The Restless Dead

25

Lundy prodded with his foot at a piece of charred timber that lay in the sodden grass. The remains of Edgar’s house were blackened and roofless against a grey sky. Except for the walls not much of the structure remained. Most of the top floor had gone, leaving only a windowless brick shell.

The air was thick with the stink of wet soot and burnt wood. A tall sycamore close to the house was charred and scorched, half its branches reduced to charcoal. Heat still radiated from the house, and the ground in front of it was littered with scorched debris. Lundy looked at it and sighed.

‘I hate fires. Between the fire brigade and the blaze there’s bugger all left afterwards.’

At least no one had been inside this one. ‘Was there much left to search?’

‘Not in the house. We’d pretty much done with that, so we were waiting for more equipment to start clearing the garden. But it’d be nice to have it left in one piece.’

Coker had made a thorough job of destroying Edgar’s home. The petrol had ensured there was little left for the fire teams to save once they arrived. They’d tried anyway, two engines blocking the lane at the end of the track while their hoses poured water on to the flames. Then they’d set about raking the smouldering remnants of furniture and cages outside so the fire couldn’t start up again.

Lundy hadn’t been out to Edgar’s the night before. I’d decided against calling him. Even if there’d been a phone signal anywhere near the burning house, there was no point disturbing him at home when he’d learn about the fire soon enough anyway. He’d want to hear about the photograph of Mark Chapel, but that wasn’t so urgent it couldn’t wait till morning. And that would give Rachel an opportunity to tell him about the sea fort. It would be better coming from her than me.

After giving the police my statement, I’d left the firefighters still bringing the blaze under control and driven back to the boathouse. I’d slept badly, but by the time I got up one thing at least was clear in my mind.

I knew I couldn’t go back to London without talking to Rachel again.

I’d rehearsed what I was going to say, and felt my frustration mount when her phone went straight to voicemail. I’d started to leave the usual bland message and then stopped.

‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I can’t explain now, but… I was wrong, OK? Call me.’

Ending the call, I’d screwed up my face. Bloody fool, is that the best you could do? But it was done now. I’d been about to call Lundy next, but he beat me to it. He was on his way to Edgar’s house to view the damage, he told me. Could I meet him there?

‘You can tell me all about it then,’ he’d said.

I’d got to the house first, and been kept behind a new cordon of police tape by a PC until Lundy arrived. He’d seemed subdued, and still did now as he regarded the burnt-out house.

‘Were there any animals still inside?’ I asked.

‘No, the RSPCA and RSPB came out yesterday morning and took them away. And the ones he’d kept in the garden. They said it was like he’d triaged them, keeping the sickest inside and the ones that weren’t so bad out here.’

That didn’t sound like the behaviour of someone who’d rescue a girl and then turn into a crazed killer once he got her home. ‘What about Coker? Will he be charged?’

Lundy sighed, regarding the house again. ‘No way round it after what he did.’

‘There were mitigating circumstances. I saw him; he wasn’t in his right mind.’

‘Doesn’t change what he did.’ He shrugged, as though realizing he sounded uncharacteristically harsh. ‘I’m sure it’ll be taken into account. But we can’t ignore something like this, regardless of what state of mind he was in.’

‘And the angle grinder I saw in his truck?’

‘The lab hasn’t found any blood or bone tissue on it, and it’d be a bugger to clean off if he used it on someone’s face. There’d still be traces. And Coker having power tools is neither here nor there. So do I, come to that. We’ll search his yard, but I doubt we’ll find much.’

‘Has he said anything?’

‘Only that he’s sorry Holloway wasn’t in the house. As a father I can’t say I blame him. The problem is he’s taken it out on the wrong man.’

I looked at him. ‘Is that official?’

‘We’re not telling anyone yet. But there’s not much doubt that whoever strangled Stacey Coker had smaller hands than Holloway, and they were savvy enough not to leave so much as a hair or fingerprint behind. The psychologists doubt he’d be capable of anything like that, and probably not of murdering her either. At least not as he is now,’ he added. ‘There’s still a question mark over what happened to his daughter, but I don’t think we’ll ever know the story there.’

‘So what’s going to happen to him?’

Lundy took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. ‘I expect he’ll be sectioned. We can’t just release him, he’s not fit to fend for himself. He might not have murdered Stacey Coker, but she wouldn’t have crashed if he hadn’t been wandering in the road. So there’s that, as well. However you look at it, he won’t be coming back here.’

I looked at the burnt-out shell that had been Edgar’s home for decades. ‘Then what’ll happen to this place?’

‘That’s where it gets interesting. You remember I wondered what the connection could be between Holloway and Leo Villiers? I couldn’t understand why Villiers would even know this place existed, let alone feel confident enough to keep a shotgun here. Well, we looked into it and guess what? Turns out the house is owned by the Villiers estate.’

‘Edgar’s their tenant?’

Lundy smiled, more like his usual self. ‘The estate owns land and properties all over this area, but I didn’t twig that this was one of them. And it gets better. Sir Stephen handed the local tenancy side of the business to Leo a few years back. Nice independent income, and he probably hoped it’d get his son more involved with the running of things. Didn’t work out, but it means Leo Villiers is Holloway’s landlord.’

I looked at the blackened house, remembering its squalor and dilapidation. ‘He was charging him rent for this?’

‘That’s the thing. He wasn’t. Holloway wasn’t claiming benefits and didn’t have any income we’re aware of. He can’t have been paying rent for Christ knows how long. We found a gull nesting on a pile of old bank statements, and according to them he used to get publishing royalties from the text books he wrote. But that wouldn’t have been enough to live on, and it must have dried up long since. I dare say the family lawyers will try to tell us it was a charity case, but I can’t see Villiers letting anyone live rent free from the kindness of his heart.’

Neither could I. Whether he’d intended all along to take advantage of his vulnerable tenant or not, it wasn’t a kindness to let Edgar live alone out here anyway. Villiers might not have harmed him directly, but he’d allowed him to exist in barely animal conditions, slowly starving as his mental health disintegrated along with his home. That was a form of cruelty in itself.

‘When are you going to let people know it wasn’t Villiers in the estuary?’ I asked.

‘That’s down to the chief. There’s an argument in favour of keeping quiet so we don’t tip Villiers off, but that’s running out of steam fast. After everything that’s happened word’s bound to be getting out, and after Stacey Coker I don’t know how much longer we should keep a lid on it anyway. The priority now is finding the bugger before anyone else gets hurt. Anyway,’ Lundy said, glancing at his watch, ‘you said you’d got something on Mark Chapel?’

I’d forgotten about that for the few moments we’d been discussing Edgar, but now the heaviness settled on me again as I remembered the previous night. ‘Rachel found a photograph her sister took of him. He has a cleft chin, the same as the mandible we found with the remains from the barbed wire.’

‘I noticed that myself,’ he said. ‘You could have parked a bike in it.’

‘You’ve managed to trace him?’ I asked, surprised.

‘Not exactly. He went missing seven months ago, around the same time as Emma Derby.’

Even though I’d been expecting it, the confirmation was unwelcome. I didn’t like the way any of this was beginning to look. ‘That can’t be a coincidence.’

‘No,’ Lundy agreed. ‘Unfortunately, because he lived in London no one made the connection. And the dates don’t quite tally. Last time anyone saw Chapel was the Friday before Emma Derby vanished on the following Monday. He got fired from the music video producers the year before so he was working at a place that makes videos for corporate websites. Pretty low-end stuff. Said he was going away for the weekend but didn’t say where, and then never showed up for work the next week. No one thought much of it because he’d been having a lot of time off anyway. Dental problems, he claimed. We can probably take that with a pinch of salt, but it meant it was another week before he was reported missing. His boss only bothered then because Chapel had taken video equipment with him. He’d been threatened with the sack already, so when he didn’t appear everyone assumed he’d nicked it.’

‘What sort of dental problems?’ I asked, thinking back to the skull I’d examined.

‘No idea. Is it important?’

‘An abscess or infection could have weakened the bone around the front teeth, and made it give way when he was hit. If Mark Chapel was being treated for that it’d be something else pointing to it being his body we found in the creek.’

‘If he was it’ll be on his dental records,’ Lundy said, not sounding particularly impressed. ‘Either way, the timing’s much too convenient to ignore. With Trask away on his work trip, Emma could have arranged to hook up with her boyfriend without worrying about being caught. Chapel drives over here on his bike, and then whatever happened to them happened.’

‘How do you know he drove up on his bike?’

The DI gave a grim smile. ‘I did some digging after you told me about the photograph of the motorbike. A burnt-out Harley was found six months ago in a ditch a few miles from here. No registration plates and someone had ground off all the serial numbers, but it fits the description of the one registered to Chapel.’

Like the indentation in the mandible, it wasn’t proof in itself. But a picture of what had happened to Emma Derby’s former boyfriend was starting to emerge. And now something else occurred to me.

‘They could have met at the boathouse. It was Emma Derby’s pet project, and I got the impression Trask didn’t have much to do with it.’

Lundy considered. ‘It’d take a brass nerve for them to be right under Trask’s nose, but Chapel would have to stay somewhere and there’s not many places round here. Have you seen anything to make you think he was there?’

‘No, but I haven’t really looked in the dock underneath the flat. It’s full of old junk.’ I’d only been inside the lower level briefly, when I’d wanted something to help retrieve the training shoe. I hadn’t paid much attention to what else might be in the clutter.

‘Well, I’m heading there next. I can take a look then.’

‘You’re going to the boathouse?’

‘Rachel Derby’s bringing the photographs she found. She doesn’t want Trask to know, so she said she’d see me there.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘She, ah, also wanted me to know that she’d been in the country when her sister went missing. Said she’d told us at the time, which it turns out she had. I didn’t take her statement so I assumed… Anyway, everything checked out. She was at a friend’s wedding somewhere.’

‘Poole,’ I said.

‘Right.’ Not looking at me, Lundy took out a handkerchief and wiped his nose. ‘Sorry if that’s made things awkward.’

I didn’t know whether I should feel relieved or more of a fool than ever. ‘It’s OK.’

He put the handkerchief away. ‘So, are you off to the mortuary now?’

‘Yes,’ I said, and abruptly made a decision. ‘If it’s OK by you I need to stop off back at the boathouse first, though.’

‘Forgotten something, have you?’

‘Something like that.’

I saw Lundy smile to himself as he turned away. But he fell quiet as we walked back down the track to where we’d left our cars. He unlocked his and then stood without opening it.

‘Can I ask you something?’

My first thought was that it was about Rachel, but then I noticed the worry in his eyes and realized this was something different. ‘Of course.’

‘The hospital rang this morning. I was supposed to be seeing the consultant for the results in a couple of weeks, but they’ve brought it forward. To tomorrow.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You used to be a GP. I just wondered if they ever do that sort of thing for… you know. Good news.’

No wonder he’d seemed subdued. ‘It depends on the consultant, I suppose. Or perhaps the equipment was faulty and they need to do it again. Could be any number of things.’

I wished I could offer something more reassuring. I really didn’t know, but if I were Lundy I’d be worried too.

‘That’s what I thought. Probably a lot about nothing.’ He gave a brisk nod, the police officer again. ‘Right, I’ll see you there.’

Lundy said he had a call to make before setting off, so I left him outside Edgar’s and drove to the boathouse. Neither of the Trasks’ Land Rovers were there, which I took to mean Rachel hadn’t arrived yet. But as I parked I saw her waiting by the front door. She had the same folder under her arm that she’d had the photographs in the evening before. I climbed out of my car, simultaneously nervous and glad to see her.

I walked over, with no real idea of what I should say. Neither of us spoke for a moment. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked.

Her face gave nothing away. ‘I thought you were going back to London.’

‘I am. Later.’ Come on, talk to her. ‘Lundy told me you’d spoken to him.’

She looked at me without saying anything.

‘About last night,’ I ploughed on. ‘I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘How did you think I was going to feel?’

‘I’m sorry, it’s just… the situation’s complicated.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Rachel was looking at me with a perplexed, almost exasperated expression, but at least she seemed calmer now. I heard the sound of a car engine approaching, and knew I only had a few more seconds.

‘Look, I can’t leave it like this. I want to see you again.’

I hadn’t planned to blurt it out, and from Rachel’s expression she hadn’t expected it either. She appeared at a loss, and then just when it seemed she might answer Lundy’s car crunched on to the cinders.

Rachel gave me a last troubled look as the DI heaved himself out of his car. He flexed his shoulders stiffly, rubbing the small of his back as he looked up at the dark smear of cloud out to sea. ‘Going to be raining in a bit.’

‘Do you feel it in your bones?’ Rachel asked, and I was glad to see her smile.

‘Radio 2, actually. Same sort of thing.’ He nodded at the folder. ‘Those the photos?’

‘Yeah.’ She looked down at the folder. ‘I feel a bit weird about this. Andrew still doesn’t know anything about it. I’m not comfortable going behind his back.’

‘No point upsetting him if there’s no need,’ Lundy said reasonably. ‘Maybe we could go inside to take a look?’

Both Rachel and Lundy looked at me. I felt my face colour. ‘I, uh, I posted my key through the letterbox when I left.’

When I’d gone to meet Lundy at Edgar’s house I hadn’t thought I’d be coming back here again. Lundy gave me a wry look but made no comment.

‘It’s OK, I’ve got a spare.’ Rachel pulled out her sister’s heavy key ring, jangling through them before finding what she wanted.

I let her and Lundy go in first. The DI bent to pick up the key I’d posted. He raised his eyebrows as he turned to me. ‘Shall I give this to Rachel or might you change your mind again?’

Deciding the less I said the better, I followed him inside. I’d tidied the place before I left, leaving the quilt and bedding folded on the sofa. The Tupperware box Rachel had brought dessert in stood on the side, a few pieces of the dog food cake still in it. It had been too rich for me to finish, but I thought that would come well down my list of transgressions. While she set her folder down on the table, Lundy headed over to the stack of framed photographs leaning against the wall. The motorbike one was still at the front.

‘I’m certain it’s Mark Chapel’s,’ Rachel said as he studied it. ‘And you can see the sea fort in the background. Here, it’s clearer on these other prints.’

As she turned to open the folder, Lundy caught my eye and gave a short nod, confirming that the motorbike matched the burnt-out one they’d found. He came over to the table where Rachel was spreading out the smaller photographs.

‘These were taken from the beach by the sea wall,’ she said, shuffling through them. ‘It’s the same bike and location, and the sea fort’s definitely the one by the mouth of the estuary. And here, these photographs of Villiers’ house. Emma must have shot them from one of the towers. There’s nowhere else they could have been taken from.’

Lundy’s face remained impassive as he went through them. ‘Have you any idea why she might do that?’

‘Not really. She was doing remodelling work on the house, but that was all interiors. And if she needed to photograph the outside she could have done it from the front lawn. She didn’t need to go all the way out there.’

Lundy went through the photographs again, then tapped them into a neat stack and put them back in the folder. ‘Can I take these? We’ll return them when we’ve made copies.’

‘I suppose so, but they aren’t mine…’

‘Don’t worry, we’ll look after them.’

Rachel nodded, but still looked unhappy. ‘What should I say to Andrew?’

‘Nothing just yet. Best let us look into it first. No point him jumping to conclusions if there’s no need.’

Especially not when he might be a suspect, I thought. I hated keeping the truth from Rachel, and her next words made me feel even worse.

‘So are you going to talk to Mark Chapel?’

I was glad she’d asked Lundy and not me. He tucked the folder under his arm. ‘That sort of thing’s up to DCI Clarke. Before I go, can I have a quick look downstairs?’

‘In the dock, you mean?’ Rachel shrugged, surprised. ‘If you like. Why, what are you looking for?’

‘Oh, nothing in particular. I’d just like a shufti while I’m here.’

‘It was checked when Emma went missing. There’s nothing down there but junk.’

‘I’d still like a look, even so.’

I could see Rachel wasn’t convinced. We waited while Lundy put the photographs in his car, then went outside to the creaking timber steps that led down the side of the boathouse to the creek. A boat was moored at the end of the jetty, and when I saw it I realized why neither of the Land Rovers had been parked outside. Rachel hadn’t come by road. It was the same fibreglass dinghy that Trask and I had taken to search for his daughter, its line pulled tight as it pitched about in the current.

Rachel stopped on the wooden landing next to the hatchway in the boathouse wall and unhooked the rope holding the hatch cover in place.

‘Is that the only way in?’ Lundy said doubtfully. The hatchway opening was no more than four feet high and two wide, and promised to be a tight fit for the DI.

‘The gates at the front are padlocked,’ Rachel told him. ‘I don’t have a key.’

There was an edge to her voice. As Lundy pushed open the hatch cover, hinges squeaking as it swung inwards, she turned and looked at me. Her expression said she knew she wasn’t being told something, but then there was a clatter and a curse as Lundy climbed through into the dock. The DI’s voice echoed hollowly from inside the boathouse.

‘Ow. Bloody thing drops down inside.’

‘Sorry, I should have warned you,’ Rachel said, not sounding it. Turning away from me, she ducked her head and stepped nimbly through the hatchway after him. I followed her through, pausing in the dank atmosphere to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. The gloomy interior had the same musty odour of damp earth and salt water I remembered from before. The dock was partially flooded, and light from the slopping waves danced on the walls. The wooden walkway ran along the back wall and both sides, cluttered with old nets, cork buoys and other boating paraphernalia. I stayed by the hatch with Rachel as Lundy picked his way towards the shuttered gates, having to step over the holed fibreglass canoe.

‘I wouldn’t go too far,’ she told him. ‘The decking’s pretty rotten.’

He stopped, taking her at her word. Framed by the strips of light coming through the gate’s slats, Lundy looked down at the water below us.

‘Does it all drain out at low tide?’

I could see from the stiff angle of Rachel’s neck and shoulders that she was growing angry. Her voice confirmed it.

‘Why wouldn’t it?’

I knew Lundy was thinking about Mark Chapel’s submerged body, wondering if something might be hidden under the water inside the boathouse as well. But it had been low tide when I’d been in here for the oar, and there had been nothing more sinister on the muddy creek bottom than rocks and dirty strands of weeds.

‘No reason,’ Lundy said. He looked up at the timbered ceiling. There was nothing to see up there, the rough beams barely visible in the shadows. ‘Shall we go back outside?’

I stepped through the hatch on to the small landing, relieved to be back in fresh air. I started up the steps as Rachel emerged, but paused when I realized she wasn’t following. She stayed on the landing, her face set and angry as she waited for Lundy to come out. The DI stepped through the hatchway with a grunt.

‘I’m not built for this,’ he grumbled, looping the rope over the hook to hold the hatch cover shut. Straightening, he turned to leave then stopped when Rachel didn’t move.

‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean there’s something you’re not telling me.’

‘I can’t go into details about an investigation, you know that. Now, why don’t we—’

‘I’m not asking for details, I’m just sick of not being told anything. You wanted to look in there for a reason. And you ducked the question when I asked if you’re going to talk to Mark Chapel. I’m not stupid. It’s obvious something’s going on.’

Lundy sighed. ‘You’re just going to have to trust me.’

‘Trust you? I’m the one who’s stuck my neck out and gone behind Andrew’s back, and now you won’t even say why?’ She shot me a brief glare, including me in the accusation before confronting Lundy again. ‘Why are you being so cagey about Mark Chapel? Do you think he had something to do with what happened to Emma?’

‘No, it’s nothing like that.’

‘Then what, for God’s sake? And if you haven’t even questioned him yet how do you know…’ She trailed off, her eyes widening. ‘Something’s happened to him, hasn’t it?’

Lundy looked cornered. ‘Like I said, I can’t go into details.’

The colour had drained from Rachel’s face. She raised a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, God, the body on the barbed wire with Fay. Was that him? That was Mark?’

‘Nothing’s been confirmed,’ Lundy ploughed on, but Rachel was staring at me.

‘You knew, didn’t you?’

Oh, Christ. ‘I couldn’t say anything, I’m sorry.’

‘I told him not to,’ Lundy cut in. ‘This is an ongoing inquiry, we can’t—’

‘I can’t believe this!’ Rachel looked stunned. ‘What happened to him? Did Villiers kill them both?’

Lundy seemed to struggle for a moment, then sighed. ‘We don’t know.’

‘Well, if he didn’t, who…’ I saw the realization hit her. ‘Oh, no, you can’t think Andrew…?’

‘We don’t think anything at the moment,’ Lundy said doggedly. ‘But until we know more this has to stay strictly confidential. You can’t tell anybody. Do you understand?’

But Rachel wasn’t listening. She looked pale. ‘I feel sick.’

‘Do you want to sit down?’ I asked.

‘No, I don’t want to bloody sit down!’ she snapped, then turned to Lundy. ‘What about the sea fort? What are you going to do about that? Or is that confidential as well?’

‘The marine unit will probably go out and take a look,’ Lundy said, with the air of a man under siege.

‘When? Today?’

‘No, I don’t know when it’ll be. But even if your sister did go out there—’

‘If? You’ve seen the photographs!’

‘—then I can’t see that it’s relevant. They took away the main access ladders from the towers years ago, so she can’t have got inside. And if she made those prints afterwards then she obviously came back, so it’s not as if there’s any need to rush out there.’

I thought Rachel was going to argue. She stood facing Lundy with her arms crossed, an angry flush on her cheeks.

‘Fine.’

She turned and went down the last few steps to the jetty, heading for the boat. Giving Lundy a glance I went after her.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Where do you think?’

She didn’t so much as break step, forcing me to hurry to keep up. ‘You’re going out to the fort?’

Rachel didn’t answer. She didn’t have to: she’d intended to go out all along, that was why she’d brought the boat. My exasperation rose as she bent to untie the mooring line.

‘Look, will you just stop for a second?’

‘Why? I’m tired of waiting around. If no one else is going to do anything then I will.’

‘You’ve no idea what condition the fort’s in. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to get inside.’

‘Emma managed.’

‘And you said yourself she might have had an accident. Two of the towers have collapsed already.’

She continued untying the line. ‘If I don’t come back you can raise the alarm.’

‘Come on, this is…’ I wanted to say stupid, but thought better of it. ‘I know you’re angry, but going out on your own isn’t going to help anyone. Just think about it.’

‘I have. And I’m going.’

‘Then I’m coming with you.’

That made her stop. Finally she looked at me. ‘I’m not asking you to.’

‘No, but I’m coming anyway.’

The jetty shook from Lundy’s heavy footsteps. From the sour expression on his face I guessed he’d heard.

‘I don’t have to tell either of you my views on this, do I?’

‘No.’ Rachel gave the mooring line an angry tug. ‘I know no one else thinks this is important, but Emma must have had a reason for going out there. I’m going to find out what it is.’

Lundy blew out his cheeks. ‘I can’t stop you, but I wish you’d at least wait. The weather forecast’s atrocious.’

‘That isn’t till later,’ Rachel told him, coiling up the line. ‘I’ll be back long before then.’

The DI looked out across the creek, shaking his head at some internal conversation. ‘Oh, bloody hell,’ he muttered.