Lethal Waves

by Pauline Rowson

  Every conceivable surface was covered with photographs. They were of a baby, a toddler, a young boy: Cary Gamblin.

  ‘It breaks your heart,’ Cantelli said softly.

  Horton heard the catch in Cantelli’s voice and crossed to the window to gather his thoughts and emotions. His heart ached with grief for Martha. He stared across the common in the gathering dusk of the early winter evening, trying to put himself in Martha’s shoes. Having killed the people she held responsible for her child’s death, what was left for her? He shuddered and fear crept up his spine. Perhaps they were already too late. She’d had two hours to get away, to where, though?

  He spoke as though to himself, ‘Where would a tormented and bereaved mother go when there was nothing else left for her?’

  Cantelli came to stand beside him. Horton knew he was thinking of his own five children in their small house a mile from here across the other side of the common. Horton had the answer to his question anyway. It was easy.

  He turned to Cantelli. ‘She’d go where any parent would wish to be – with their child.’

  ‘She’s killed herself.’

  ‘Perhaps not yet. There might still be time. Call in and get the flat sealed off. I need your car, Barney.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Cantelli, handing over the keys.

  ‘To the Eastney lifeboat station where Elkins and Ripley can pick me up in the RIB and take me over to the Bembridge lifeboat station because that’s as near as she can get to where Cary died. I just hope Elkins isn’t too far away.’ Horton was already stabbing a number in his mobile phone as he spoke.

  ‘Shouldn’t we alert the Bembridge lifeboat station?’ Cantelli asked concerned.

  ‘No. She’ll be on the long pier that leads to it and if the crew turn up in a rush or she sees flashing blue lights or police officers she’ll jump if she hasn’t already done so. She might when she hears me approaching on the police RIB – it’s a chance I have to take. But we’ll be there and might be able to save her.’ Into his phone, he said, ‘Dai, where are you?’

  ‘Just heading back along Hayling Bay from Sparkes Marina.’

  Good, that wasn’t far. It wouldn’t take them long to reach the Eastney lifeboat station. He gave instructions for them to get there as quickly as possible and said he’d meet them there. Turning back to Cantelli, he said, ‘Brief Uckfield. Tell him where I’m heading but whatever he does tell him to hold back on informing the island police until I can update him or you.’

  Cantelli nodded and reached for his phone, saying, ‘Good luck, Andy.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  Horton made it to the Eastney lifeboat station in eight minutes, which was something of a record. He hurried down to the waiting RIB and told PC Ripley at the helm to head for the Bembridge lifeboat. There was no time for explanations and the high-speed crossing would be too noisy for him to say much, but as he donned his life jacket he shouted, ‘Possible suicide.’

  Elkins nodded. It took all Ripley’s concentration in the growing dark to navigate the Solent, guided by his prior knowledge, his GPS, the powerful light on the RIB and the pinpricks of lights on the shores of the island. The sea was deserted and thankfully relatively calm, although Horton knew from the forecast that this was the lull before the next front rolled in, due in a few hours’ time. He sensed it would be sooner: already the wind speed was quickening and there was a heavy feel in the air that heralded rain. The forecasters often got it wrong. Perhaps that was what Dennis Lyster had been banking on the day he had taken Rowan and Cary out with him.

  As they approached Bembridge, the sea grew choppier and the moon’s appearance became more fleeting as the rapidly scudding clouds began to roll up into one. They were almost there. Horton could see the rounded structure of the lifeboat building on the end of the long pier. It had taken them less than ten minutes. With a tap on Ripley’s shoulder and a wave of his hand, he indicated for him to ease down and make for the shore beyond the pier to the south. Eagerly he scanned the pier for a solitary figure and spotted her the same time as Elkins pointed towards her. Not that they could see her features but Horton knew it was Martha. She was close to the building, leaning on the railings. His heart leapt into his throat. His chest tightened. He felt her anguish and despair and, despite the fact she had killed he felt an overwhelming sorrow for her. His thoughts flicked to Emma. If anyone ever harmed her … His blood ran cold. His body stiffened. Roughly he pushed his personal feelings aside and tried to replace them with professional ones. It was far from easy.

  As Ripley skilfully brought the RIB on to the sand and shingle shore, avoiding the outcrop of rocks some distance to the south, Horton watched the solitary figure on the pier. She must have seen and heard them but she gave no indication of it. Perhaps she was too deep in her memories and sorrow to hear, see and think about anything except her son. Horton understood that.

  He leapt out of the RIB and asked Elkins to accompany him. The bulky sergeant fell into step beside him as they headed quickly along the shore. Horton didn’t want to risk using a torch and alerting Martha but he had no choice. He requested Elkins to direct its beam downwards. Above them and to their left on the low cliff top, Horton could see the lights of the hotel and caught the sound of music in the wind. But soon they left that behind. No one was in the lifeboat car park or at the entrance to the pier as they climbed up on to it. He told Elkins to wait and call Cantelli. Cantelli would tell Uckfield they’d found Martha and to instruct Newport Police to arrive silently with no blue lights. He switched off his mobile phone, saying with urgency, ‘Don’t let anyone come on to the pier. Not until I say so.’

  Elkins nodded. Horton took a deep breath and struck out along the pier thinking that his problems – his quest to discover what had happened to Jennifer and his loathing of Lord Richard Eames who he blamed for his bitter memories and experiences as a child – were nothing compared to this woman’s pain. A pain that had driven her to murder.

  He walked briskly and steadily towards the solitary figure. His gut tensed. She had climbed over the railings and was standing precariously poised on the very thin ledge on the seaward side, ready to jump into the swirling sea beneath her, her hands clinging to the railings. But she hadn’t jumped. There was time to save her. His heart was hammering against his chest.

  ‘This is where he died,’ she said as he drew level. ‘Alone, cold and afraid.’

  His heart ached for her. Through his mind flashed an image of Emma, the same age as Cary had been when he’d died, struggling in the sea, terrified, fighting with desperation to stay alive, swallowing sea water, going under, her lungs filling up with water. He shuddered violently. Saying he was sorry was pointless. So he said nothing. He just waited. Soon her arms would begin to ache. Could he seize her hands and prevent her from jumping?

  After what seemed an age but was probably only a minute, she said, ‘I’m not sorry I killed them, Andy, although it was wrong of me to kill Mr Clements. But he was going to tell you I had the gun.’

  ‘Let’s talk about this later, Martha. Let me help you climb back over.’ He stretched out his hand but she shook her head.

  ‘Don’t touch me, Andy or I’ll jump right now.’

  He held up his hands and stepped back a fraction. ‘I can get you help.’

  ‘No, it’s too late for that. There’s no going back. It’s time to be with my boy.’

  ‘Martha, please.’

  But with renewed urgency and finality, she said, ‘No, Andy, there’s nothing left for me. Cary needs me and I need him.’ She lifted one hand from the railing. He had to stop her from jumping. He knew that Ripley in the RIB would be poised to rescue her from the sea but it was dark and the sea was blowing up rough. By the time Ripley reached her she could have swallowed enough sea water to drown. It didn’t take long.

  A drizzling, driving rain began to roll in from the south-west, making visibility poorer. She wiped a hand across her face and put it back on the railing. Horton breathed a silen
t sigh of temporary relief. Gently, he said, ‘Tell me what happened, Martha.’ If he could keep her talking … if he could reach out and guide her back over …

  ‘Dennis said Cary had unclipped himself but he would never have done that; He was a very good sailor. Dennis taught him how to sail. He said that Cary was a natural. I don’t think Rowan liked that; it put his nose out of joint. He was a spoiled, selfish child. Cary knew all about safety. He was only ten and yet he heard the forecast that morning and his last words to me were, “I don’t think we should go sailing today, Mum”.’ A sob caught in her throat. ‘I should have told him not to go then. To stay home with me. But I didn’t. I said nothing.’ Her voice hardened.

  God knows how many times she must have gone over that, he thought. Endlessly, day after day, tormenting herself, and yet he’d seen her so many times – the smiling, welcoming face behind the counter, heard her gentle voice and witnessed her kindness to those at Gravity in unfortunate situations while all the time inside her gnawed the pain and heavy burden of her loss, the bitterness, guilt and self-loathing.

  ‘Robin told him not to be such a scaredy-cat.’

  And Robin’s words had sent his child to his death. That had driven Robin to despair and drink and eventually to a life on the streets.

  ‘What did Dennis say?’

  ‘He said they should postpone it but Robin said they couldn’t and Evelyn insisted they go. I tried to argue with her and Robin.’ Martha turned her earnest expression on him. ‘God knows I tried but I didn’t try hard enough. I said what would a couple of days’ delay make? Evelyn said a lost sale. The gems had to be offloaded that day to an overseas buyer who was waiting on his boat in Bembridge Marina. So they went. Money was far more important than my child’s life.’

  He’d been correct then except that he hadn’t thought the Gamblins had known about the dealing. ‘You knew what was going on?’ he asked. He had to get her to climb back over to him.

  ‘Yes. We were all in it, except the children, of course. They were cover. People are so greedy. Oh, I include myself in that. I’m also to blame for my boy’s death.’ She shifted. Horton held his breath. He thought she’d fall. He tensed, poised, ready to go over to save her. The lifebelt was some distance from them, but even if he threw it to her in the water, he knew she wouldn’t take it.

  He said, ‘Dennis was stealing diamonds from his company and Evelyn was finding buyers for them.’

  ‘Yes, and that wasn’t all. Robin insured a lot of valuable possessions. He said there was always something dodgy in people’s collections, something they didn’t declare because it had probably been smuggled into the country or bought from a dubious source, or possibly stolen. He had a lot of wealthy clients and he suggested I start a small cleaning business, cleaning exclusively for certain wealthy people. He’d recommend me. I thought it would be a good chance for me to earn some money of my own. I liked cleaning. I didn’t know then what he was planning but soon he asked me to nose around, especially if I was cleaning when the owners were out, which was usually the case. He gave me a list of their insured items and I was to see if there was anything else hidden away, or even on show, that they hadn’t put on the insurance.’

  Her arms must be aching. Her feet might easily slip on the now wet, small ledge. Horton eased forward a little. Could he grab her from here and hold her until assistance came? He was strong but he knew she would fight like a woman possessed to escape his grip. There was no one behind him but Elkins was waiting at the end of the pier and soon others would join him. If he grabbed her and shouted would they get here in time to help him? But how could he, or anyone else, make her climb back over on to the pier without using force? Then fear flooded through him. What would happen if the lifeboat had a shout? He prayed they wouldn’t because she wouldn’t hesitate to throw herself in if she heard the boom of the alert and saw the crew hurtling down here. The police officers wouldn’t be able to stop the crew if there was an emergency at sea. He had to get her to want to climb back over to him. He’d keep her talking; she’d need to explain.

  He said, ‘You’d catalogue anything you found and tell Robin.’

  ‘Yes. Robin had met Evelyn at a business function. I didn’t know then that they were having an affair, not until after Cary died. Robin introduced me to her and Dennis. Evelyn was very clever and unscrupulous. And she was evil. Oh, not that you’d think that on the surface. She was glamorous and sophisticated but she was also very greedy. She travelled the world, attended trade fairs and meetings, acted as a translator for wealthy and influential business people. She picked up a lot of information about art, cultural objects and jewellery. Robin would tell her about his clients’ collections and anything they had that wasn’t insured. He asked me to take photographs and he showed her the pictures. Some of Robin’s clients had financial problems, others had secrets they’d rather not be made public. Robin came up with a way to help them out of their problems.’

  Just as he’d done with Vivian Clements.

  ‘Often I’d hear telephone conversations or read correspondence that gave me information Robin could use to blackmail the owner. When you’re a cleaner you become invisible. People talk and argue in front of you. You get the chance to poke around in cupboards and drawers. Robin would then approach the owner and say he’d keep quiet about their affair, their business fraud, their illegal possession of a gun or an antique, whatever they wanted to hide, if he was given something of value. If it was an illegally acquired antique, painting, piece of jewellery or weapon he told them he would sell it. He even offered to give them a small percentage of the sale, which was clever because it appealed to the greed of the owners and made them feel as though they weren’t really being blackmailed. If it was a secret the client didn’t want exposed then Robin would take something from their collection and sell it in return for his silence. Or if the client was in financial difficulty Robin would arrange a phoney robbery, the client would get the insurance money and Robin and Evelyn would sell the items to people who didn’t ask questions about where they had come from.’

  ‘And Dennis was the delivery man.’

  ‘Yes.’

  And after Cary’s death Robin and Martha had disappeared and Evelyn and Dennis had continued with their illegal gem trading. The Gamblins could have revealed all but both were in too deeply and were too distressed and guilt-ridden over the death of their child. The public would have no sympathy with them when they discovered how they had used their son.

  ‘It was very successful,’ Martha continued.

  Until Cary had died. And what had happened to the goods Dennis was supposed to have been delivering that day? Had they been thrown overboard or simply kept on the yacht until Evelyn could rearrange their delivery?

  The rain was getting heavier. Martha’s greying hair was plastered to her sharp, gaunt face. The rain was running off his own.

  ‘I thought we’d be able to afford to send Cary to a private school and give him the education he deserved. He was so clever. After he died Robin blamed himself. He was right to. He took to drinking and eventually he lost everything. He walked out of my life but by that time I hardly noticed he’d gone. I suffered a nervous breakdown and went into hospital. I moved away but I couldn’t move away from the pain. I returned to Portsmouth a year ago. I wanted to be closer to my son. I knew then that I would join him here when the time was right.’

  ‘On the anniversary of his death?’

  ‘Yes. That was what I planned. I took whatever casual work I could to pay the rent. I never heard from Robin. I didn’t know where he was and he didn’t make any effort to contact me. I never saw him until last February, two days before the anniversary of Cary’s death, and there he was in the local newspaper. I postponed my plans. I went to Gravity and said I’d like to volunteer on Tuesdays. Robin was there, as I knew he’d be from the article. He didn’t even recognize me.’ She turned her anguished eyes on Horton and, despite what she had done, he felt an all-consuming pity for her. He wa
s sure he could hear cars approaching. She didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘Glyn took me on as a volunteer. He knew things were tough for me. He’d help me out with money when he could. I ate at the centre and I got food from the food bank. I didn’t want to sign on to claim benefit. I didn’t want people to know I was here. Glyn gave me a reference for Bellman’s Catering so that I could do some casual work for them, cash in hand, and I did the occasional cleaning job for people. I didn’t tell anyone my real name. Not even Glyn. He didn’t know anything about Cary or Robin. I said nothing. I waited for Robin to say something to me but in all the time he worked there he didn’t recognize me. There he was picking up his life as though nothing had happened, as though our child hadn’t died. He said his life on the streets had been caused by a business failure. It was as though Cary had never existed.’

  Horton didn’t venture to say that perhaps it had been too painful for Robin to speak of. Martha could never have seen that.

  ‘Then she walked in. She knew he was there. She must have seen the same article. It was the end of March but I had seen both her and Dennis before then.’

  ‘At Rowan’s wedding, where you were a waitress.’

  ‘Yes. It was a very small wedding – only a few friends of Rowan’s and Gina’s but not her parents or any relatives. I don’t know if she has any and Evelyn hadn’t invited any of her family or Dennis’s. The wedding breakfast was held in a hotel and they were short-staffed so they asked Bellman’s to supply staff. Both Evelyn and Dennis looked right through me. Not surprising as my grief, which they caused, has ravaged me,’ she said with bitterness and released a hand to brush her rain-soaked face. Horton eased forward.