Death by Dark Waters

by Jo Allen

‘Sorry if I’ve let you down. Because I know you think it was Randolph, but I can’t believe it.’

  Max pulled her closer, crushing her. He was a lean man, lithe and strong, and he used the power of both his embrace and his personality to lock her into his orbit. She belonged to him, and he’d never let her forget it. ‘You haven’t let me down. I love you, and I always will. Whatever happens.’

  She shivered at that. Pressing her face into his shoulder, she clung to him a moment longer before she stepped away to cast a nervous glance towards the gate and make sure that Laurie was keeping all comers at bay. He wasn’t. ‘Max. Look.’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ Max couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. Life was enough of a trial without this. ‘You didn’t invite your sister to come? What were you thinking of?’

  ‘No. I didn’t. I told you. I told everyone I wanted to be alone. With you. With Sophie.’

  ‘Why does she always come butting in?’ Max drew a frustrated hand across his forehead. He’d never got on with Nicole. Dawn herself presented enough of a challenge to him but Nicole, always so determined that she knew what was best for everyone and resisting anyone who argued otherwise, was a complication he wasn’t geared up to face. ‘Laurie will see her off. Just stay out of sight.’

  Nicole was on the path at the gate, and if the body language was anything to go by she was winning. Laurie might, if called upon, prove a match for a baton wielding thug or two, but it was evident that he had no weapons sufficient to repel a woman in her fifties who didn’t understand the meaning of the word no. ‘I don’t want him to see her off.’

  ‘You said you didn’t want her here.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. I’ll go and invite her in.’ Dawn moved towards the door.

  ‘No. Tell her to go away. I know she means well, but that woman is a tornado. What we need now is calm. Think of Sophie.’

  ‘Sophie loves her Auntie Nic. It’ll be good for her. She might find it easier to talk to her than she does to us.’

  He gave up. ‘If it’s what you want. But you can expect me to take to my study for long periods. And make damned sure your sister knows she’s not allowed in there. A man needs time in peace.’

  *

  Yes, she’d wanted to be alone but the sight of her sister, her face full of fury and compassion alongside the determination, suddenly brought home to Dawn the need for someone in addition to her husband to help her get through this nightmare. Leaving Max in the living room, she ran lightly through the house and down the garden path to where Laurie was making his heroic last stand, arms folded, in front of the gate. Across the road, a couple of tourists paused under their umbrellas to gaze at the scene. ‘I have instructions to let no one in unless they’re expected. Your name isn’t on my list.’

  ‘Not on your list? What is this? The VIP suite at Annabel’s? I’m Mrs Sumner’s sister. I don’t need an invitation and I’d be insulted if I had to produce one.’

  ‘I have my instructions.’

  ‘All right.’ Nicole took her hands off her hips and sighed. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have been sarcastic. I’m on edge. But maybe you could ask—’

  ‘It’s okay, Laurie.’ Dawn reached the gate and defused her sister’s fury with a smile and an outstretched am. ‘You can let Nicole in.’

  He stepped aside. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Sumner. I didn’t realise.’

  ‘No, you were quite right. We weren’t expecting Nicole, but she’s always welcome.’ When the path was clear, she stepped forward to catch her sister up in her arms. ‘Nic. I’m so glad you’re here.’ The tears that had threatened her earlier welled up again, but she fought them back. Nicole was a comfort, and her presence would give Dawn herself some space to grieve in private.

  ‘Dawn. I’m so sorry. You should’ve let me come up straight away. I said to Mum that you’d need someone but she was adamant that you’d said not to come.’

  ‘I did say that. I thought I wanted to be alone.’

  ‘I get that, but surely you need people around you who care about you. Look at you.’ Nicole’s soft brown eyes reviewed her sister’s grief until Dawn became uncomfortably aware of her own chaotic appearance. Nicole, casually dressed in jeans, nevertheless had not a single, subtly coloured hair out of place.

  ‘I have Max and Sophie.’ Dawn touched her cheek. Not even a touch of make-up. She’d look like a ghost, and these days she never dared to go near a mirror.

  ‘Yes, but they need help, too. You need people who can help take the pressure off. I’ll make your life easier for you, if I can. I’ve taken next week off work, so you can’t send me back.’ Still with her arm around Dawn, Nicole took charge, steering her sister back towards the house.

  A week. Max would struggle with that, and Dawn herself would be relegated into third place in the pecking order while her sister and husband fought for precedence over her. It was as well Max never brought his business tactics into his private life. As much as Nicole might infuriate him, he’d be polite.

  ‘Nicole. Welcome.’ Max had given in, his voice underpinned with weary resignation. ‘Should I rustle up some lunch?’

  ‘I can do that, Max.’ She gave him a hug, too, but it was a peremptory one, devoid of any warmth, like a business contract. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. Have the police tracked anyone down yet?’

  The prospect of lunch, going over and over the same old things, was a dizzying, nauseous one. In its place, Dawn craved fresh air and solitude. ‘I don’t think I could eat anything. But obviously—’

  ‘Well, why don’t I take Sophie out for lunch, then? It’ll give you some time to yourselves. Where is she, anyway?’

  ‘Up in her room. If you take her out, get her to leave that bloody phone behind.’ Max grimaced.

  ‘I told you she was too young for a phone. You need to keep children away from these devices for as long as you can. They should be outside, playing, and getting into trouble.’

  ‘Like Greg, you mean?’ Max said it before Dawn could, so he was the one who had to take the blame for Nicole’s stricken expression.

  ‘No. No, of course not like that. Obviously you did everything right by him. You can’t legislate for—’

  ‘For evil bastards who kill a child and let his parents believe he’s still alive? No. You can’t.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  She would be saying it all week, because there were so many traps for a bystander to fall into with the bereaved, and Nicole’s determination was unleavened by tact. Dawn hastened to take the sting out of Max’s comment. It wouldn’t be the only time he’d lash out in response to grief. ‘Nic, it’s okay.’

  ‘And to go back to my question. Have the police found out who it is?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Max and Dawn spoke simultaneously, she in the negative, he in the affirmative.

  ‘I say no,’ Dawn said, suddenly tired, ‘because they’ve put out a warrant for Randolph’s arrest.’ For once she carried on talking over her sister’s exclamation. ‘They seem to think he did it, but I can’t believe he did.’

  ‘Whereas I find it hard to believe that Flett actually did it, but, unlike Dawn, I’m prepared to believe the unthinkable.’ Max tossed his wife an indulgent smile, one that said, We’re on the same side here. ‘The police seemed very competent. And what was it Sherlock Holmes said? “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”’

  ‘That assumes they’ve eliminated the impossible.’ It wasn’t that Dawn didn’t want Greg’s killer caught – far from it. It was that she desperately didn’t want it to be Randolph, and it was impossible, for her, that it could be.

  ‘I have the greatest faith in DCI Satterthwaite and his team.’ Max said it without a trace of irony, and then he turned away. ‘Run up and see Sophie, then, Nicole. I’m sure an afternoon out will do her good. But either take one of my people with you, or stay somewhere secure.’

  ‘We’ll drive do
wn into Windermere. The place is heaving.’ She disappeared up the stairs.

  ‘If you don’t mind…’ Dawn began tentatively, knowing what her husband would say ‘… I think I’d like to go for a walk as well.’

  ‘Dawny. I can’t come with you. I’ve so much to do. I need to go back down to Preston this evening – there’s a function I can’t miss.’

  ‘A function? At a time like this?’

  ‘Don’t think I’m heartless. I’ve put it off endlessly. I need to close a deal and this is the last chance. There’s a drinks do on this evening and I have to go. I’ll stay over in Formby. There’s a couple of things I have to pick up from home. But I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘At least I have Nicole.’ Her first reaction, desperate disappointment, was swiftly replaced by another – excitement. Max was the man who drove the relationship but she herself could recognise an opportunity when one presented itself. ‘But just now I need to get out.’ That was what she’d said to Ashleigh. She wouldn’t get the chance of going to her favourite, secret place this afternoon, but she could get away from the constant watch of the men at the front and the back of the house. ‘I can walk down the lake path. It’s always busy. No one will hurt me there.’

  He weighed the suggestion up. He’d have work he wanted to do, things he needed to catch up on. ‘You’d have to be very careful.’

  ‘I promise you I will.’

  ‘And don’t be long.’

  ‘I’ll be half an hour.’

  Unhooking her raincoat from the rack in the hall, she shrugged it on, zipping it up as she let herself out of the front door and walked down the path, passing the bemused Laurie on the way. ‘I’m just going out. Mr Sumner knows about it. You have permission to panic if you don’t see me in half an hour.’ She gave him an encouraging smile, to make up for the bruised ego he must surely have suffered in his encounter with Nicole.

  Half an hour wasn’t long, but it was enough for her purposes. The rain had already eased, the sun had returned and steam rose from the tarmac of the road as the Lakes began their return to searing summer. She hurried down to the lakeside path and walked along it as rapidly as she could, pausing at the first seat she came to, under the still dripping trees. For the first time in weeks, the air was fresh and clean, devoid of the stench of smoke. She’d forgotten how clear it could be, forgotten how beautiful the smell was of trees after rain.

  In front of her, the lake was grey, its surface quivering irritably in the breeze. Hands shaking, like an addict waiting for a fix, she got out her phone and flicked her fingers rapidly across the screen.

  I’m sorry. I couldn’t reply before. Max might find out.

  A moment ticked by. She shouldn’t have texted, but the opportunity was too good to miss. Hating the secrecy, she feared the thought of Max’s temper more. She didn’t dare speak in case someone was behind her, overhearing, in case Laurie and his mate had been paid to spy on, as well as protect, her. In a moment, the message came back.

  I understand.

  I need to see you.

  The reply didn’t come instantly. She stared at the phone and then, when it rang, jumped in terror before she answered it. ‘Max! Has something happened?’

  ‘No, sweetheart. I was just checking you’re all right.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just a bit on edge. But I’m glad to get out. I need to breathe.’ And she did, more deep, clean drags of fresh air.

  ‘Okay. Sorry if I’m being paranoid.’ The phone pinged again. ‘What’s that?’

  She looked down at it. ‘It’s just a text. Sophie.’ Her mouth was dry; she was a bad liar.

  Can you get away this evening?

  ‘I’ll be back in half an hour, Max. Love you.’

  ‘Love you, Dawny.’

  She cut off the call, went back to the text.

  I’ll try. I know a little place, at Brothers Water. You know it, too. Can you get there?

  I know it. Be there at seven.

  I’ll be there.

  And, the arrangement made, she deleted the texts.

  She still had the rest of her half an hour of freedom to do what she wanted and be what she really was. Feeling in her pockets, she got out her pack of tarot cards. She’d so love to read the cards for Ashleigh, was so taken with her. You’d only to look at her to see that she had an intriguing future and a complicated past and, no matter how she made light of it, she believed in the messages of the cards, even if she didn’t know she did.

  But Dawn wouldn’t do that without the girl’s permission. Instead she’d read for herself. It was something else she wouldn’t do when Max was around. Though he humoured her and tolerated her – and had given her the gold pendant of the Wheel of Fortune, symbolising the luck they’d have together – he didn’t believe.

  Her courage faltered as she held the pack in her hands. How could there be a good reading when Randolph was in trouble, about to be falsely arrested for murder and charged so that the killer would go free? But the temptation to seek guidance was irresistible. She just needed one card. Just one, to keep her going, to see her through.

  She shuffled the pack. A family – parents, a set of small twins, a smaller, complaining child wrapped up in a raincoat and of indeterminate gender – came along the path and she waited for them to go by. There was no stillness in such a public place, but it was the best she could hope for. When they’d gone, and the sounds that surrounded her were no louder than a distant motor boat and the chattering of a crow up in the trees, she cut the cards.

  The Three of Swords. She smiled at it, but it was a bittersweet smile. Was there a worse card, or one that better represented her life as it stood? Pain, emotional trauma. You should let go of responsibility for things you can’t change.

  Were they talking about Greg, or about Randolph? Or both? She laid a hand on them, relaxed. The past was all very well, but it was the future that concerned her most. Concentrating, she opened her mind and let the cards speak to her. There would be the end of an important relationship. There would be trauma. There would be more loss. But the path was clear for future happiness.

  She replaced the cards in the box, thrust it into her handbag, and headed for home.

  21

  ‘Where the hell is the man?’

  ‘Jude. Calm down.’ Doddsy was at his shoulder, rolling his eyes. ‘Yeah, it’s frustrating. But did you really think they’d run the guy to earth in an hour? It’s Saturday afternoon. Most of us aren’t where we’d normally be at this time of the day.’

  It was half past two. Jude sighed. He wasn’t where he’d expected to be, either. He’d planned on being at Brunton Park with his father for the Saturday afternoon football, their shared love of the beautiful game and the sometimes less-than-lovely Carlisle United the only part of the relationship that allowed them to laugh together. He took a moment to flick a quick text.

  Not going to make the match. Something came up. Sorry. Will call later.

  ‘You know what troubles me, Doddsy? If he’s a man with a grudge that made him kill – and made him act out of character – how do we know he won’t do it again?’

  ‘We don’t.’

  ‘I think I’m going down to Windermere again. I want to know if there’s anything more they can tell us. What do you reckon, Ashleigh? A pretty strange set up?’

  She’d been sitting staring into space, thinking – productively, he hoped – and at that she got up and crossed the room to join them as they stood in front of the whiteboard. ‘Yes. There’s something not quite right, isn’t there?’

  ‘You’re our resident psychic,’ he said, before he could stop himself. ‘What do you reckon?’

  She turned reproachful blue eyes on him. ‘Seriously, Jude? Next thing we know you’ll be asking Mystic Meg in to sort this for you. That isn’t how we solve these things.’

  ‘It was a joke. I was referring to your intuitive judgement. As you’re the family liaison officer, I wondered if there was anything there that you think we might
have missed.’

  ‘You don’t need me to tell you that it’s a very unhappy household.’

  ‘Naturally. They’ve lost a child and they’re probably in fear of their lives.’

  ‘Not enough in fear to let you do anything about it, though.’ Doddsy rubbed a finger over a bestubbled chin, his one rebellion against weekend working. ‘Anyone else would be wanting police protection officers holding their hands when they went to the loo, but our friend Sumner thinks he can manage with a heavy at the front gate and the back.’

  ‘It’s about peace of mind.’ Ashleigh smiled at him. ‘Max Sumner isn’t hard to read. Not in that respect. He trusts them because he pays them, and he doesn’t trust us because we aren’t working to his rules. Peace of mind comes from trust. That’s all.’

  ‘And how else do you read Max Sumner?’ For something to do, Jude pinned the e-fit of Randolph Flett up on the board next to an older picture that Chris had exhumed from a cached page on a long defunct website, and stared at the two. Though subtly different, they were recognisably the same person. Flett didn’t have much of a digital presence. His present company, such as it was, had no website, only an email address, and no one was answering the phone. He wasn’t at home, and his neighbours hadn’t seen him for a week. He was quiet, unassuming and kept himself to himself, or so everybody said. Which didn’t help Jude at all.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ashleigh frowned at the board in perplexity. ‘He’s a bit of a puzzle.’

  ‘Is the Sumners’ marriage in trouble?’

  ‘I don’t think so. They look out for each other all the time. They show a certain level of affection. He’s a domineering man, but he doesn’t bully her. She lets him get his way most of the time and he lets her get her way in the things that are really important to her.’

  ‘Having an FLO, for example. He was really resistant to that.’

  ‘Yes. It’s the trust thing again.’

  She picked at a curl that should have been scraped back off her face and he stared at it in fascination, watching her twirl it round her finger until he caught Doddsy looking at him, and turned away. ‘Dawn trusts you.’