Stolen

by Roberta Kray

  ‘What’s the point in both of us going? It’s better if we split up. You try the drive or look inside the house again. Perhaps she’s back now.’ And then, before he could protest, she walked away as quickly as she could in her high heels. Lolly held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t follow, and was relieved when she glanced over her shoulder to see him cutting across the lawn towards the drive.

  Lolly was certain Esther wouldn’t be anywhere near the lake but she’d go as far as the bench, stay a couple of minutes, make sure there was no sign of Mal and then go back. She kept her eyes peeled as she walked through the trees. The further she got from the house, the darker it became until the only light was from the moon. The sounds of the party, the music and the chatter gradually grew more distant. An uneasiness was starting to stir in her. It wasn’t like Esther to desert her guests, especially when she was the centre of attention.

  Lolly smelled the water before she saw it, an earthy musty odour. She continued along the path until the lake was revealed. Streaks of pale silver danced on the surface. A light breeze rustled through the reeds. She fought against all those bad feelings that creep up on you when you’re alone in a dark place, the most powerful of them being that you are not alone.

  Knowing that the bank could be slippery even when it hadn’t rained, she approached with caution. The willows shimmered in the moonlight. She glanced to her left and right. It was then she heard the noise. She couldn’t say exactly what it was, only that it didn’t belong here. The hairs on her arms stood on end. Her first instinct was to retreat, to run away, but instead she stood immobile.

  Gradually the noise turned into something identifiable, a low, soft kind of keening. Lolly trembled. Then, as if she had no choice in the matter, she moved to the right following the sound. One foot in front of the other until she reached the source. It was the whiteness she noticed first, spread out across the bank, standing out in the dark. Gradually, the rest came into focus, the long pale legs, the arms, the head thrown to one side, the face that was like alabaster. She drew in a breath, horrified. Esther. And beside her another figure, rocking back and forth, his arms wrapped around his knees.

  Mal looked up, his eyes full of grief and pain and fear. ‘She’s dead, Lita,’ he said. ‘She’s dead.’

  33

  Wednesday 21 September. West Henby

  For a moment, Lolly couldn’t speak, couldn’t react. Paralysed by shock, she stood and stared at the scene in front of her. Her mind made several swift connections – a body, a man beside the body, a violent act, a crime of anger or of passion.

  ‘Jesus,’ she murmured. ‘God, no.’

  ‘I didn’t kill her,’ he said, so softly she could barely hear. ‘I found her in the water.’

  Lolly, propelled by a surge of adrenalin, lurched forward and then hunched down beside him. She reached out her hand to touch the underside of Esther’s wrist. No pulse. The flesh was cold and wet and lifeless. Her gaze slid up to Esther’s face, the eyes partly open, glazed and unseeing. There were marks around her neck, bruises from where someone had tightened their fingers.

  ‘When? How did you . . . ?’ Lolly was having problems stringing a sentence together. She gulped in a breath and tried again. ‘When did you find her?’

  ‘I didn’t kill her.’

  ‘I believe you. When did you find her, Mal?’

  As if he couldn’t quite process what she was asking, a few seconds passed before he answered. ‘Not long. Five minutes. I heard people arguing, two, three, I’m not sure, but I know one of them was Esther. I was by the summerhouse. I could hear them but I couldn’t see anything. I thought there was a splash.’ He spoke quickly, his forehead puckering into a frown as he struggled to make sense of it all. ‘And then it went quiet. I stayed out of the way for a while in case . . . and then I walked along here and saw her. She was in the water, under the water, just here by the bank. I dragged her out but . . . ’

  ‘What were they arguing about? Do you know? Did you catch any of it?’

  Mal shook his head. ‘Just voices.’

  ‘Male, female? Come on, Mal, think.’ Lolly knew that unless he could provide another suspect, someone with a motive, the law would jump to the same conclusion she had. Even now she wasn’t completely sure of his innocence. She wanted to believe him, needed to, but just because he said he hadn’t killed her didn’t mean that it was true.

  Mal’s hand rested on Esther’s shoulder. ‘I can still remember the first time I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She’s still beautiful. She’s still—’

  Lolly gripped his arm, trying to convey a sense of urgency. She was starting to think about Jude and how long it would be before he came looking for her. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Do?’ He had the same look on his face that he’d worn in the courtroom, as if nothing really mattered any more, as if he’d lost the will to even bother to defend himself. ‘I suppose you’d better go and fetch someone. I’ll stay with her.’

  This was the point Lolly made up her mind. She suddenly knew that he couldn’t have killed Esther. He didn’t have it in him. Despite everything the woman had done, all the misery she’d inflicted, a part of him had carried on loving her. She was his wife, the mother of his child. Even in anger, he would not have put his hands around her throat.

  ‘I will,’ she said, ‘but you can’t stay here. Don’t you see how it’s going to look? They’ll lock you up and throw away the key.’

  ‘I’ll tell them what happened. I’ll tell the truth.’

  ‘You think they care about the damn truth? You’re on the run, you’re here and Esther’s dead. They won’t believe a word you say. She sent you to jail and now you’ve got your revenge. That’s how they’ll see it, Mal. You’ve got to get away.’

  ‘And go where? I’m not running. I can’t.’

  Lolly had to find a way to get through to him. Quickly she scrambled to her feet. ‘And what are you going to do if there is some truth in what Heather Grant says? You think your daughter’s going to visit you in jail? You’ll be banged up for years, Mal. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for her.’

  Mal’s gaze slid from Lolly to Esther and back to Lolly again. ‘But if I’m on the run I still won’t be able to see Kay.’

  ‘Not for a while, no. But once they’ve found out who really did this, you can hand yourself in, do whatever time you have to do. It won’t be that much. It’s a better option, isn’t it, than being stitched up for a crime you didn’t commit?’

  Slowly Mal stood up. He looked dazed and confused. ‘Do you think Kay’s still alive?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly. Lolly could see he wasn’t thinking straight and she wasn’t sure if she was either. What if she was urging him to do the wrong thing entirely? If he was caught near West Henby, it would look worse for him than if he’d stayed. But it was too late to start backtracking now. ‘The drive’s full of cars; they’re parked almost to the gate. Someone might have left their keys in. You’ll have to be careful, though. Jude might be around. Go the long way, through the trees.’

  ‘Perhaps I should just go over the wall.’

  Lolly nodded. ‘It’s up to you. I’ll give you as long as I can. I’ll get rid of the stuff in the summerhouse – no one needs to know you were ever here – and then I’ll go back to the house and raise the alarm.’ She suddenly thought of something else. ‘You’ll need money. God, your wallet was in your bedroom. I should have taken out the cash and . . . ’ But should haves weren’t much use now. She could only think of one other option. Taking the diamond ring off her finger she thrust it into Mal’s hand. Then she unclasped the ruby necklace and gave that to him too. ‘You should be able to raise some cash with these.’

  ‘I can’t—’

  ‘You can. You have to. Just take them, okay? Please.’

  Mal nodded and slipped them into his pocket. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do you remember my friend Stella’s address, where I stayed whe
n I went back to London?’

  ‘Albert Road,’ he said.

  ‘That’s it. Number twenty-four. Write to me there when you can, when you’re somewhere safe. Just in case the law start messing about with my mail.’ She leaned forward and gave him a quick hug. His clothes were wet and he smelled of the lake. ‘Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.’

  Mal didn’t move immediately. He gazed down at Esther as if by sheer force of will he could raise the dead.

  ‘Go!’ she insisted.

  And, finally, he did.

  34

  Wednesday 21 September. West Henby

  Mal went part way round the lake before moving into the trees and circling round to the front of the house. He had the same two thoughts revolving in his head: it was a mistake to run/to run was his only option. He could still change his mind, hand himself in to the police and explain how he had stumbled on Esther’s body. But Lita was right. They wouldn’t believe him. He’d be cuffed, charged and down the local nick before he even had time to protest his innocence.

  Esther was dead. It did not seem possible. Despite everything that had happened, all the drama, the betrayal, he had still been sure that one day they would reconcile. The ties that bound them had always been stronger than their differences. And now it was over. And now, if Kay had been found, she would never get to know her mother.

  He felt an ache in his chest like his heart was breaking.

  Mal ploughed on. He didn’t need to think about where he was going. He had grown up on this land and knew every inch of it. Over the wall or try for a car? He still hadn’t decided. But a car had to be a better bet. It would be tough going on foot and if the police brought out the dogs . . .

  When he could see the end of the drive he stopped and stared through the darkness. There was a security guard positioned by the gates, a bored-looking bloke in uniform, leaning against the pillar while he smoked a cigarette. He wasn’t worried about him. The guard’s job was to stop uninvited guests coming in, not to prevent anyone from leaving.

  Mal moved quietly back through the trees, only coming out into the open when he was parallel to the wide curve in the drive. This was the blind spot where he couldn’t be observed from the house or the gates. It was fortunate that the party was a big one and guests had been forced to park where they could. He cut across the grass and began to examine the cars, one by one. What he wanted was something solid, reliable and not too distinctive. But he would take what he could get.

  Mal wondered if he could actually hotwire a car. He’d had it explained to him in jail on numerous occasions – it didn’t seem too complicated – but theory and practice didn’t always coincide. To add to the difficulty there wasn’t much light. No, he’d be crazy to even try. Already the instructions about which wires to connect were blurring at the edges.

  As he hurried along the line, he glanced at each car to check that the keys hadn’t been left in the ignition. Lita’s idea was not as crazy as it might sound. People felt safe in an environment like this and didn’t always take the precautions they normally would. Tonight, however, no one was being careless. He was almost at the end of the curve, about to give up, when he suddenly hit the jackpot: a white Hunter with the keys left on the dashboard.

  He blinked hard, barely able to believe his luck. For a split second he thought he was imagining it, his mind playing tricks like a dying man in a desert stumbling on a mirage. Then he yanked the door open and climbed inside. He started the Hunter – there was half a tank of petrol – did a three-point turn and set off towards the gates. A gentle pace. Not too fast. Not like a fugitive running for his life. He kept the headlamps on full so the security guard would have trouble seeing him properly.

  Before he even reached the gates, the man heard the car coming and opened them. Mal swept through and turned right into the lane. He was breathing heavily, sweat pouring off him. Once he was clear of the house, he put his foot down and sped into the night.

  35

  Wednesday 21 September. West Henby

  Lolly knew she didn’t have much time. She took off her shoes and raced barefoot to the summerhouse. The door was unlocked and she dropped the shoes and barged straight in. The trouble was, it was dark, darker than outside and she had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust. In those seconds she wondered if she’d made a huge mistake. What had she just done? If Mal was caught nicking a car, driving a stolen car, leaving the scene of a crime, he’d look guilty as sin. And she’d be the one who was responsible.

  Before doubt could paralyse her, she set to work gathering everything up. She grabbed the rucksack and filled it with the clothes he’d left, the old boots, food, knife, water bottle. Was there anything else? Only the rug and that wouldn’t fit in. She folded it neatly and placed it on a chair. Hopefully, no one would remember where they last saw it.

  Lolly had one last check round, made sure nothing had been overlooked and then picked up the rucksack and took it outside. She locked the door and put her shoes back on, walked rapidly towards the bank and chucked the key into the water. It wouldn’t stop the police from getting into the summerhouse but there was no point in making it easy for them.

  Once this was done she scoured the ground for stones, the heavier the better. She piled them into the rucksack until she was sure it was heavy enough and then she lifted it up, swung it several times to get some momentum and flung it as forcefully as she could into the lake. It made a splash that sounded to her frightened ears as loud as an explosion.

  Lolly didn’t hang about. If she could have avoided seeing Esther’s body again, she would, but she didn’t have any choice in the matter. She had to get back to the house as fast as she could. How long had she been away for? It felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. Even that might be enough for the law to wonder what she’d been doing. The thought of the police, of all the questions, made her feel sick to the stomach.

  Lolly wanted to avert her eyes, to hurry past the body, but something made her stop. It felt wrong, disrespectful somehow, to not even look. Esther hadn’t been good to her, never kind, but she’d been a part of her life. She didn’t linger for long – there was nothing useful to be said or done – but she murmured a short prayer and crossed herself even though she wasn’t Catholic.

  It was a relief when the bench came into sight. By now everything was starting to catch up with her. The adrenalin had subsided to be replaced by brutal reality. She felt cold and shaky and her nerves were in tatters. How was Mal doing? If he’d managed to get hold of a car he could be miles away by now. He would still be a suspect but without evidence they couldn’t prove he was ever here.

  She listened out for footsteps coming in the opposite direction. Jude, she presumed, would still be searching. She had two choices: either she raised the alarm, said she’d found Esther’s body, or she waited for someone else to find it. Neither option was especially appealing but the latter, she decided, would give Mal more time. Although it wasn’t a pleasant thought leaving the body lying there, it was the living she had to think about now.

  From the bench it was only a short distance along the path and through the trees to where Nick was waiting but instead of going directly there she circled round to the front of the house, had a quick look down the drive – no sign of any commotion – went through the front door and joined the guests inside. She negotiated the length of the busy central hallway from one end of the house to the other, exited through the back door and walked down the steps to the lawn.

  Nick was sitting in the same place near the brazier, looking up at the stars. Lolly dropped down onto the grass beside him. Knowing that she would have to account for the time she’d been missing, not just to him but later to the law, she said, ‘Sorry, it’s packed in there. And Jude’s been running around looking for Esther. He can’t find her anywhere. I went down to the lake . . . well, as far as the bench, but she wasn’t there. I told him she wouldn’t be. And then I went to the loo and had to wait for ever.’
Did her voice sound weird, croaky? She cleared her throat. She’d only thought up the story five minutes ago. It wasn’t exactly watertight but it would have to do.

  ‘Yeah, there’s quite a crowd. I got you another drink. When do you think Esther’s going to make her grand announcement?’

  ‘Thanks.’ She had to stop herself from grabbing hold of the glass and downing it in one. ‘I don’t know. Whenever she feels like it, I suppose. I saw Rory Gill when I was inside, you know that actor who was in The Last Tycoon.’

  ‘I haven’t seen it. I always find Fitzgerald depressing.’

  Lolly tried to concentrate, tried to stop her gaze from darting towards the house every five seconds. Where was Jude? What was he doing? At some point, she presumed, he would go and search round the lake himself. She had a knot in her stomach. She knew what was coming and it filled her with dread. ‘Yes, he can be a touch dark.’

  ‘Is that the one about the film industry?’

  ‘That’s it. Hollywood.’ She racked her brains for something more interesting to say but couldn’t come up with anything. In the event she didn’t need to. A piercing sound came from beyond the trees, half scream, half yowl, like an animal in torment.

  And Lolly knew the waiting was over.

  36

  Wednesday 21 September. West Henby

  It didn’t take long for the police to arrive. They swarmed over the grounds, secured the crime scene, blocked the gates and rounded up the guests. News of the killing created clamour and panic, outrage and tears. Faces quickly filled with shock and disbelief. For Lolly it all had a dreamlike quality. She knew she had to keep her wits about her but her wits felt blunt and useless.

  Esther was dead. Esther had been murdered.

  The guests and staff were herded into a couple of the downstairs rooms, their names and addresses written down. No one was supposed to leave the house but it wasn’t long before senior officers were being lobbied, phone calls made and strings pulled by the more influential of the partygoers. Whatever pity they felt for Esther was outweighed by their desire not to be inconvenienced.