Betrayed in Cornwall (9 page)

To the right grassy slopes ran down to the edge of low cliffs beyond which was nothing but the sea. The turning was no more than a track; he had noticed it before but he had not realised there was a hut lower down. One officer, at least, was deserving of praise to have found it and, hopefully, the people
they were looking for. This was supposedly private land, or so the weatherbeaten sign at the entrance declared, but he had heard over the radio that no one had yet discovered who it belonged to or what it was used for. Much of the coastline around there was owned by the National Trust; this area, however, was not.

Jack took the turning and drove slowly across the bumpy tufts of grass whose roots had managed to survive in the sun-baked earth. The remaining flowers on the gorse bushes were dark yellow, almost orange, as the last of them died. Later they would bloom again. Below, shimmering in the heat of the evening, lay the bay. Surface ripples danced like a million silver fish. Sunlight glinted off the police vehicles which had been parked high up and to the left of the wooden building where they could not be seen. To the right of it the bonnet and radiator grille of a car was visible, but its number plate was plastered with mud. The hut was in surprisingly good repair considering what the elements must have thrown at it. Half a dozen men stood around, but well back and out of view. Another sat sideways in the front of a squad car, his feet resting on the grass as he listened to a message over the radio. He stood up and waved a hand. Another officer raised his in response to the signal then turned to face the shed.

The breeze was coming off the land but Jack was still able to hear what was said through a loud-hailer, some of the words louder than others as the wind briefly changed direction. ‘Police. We’d like to talk to you. Please come out and identify yourselves.’ There was no response. No one had approached the door and knocked. Jack assumed that this was because they did not know if whoever was inside was armed. If there was any connection between Sarah’s disappearance, Joe’s death and drugs they might well have a gun.

Jack parked and went to join the group of men. They might be wasting their time. The hut might be empty, the car abandoned. Even so he had a feeling that this was not the case. Please let Rose and Sarah be safe, he prayed.

‘What’s happening?’ Jack asked in a whisper.

‘We saw a movement. There’s definitely someone in there.’

The man with the loud-hailer tried again. For the second time his request met with no response. It was a stand-off. They might have to take the place by force eventually, something they tried to avoid unless there was no alternative.

They waited. After what seemed like an eternity, the window opened a fraction and someone inside the hut spoke.

‘Keep away if you don’t want anyone to get hurt.’ The voice travelled thinly towards them as the wind snatched at it greedily.

The figure moved swiftly back from the window, visible only because there must have been another source of light on the other side of the structure. The silhouette had been backlit. If you don’t want anyone to be hurt, he had said. It had been the voice of a male. But the word ‘anyone’ gave no indication as to how many people were inside, or it could have meant one of themselves.

Jack looked at his watch. It was almost seven fifteen. The sun was lower in the sky now, sinking down behind the mound of the coastline to his right and painting the sky in pastel shades. But it would be some time before it set completely when the purple clouds of night would rise from the horizon and the red streaks of a dying day would inflame them. It was better to have daylight on their side. Rose loved sunsets. And sunrises, and everything to do with nature. The thought of her, frightened and in danger, was enough of a spur for him to make a decision. The wrong decision. He had assumed, without checking, that Rose was inside and that it would fall upon him to rescue her. Aching and dizzy with flu, in his fear for Rose’s safety he had forgotten his own position. ‘All right, that’s enough, let’s get on with it,’ he said.

‘But, sir, we don’t know –’

Jack snatched the loud-hailer and held it to his lips. ‘You’ve got five minutes then we’re coming in.’

The team stared at him as if he was mad. The inspector was a professional and he wasn’t even on duty. They were dealing with a hostage here. He knew, as they all did, that you negotiated, no matter how long it took, and only when there was finally no other course of action or someone’s life was in
danger did you go in. Amongst them were men experienced in this sort of situation, trained to deal with it, the ones who should be making any such decisions. And when you did take the place, you did it with stealth, with the element of surprise and with as little risk to all parties as was possible.

Jack’s shirt stuck to his back. He felt their eyes on him and knew what he had done. If things went wrong he would never be able to forgive himself. I shouldn’t be here at all, he realised. He wasn’t even part of the team. A combination of events had made him irrational, had made him over-react. He knew the rules and he had broken them. And you did not lie to hostage-takers. He had said what he had said and now they would have to stick to it. He felt a firm hand on his arm.

‘Jack, go home.’ Andy Peters, a trained negotiator, was speaking to him. He saw by Jack’s grey and sweating face that he was ill.

He shook his head. ‘I can’t. Not now. I’m sorry.’ His apology was general. He was sorry for more than what he had done.

Andy sighed. ‘Okay, but keep out of things. You’ve done enough damage already.’

They waited until the five minutes were up then the men fanned out around the building. They had no idea how many people were inside or whether their quarry was armed. The only certainty was that there was one man who had issued a threat, but to whom it had been directed they did not know.

Jack stood back and watched. There would be questions to answer when all this was over, possibly even disciplinary action would be taken, but that was in the future. Sick with shame he watched his fellow officers whose lives he may have endangered. What he had done must never happen again. His feelings for Rose had overcome his training and his professionalism. At that moment he both loved and hated her, hated her because his love for her had prompted him to make a stupid mistake.

And what of Douggie? What had he to do with any of this? Douggie must have been mistaken, he had misconstrued whatever he might have overheard. The man in the shed had
threatened violence, he might even be armed. Something this big, something which possibly involved firearms would not have been discussed casually over a few pints. But Douggie had been right to tell him.

‘Christ!’

Jack thought he heard the exclamation before the flash of light and the report of a single gunshot registered. His legs buckled and he fell to the ground but he could not understand why. He felt no pain, only a numbness in his left thigh. The sky swooped above him but all he could think of was that Rose was supposed to be the one at risk, not himself. He did not know if she was in there, or if the gunman would now kill his hostages. If she died there wouldn’t be an awful lot left to live for. He finally admitted what he had always known, that he loved her.

There was shouting as blurred shapes moved past him. Through the sun-baked earth beneath his body he felt the vibration of running footsteps. Blood pounded in his ears and a face swayed in and out of focus above him. The world started to spin, kaleidoscope-fashion. There was a noise in his head like hundreds of gongs.

‘Rose?’ he muttered, before he lost consciousness.

‘It’s all right, love, forget it. We were worried, that’s all.’ Arthur touched his daughter’s cheek. Since her return she had not been able to stop apologising and he could not bear to see her so crestfallen, especially as Evelyn still had what he called her pinched-lip expression; she had been angry, so had he initially but when Rose stepped out of the taxi relief had washed away his anger.

Rose smiled weakly. ‘Well, I am sorry. It was thoughtless of me, not to say rude.’

‘For goodness’ sake, will you two stop it and eat something?’
Evelyn was on her feet, filling their wineglasses. Rose had bought a special burgundy to go with the steak. ‘Now, let’s hear all about it,’ she continued, once she had sat down. Her anger had, as always, once expressed, evaporated. ‘What have you been up to this time, young lady?’

Rose turned to her with surprise. ‘What do you mean by this time?’

‘Ah, your good friend, Barry Rowe, hinted that you have, over the course of the last couple of years, developed a tendency to court disaster.’

‘Did he now? Well, pay no attention to that man. He fusses over me like a mother hen. He’s simply over-protective. He and Jack have a lot in … What is it?’

‘Oh, heavens.’ Evelyn’s hand covered her mouth and a flush spread across her prominent cheekbones. ‘Arthur, we didn’t let Jack know.’

‘Jack?’ Rose turned from one to the other. ‘Let him know what?’

‘That you were safe. You see, your mother and I panicked and started ringing your friends to see if anyone knew where you were,’ Arthur admitted, rather shamefacedly.

‘And you rang Jack?’ She would never live this down and he would lecture her for weeks about consideration for others. And he would be right.

‘It was Barry’s idea to contact him.’

‘Yes. It would be.’

‘Excuse me.’ Arthur stood up. ‘I’d better give him a quick ring now and let him know you’re safe.’

‘I’ll do it.’ Rose patted her father’s shoulder and hurried to the telephone knowing what Jack was likely to say to her parents. He would be furious and mention things she would rather not have them know. There was no answer from the flat and when she tried his number at Camborne she was told that he wasn’t there either. ‘Would you give Inspector Pearce a message, please? Would you let him know I’m at home,’ she said without further explanation.

‘Certainly, Mrs Trevelyan, if – I mean, as soon as it’s possible we’ll pass on the message.’ The officer’s reply was hesitant.

Well, he can’t have been that bothered if he’s gone out for the evening, she decided after she’d hung up.

Rose paused, her hand still on the receiver, only then realising how guarded Constable Harris had sounded. What had he meant?
If
it was possible? He had corrected himself quickly enough but there was obviously something wrong. It had not struck her at the time because she had been so relieved that she had the means of letting Jack know she was safe without having to endure a tongue-lashing. She recalled vaguely a conversation when Jack had mentioned that he would like to take her and her parents out but that he wasn’t sure of his movements over the next few days. Presumably he was involved in a big case which he could not discuss, even with her. Maybe that’s where he was, working on it right now.

Well, she had done her duty by him, now she must explain to her parents the reason for her delay. She rejoined them and began to relate the events of the day. They had already given her their version.

‘As you know, I went to see Geoff Carter. When he told me he’d sold two more of my paintings I was over the moon. It gave me a real boost and I intended coming straight home and looking over some sketches, but when I reached the end of Etta’s road I knew I couldn’t ignore her, not with Sarah missing on top of everything else. Although, I have to admit, I thought Sarah might have been home by then.

‘I know Etta’s got her family with her but I thought she might be grateful to talk to someone outside of it, someone not quite so involved, and I thought I might be able to help with shopping or something. As it happened, she was by herself. Her parents were out doing the shopping.’ Rose paused to cut another cube of steak. Evelyn had cooked it exactly as she liked it, crisp and dark on the outside, pink and tender in the middle.

‘And there was something else. Sarah told me that her mother was having an affair with a married man. It was news to me and I had no idea how she found out until this afternoon. On and off I kept thinking that Sarah’s disappearance might have had something to do with this man.’

‘How come?’ Arthur asked, his fork half-way to his mouth.

‘Joe’s dead, the house is in turmoil and Sarah and Etta haven’t been getting on lately. Sarah’s got it into her head that her mother only cared about Joe – no doubt the fact that Etta doesn’t approve of Sarah’s friends added to her belief. And I suspect Etta had good reason to think as she did, now that I’ve met them.’

‘Oh?’ Evelyn looked up. She no longer doubted what Barry had said about her daughter. Whatever was going on with the Chynoweth family, Rose was determined to get to the bottom of it. She’d already made several discoveries of which the police seemed unaware. Rose’s wineglass was empty. Evelyn refilled it, wondering how she managed to drink without ever seeming to have lifted the glass.

‘I’ll come to that later. Anyway, I began to think that Sarah was going through some teenage crisis. She’s also got a boyfriend but Etta didn’t know that until Saturday night. Sarah’s never mentioned him, let alone introduced him to her mother. Maybe she thought she would disapprove of him too. Anyway, she arranged to meet him on Sunday, with Etta’s approval.

‘I think Sarah, wrongly, came to the conclusion that her mother put everyone, including her married boyfriend, before her, and that’s why I wanted to talk to Etta, to make sure this wasn’t simply some scheme of Sarah’s. I wondered if she’d stayed out on purpose either to punish Etta or to gain her attention.’

‘I see,’ Arthur said. ‘So if her mother called in the police Sarah would know she was worried and that she cared. Sort of pitting herself against this married man for her mother’s love. It would be a very cruel thing to do under the circumstances.’

‘Yes. But you know what teenage girls can be like.’

‘No,’ Arthur said quickly. ‘And I’m not sure that we ever did, not where you were concerned.’

Rose smiled and patted his hand as he reached for a slice of French bread. ‘But you thought I was wonderful anyway.’

Evelyn snorted. ‘Not always, my dear. Go on, you can’t just stop there. You were gone ages.’

Point taken, Mother dear, Rose thought. ‘Etta was in a daze. I asked her if she had been in touch with the police, which she
had, and she told me they were taking it seriously. She’d already tried all her friends – yes, all right.’ She had not missed the look which passed between her parents in recognition of the similar situation in which they had found themselves earlier. ‘I asked her if she could think of any reason why Sarah hadn’t come home, but she couldn’t. “I only knew of Mark’s existence on Saturday,” she told me.’ Rose took a sip of her wine, so much talking was making her thirsty, then she continued relating the events of the rest of the afternoon.

‘There are times when I think she hates me, Rose,’ Etta had said sadly. ‘But I honestly can’t believe she’d have done something like this on purpose.’

Rose had tried to comfort her, to reassure her that Sarah did not hate her but was simply going through a patch of adolescent insecurity and really wanted nothing more than Etta’s love. She had seen the longing in Sarah’s eyes when they had last spoken. The girl wanted to have things put right but she was not quite mature enough to know how to go about it herself.

Etta had made them tea and they sat outside in the shade to drink it, protected by the colourful umbrella over the garden table. It was some time before Rose had the courage to ask if Sarah had said anything about seeing two men on the road on Thursday night when Joe died.

‘No, not a word,’ Etta had replied emphatically. ‘My God, you don’t think she knows something about Joe’s death and that’s why she’s disappeared, do you?’

The more she had thought about it the more certain Rose was that this was the case. Why else would Sarah have mentioned it to her and not her mother? It was not, as she had at first imagined and Jack had later suggested, the highly charged imagination of a grieving teenager. Sarah really had seen something. ‘I don’t know. I’m afraid I broke my promise to Sarah, Etta. I told the police what she confided in me.’ Rose ran through what Sarah had said and hoped she had imparted the facts without giving Etta further cause for alarm.

‘I’m glad you did, Rose. They’re likely to take more notice if they realise you are worried as well. Oh, God, I wish she was
here. I need her right now and there’re so many things I wish I’d said to her.’ Tears filled Etta’s eyes. She pulled a crumpled tissue from the pocket of her summer dress and blew her nose. ‘I love her, Rose, even if she doesn’t think so.’

‘I know you do.’

‘My parents and in-laws are doing their best, but it’s hit them hard and they’re not coping very well. Naturally they all expected to die before any of us. Even Ed’s parents are going about in a daze. And although they’re not saying anything, I know they believe that something’s happened to Sarah as well.’

They had sat in silence for several minutes. Rose gave Etta time to regain her composure before asking the question which she felt, deep down, she had no right to ask, but the answer to which might matter. ‘Is there anything else troubling you?’

‘Not really,’ she sniffed, shaking her head. But when she looked into Rose’s eyes Rose knew that there was, that what Sarah had told her was true and that Etta had convinced herself that Joe’s death was her punishment for having an affair with a married man. ‘I … oh, God. Rose, if I tell you something will you swear it’ll go no further?’

‘Of course it won’t.’

‘I’ve been seeing someone for just over a year. We don’t meet often because it isn’t possible. He’s married. I’ve tried to break it off, but I couldn’t. I know it’s wrong, and so does he, but there it is. I’ve made sure no one knows, not even Joe and Sarah. It sounds so feeble, but we got to know one another and just couldn’t help ourselves. I suppose everyone in the same situation says the same thing. I was lonely and so was he. There were things in his past which had led to the marriage going wrong. He was honest enough to tell me right from the start that there was no chance of him leaving his wife.

‘Once I’d got used to being on my own again I imagined I’d meet someone else somewhere along the line. It never happened, not until I met – well, not until I met this man. It isn’t easy to find anyone suitable at my age. They’re either already married or in a relationship or out for one thing. He’s away at the moment and I’m dreading telling him about Joe. He might think he’s obliged to keep seeing me out of pity.’

‘I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to see him.’

‘Not any more. He didn’t say, but I got the impression this holiday with his wife is some sort of turning point. I think he wants to try again with her, that what I’ve said has sunk in. I hope it works, I really don’t need the extra strain at the moment. But now he might think I couldn’t stand the added blow of separation.’

Rose saw how lucky she was in that respect: the men who showed an interest in her were free agents. She had no such moral decisions to make. And then she looked closely at Etta and understood her dilemma. She was large-boned and firm-featured with thick fairish hair cut in a short bob. There was nothing striking about her, nothing to make heads turn. It wasn’t until you got to know her that her attraction became obvious. She was kind and gentle and a good listener and always tried to act for the best, a woman in whose company you felt important and cared for. Rose hoped that whoever the man was, he had treated her well and had wanted something more than extra-marital sex. Etta had made a moral judgement and was prepared for the affair to end. She had stopped herself from mentioning the man’s name and Rose did not ask it. She listened as Etta described him and his lifestyle and saw the first spark of animation in her face since she had learned that her son was dead. If he did break off the relationship it was going to hurt Etta more than she realised.

Forty-five minutes had elapsed when Etta’s parents came back with several bags of groceries. Rose chatted to them briefly then said it was time she was going.

Her mother had not told Sarah about the affair. So how had she found out about it?

Etta walked her to the gate. ‘Thanks for coming, Rose. I’ll let you know if there’s any news.’

‘Etta, these friends of Sarah’s, you’re sure one of them isn’t putting her up?’

‘No, the police have already checked. I gave them their telephone numbers. Oh, I know Sarah thinks I disapprove of them on principle, just because they are her friends, but I don’t trust them, Rose, and I’m sure they take drugs. That’s why I
was so worried about Sarah, I thought they’d draw her in. I just wish I’d been more tactful.’

‘Amy and Roz, you mean?’

‘Yes. Do you know them?’

‘No, Sarah mentioned their names. Do you know where they live?’

‘Yes, but Amy’ll be at work now.’

Surprisingly, Etta told her where they could be found without asking Rose why she wanted to know. But Etta had more than Rose’s intended actions on her mind.

‘You went to see these girls?’ Evelyn asked, trying not to show how aghast she was at Rose’s audacity. Before they left she would find a few minutes to have a further chat with Barry Rowe. Whatever Rose thought, she did need someone to keep an eye on her or at least to try to dissuade her from some of her rasher behaviour.

Rose nodded. They had finished eating and the plates were pushed to the middle of the table. Shadows had lengthened on the lawn but there was still some daylight.

‘Yes. Amy works in a pub during the afternoons. I was lucky, it wasn’t busy, just a few of the regular solid drinkers. She said she didn’t know that Sarah had been reported missing. I believed her. I asked her about Mark, too – he turns out to be Amy’s brother, by the way, but she seems to have little to do with him.’ Rose recounted the rest of the conversation.