Still Water (35 page)

“My husband is working,” she said.

“That’s okay,” Baxter told her. “We just need to talk to you, Mrs. Little.”

She gestured for them to sit down, and sat on the edge of an armchair herself and lit a cigarette. Baxter appeared unhappy, and Matt thought they both had reason to feel that way. After the call had come to meet Baxter at his office he hadn’t known what to expect. He’d thought maybe there was new evidence, which there had been, just not the kind he’d expected. Baxter had told him about Kate’s print matching the one found at Bryan’s house. Once he’d gotten over his surprise when Baxter told him how he’d got it, Matt had related what he’d learned from Jordan Osborne.

There has to be a reason Kate and Ella denied knowing each other,” Matt had concluded. “And why Kate denied knowing Bryan.”

“You think they’re mixed up in this together?”

It seemed that way Matt had thought, though quite how he wasn’t sure. A call to the harbour master had determined that Ella was out fishing, so they’d decided to confront Kate Little with what they knew first. On the way over Baxter had said Matt should be the one to question her about what he’d learned from Osborne, since he had heard it all first hand.

“Mrs. Little we want to ask you some questions about Bryan Roderick,” Matt began. He paused, allowing her a moment to absorb this. “I talked to a friend of yours yesterday, Jordan Osborne. He told me that three weeks ago he saw you and Bryan Roderick arguing on the dock.” He watched for her reaction, but other than a slight widening of her eyes she gave nothing away. “Mrs. Little, last time we spoke you told me you didn’t know Bryan,” he reminded her.

She hesitated for a long moment, but when she spoke her voice was calm. “There doesn’t seem to be any point in denying what you already know, does there? Bryan Roderick and I were having an affair.”

Baxter was looking at a point on the wall. He seemed not to have heard what she said.

“How come you didn’t tell anybody this before?” Matt asked. “We’re talking about a man who’s missing. Possibly dead.”

She didn’t flinch from his gaze. Her eyes seemed almost violet, and though Matt had come here believing there was a strong likelihood that Kate Little was involved in a man’s death, he admitted to himself that she didn’t strike him as capable of murder. If anything she appeared a little sad. But then he’d thought the same thing about Ella.

“I didn’t tell you because it isn’t something I’m proud of. And also because I’d stopped seeing Bryan before he disappeared. There’s nothing I can tell you about that.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

The night you mentioned, at the dock.”

“Ella Young was there too. You told me you didn’t know her either.”

Kate dropped her gaze for a moment. She tapped ash into an ashtray at her side and looked up again.

“I wouldn’t say that I know her. That night was the only time we’ve met. Even then we barely spoke more than a word or two.”

“Tell me about that night. What happened?”

“A few days earlier I’d told Bryan that I didn’t want to see him anymore. That night he surprised me. He’d been drinking. I told him again that I didn’t want to see him, and he became violent. When Ella appeared it made him worse.”

“He hit you?”

Yes.”

“Had he ever done something like that before, Mrs. Little?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “That’s why I told him it was over.” Kate put out her cigarette. “I’m not proud of myself, Mr. Jones.” She glanced towards Baxter. “I can imagine what you’re thinking. A married woman who has affairs, and her husband stuck in a wheelchair. The truth is my marriage was over a long time ago.”

“We’re not here to judge anybody’s moral standards Mrs. Little,” Baxter said.

“Perhaps. Bryan wasn’t the first man I’ve had an affair with. But of course, if you’ve talked to Jordan you already know that. You’ve both met Evan. He’s a difficult man.”

Kate paused and smiled with sad reflection. Matt had the feeling she wanted to explain herself, as if she was afraid of what they would think of her. Or at least what one of them would think of her.

“After his accident I think Evan was afraid I would leave him,” she told them. “We hadn’t been married very long. I think rather than have to face that he tried to drive me away. His personality changed after his accident, he could be very cruel. I admit that I did consider leaving him. That sounds terrible, but you have to understand that Evan sometimes acted as if he resented me, hated me even. But I knew that his moods were partly caused by the drugs he was taking, and I kept hoping he would get better, even though the doctors said he might only have a few years to live. But he didn’t.” She paused for a moment.

“It began with somebody that Evan knew. A friend that worked for him. He and I spent a lot of time together. He was nice to me, understanding. A shoulder to cry on.”

She stared past them, her unseeing gaze fixed on the window.

“I’m sure I don’t need to go into the details of what happened. Evan found out about Chris and me and he’s never let me forget it. Perhaps that’s why I’ve stayed so long with him. Guilt. But I’m human and sometimes I needed somebody to show they cared about me. I don’t think that’s such a terrible thing is it?” She looked at them both, from one to the other, as if expecting an answer.

“Bryan was a bad choice as it turned out,” she said.

All at once the sound of a slow hand-clap filled the silence. They turned to find Evan Little at the open door.

“What a brilliant performance, Kate. What do you think Chief? And you, Mr. Jones isn’t it? Were you taken in by her? I almost feel sorry for her myself. She’s very good at justifying herself. Making it sound as if I’m at fault because my wife turned out to be a goddamned slut.”

His chair made a whirring sound and the tyres hissed across the floor.

“Don’t let me stop you. I missed the first part, but I imagine you’re here to ask her about that fisherman she was fucking. Has she got to the part where she went out the night he disappeared, or were you saving that for later Kate?” He smiled at her, his eyes glittering.

“Is that true?” Baxter asked.

She looked at her husband, and it was as if she was surprised by what she saw. As if her eyes had been opened. She nodded. “I was out that night. I couldn’t sleep and it was hot. Sometimes I walk a little at night.”

“What time would that have been?” Matt said.

“I’ni not sure.”

“It was around three thirty when you came back,” Evan offered helpfully, staring at his wife with open hostility. “And I know she wasn’t in bed when I heard the shots. That would have been around two. I remember looking at my watch. It took a few minutes to get myself out of bed. Not an easy process as you can imagine, but when I went into Kate’s room she wasn’t there.”

“You heard shots?” Matt said.

“They woke me. Two I think, at least.”

“Is what your husband says true?”

“I suppose so, I didn’t look at the time.”

“Did you see anybody that night, Mrs. Little?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You’re sure? How about Ella Young?”

“I told you. I didn’t see anyone.”

“Did you hear shots?”

“No.”

Evan made a snorting sound of derision.

“How often did you see Bryan Roderick?” Matt asked.

“Maybe twice a week.”

“Always at his house?”

She shook her head. “Usually. Not always.”

“Did you have keys?”

“Yes.”

“Were you at the house the morning after he vanished?”

Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to return his keys. I hadn’t seen Bryan since the week before. After what happened at the dock I didn’t want to go to the house in case I ran into him.”

“So you chose that morning?”

“Yes.”

“What time was this?”

“I don’t know. Early.”

“Did you see anybody?”

“No.”

Matt paused. She hadn’t flinched at any of his questions. “Did you see anything in the house that made you think something may have happened to Bryan? Signs of a struggle maybe?”

“No. It looked quite normal.”

“The police believe somebody cleaned up in there, maybe trying to get rid of evidence. Was that you? Were you trying to hide the fact that you’d ever been there?”

She hesitated. “Why would I do that? I didn’t know then that anything had happened to Bryan.”

“Maybe you did know,” Matt said. “Mrs. Little, did you kill Bryan?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Maybe you ran into him and there was some kind of fight?”

“No.”

“Did you see anybody else that night?”

“You already asked me that question. The answer is still no. I saw nobody.”

Evan Little wore a sardonic smile as he watched, obviously enjoying himself. Matt wondered briefly whether Evan himself could have had anything to do with Bryan’s disappearance. He had motive enough, but it seemed unlikely given his disability. Kate lit another cigarette. She appeared calm, but underneath he sensed her tension. Once again Matt recalled the look she and Ella had exchanged on the post office steps. He searched for some inconsistency in Kate’s story. Her husband had heard shots which had woken him around the same time as Carl Johnson had reported hearing something that night. How could Kate not have heard them too?

Matt turned to her husband. “You said you heard shots that night. You’re certain of the time?”

“I looked at my watch.”

“How do you explain the fact you didn’t hear anything Mrs. Little?”

“Yes, Kate. We’d all love to hear,” Evan said. “The acoustics on the point are very good. Sound carries a long way in the cove.”

“I can’t explain it.”

Something clicked in Matt’s mind. Gears slipped into place. “Acoustics,” he said, half to himself. He was aware that they were all looking at him. “Mr. Little, did you hear anything else that night?”

Evan looked puzzled for a moment, then recollection dawned in his expression. “Now you come to mention it, I did hear something. It must have been around an hour after I heard the shots. Before Kate came back to the house.”

“What was it?” Matt asked, a vague premonition constricting his throat.

“It was a boat. I heard the sound of a boat leaving the cove.”

Ella threw the switch on the hauler and waited while the spool wound in the line. She went through the motions as she worked, manoeuvring the Santorini between her buoys and hauling traps with the ease born of years of practice. A trap emerged from the sea streaming water and Gordon took out the lobsters it contained, measuring the carapace of each before consigning the keepers to the tank and the others back to the sea. He looped on fresh bait while Ella reattached the buoy, and then she opened the throttle and moved on to the next one while Gordon released the trap so that it slid back over the side and vanished with a soft splash. Ella worked automatically, barely aware of what she was doing.

An image was fixed in her mind of Matt as she had seen him earlier that morning outside Sally Brewster’s place. Every detail about him was imprinted indelibly on her memory. The way his clothes were creased, his unshaven features, bleary eyed from drinking. She still felt as she had the moment she’d laid eyes on him, as if somebody had dealt her a physical blow. She had experienced an instant of confusion, but his expression as he’d stared back at her, indecipherable but without remorse or guilt, had tripped a switch in her mind and a cascade of tangled thoughts and emotions had jostled for place. She had felt as she did now, a mixture of fierce anger and humiliation, but more than either of those things, a deep sense of wounded hurt.

When her mother had counselled her the previous night that she believed Matt to be a good man, Ella had agreed. The strain of everything she’d endured these last months and weeks had taken a heavy toll. A deep weariness had sunk into the fibre of her being and had sapped her strength little by little. She had begun to feel she no longer had the will or the stamina to fight the likes of Howard or Jake, or to carry the burden of the responsibility she felt for her mother and for Kate. She couldn’t bear any longer the weight of her own sense of guilt. Everywhere she went she felt the accusing stares of people she knew, and heard the whisper of voices in her wake like a constant rustling in the grass of some stealthy predator as it drew closer. But Matt had remained at her side, a presence she could rely on. Her mother had understood how she felt and had said they should put their trust in him, and finally she’d agreed.

Once she had made the decision to tell him everything she’d experienced an immediate sense of release and she’d had the best night’s sleep that she could remember having for a long time. She’d hoped that when he learned the truth he would be able to look past the facts and see that sometimes life isn’t as straightforward as he wanted it to be. Now she thanked God that she had learned before it was too late that Matt Jones was just like every other man she’d ever encountered in her life who had let her down. She wiped away the tears that stung her eyes and bit her lip until it bled, the sharp pain blotting out the hurt she felt, allowing her to nurture her anger. Her anger renewed her strength. The hell with him. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need any man.

“Ella?”

Gordon’s voice penetrated her thoughts and she snapped to.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I was just thinking about something. What is it?”

“I need a place to stay for a little while. I was wondering if I could stay on the Santorini for a couple of days?”

“But why?” Ella asked, and then guessed the answer. “Is it your dad?”

“He wants me to stop working for you.”

Ella sighed. “I don’t want to come between you and your dad.”

Gordon shook his head stubbornly. “He can’t tell me what to do.”

Ella looked away, uncertain what she should do. It was hot, sweat trickled uncomfortably down her stomach inside her protective oilskin bib and pants. Sunlight flickered on the water. It wasn’t always like this. In winter the seas could be heaving, the wind cold and biting like a blade. It was hard, dangerous work, and if Gordon was man enough for the job, he was man enough to make his own decisions. His faith in her, at least, had never wavered.