by Rebecca Tope
‘Nonsense,’ said Angie. ‘What earthly good would that do? It just creates the illusion that you’re not all on your own.’
‘Illusion?’
‘Yes. A phone can’t save you, when it comes to the crunch.’
Again, Simmy closed her eyes. The world had turned cold and unfeeling, with her mother the worst offender. ‘All right. You go to the police and I’ll go to the shop. But I’m not staying there long. When – if – Melanie arrives, I’m leaving her in charge, and coming back here. Okay? And phone me in the shop if anything happens. I mean anything.’
‘Of course. But if I’m not back before you, you won’t be able to get in.’
Simmy raised an eyebrow. ‘I will – you forgot to lock the back door.’
‘To hell with it. It can stay open.’ This was meant as a parting shot, and Angie began to walk determinedly down the hill towards Bowness. Simmy opened her mouth to protest, her father’s recent anxieties too acute to ignore in such a way. But then she gave herself a shake. Until a few weeks ago, nobody had locked the Beck View doors until last thing at night. Despite the fearful anonymous threat to burn the place down, she could see little sense in relying on keys.
‘Right, then,’ she muttered, more to herself than her mother. ‘Let’s see what Ben has to say.’
She hurried into the centre of Windermere and opened up her neglected shop. It was half past two, and the streets were far from thronged with shoppers. There was, after all, not a lot to buy in this modest little town. It was hard enough to track down anything to eat, let alone anything else. A big tourist shop took a prominent position on the main road down to the lakeside, and others offered maps, clothes and lingerie. Only with more diligent exploring did a few others come to light.
Restlessly, she checked her computer for new orders, and then went into the back room to assess the amount of work required for the wedding next day. The shelves looked bare now the stacks of funeral tributes had all disappeared. Stocks of fresh blooms for wedding favours were worryingly low. It might be a small affair, but the order included a handsome table display, and a bouquet for the bride, as well as sprays for the mothers and sisters. No particular colour scheme, and a request to keep the prices low, gave her much more freedom than usual.
All she could think about was her father. If he was in danger, if something appalling happened to him, nothing in the world would ever seem bright or hopeful again. The fear was paralysing, and was growing worse. Picking at various flowers, squashing them together and then dropping them, she knew she would never be able to concentrate on the job in hand. A wire pricked her thumb, and she sucked it absent-mindedly. Somewhere not far away a dog was yapping. Faint voices drifted in from the street.
And then the two youngsters she had come to regard almost as family came bursting in, laughing and talking as if nothing was wrong. The sudden appearance of them both was almost overwhelming after the anguished solitude and quiet. ‘Hey!’ said Melanie carelessly. ‘All right?’
Before Simmy could respond, Ben asked, ‘Where’s Bonnie?’ and Melanie stared at the rearranged flowers with open-mouthed admiration.
‘You saw her last,’ said Simmy.
‘She said she’d come back here. I thought she’d be first. Mel called me and asked me to wait for her at the church.’
The complex logistics of the mobile phone generation went over Simmy’s head. Their exact movements were none of her business anyway.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Melanie, finally noticing Simmy’s face. ‘Did something happen?’
‘My dad’s gone missing.’ It seemed starkly foolish, an echo from a melodrama that bore no relation to the people in the actual world who she knew and loved.
‘No! When? How?’
‘Must have been soon after my mother left for the funeral. The dog’s gone as well.’
‘What makes you think he’s not just gone for a walk?’ asked Ben.
Simmy frowned for a moment. Had she and her mother even considered such a bland possibility? She knew they hadn’t, and wondered why. ‘He’s been gone too long,’ she said. ‘And … it would be weird to go right in the middle of the day.’ She floundered, thinking that with Russell’s strange moods, there was every chance he had decided to stride off along the lake shore, or even through Heathwaite to the slopes of Brant Fell. Anything was possible.
‘Bet you that’s what he’s done. After your epic hike on Monday, he’ll be all fired up to do it again. Can’t you phone him?’
Melanie snorted. ‘The whole family’s useless with phones,’ she reminded him.
It was magical the way Simmy felt so much better after a few words with the youngsters. They made everything seem so normal and manageable. But better was still not okay. ‘My mum’s gone to tell the police about Dad. He’s been so … peculiar lately, we’re both scared he’s in trouble of some sort. And I haven’t told you the full story about the horrible anonymous letter, saying they’d burn the house down. That really upset him. He went almost catatonic with the shock.’
Ben’s jaw went slack. ‘You took it to the police right away, I hope.’
‘Well, no. It was late last night before I saw it. And we were so worried about Dad—’ She stopped herself. ‘Why am I defending myself?’
‘So tell us what it said,’ Ben suggested. Simmy did her best to repeat the wording, after which Ben just nodded with a display of satisfaction. ‘Stupid thing to do,’ he judged.
‘Come on – get the kettle on, and we’ll talk it all through,’ said Melanie briskly. ‘And you can do the flowers for tomorrow’s wedding at the same time.’
Simmy gave her a searching look. ‘I thought you didn’t want any more to do with crimes and detective work.’
‘I don’t. But every time I come near you, that’s what I get. I s’pose I don’t have much choice about it.’
Simmy laughed and felt better all over again.
‘But where’s Bonnie?’ said Ben again, looking at the door like a dog waiting for an overdue master.
Chapter Eighteen
Ten minutes later, they were arranged in a huddle at the back of the shop and Simmy was elaborating on the tribulations that had overcome her father. ‘He was practically catatonic with shock,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen him like that before. Nowhere near it. We thought he’d had a stroke or something.’
‘Rotten thing to do,’ muttered Ben. ‘Have you told old Moxo about it now?’
‘My mother phoned to report it this morning, and the police said they’d send somebody to have a look, but they didn’t get around to it before the funeral, according to my mother. She didn’t seem very bothered about it. I suppose things didn’t seem so bad in the light of day. And my mother’s been busy.’
He frowned. ‘All morning?’
‘Yes, all morning. They’re running a business, you know. There’s a lot to do. I didn’t have much time myself till nearly midday, or I would have called to chivvy them. I was too distracted with Bonnie and her dratted dog.’
‘Spike?’ said Melanie. ‘She didn’t bring him here, did she?’
‘She did. And he nearly bit a man. I sent them both home. Corinne’s gone to a music festival in Lincoln and left her all on her own.’
Ben sighed. ‘I was hoping we could concentrate on the murder,’ he said, with a hint of regret. ‘I’ve found out a few things. But now there’s this business with your dad.’ He brightened. ‘I suppose there must be a direct connection, if he has been abducted. It’s a pretty daft thing to do, from the killer’s point of view. Makes it a lot more likely he’ll get caught. Even dafter than sending a threatening letter,’ he added.
Simmy was sporadically fashioning the wedding bouquet, with Melanie handing her the flowers one at a time. Considering how distracted she was, it was coming along rather nicely. ‘What things have you found out?’ she encouraged Ben.
He raised his eyebrows at her and glanced at Melanie. ‘The man who died. Travis McNaughton. We knew already that he li
ved in Grasmere, no proper job. His sister’s got more about her on Google than he has. She’s a professional dancer – modern ballet. Sasha McNaughton. He probably doesn’t see her much these days – they don’t seem to have much in common. But she’s likely to show up now he’s been murdered. Otherwise, we’re just left with the impression that he was a likeable chap who never did anybody any harm.’
‘He helped Mrs Elderflower with her garden,’ Simmy remembered.
‘Who?’
‘The woman who found his body. She was picking elderflowers.’
‘Has that got anything to do with anything?’ Melanie demanded.
‘Might have. Who knows?’
‘There are two main questions,’ Ben summarised. ‘Where’s the other man who was with him in the car? And were they stealing dogs?’
‘And where’s my father got to?’ Simmy reminded him. ‘Just for the moment, that’s the only one I really care about.’
‘Right,’ Ben agreed briskly. ‘But we can’t answer that one by deduction. The others we might. And it’ll take your mind off him,’ he added kindly. ‘So bear with me, if you can. Now, according to Scott, it looks as if there was just the one attacker. The farm doesn’t have anyone living there and no dogs there now. But all kinds of things are possible that I can’t find out. Like – maybe they were using one of the buildings to keep kidnapped dogs in, and moved them all when McNaughton died.’
‘None of this is helpful,’ Simmy complained. ‘We’re going over old ground.’
‘You know something?’ Ben said slowly. ‘We can’t be sure the dead man was the one you saw driving the Renault. You haven’t had to identify him, have you? They’ve just assumed it is, because he’s the registered owner. Maybe the two men you saw had nicked the car, and they’re both killers.’
‘Or maybe they’ve got nothing to do with it at all,’ said Melanie.
‘They have, though,’ said Simmy, ‘because they’ve threatened to burn my parents’ house down if my father gives evidence against them. As I ought not to have to remind you.’
‘Somebody has,’ Ben corrected her. ‘You don’t know who.’
‘I wish I’d been at the funeral,’ said Melanie, in a sudden change of subject. ‘Did you and Bonnie go to the wake?’ she asked Ben.
‘It’s not a wake,’ said the boy automatically. ‘That’s before the burial or whatever.’
‘What is it, then?’ asked Melanie.
‘I don’t think it’s got a name. Which is weird, I know.’
‘Anyway,’ Simmy clung to the thread of their original conversation, ‘I think my father was not entirely sure he should go anywhere near the police, in case the house really was set alight. And then Bonnie told me she knew of a man who’d threatened her and Corinne with the same thing. Although …’ she shook her head at the sudden thought, hoping to dislodge it, ‘I wonder if she just said that to distract me. I was in the middle of sending her home, and she didn’t seem too keen to go. It worked, if so. She stayed at least another hour after that.’ She gave Melanie an accusing look. ‘That girl’s nothing but trouble so far.’
‘Stick with it,’ Melanie said. ‘You’ll appreciate her in the long run, just wait and see.’
‘Who did Bonnie say threatened her?’ asked Ben.
‘A neighbour who didn’t like their dogs. Mr Browning. He’s not there now. I can’t see how it could possibly be him doing it again.’
The name evidently meant nothing to Ben or Melanie.
‘Have you spoken to Joe?’ Simmy asked the girl. Throughout the past year or so, Melanie had been fed snippets of information about police investigations by Constable Joe Wheeler, with whom she was in a tepid relationship. The existence of at least two other aspirants to her affections made Joe’s position precarious; a situation he tried to improve by means of his inside knowledge. Combined with material from Ben’s brother’s mate in the mortuary, the flow of data had sometimes proved more than enough to maintain speculation that had occasionally proved significant.
‘No. I don’t see Joe any more, as you well know.’
‘Pity.’
‘Why did Bonnie go to the funeral?’ Ben wondered.
‘She was representing Corinne, who’s gone off suddenly to Lincoln. Didn’t she tell you? I saw you going off together. And what happened with Spike?’
‘We went to the pub and stayed about ten minutes. We weren’t really meant to be there.’ He jerked his shoulders as if shaking off an uncomfortable memory. ‘Spike was tied up to some railings when Bonnie went to help Valerie. We collected him before going to the pub. It was all a bit of a muddle.’ He sighed. ‘That woman’s a real basket case, if you want my opinion.’
‘Which woman? Valerie?’
Ben nodded. ‘Her dog was tied up as well. Somebody took it out when she collapsed, and kept it out of the way. It’s a big yellow thing, very protective.’
Simmy thought back to the mêlée she had blundered into, and how there had been no dogs in evidence. ‘That must have complicated things,’ she said.
‘Yeah. Especially as Spike and the other dog don’t get along. There was quite a bit of snarling.’ He shuddered. ‘I don’t get it, the way people are with their dogs. It’s unhealthy.’
‘No getting away from them, when it came to Barbara Hodge,’ said Melanie. ‘She was still ranting about all this kidnapping the day she died, apparently. She put it in the directions for her funeral – dogs welcome. Everyone’s been talking about it. You must have heard.’
Simmy shook her head. ‘I had no idea until Bonnie said something this morning about it.’
‘You ought to stay in the loop, Sim. This is a small town. It’s not difficult.’ Melanie was reproving.
‘It’s easy for you,’ Simmy defended. ‘You’re related to half of them, for a start.’
‘Control beyond the grave,’ said Ben sonorously.
‘What?’ Simmy turned irritably to him. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The Hodge woman. She had months and months to put everything in order, and she made good use of the time. It was all quite public. Nearly everyone got a personal letter from her – including my dad. As it happens, that’s sort of why I was there. Representing him.’
‘He’s a teacher, isn’t he? How did she come across him, when she hasn’t got any kids?’
‘She went to an adult class he was running, years ago. I don’t remember what it was, now. She knew everybody – that’s the point.’
‘Except me,’ said Simmy.
‘Okay.’ Ben squared his shoulders. ‘Back to basics. Tell me exactly what your dad overheard on Monday. It comes down to that, doesn’t it? And what did you both see?’
‘I don’t know exactly. He did tell me word for word at the time, but I can’t remember every detail now. Something about getting a job done on Tuesday while the old bloke was out, or away, or words to that effect. Dad thought it sounded like a plan for a burglary, because they said Tim could be the lookout. He was quite excited about it. I thought he was jumping to conclusions, and it could all be perfectly innocent. Then we saw two men in a red car driving away, towards Kirkstone.’
‘Flimsy,’ Ben judged. ‘Even if you both testified to all that, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to convict anybody of murder. Did he see them when they were speaking?’
Simmy shook her head. ‘They were on the other side of a wall.’
‘So a defence team could easily argue that it was two totally different men.’
Ben’s skill was always breathtaking. His mind ran twice as fast as other people’s and he instinctively looked for other angles. ‘He’s pretty sure they are the same,’ she said, already much less sure herself. ‘He saw a shadow of a cap with a peak, although I’m pretty sure neither of them had a hat when I saw them in the car. But we both thought they must be the same people, and he’d just taken his hat off before driving away.’
‘It’s not remotely useful as proof, though. The defence could use it as an argument on their
side.’
‘Well, I think it would be a huge coincidence if they were two completely different men.’
‘Maybe,’ he conceded. ‘But the man who’s trying to stop your dad testifying must think you saw or heard something more incriminating. Writing that threatening letter was stupid. Panicky. And if he’s that much of a fool, there isn’t much to worry about, is there?’
‘Even stupid people can burn a house down,’ said Melanie. ‘Or at least make quite a mess.’
‘It’s a stupid crime altogether. Fire gets out of control, people die, and it’s impossible to cover all your tracks.’ Ben was dismissive. Apparently arson provided few forensic challenges for the professionals.
‘Meanwhile, my dad’s been in a state because of it,’ Simmy insisted. ‘And now we can’t find him …’ Anguish flooded through her all over again. ‘Where is he? What’s happened to him?’
Neither youngster replied, and in the silence, Simmy heard the yapping dog again. ‘Where’s that coming from?’ she asked. ‘It sounds as if it’s somewhere high up.’
‘What?’ Melanie blinked. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘That dog. I heard it before you got here. It’s close by.’
‘Outside somewhere,’ said Melanie vaguely. ‘Tied up outside a shop.’
Ben went through to the back of the shop, making a big show of listening. The yapping had stopped, so he went to the street door and looked out. ‘Can’t see a dog,’ he reported, and then went very still. ‘But I can see something interesting. Come and look.’
Simmy and Melanie joined him. ‘What?’ asked Simmy.
‘That car.’ He pointed diagonally across the street to a red car parked in a spot where parking was not allowed. ‘It’ll get a ticket if it’s not careful.’
Simmy was slow to grasp the significance. ‘So?’
‘Look at it. It’s red, right. What make is it?’
‘I don’t know, Ben. I can’t see the logo thing.’
‘It’s a Renault Laguna,’ said Melanie carelessly. ‘One of my cousins has got one.’