Dangerous Secrets

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Dangerous Secrets Page 18

by Chrissie Loveday


  ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your problems,’ Charlotte was babbling on. ‘Terrible for you. Have you decided what you’ll do?’

  ‘No. Not yet. It’s all a bit too recent.’ This was horrendous, she was thinking. What was this woman doing here, in her special place? She looked up and saw the surf crowd coming in. She waved and Rick came over.

  ‘Hi there. How’s it going? I’ve been missing you. Terrible business. We must catch up real soon. Oh, hi there. Nice to see you again. Couldn’t keep away, I guess.’ He was looking at the woman sitting next to Julia. ‘And this must be your father, I’m guessing. Haven’t seen you here for a long time.’

  Julia was silent. The second person to recognise Charlotte. She looked at her, waiting for a comment.

  ‘Sorry, have I said something wrong?’ Rick asked. ‘Known for putting my hoof in it. Jules … give me your new number and we’ll hook up sometime soon. Sorry if I intruded.’ He went back to his friends at the bar and the trio at their table sat in silence.

  At last Charlotte spoke.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. I drove over here yesterday. I was going to tell you but you didn’t give me a chance. I was so keen to meet Julia, I hoped we could have a chat and it was only because I want us to be friends.’

  ‘Why on earth didn’t you say?’ Gerard exploded.

  ‘Because I thought you might find it intrusive. You might have been angry.’

  ‘I’m damned angry now. I wouldn’t have minded at all but the fact you tried to hide it. I wondered why you seemed less enthusiastic about coming here, than I’d expected.’

  ‘I suppose you wanted to get your feet well under the table, didn’t you?’ Julia snapped. ‘And to dare to wear my mother’s earrings. Oh yes, I recognised them right away.’

  ‘Diamond studs all look the same,’ Gerard said.

  ‘They don’t all have that particular setting with a tiny piece bent inwards like that.’

  Charlotte glared at him. She unhooked the earrings and handed them to Julia.

  ‘I’m sorry, I had no idea. He gave them to me and I assumed he’d bought them for me. They should be yours.’

  ‘I don’t want them now. And I don’t want to know you or to be friends with you. Forget it.’ She got up and went over to Rick and his friends. ‘Give me your number,’ she told him. ‘I’ll text you with mine.’

  ‘So, like I said,’ she overheard the chap among the group that she didn’t know. ‘If you need anything electrical, just let me know. I’ve got a bit of a business going.’

  ‘Right, thanks mate. I could do with a telly. Can’t afford to spend every evening here in the pub. Costing me more than I’m earning.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ she whispered to Rick.

  ‘Who? Oh Daryl? He’s Wayne’s brother. You know Wayne? Lucy’s intended.’

  ‘Thanks. Interesting.’ It was nugget of information that might lead towards the recent thefts.

  ‘So, what’s going on with your father? Thought you didn’t get on.’

  ‘We don’t. And now he’s turned up with that woman. I really can’t cope. Oh Jim, can I have my pasty to go? I don’t like the company in here. Sorry, not you Rick. And by the way, you were right. She was here yesterday. It was her and not some fictitious double. She was trying to spy on me, I gather.’

  Julia went back to the office and let herself in. She locked the door behind her. She didn’t want her father to make another attempt to talk. How could he blatantly bring in someone else so soon after her mother’s death? No wonder Ryan was so stressed. And giving her their mother’s jewellery was the limit. It wasn’t as if she really wanted it herself but nor did she want another of her father’s girlfriends to have it. What else was he bribing her with? It was hateful. However nice she was, Charlotte should not be in their lives for a long time yet, if ever. She took a bite out of the pasty, decided it was also tainted by her father and threw it into the bin. She’d rather starve.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The tension between Gerard and Charlotte took some time to ease. She managed to convince him at last that she was only after wanting to be friends with his daughter.

  ‘I thought that if I could get her to talk to me as an anonymous stranger to begin with, it might make things easier. I can so easily understand why anyone coming into the close-knit family group would be a potential problem. Am I forgiven?’

  ‘I suppose so. But never, never put me in this sort of situation again.’

  ‘Of course not, darling. I’ve learned a lesson here. And you should put those earrings away safely. I won’t wear them again.’

  ‘I know I was wrong there too. I have so many lovely pieces of jewellery though. Yes, they were my wife’s. I wanted you to have some of them for yourself. Perhaps I should sell them and buy you some new things.’

  ‘You should give at least some of them to Julia. Come on, think about it. She should have her mother’s jewels. It’s the usual way of things.’

  ‘You saw how she was with them when you offered them.’

  ‘You must have realized it was because I’d been wearing them. She obviously recognised them and knew them very well. As you said yourself, every pair of diamond studs look similar but she picked up on it right away. Anyway, could we leave now? Delicious though this pasty may be, my appetite is rather spoilt.’

  ‘I could do with making a trip into Truro. In fact, I really do have to go. Something I should have done this morning before all this came up. You could have a look round the shops. It’s a nice little city.’

  ‘Whatever,’ she said with an air of resignation. Somehow, this visit was all going wrong.

  He was quite right. Truro was a lovely city. With the cathedral dominating the centre and plenty of pretty shops, Charlotte enjoyed her wander. The large open area at the centre was buzzing with life and several pavement cafes were crowded in the warm sun. She would find plenty to amuse her for the rest of the afternoon. Gerard went into the hotel and asked to be shown to the private room his colleagues had booked. The two men were in a deep conversation when he arrived.

  ‘I’m sorry to be late. I had a few private matters to sort out. Where have we got to?’

  ‘Still at the planning stage I’m afraid. Two blocks of land in the way, then we should be good to go.’

  ‘Right. I think one of them may become available fairly soon so there’s just the one left. Meantime, I trust the rest of the business is holding its own?’

  ‘Oh yes, indeed. I think you’ll be quite happy with the figures. Now, let’s get down to the main discussion.’

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Sergeant Trekellis was still feeling upset when he drove past the burnt-out wreck of Crofters. He had known the place and the family most of his life and felt it was an attack on his own patch that, somehow, he should have prevented.

  They hadn’t been doing enough to protect this area. All this vandalism was something quite new and seemed to be well organised. He’d had a word with Jim at the pub, asking him to listen out for anyone selling electrical goods on the cheap. Whoever had been systematically robbing the holiday homes as well as privately-owned places must have some way of getting rid of the stolen goods.

  Mr Davies had put in security for some of the places but it had scarcely stopped the problems. He’d even wondered if the man himself was somehow in on some insurance scams but that had come to nothing. Besides, with the size of his business, a few quid for second-hand televisions was hardly going to make him rich. More significant was where his money came from in the first place.

  When the Penzance officers had been down to take a casting of the famous footprint, he had gone with them into the garden. Pity it had only just come to light. He felt sure it had something to do with the vandalism. He’d have liked to match it up to the partial prints in the old Smythe place.

  He glanced over at that property. It had been tidied up and furnished for holidaymakers. Nothing special, not like when the old girls lived there. They’d had some
nice antiques and now it was full of modern tat. All symptomatic of the changes in life. It was probably time he retired. Only a few more months to go and a full pension would be his. His wife was already making plans for them.

  He drove along the lane slowly, looking at each property as he went. Couldn’t be many left along here that were privately owned. Crofters had gone and yes, it was just Sea Spray left that was owned by a doctor up-country. He parked outside and, with police privilege, walked up the path confidently to take a look around. He knocked at the door, just in case someone was staying there but there was no reply. He walked round the back and peered in through the window. Everything looked in order. He could see a television in the living room so obviously there had been no break-in. He heard a rustling among the bushes and turned to look. The branches had been disturbed and surely, yes someone was hiding there.

  ‘Come out you. I can see you. What are you doing in this garden? Oh, it’s you.’

  ‘Doing some gardening. Owners asked me to look in from time to time. Make sure it’s kep’ tidy.’

  ‘Oh really? Not doing much of a job then are you? The grass hasn’t been cut this year. And do you know the name of these owners who asked you to look after the place?’

  ‘I dunno. Stopped me one day when I was walking by.’

  ‘Now, why don’t I believe you? I reckon you were doing a recce and you were planning to come back in the dark and do a clearance job on the place.’

  ‘You ain’t got no proof of that. Picking on me you are. Police victimisation, that’s what it is. I’ll get my lawyer onto you.’

  ‘Since when did the likes of you have a tame lawyer on call?’

  ‘Quite often as it ‘appens.’

  ‘Yer, I can believe that. You’ve got quite a record haven’t you? Can I see your trainers by the way?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. You can see ’em by lookin’ at ’em.’

  ‘I want to see the soles. Come on stick your foot out.’

  ‘Have you got a warrant?’

  ‘Don’t need one. I bet you’ve got some items of clothing that stink of petrol too. What were you doing last week? Sunday night for example?’

  ‘I was in the pub with my mates.’

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘Home in my bed gettin’ my beauty sleep.’

  ‘Come on. Let me look at those shoes.’

  ‘Gerroff me. You can’t do this. I have my rights.’

  ‘You’ll be banged to rights, if you don’t do as you’re told.’

  The sergeant grabbed hold of the man’s leg and tried to turn over his foot. As he did so, the man kicked out, knocking him off balance. The sergeant fell flat backwards, hitting his head on the stone path as he did so.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ the youth exclaimed. ‘Now you’ve done it. Stupid old fool. Why did you have to try and grab me like that?’

  He kicked at the sergeant’s prone body but it did not move. He’s got me hasn’t he? Knows who I am. But there’s nobody else knows I’m here, or even him, come to that. He’d better not wake up. I’ll take him round the back and make sure he doesn’t ever wake again.

  Heaving and straining he tried to lift the portly sergeant but he was too heavy. He glanced round and was relieved there was no one in sight. He managed to drag him behind the bushes and hide the body with undergrowth. He hit him again using a large piece of rock. Good job there’s plenty of rocks around here. Shan’t leave it behind this time. When will you people learn that this sort of thing happens if you try to upset me? It’s your own fault.

  He pulled some branches over the sergeant and smoothed the ground where he’d dragged the corpse. He was certain it wasn’t visible from the road or even the footpath leading to the front door. Sometimes the postman came, even when nobody was living there and he didn’t want it found until he was himself well clear of the area.

  He started down the path and realised the police car was still parked outside. It would soon be noticed and someone would investigate. It had to be moved. He went back to the body and felt in the pocket of his tunic. The keys were there. He also pulled out a pair of thin rubber gloves and smiled.

  ‘Thanks a lot, mate. They’ll be very handy.’

  He pulled the gloves on and went to the car. Lucky for him, there was still nobody around. The holidaymakers were all on the beach, enjoying the sunshine, he thought. So, now what to do with this car? Bit obvious, being a cop car. He drove away from the village and up the steep hill. He needed to park it somewhere out of sight till it got dark and then he could dispose of it.

  He remembered there was a little wood, a couple of miles away. It would be safe there until he could drive it over a cliff somewhere. Yes, that was the best thing. He’d hide the car and stay in it till it was dark. Burning it would only attract attention and then they’d be out looking for a body. If he went over the cliff, everyone would think the sergeant had tried to get out and drowned in the process.

  He gave a little laugh, delighted by his own cleverness. His mate would probably come and pick him up, once the deed was done. He didn’t want to be seen too near home for any of this. And he must get rid of these damned shoes. That had been a close thing. How had he managed to leave a footprint after all this time? First chance he got, he’d have to burn them or someone might find them and link them to him.

  He sat in the police car, almost tempted to try some of the switches to see what they did. He resisted the urge. If he set the siren going, it would hardly go unnoticed, now would it? He was proud of the way he’d dealt with things. He was quite oblivious to the dreadful truth. He’d killed two people. Nearly three, if the girl hadn’t got out of the cottage when the fire took hold. None of it was his fault, he reasoned. If any one of them hadn’t got in his way, they’d all be alive right now. All the same, it was probably time to call a halt to all of this.

  He’d collect his pay from the boss and scarper off to Spain. By the end of the week, he could be sunning himself. Collecting birds by the dozen. He’d seen on telly where girls on holiday got drunk on cheap booze every night and they were practically begging for it. He’d be happy to oblige. Forget the girls around here. He’d do much better for himself over there. He couldn’t wait.

  At half past eight, he decided it was dark enough to carry out his plan. He drove out of the wood, careful not to draw attention to himself. He drove to the North Coast and to a track he knew that led to the top of the steep cliffs. Being a police car, nobody would question what he was doing. He left his hood down, knowing that someone in a hood driving a police car would be more likely to be noticed. He had his sunglasses on, even in the dark. Taking no chances. His hands were sweaty under the latex gloves but it meant there was no way he’d have left a fingerprint anywhere.

  He looked around as far as he could see and there was nobody about. He put the car into gear, and held down the pedals with the rock he’d brought with him. He got out, leaving the door open, and leaned in to release the handbrake, grabbing at the rock as he did so. He was nearly dragged with it but he managed to jump clear. The car lurched forward and over the top. He laughed in delight. Not only was it a stolen car he was wrecking, it was the pigs’ car. He tossed the rock over the top and peered down. The damned car had stuck on an outcrop part-way down. Suddenly, it burst into flames. Damn it. It was all going wrong. Someone would be bound to see the flames and come charging over here.

  He stuffed the gloves in his pocket and made a swift run back down the track, away from the coast. He pulled up his hood and began to jog towards the next village. From there, he’d phone his mate or failing that he could get a bus. He didn’t want to be seen in the area.

  It was unfortunate that the ground was still soft. He wasn’t to realize for some time, that he had left those same, distinctive footprints

  Chapter Twenty-six

  After the encounter with her father and Charlotte, Julia felt quite disturbed. She finished her shift in the office, turned on the answering machine and locked up, remember
ing to set the alarm. She wandered down to the beach and sat at the top of the slipway. People were packing up and leaving the beach and dragging weary children back to their homes. It was the scene typical of every seaside at this time of day.

  She pulled out her phone and dialled Ryan’s number. It was voicemail yet again. If she didn’t know him better, she’d have thought he was avoiding speaking to her. She left a message.

  ‘Hi, brother of mine. Call me back when you can. I’ve met that woman with Dad today. Did you know he’s given her some of Mum’s jewellery? He’s flaunting her round like you’d never believe. And the sly bitch actually came over here on her own yesterday to spy on me. I couldn’t believe it. She tried to pretend it wasn’t her but too many people recognised her so she had to admit it. Right, hope to speak soon. Going back to the boss’s place now. Reckon I’ll have to sort something out permanently soon. Bye. Love you.’

  She so wanted to speak to her brother but where was he? She drove back to Bryce’s place, wondering what she would do with her evening. He had every form of entertainment available but they had very different tastes in music and, it seemed, films. He had a large collection of DVDs available but mostly rather weird ones that did not appeal to her. She went to her room and took a shower. She needed to get some more clothes very soon. Shopping on Saturday beckoned, if she could last that long with her few things.

  ‘You home, Julia?’ Bryce called as he came in. ‘Course you are. The car’s outside. You in your room?’

  She came out and went down the stairs.

  ‘Thought I’d cook something nice for dinner if you don’t have plans. Then I’ve brought in some new DVDs. I hope I’ve picked things more to your taste, as I could see you don’t like my collection.’

  ‘That’s really kind of you. Thank you. I can cook if you like?’

 

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