Black Valley (18 page)

Dresler went back inside. Immediately he’d left, Jess called Elinor’s number. She’d listed it on her mobile before she’d left the office. There was no reply, so she left
a message. She said that she was staying at the tower, and that Blake had come by looking for her. She asked her to call back to let her know she was all right, or come to the tower and meet her
there that evening, when they would have returned. Then she called DS Lauren Bonetti.

‘Hiya.’ Bonetti picked up immediately.

‘Jess Mayhew here. Sorry to disturb you.’ Jess paused. ‘I’ve just had a visit from Blake Thomas.’

‘Oh yes?’ Bonetti was all ears.

‘Yes. I’m staying up at Cwm Du at the moment. He followed us up here, I think. He’s looking for Elinor Powell.’

‘Do you know where she is?’

‘Camping, I think. That’s what she told me. Somewhere nearby.’ Jess paused. ‘I’m worried about the situation, to tell the truth. Why d’you think he’s
looking for her? You don’t think he’d harm her, do you?’

There was a pause.

‘I don’t think so.’ She hesitated. ‘But I can’t be sure. To tell the truth, I have my doubts about him. I’ve interviewed him several times, and I’m
convinced he’s lying. But I’ve got no evidence.’ She gave a sigh of frustration. ‘And he hasn’t committed any crime by going up there and following her around. So
unfortunately, there’s nothing much I can do at the moment.’

‘Oh.’ Jess was disappointed. ‘Well, I left Elinor a message, asking her to come by if she needs help. I’m at a hotel called T
ŵ
r Tal, the Tall Tower.’

‘I know the one.’

There was a pause.

‘Look, I really am worried. Blake seemed very disturbed. Unhinged, almost.’

‘I’m sorry. But there’s simply nothing I can do right now. It’s Saturday and three quarters of the force are at the stadium policing the rugby. I’ve got no one
spare and there’s no clear evidence that a crime is going to be committed. I’d come myself, but I’m the duty officer.’ Jess could hear the frustration in her voice.
‘If anything changes, make sure you call me at once.’

Jess sighed. ‘OK. Will do.’

She heard Bonetti click off her phone, and did the same.

When she went back up to the room in the tower, she found Dresler leaning halfway out of the window and talking urgently into his phone. As soon as he saw Jessica, he said something quickly,
then ended the call.

‘Oh, sorry about that,’ he said, turning to her. ‘Just had to call my editor about a piece I’m writing on the new Peter Doig show. Only way I could get a signal was by
practically toppling to my doom.’

He went over to his suitcase, pulled out his camera – a proper old-fashioned one with various different lenses – and started fiddling with it.

Jess went over to the bedside table, picked up her handbag, and began to look through it, checking she had everything she needed for the day. She had the uncomfortable sense that Dresler was
keeping something from her, but she couldn’t be sure.

‘Why did you tell Blake you and I were coming up here?’ She did her best to sound casual.

‘It just came up in conversation. I told him we were seeing each other. I saw no reason not to. Mostly we talked about the history of the tower – Augustus John, Gill, and so
on.’

‘So you see quite a lot of each other, then?’

‘In a business context, yes. Not socially.’ Dresler looked up at her. ‘Why are you quizzing me like this?’

‘I’m just concerned about Elinor, that’s all. Do you know the family?’

‘I’ve had some dealings with Isobel through the gallery.’ Dresler packed his camera into its case. ‘She seems nice enough. Devoted to Blake, I get the impression. Elinor
I’ve only met once or twice. She struck me as rather insecure. Bitter about her lack of success. She showed me her work once. She’s technically very good, but there’s nothing
confrontational about her paintings.’

Jess couldn’t help feeling irritated by his patronizing tone. Why paintings should have to be confrontational she couldn’t imagine. No wonder Elinor was bitter.

She didn’t want to provoke an argument, so she didn’t pursue the conversation further. Instead, she put on her jacket, an old waxed Barbour, and slung her bag over her shoulder.

‘Come on. Let’s go.’

They went downstairs, and set off by car. Their plan was to mosey along the winding valley, stopping to see the sights. Dresler had read up on them, and was keen to see everything it had to
offer: the crooked church, where landslides had twisted the masonry out of shape, so that the nave was said to be slumped like Christ’s body’s in death, and the chancel fallen sideways,
like his head; the well where an early Celtic saint offered hospitality to travellers but was murdered, and which afterwards became the site of pilgrimages; the tiny church, said to be the smallest
in Britain, with carvings by Eric Gill, that Elinor had mentioned as one of her favourite spots; and then on to a small market town, where they planned to eat their evening meal.

The day went well. Dresler was by nature an inquisitive soul, and he liked to record whatever he found, taking photographs, jotting down notes, picking up leaflets and postcards. In the car, he
pored over them, evidently fascinated by all that he had encountered. Jess herself was content to absorb the atmosphere of the places they visited: she’d gaze at the face on a statue, turn
her head up to a vaulted roof, stand on a hillside and try to imagine what life would have been like there centuries before. It wasn’t difficult: in Cwm Du time seemed to stand still, the
very air, trapped by the steep hills on each flank, hovered in a corridor of silence, broken only by the lowing of cows, the baaing of sheep, or the distant chug of a tractor. After a while, she
began to feel she had entered a different dimension, where only the present existed. A new mood of sensuality, awakened by last night’s kiss in the monastery ruins, had come over her, and was
continuing to show itself today. As they explored and walked and talked and drove, she experienced the world anew: the smoothness of stone under her fingers; the sigh of the wind as it blew around
her ears; the subtle, sharp scents of musk and mould, of warmth and cold, in her nose; the throb of colour, whether the green of the vegetation or the purple of the hills, in her eyes. Little by
little, she sensed herself letting go, reluctantly, of all the problems that beset her in her day-to-day life. All except one – that of Elinor. But even that began to recede as the hours
passed.

The day was spent exploring the valley, only stopping briefly at lunchtime for a sandwich. By early evening, they were tired out, and it began to rain, so they drove to a small market town, and
dived into a cosy pub. They ordered some local ale, and some rather overpriced but superior pub grub. When the food came, they ate hungrily, both famished after the day’s outing. Afterwards
they sat talking and watching the rain beat at the window, Jess with a coffee, Dresler with another pint. Neither of them wanted to move; so they sat there as the bar filled up, and the air got
warmer, the noise level rose, and the drinkers filled their glasses. By closing time the place was positively rowdy.

‘We’d better be getting back, I suppose,’ said Jess. ‘That drive’s pretty hair-raising in places. Especially in the dark.’

Dresler nodded, taking another sip of his pint, but he didn’t stir.

The barman clanged the bell for the second time, and Jess got up.

‘I’ll just nip to the loo, and then we’ll be off.’

Jess got up and walked over to the ladies’, getting a blast of cold air as she opened the door. Inside, it was unheated, so she didn’t hang about. She went to the loo, came out, and
washed her hands, inspecting her face in the mirror as she did. She wasn’t altogether happy with what she saw. Her hair was a disgrace, sticking up in a great frizz around her face, and her
nose was red. But there was a sparkle in her eyes and a flush to her cheeks that made her look excited, happy. She scrabbled in her bag for her comb, her powder compact, and some lipsalve, and did
what she could to improve matters. As she was returning them to her bag, she caught sight of her mobile. There was a call waiting for her.

Damn
, she thought. She hadn’t heard it ringing in the pub, what with the noise of the revellers. She was about to check the number, when the phone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘Jess. It’s me, Elinor.’

There was a sound of roaring in the background. Jess couldn’t make out what it was.

‘Are you OK? Where are you?’

‘I’m at the tower. I got your message. I’m waiting for you. But Blake’s here.’

As she spoke, Jess felt a pang of anxiety.

‘He’s angry with me. I’m scared he’s going to . . .’

The roaring intensified. Whether it was the sound of trees, or the engine of Elinor’s car, or just the signal breaking up, Jess couldn’t be sure.

‘OK. Wait for me there. I’ll come back right away.’

There would be people at the hotel, Jess told herself. The faithful retainer. Maybe some other guests would have arrived.

Elinor went quiet. It was hard to tell whether she’d stopped talking, or whether the signal had died.

The roaring in the background died away, and there was silence.

Jess immediately called back, several times, but she couldn’t get through. So she went inside the pub, found Dresler, and told him what had happened. They left straight away.

‘I wonder what he’s up to,’ Dresler said as they left the town and headed out onto the wild country road that led over the moor and down into Cwm Du.

‘She sounded terrified.’

‘But what does he want from her?’

Jess thought of the missing case notes. It must have been Blake who’d stolen them, slipping in under cover of darkness. Why had he done that? She cast her mind back to the sessions
she’d had with Elinor. She’d evidently been withholding something. What could it be? Something connected with the theft of the painting, or her mother’s death? Something Blake
wanted kept hidden? A secret between the two of them, perhaps?

‘I don’t know,’ she said, in answer to Jacob’s question. ‘I wish I did.’

It was a rainy night as they drove into Cwm Du. The road led over bare moorland, and as they passed, a herd of sheep loomed into view, their long faces ghostly white in the
darkness. To her left, she could see the side of the mountain, sloping up towards the summit; to her right, there was a drop. It was a gentle slope most of the way – she remembered it from
the drive up, in the daylight – but from time to time it got steep, and there were metal barriers along the edge, so she had to take care.

After what seemed like an age, the road wound down through fields into the valley, and into woodland. They made their way back to the hotel, Jess peering through the silver needles of rain in
the headlights, Dresler looking out for the signpost to T
ŵ
r Tal.

When he saw it, they turned off the road, and found themselves once again on the long, narrow driveway with the trees clustering overhead. On arrival at the tower, the battered four-wheel drive
was still in the car park, but there appeared to be no other visitors.

She parked the car and they got out, walking quickly over the gravel to the hotel. There were no lights on inside, except in the hallway. They let themselves in – the retainer had given
them a key to the front door – and peered into the sitting room. The dying embers of the fire were still in the grate, but there was no one there.

‘I wonder what’s going on.’ Dresler seemed rattled.

‘D’you have a number for Blake?’

He nodded, took out his phone and tried to call, but there was no signal.

Jess also took her mobile out of her pocket, intending to call Elinor’s number, registered on the log, but the same thing happened.

‘You’d better stay here.’ Jess was thinking fast. ‘Take a look around the place, see if you can find anyone. I’ll go outside and try Elinor again. If the
signal’s down, I’ll drive off a little way, see if that works. Then I’ll come back.’

‘OK. Don’t go too far, though.’ There was fear in his voice. The empty tower and these strange shenanigans with Blake and Elinor were spooking them both.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Jess went outside. It had stopped raining and a wind had blown up. She stood in the porch, but the signal didn’t come back. She walked out towards the car park, near to the rustling trees,
to no avail. It was odd, she thought. That morning, the phone had been working perfectly well. But she knew these remote valleys in Wales were like that: the signal was always unreliable around
these parts, flickering in and out, for no apparent reason. However, if you moved around a little, you could usually catch it in the end.

She went over to the car, her feet crunching on the gravel. She unlocked the door, got in, started the engine, backed out, turned, and drove off a little way. Still no signal. She drove further,
until she was halfway down the drive, the trees dark and dense above her. She was scared now, without Dresler beside her, although she told herself there was no reason to be.

She tried the phone again. This time, there was a signal. Only one bar, but it might be enough, she thought. She called Elinor’s number. The signal surged in and out, like a defective
radio, but it seemed to be functional, up to a point. Once again, there was no reply, so she texted her a message:

Am at tower. Where are you? Please call right away.

She clicked off the message. She wondered for a moment whether she should phone the girls and Mari, just to see if everything was all right at home. But it was late, and besides,
she’d spoken to them only that morning. It was only because she was feeling panicky, she reasoned, that she wanted to hear their voices. She’d do better to call them in the morning.

She turned the car round in the driveway, which took a while, as it was narrow, with a shallow ditch either side, and in the darkness she couldn’t really see what she was doing. Then she
headed back to the tower. As she did, she noticed a car parked off the side of the driveway, almost hidden under the trees. It was Blake’s black sedan.