Looking down from her vantage point on the rocks, something caught her attention up ahead. Craning her neck she stared, hardly able to believe her eyes. The next moment she was climbing over the rocks, careless of her own safety.
‘Mum!’ she yelled, breathless with disbelief. ‘Mum! Is that you? Mum!’
Her foot slipped and she twisted her ankle. Slowing down, she picked her way more carefully over the rocks, glancing up every few seconds to make sure the figure she had seen had not vanished. The woman was still there, lying on the sand, her position unaltered. She looked as though she was asleep. A terrible thought struck Lucy.
‘Mum!’ she screamed in alarm. ‘Mum! Wake up!’
Reaching the sand at last, she scrambled down from the last boulder and raced over to the motionless figure. Wearing the remains of a torn bikini, the body looked barely human. The face was horribly mutilated. The eyelids, ears and tip of the nose were missing, eaten away by fish, and the skin on the bloated body was mottled black and white. Despite her abhorrence, Lucy felt an overriding relief that the drowned woman was not her mother. She studied the misshapen figure, fascinated and repelled in equal measure. Looking more closely she thought the dead woman had probably been quite young, with short blonde hair not unlike her own. Pulling out her phone, she was not sure what number to dial for the emergency services. She did not even have the police inspector’s card on her. With trembling fingers, she phoned the hotel and asked for Adrian. She could have cried with relief when his voice came on the line. He undertook to alert the police and speak to her father, and offered to pick her up.
‘The police will find the body easily enough, and it might be better for you and your father if we keep you out of it, with everything else that’s going on at the moment. Why don’t you stay put and let me come and get you? It’s not a good idea to go climbing around on the rocks by yourself at the best of times.’
She did not remonstrate at the criticism. He was right. ‘I’m fine. I’ll wait for you here. I won’t go anywhere.’
‘Good. And don’t worry about your father. I’ll look after him. You just stay put.’
Lucy thanked him, and he rang off at once. She went over and leaned against the rocks to wait. Once again Adrian had helped her, but she could hardly accuse him of being involved in this incident. Curiosity overcame her revulsion, and she approached the body to take another look. Caught up in a strand of seaweed, she discerned a charm bracelet wound around the dead girl’s wrist. She stared at it in terrible fascination, recognising the letters interspersed with tiny bells. There was no doubt that she was looking at the bracelet that Judy had shown her just a few days earlier. It was horrible to think of that vivacious girl reduced to this hideous mound of dead flesh. Shaken by a sudden wave of nausea, she ran up the beach and vomited under the trees. It should have made no difference to her that she had met the dead girl, talked and laughed with her. Death was appalling, irrespective of the individual’s identity. But until she had realised who it was, she had not really registered this misshapen lump had once been a living, breathing human being. Now that she knew who it was, Lucy even recognised Judy’s red and blue bikini. Only her poor distorted face was unrecognisable.
Going back to kneel on the sand beside the body, she spoke softly to the dead girl. ‘You poor thing, you’re never going to find a rich sugar daddy now, are you?’ Gently she picked a few small white petals out of Judy’s hair and brushed her straggly fringe out of her hideous eye sockets. All of a sudden, she started back as though she had been stung. Right in the centre of Judy’s forehead was a small round black hole. She had not drowned. She had been shot. Lucy sprang to her feet and looked around. She had already been attacked in the water and among the rocks. Judy and she looked very similar. It seemed likely that she, not Judy, had been the intended victim of this murder.
21
ADRIAN WAS BETTER THAN his word. Within a few minutes Lucy was relieved to hear a car draw up nearby and the sound of someone crashing through the trees.
‘There you are,’ he panted. ‘Thank goodness. Come on!’ Without a word of explanation, he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her up the beach and through densely packed trees to where his car was waiting, with the engine running. As they drove off, they heard sirens approaching.
‘I hope I did the right thing,’ he said. ‘I told your dad you were stranded on rocks and I was coming to show you the way back to the road.’
‘But—’
‘It was the best I could come up with at the time. Don’t panic, I didn’t say you’d done anything stupid, or were in any danger. The opposite, in fact. I said you thought you could get back quite easily by yourself, but you didn’t want to take any chances so you were playing it safe, calling me.’
‘So you could be the hero, and rescue me again?’
‘Would you rather I’d told him the truth?’ he asked, sounding exasperated. ‘Hasn’t he got enough to worry about?’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. But he’s going to find out I was there, isn’t he? I mean, the police will want to know what happened, and what I was doing there, and—’ She began to cry at the enormity of what had happened.
‘The police don’t know you were there. I told them that a passerby had reported seeing a body and that was all I knew. I thought it best to keep you out of it. There’s nothing you can say to help the situation. The poor girl’s dead, and,’ he sighed, ‘I’m afraid this happens from time to time. People go swimming where it’s not safe, on their own, and sometimes they drown. I just think you’ve got enough going on right now without getting grilled about some random girl drowning.’
‘It wasn’t a random girl, and she didn’t drown.’ Breaking down in tears, Lucy told him about Judy. ‘She didn’t drown. She was shot.’
‘What?’ Adrian slammed on the brakes and turned to her. He looked frightened. ‘Do you want to tell me what you’re talking about? And what the hell I’ve just lied to the police about?’
With an effort, Lucy pulled herself together. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any tissues?’
Adrian shook his head. She wiped her dripping nose on her shirt and began. She told him everything, from her abortive encounter with the fishermen, to the moment when she had recognised Judy’s bracelet, and seen the bullet hole in her forehead.
‘The thing is,’ she concluded miserably, ‘I think whoever killed her might have thought she was me.’
‘Who might have thought who was you? Sorry, but you’re not making sense again.’
Lucy took a deep breath and listed the attacks that had taken place on her family. ‘Not just me, but there’s the intruder in my father’s room, and of course my mother—’ She broke off and blew her nose on her shirt again. ‘So I think whoever shot Judy must have mistaken her for me . . .’
Adrian looked troubled. He spoke gently. ‘Lucy, I know it’s very hard for you right now, with your mother going missing, but you have to see things in perspective. Not everything that happens is about you and your family. It might seem like it right now, but you’ve got to get a grip. Terrible things happen, and there’s often no reason for it. People go swimming and occasionally they drown.’ He smiled anxiously at her. ‘You’d better wash your face before your father sees you.’
As he drove off, he asked her quietly if she was sure Judy had been shot. Lucy tried to describe the injury she had seen on Judy’s head. Never having seen a real bullet wound, she could not be sure Judy had been shot. She might have drowned after all. The hole in her head could have been made by some sort of fish. Listening to Adrian’s calm words, Lucy could not help thinking she must have been mistaken. It seemed impossible to believe Judy had really been shot.
Her father was quiet at breakfast. Dazed and shocked, and tired after their disturbed night, Lucy could not interpret his state of mind. It was difficult to see his expression through his sunglasses. He seemed cheerful enough, although she noticed he only picked at a plate of fruit while she ate.
‘Dad,’ she began and paused, uncertain how to tell him about her own confusing encounters with an unknown assailant. She resumed, wanting to hear his perspective on what had happened. ‘I think I’ve been targeted too.’
Her father nodded. ‘Yes, I know. This affects us all.’
‘No, I don’t just mean what’s going on with you and Mum.’ She paused. They had no idea what had happened to her mother. She lowered her voice. ‘I think someone’s been trying to kill me.’
Her father did not even turn to look at her as she told him how she had almost drowned.
‘So you nearly drowned, and Adrian rescued you?’ was all her father said when she finished. ‘I hope you thanked him.’
‘Yes, of course I did. But what I’m saying is that I think someone pulled me under.’
‘Did you see who it was?’
‘Well, no, I didn’t actually see anyone there.’
Her father frowned. ‘What did Adrian say about it? He was there.’
Lucy sighed. ‘He thought it was the current.’
Her father nodded. ‘I’m sure that’s what it was. The currents can be very strong round here. You have to be careful, Lucy. Promise me you won’t swim too far out. Even if you’re not out of your depth a strong undercurrent can sweep you off your feet. Promise me you’ll be more careful.’
‘I promise.’
She launched into a description of her walk along the beach, and the rock fall, but she could see her father’s attention was wandering. There was no point in continuing. Her father was not going to believe that had been a deliberate attempt on her life, any more than he believed she had been attacked by someone swimming beneath her in the ocean. It was time she stopped bothering him with her worries and uncertainties, and began to work out her problems for herself.
When they finished their coffee, her father leaned back in his chair and announced his intention of returning to the police station after breakfast to find out if there had been any progress.
‘I know they said they’d let us know if there was any news, but there’s nothing like putting in a personal appearance.’
He was pleased when Lucy offered to accompany him. She thought he was becoming more uneasy than ever about letting her out of his sight. After leaving a message that her father was to be contacted if his wife reappeared, they set off. Lucy was relieved that they were driving into the town, away from the coast where every view of the beach reminded her of Judy’s body. Somehow the mutilated face seemed more harrowing now than when she had first seen it lying on the sand. Whenever she thought about it, she felt sick. But she said nothing, aware that Adrian had lied to the police because of her. If she told her father, he would only worry more about Angela. Perhaps he would insist she admitted everything to the police, which might get Adrian into trouble. Uneasy about lying to the police, she had gone too far to confess the truth now without stirring up more problems.
The heat of the day was building up. The humidity was oppressive and it was a relief to be bowling along the coastal road with the air conditioning on full blast. As they drove, the sky grew overcast. Lucy’s father predicted a storm would hit the island. A few seconds later a bolt of lightning flashed over the ocean, followed by a crash of thunder. Lucy cried out. Then the rain fell. They had to pull over to the side of the road. It was impossible to see through the windscreen, even with the wipers on full speed.
‘Is it safe in the car?’ Lucy asked, but the lightning did not strike again and the sound of thunder grew fainter.
The road into Victoria wound round several sharp hairpin bends so her father decided to wait until the rain eased off. As they sat in the car watching the rain, he assured Lucy that such violent tropical storms never lasted long, and after a few moments the noise of rain drumming on the roof faded. He turned the wipers on and the windscreen cleared. Only a few stray splashes of rain streaked the glass. Looking round, Lucy was surprised to see that it was still pelting on the other side of the road. An invisible glass wall appeared to cut them off from the downpour a couple of feet away. Her father was amused when she was afraid the engine had caught fire. He pointed out steam rising from the ground all around them.
By the time they reached the police station in Victoria, the clouds had cleared. The sun beat down on them with its customary ferocity, and the ground was dry as they crossed the road to the police station. Her father announced his name at the Enquiries desk and a policeman behind the desk looked up blankly.
‘My name is George Hall,’ he repeated, sounding slightly put out that the policeman did not appear to recognise his name. ‘I’m here about my wife. We reported her missing two days ago. We’re English tourists.’
The officer nodded. It was not clear which part of the statement he was acknowledging. Instructing them to wait, he picked up the phone and began to jabber in French. He spoke too quickly for Lucy to pick out more than a few words: ‘ici . . . anglais . . . maintenant . . . attend.’
‘Inspector Henri will be here soon,’ the policeman told them as he hung up. ‘He asks that you take a seat and wait for him. He is very busy.’
The tall inspector arrived shortly afterwards. He led them across the courtyard to his office.
‘Mr Hall, we have been conducting an extensive search for your wife,’ he began, an anxious smile stamped on his face.
Lucy observed her own disappointment in her father’s face before his head drooped forward.
‘Conducting a search,’ he repeated flatly. ‘Have you found anything, Inspector, anything at all?’
The policeman shrugged his shoulders, raising his hands in the air.
‘Your wife has been missing for three days.’
‘Yes.’
‘Although you did not report her absence until two days ago.’
‘Well obviously we didn’t come here the minute we noticed she’d gone,’ Lucy’s father snapped.
Lucy could hear the frustration in his voice and glanced at his face, flushed with anger. Ignoring his evident vexation, the policeman smiled at him, perhaps intending to reassure him that everything was under control.
‘We are uncovering the moss,’ he said cryptically. ‘Such investigations take time. It does not help that she is unknown on the island. No one can tell us her movements, who are her friends, where she is likely to go.’
‘I would have thought that would make her stand out more, and make her easier to trace,’ Lucy said.
The policeman turned to her for an instant, as though uncertain whether she was challenging him, before he turned back to her father. ‘We have carried out a massive search, I assure you.’
‘What exactly have you done?’ Lucy asked. ‘Have helicopters been sent to search the coast and inland as well, in case she got lost on the hills? And have you been asking in all the hotels, and questioned everyone in the local community? We’d like to know,’ she added quickly, afraid she might antagonise the policeman if she was too outspoken. ‘It’s just that, like you said, no one here knows my mother except us, and obviously we want to do whatever we can to assist your police investigation.’
The policeman raised his eyebrows. ‘Police investigation?’ he repeated. ‘I am not aware a crime has been committed in this instance.’
‘My wife’s been abducted and you don’t think a crime has been committed!’ her father shouted, losing his temper.
The inspector shook his head. Nothing seemed to rattle him. Lucy felt a sudden urge to leap across the room and slap the smile from his smug face.
‘We do not know there has been an abduction. Your wife is not a child that we should be so frightened. Mahé is not London.’ He leaned forward confidentially. ‘It can happen sometimes that a woman likes to take time for herself, to reflect on her life. Here on the island people make many discoveries about themselves. It may be that your wife is – how shall I say it? – discovering herself. I am hopeful your wife will return to you very soon. In the meantime, we will continue to enquire and will inform you if we receive news of h
er. The case is by no means closed, although the search will diminish now, after seventy-two hours. I assure you we are following the usual protocol in this, but we cannot continue to devote all our resources to this case.’
‘However much manpower you are devoting to the search, it’s not enough,’ Lucy’s father replied.
The inspector raised his eyebrows and heaved a loud sigh. ‘I assure you we are doing what we can, but we have another case on our hands that I am afraid is taking precedence over everything else.’
‘Precedence over my wife going missing? I don’t think so.’
The policeman vacillated for a second before leaning forward in his chair. He spoke rapidly in a low voice.
‘You may not have yet heard that a body was discovered here on the island only today. You will no doubt read about it in the papers before long, the body of a girl found on the beach early this morning.’
Lucy’s father nodded grimly. ‘Yes, someone at the hotel told us. It’s terrible, of course, but in the meantime, my wife is still missing and possibly in danger. That girl is dead. Unless you want another woman to be killed here, you need to make my wife’s disappearance your number one priority.’
The inspector hesitated. He stared hard at Lucy’s father and heaved a deep sigh.
‘We have reason to suspect the girl died from unnatural causes. I am unable to tell you more. But you understand, we are now most busy investigating this death. We need to catch the killer as a matter of extreme urgency. It may be that more lives are in danger, including that of your wife.’
The words echoed inside Lucy’s head. Her mother had gone missing and now a girl had been found, murdered. She bit her lip, wary of letting slip how much she knew about Judy’s death.
Journey to Death Page 13