A Cornish Revenge (The Loveday Ross Cornish Mysteries Book 1) (17 page)

‘At the time I couldn’t understand how somebody like her would want to pal around with me. I mean, look at us. She’s so full of herself, smart dresser, big ideas – and me – well, I’m just me. I know you must think I’m pretty dim, but I really didn’t see where it was all leading.

Anyway, we both got out of prison around the same time and Geraldine took this flat in London. She’s got money. She’d been checking up on Bentine and discovered he had moved from Cambridge to Cornwall, so she tracked him down…watched his house and everything. She worked out a way we could get even. It was all planned. We would make him suffer, as he had made us suffer. That’s all it was to be. We would put the frighteners on him. At least that’s all I thought we were going to do.

‘It was easy for her to work something out. I think she enjoyed it. She knows Cornwall, you see. She used to come down here for her holidays. And later, when she was grown up, she used to sail around these parts. She knows all about boats, Geraldine. She used to be in some sailing club in Southampton – that’s where she comes from – a housing estate in Southampton. She doesn’t know I know that. She likes people to think she is posh. But her mum told me when she came to visit one day.’

Loveday shook her head in disbelieve as she read on.

  ‘She found out where Bentine lived and we went to his house. Geraldine drugged him and we put him in the boot of her car then drove to a little cove where she kept the boat she’d hired. She’d even hired wet suits and we changed into them so we couldn’t be recognised if anyone saw us. She had it all worked out. When Bentine came round she produced a gun. Believe me, inspector, I had no idea she had a gun.

‘ It was dark by then and we all got into the boat. Bentine thought it was a windup and that Geraldine would release him, but she didn’t. When we reached the cove she threatened to shoot him if he didn’t do as he was told. He’d begun to get frightened. I was told to tie him down to the beach with some rope and pegs she had brought. I thought we would go off and then come back again when he was good and scared. I now know that it had been Geraldine’s intention all along to kill him.

‘Loveday Ross might have guessed by now we only made friends with her because she was a journalist. Geraldine said she would be in a good position to get feed back from the police about how their investigation was going. I just wanted to get away from Cornwall, but Geraldine said we had to stay on. She said we had to make sure we weren’t suspects. She’s obsessed with it.

‘That’s why she destroyed that picture in the museum at Truro – Oh yes, that was her.’

Loveday’s eyes widened. So Lawrence had been right after all. She looked up at Sam, and he nodded. She read on
.

‘Geraldine had got it into her head that it was her in the picture. There was a blob, a splash of paint, but she insisted it was her and that she could be identified by it just because she’d been out there on the cliffs checking out the area. Even if it was her, which I’m sure it wasn’t. Nobody could have possibly recognised her. But she was paranoid about it. So we went back the next day. She even made me carry the can of spray paint in my bag.’

  ‘I feel better for writing this. It’s a comfort to me that somebody else now knows what we did…what she did. Geraldine needs to be stopped. I truly believe she is mad.

  ‘I’m leaving this letter with the pub landlord and trusting that he will post it to you, as he has promised.

  Jane.

     ‘So she really did mean to kill him,’ Loveday said, flatly, as she handed the letter back to him.

     Sam nodded. ‘No doubt about it.’ He took a deep breath and shook his head. ‘You were right about that, too. Apparently she knew the history of that old pub we met up in. The idea of condemning Paul Bentine to a terrifying death appealed to her.

  ‘Abbie must have been planning this for a long time.’

  Sam nodded. ‘From the moment she was sent down. She blamed Bentine for that and spent all of her prison sentence plotting her revenge.’

  ‘What about Kit?’

  ‘I think she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t believe Kit was ever all that bothered about taking revenge on Bentine. He might not have been one of the greatest lawyers, but the courts found Kit guilty and so she was sent down. She would never have thought of revenge if Abbie or Geraldine, to call her by her real name, hadn’t talked her into it.’

  ‘So what happened when they left prison?’

  ‘According to Geraldine, she got a flat in London. She had money so that was not a problem. Kit joined her when she was released a few months later. I don’t suppose it was very difficult to discover where Bentine and Magdalene had moved to, although they did keep a much lower profile when they came down to Cornwall.’

  Loveday nodded, her brow creased in thought. ‘My guess would be that he sold up in Cambridge to get away from people who wanted to get even with him. He was a blackmailer. But I suppose you knew that?’

   They knew plenty about that. Paul Bentine had had another laptop, and it had been recovered from Abbie’s room in the pub where the women had been staying. She’d admitted stealing it from his house and copying selected bits of information, in particular, Lawrence Kemp’s name, onto a memory stick. It was the one they found later – as they had been meant to - in his desk drawer. But Loveday didn’t need to know that, not yet. It would all come out in court.

‘What about Lawrence’s painting? Was Abbie/Geraldine, whatever her name is, did she actually admit she was responsible for that as well?’

  Sam nodded. ‘Apparently.’

  ‘Did she tell you why she did it?’

  Sam cleared his throat. ‘It was exactly as Kit had said in her letter. She saw Kemp’s painting when she and Kit visited the museum, recognised the location and got some sort of fixation that she was the figure on the cliffs -’

  ‘So she went back and obliterated it?’

  ‘Something like that.’ He turned to look at Loveday. ‘So you were on the ball there too.’

  ‘Not me. That was all Lawrence’s idea.’  She shot him a mischievous glance. ‘As I recall, you rubbished it.’

  ‘That’s right. Rub it in.’

  Loveday laughed. ‘If it’s any consolation, I did too, at the time. I told Lawrence he was mad.’

    A helicopter, crossing the sky like a giant dragonfly, droned high above them.

‘It’s on its way to the Scillies,’ Loveday said, her voice, reflective. ‘Do you know the Scillies, Inspector?’

    ‘It was Sam a minute ago,’ he said, watching her. ‘And no. I don’t know the Scillies.’ He glanced around him. ‘This place is good enough for me.’

  They had stopped to look back and take in the wide sweep of the coastline. They could see Mousehole across the water, the sun glinting on the windows of its picturesque little cottages.

    ‘Loveday nodded. ‘I run down here.’ She took a deep breath, enjoying the sensation of the clean air filling her lungs.

    ‘I can see why,’ he said, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the horizon.

    ‘Reminds me of home,’ Loveday explained.

    ‘Scotland?’

    ‘Yes.’

   ‘Which part?’

    ‘The Black Isle. My parents run a pub there. It’s just north of Inverness.’

    ‘And is it?’

    ‘What?’

    ‘Black?’

    Loveday laughed and her nose wrinkled. ‘More like green, but they do say the soil is rich and black.’ She looked at him. ‘And before you ask, it’s not an island either.’

   ‘All very clear. Sounds like a place that has to be seen to be believed,’ Sam said as his phone rang. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. ‘My son,’ he said. ‘Do you mind?’

   Loveday nodded and Sam strode across the beach, speaking into his phone. When he came back a few minutes later he was frowning. ‘I promised to take him fishing when this case was wound up.’ He grinned. ‘He’s pinning me down.’

    ‘How old is he?’

    ‘Jack’s 11 and Maddie is eight.’ He paused, as though deciding whether to give any more information. ‘They live in Plymouth with their mother.’

    She nodded, and then looking up saw that he had been watching her. ‘You don’t ask many questions - for a journalist, that is.’

   ‘No,’ she said quietly, ‘Even journalists have days off.’
And know when to keep quiet
, she added silently.

   ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m starving,’ he said suddenly, springing up from the rock where they had been sitting and extending a hand to help Loveday to her feet.

  ‘Me too,’ she said, realising that it was actually true.

  ‘I know just the place.’

  Loveday’s hand went to her face. ‘I’m no fit sight for company.’

  ‘You’ll love where I’ve got in mind,’ he said before hesitating and turning to face her. ‘And just for the record. You look fine.’

  They went back to Loveday’s cottage to collect his car and she noticed Cassie’s Land Rover had gone. Sam followed her gaze.

  ‘They’ve gone to St Ives. A picnic was mentioned.’

  Loveday turned a surprised stare on him.

  ‘I was invited in for coffee, earlier,’ he explained as he followed her into the cottage. Her phone was flashing on the kitchen table where she had left it. Three missed calls – all from Lawrence.

  ‘Go ahead,’ Sam said, when she motioned silently that she would check them. She walked through to the sitting room, leaving Sam in the kitchen and pressed the answer button.

  ‘Loveday! What the hell’s been happening? Cassie said you’d been hurt. Are you all right?’

  ‘Cassie told you?’

  ‘I phoned her when I couldn’t get hold of you. She thought I knew.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘That you’d been hurt…and that the police have charged someone for Bentine’s murder.’

  ‘That’s right. I know her. She’s a lawyer who used to work with Bentine. Look Lawrence. I can’t talk right now. Can I call you back?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tonight. I promise.’

   Kemp! Damn it! Sam had forgotten about him. …And Loveday had told him she would be calling him that night. They were obviously in a relationship. He glanced round the room. She had her own life here, and he wasn’t any part of it. Not that he wanted to be part of it, he tried to convince himself. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. The only reason he had come here today was to apologise for his behaviour yesterday…but what had he to apologise for? Loveday Ross had only herself to blame if she got into trouble.

  She came back into the kitchen. She’d brushed her hair and it was hanging loose now around her face, the dark strands against her bruised skin emphasizing how fragile she looked.

  He imagined Lawrence Kemp coming here, could see him making himself at home, pouring wine, taking ownership of the little cottage…taking ownership of her. He was suddenly angry and he wasn’t sure why.

  The painkillers Loveday had taken earlier in the day had long since worn off and she flinched as she moved across the room.

  ‘Sore?’ Sam asked.

  Loveday grimaced. ‘All my own fault.’

  ‘I’ll second that,’ Sam said, his face serious.

  Loveday looked up. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You said it yourself, Loveday. Self inflicted injuries.’

  She shook her head and stared at him for an explanation. When none came, she said, ‘Have I done something wrong?’

  ‘Now let me see,’ he said, eyes searching the ceiling. ‘Journalist…meddling…troublesome.’ Are you getting my drift?’

  Loveday opened her mouth to reply, but his raised hand silenced her.

  ‘What I’m getting at is that this was a serious investigation and you did rather interfere.’

  Loveday was shaking. ‘You know what,’ she said. ‘Let’s just forget about lunch. I’ve lost my appetite.’

  Sam turned to speak but, shaking his head, thought better of it.

  Loveday moved to the door and held it open. ‘Goodbye, Inspector.’ She said, slamming it shut behind him.

  She watched, eyes narrowed, as his car retreated at speed up the drive, the tyres sending gravel flying in all directions. The man really was insufferable.

Loveday went to the fridge. The bottle of Australian Chardonnay was half full and she poured herself a glass and took it outside. The rabbits on the lawn scattered as she sat down on the peeling wooden bench beneath her window. Even they were deserting her. She took a gulp and felt the cold liquid flow down her throat. Somewhere inside she could feel it begin to relax her. She sipped the rest more slowly. The rabbits had come back, emerging gingerly from their hiding places under the hedge that bordered the garden. Inside the cottage her phone was ringing. Loveday tried to ignore it, but eventually she went and picked it up.

  ‘Me again,’ Merrick said. ‘Just checking up on you.’

  ‘I’ve already got a mother, Merrick,’ she sighed.

  ‘Oh dear. Touchy today aren’t we?’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘Hmm, no, not really…but thanks for your concern. I just need a bit of space right now, that’s all.’