he must be replaying that scene of unbearable hurt and hatred in the drawing room, Christian sitting, burned and snarling, spitting at his mother.

  Now we’d reached the last act: Christian was a murderer.

  Chapter 22

  The sun was sinking as we turned into the drive of Llys y Garn. Sinking into grey murk, a colourless contrast to the infernal fiery sunset of the day before. Was it really only the day before?

  Sylvia was out on the drive, watching and waiting, and I geared myself up to do battle. She was going to have to report her son to the police, again.

  Her face brightened at the sight of Michael. ‘You’re back. Thank God. Everything’s so crazy. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘They’ve arrested Al and Molly and everyone at Annwfyn.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘They took them all away. Al had a bandaged hand, and it turns out he was out last night too and, oh, it’s all so ridiculous. The others were getting a bit loud, so they took them all in. Isn’t it absurd? I’m going mad! I don’t know what’s happened to the girl, I don’t know if it’s something really terrible, but if they’re going to look for someone, it must be Christian. Mustn’t it?’

  So one battle was over before it started, but another was begun. If even Sylvia could see it was Christian, how stupid could the police be? It wasn’t Al. His hand was bandaged because of the burns. He had gone out in the night to look for Kim, not yet home from Aberystwyth.

  Michael’s own encounter with the police hadn’t cowed him at all. ‘Bloody fools! I’m going to find out what’s going on.’

  I joined him in his quest, but despite the omnipresence of the police, pinning one down was next to impossible. Eventually I caught Phillips as he finished with one of the students.

  ‘Why has Al Taverner been arrested?’

  ‘Not arrested, ma’am. Just helping police with their enquiries.’

  ‘He has nothing to do with Hannah Quigley’s disappearance.’

  ‘You are quite sure of that, ma’am? You can provide him with an alibi?’

  I hesitated. ‘No, but surely you lot realise it’s Christian Callister you want to talk to?’

  ‘Indeed, ma’am, that name has been brought to our attention.’

  ‘He’s capable of anything. And probably high as a kite—’

  ‘So he was using drugs on these premises?’

  ‘Yes. Almost certainly. That’s why we threw him out.’

  ‘So his mother has said. Mrs Callister has amended her statement.’

  ‘Well then. Why have you arrested the others?’

  ‘Just making enquiries, ma’am. Looking for evidence. We still don’t know precisely what crime’s been committed. Assuming that drugs are behind this, you must be aware that Mr Taverner and his companions have a history of—’

  ‘Yes, Kim was an addict, and now she’s clean. If you test her, that will prove it.’ What made me say that? I knew that Christian had been targeting her.

  ‘We have yet to trace Miss Taverner,’ said Phillips. If Kim had been out all day, she probably knew nothing of our drama. ‘Do you have any idea where we might find her?’

  ‘None. Kim just turns up whenever she feels like it.’

  ‘I trust you will notify us if she makes contact, Mrs Lawrence. Hannah Quigley specifically linked her with Mr Callister in the matter of drugs, according to Professor Pryce-Roberts, so we are anxious to speak to her.’

  ‘Hannah said a lot of very stupid things, all utter nonsense! But did the professor also tell you what Christian said to her in return? He said “I’m going to get you in the night.” Have you got that in your notes?’

  ‘Would you say he was serious when he spoke those words?’

  I hesitated. I had dismissed it as a silly jibe at the time, but that was before he had hurtled off into the twilight, with murder in his heart, along the lane where Hannah was stumbling in her paranoid outrage. ‘I know he was deranged and violent.’

  DC Phillips sat back, folded hi
s arms and looked at me. ‘You didn’t mention this when you gave your statement earlier, Mrs Lawrence.’

  ‘No. I – I hoped he’d just driven away. My cousin has a very difficult relationship with her son and I didn’t want to be the one to accuse him. I thought it would be so blindingly obvious I wouldn’t need to. How was I to know you were going to be arresting everyone else in sight?’

  ‘Not arresting, Mrs Lawrence, just making enquiries. And don’t worry, we are looking for Mr Callister. You’ll probably not be surprised to hear the Metropolitan Police are also quite interested in his whereabouts.’

  ‘No. I’m not.’

  As I came away, I realised I’d learned virtually nothing.

  Michael was having no better luck. We pooled our efforts, attacked the phones, and charged at anyone who might be in a position to give us information. After an hour, Michael put the phone down and raised a hand at me. ‘Tenby.’

  I hung up on my stone-walling desk jockey. ‘Tenby?’

  ‘They’re all at the police station there. Being held for the night, apparently.’

  ‘Why Tenby?’

  ‘God knows. I’m going to phone the station, make sure they get a decent lawyer.’ He was already dialling.

  I waited, trying to make sense of a one-sided conversation. No, Michael couldn’t speak to Al, no, no one was charged yet or in need of medical attention, yes, note was taken of his offer to provide a lawyer.

  Michael looked as frustrated as I felt. ‘Sorry, Kate. Looks as if we’ll just have to wait till tomorrow.’

  I debated driving down to Tenby, but what would have been the point? I would be of more use at Llys y Garn. As darkness fell, I walked down to the lodge gates, with an idea I might catch Kim before she strolled in, unsuspecting, on the entire regional police force. But I could see that she wouldn’t even make it to the gates. The lane was a scene of crime, blue and white tape flapping along the hedgerows, officers and dogs still sniffing in the undergrowth and in adjoining fields.

  I glanced at the lodge. Our holidaymakers were home for the night. What were they making of all this? As I turned to face the cottage, a curtain twitched hurriedly across the window.

  At least they couldn’t complain their holiday lacked excitement.

  *

  It wasn’t quite a dawn raid. No crowbars and battering rams, but the police arrived early with dogs and vans. I hurried downstairs to find Inspector Wiles showing Michael his papers. ‘We have a warrant to search the premises, sir.’

  ‘You don’t need a warrant,’ said Michael. ‘We want the girl found, so please look. But would you mind starting off downstairs? Sylvia’s only just got to sleep. I’d rather she had another half an hour, before you start to harass her.’

  ‘Tamsin’s going to be in for a shock.’ I dragged a reluctant smile from Michael.

  ‘Not to worry, sir. We’ll be starting with the outhouses. Any locks? We wouldn’t want to have to break down doors.’

  ‘No locks. We don’t have any secrets to hide.’

  Michael was wrong. There was a padlock on the large chest freezer in one of the unused workshops. It was locked and weighed down with a crate of bottles to aid the perishing seal, but the police were immensely interested, even when it was found to contain only half a lamb, bags of damsons and a pack of butcher’s sausages.

  The dogs were hugely excited in Michael’s workshop. I thought of the stash of drugs I’d given him a few months before for safe-keeping, and I turned to him, aghast. His mind must have followed the same path; he was looking ill, but when he caught my gaze he hastily shook his head. ‘Disposed of,’ he whispered, his face creased with pain. Those bloody drugs. Why hadn’t we reported Christian back then?

  The dogs took some convincing that there was nothing to be found, as everything was taken apart, work scattered, potentially lethal tools bagged. In the end, they moved on to Sylvia’s workshop, and proceeded to dismantle her pottery, while Sylvia, unable to watch any more, shut herself in the kitchen, leaving Michael and me to bear witness.

  A young officer hurried along from the walled garden. ‘We’ve found something, sir.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘There’s a well, sir. We’ve found something in it.’

  Michael and I looked at each other, appalled, then followed into the garden. Policemen were clustered round the crumbling parapet of the well, its protective covering hurled aside. Alsatians were straining at the leash.

  ‘Oh good God, she’s not in there, is she?’ Michael asked.

  A policeman shooed us back. ‘Please return to the house, sir, madam.’

  ‘You can’t have found her there,’ I blurted. It was impossible. Unless someone had dropped her down it since I’d peered into it. Someone else on the property, with a vehicle, with access to the well where the builders worked. No, it wasn’t possible.

  ‘Come on, they’re not going to give us an answer, Kate.’ Michael drew me along, back to the house. He was swearing under his breath in frustration, while I walked in a daze. It couldn’t be her.

  Sylvia, whisky in hand, was waiting for us. ‘What’s happening? Has anything happened?’

  ‘The police seem to think there’s something in the well,’ explained Michael. ‘We don’t know—’

  ‘Oh no!’ Sylvia’s jaw dropped. Her eyes widened, her free hand flew to her mouth.

  ‘Now it’s all right,’ he soothed. ‘We don’t know that it’s Hannah.’

  ‘But it isn’t! Oh no. Oh dear. Oh, Mike, what have I done?’

  Michael blinked, then said calmly, ‘Sylvia, darling, what have you done?’

  ‘Those drugs you took from Christian’s car. Oh dear.’

  Michael winced. ‘I’d forgotten, they’re in the safe. I’d better tell them.’

  ‘No, they’re not in the safe. The police were so obsessed with drugs yesterday, when they took you away, I got in a panic. I thought if they found them here, they’d think—’

  ‘Sylvia, don’t tell me you threw them down the well.’ I was ready to kiss her. It wasn’t Hannah.

  ‘I thought no one would ever think of looking there. Oh dear! I didn’t think—what have I done?’

  Michael placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Calm down. It can’t be helped. I should have got rid of them, first thing yesterday.’

  ‘But now they’ll think—’

  ‘Hush. At least it isn’t Hannah’s body.’

  I was almost laughing, swinging from terror to cock-sure confidence. ‘We’ll tell them we suspected Christian might have hidden some drugs around the place. Let them think he put them there.’

  ‘Don’t you think it would be better if we just told them the truth?’ asked Michael.

  ‘How’s it going to sound? Sylvia’s already changed her statement once. Let’s not rush. I’ll go back and see what’s happening.’

  I strode back to the walled garden, ready to take on the world. A constable stopped me before I could enter, but Wiles strolled over to speak to me.

  ‘Have you found her body?’ I demanded.

  ‘No, not yet, Mrs Lawrence. But we have made an interesting discovery in the well. A wash bag.’

  ‘A wash bag? How bizarre.’

  ‘Packed. My educated guess is cocaine, skunk and E. We’ll be able to confirm it when the labs have taken a look, but quite a haul.’

  ‘Good God.’

  ‘Any idea how it might have got there?’

  ‘Christian Callister! We keep telling you he’s involved with drugs. That’s why Dr Bradley threw him off the property. Christian could have stashes hidden all over the place.’

  ‘Christian Callister. Yes.’ The inspector gazed thoughtfully at the Great Hall. ‘Professor Pryce-Roberts tells me your builders frequently make use of the well.’

  I swore internally. ‘They want water; it’s a well; yes they use it.’

  ‘You don’t think they might have hidden drugs there?’

  ‘No I don’t! Why are you so fixated on them? Christian’s
the one responsible. Isn’t that obvious? Why don’t you get out there and look for him?’

  ‘We are looking, ma’am. We’re also looking for Hannah Quigley.’

  ‘Yes. Of course. Do you know yet if that blood was definitely hers?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to confirm or deny anything just yet, ma’am.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake!’

  I stormed back to the kitchen. We were in the midst of a murder enquiry and no one would tell us what was happening, what was suspected or what had been eliminated. It was unbelievably frustrating. The fact that I’d been telling the police as little as possible either was neither here nor there.

  ‘They’ve found the drugs,’ I told Michael and Sylvia. ‘I mentioned Christian, but they prefer to think it must have been Al.’

  Michael gave a fatalistic smile. ‘Sylvia’s explained she dropped the whole bag in. It contains several packets; I checked them, so my fingerprints will be all over them.’

  ‘Oh lord,’ wailed Sylvia.

  ‘At least that will clear Al of suspicion,’ said Michael.

  ‘I don’t suppose it will make any difference,’ I said. ‘They seem determined to pin something on him. How long can they hold him? Assuming they’re not trying to get him for terrorism?’

  ‘I’ll ring the station again,’ said Michael, fetching the phone. ‘They have no business keeping him in at all.’

  ‘Why are there two policemen in the bathroom?’ asked Tamsin, entering indignantly.

  ‘They think we’ve flushed Hannah Quigley down the pan,’ I explained. ‘What can you do with these people?’ I thought of the damage already done in the workshops by the police search. ‘I think I’d better go and back everything up before they get to the office. They’ll probably smash the laptop and confiscate our files.’ The police hadn’t yet started on the ground floor, so I had the office to myself for a while, securing what I could and sorting out the accumulated paperwork, before it was thrown to the winds. My heart wasn’t in it. When I’d done all I could face, I returned to the kitchen to see if Michael had made the slightest headway with the police station.