The Dungeon House (Lake District Mysteries) (21 page)

‘A quick bite?’ She glanced at Les, who patted his stomach, and gave her a thumbs-up sign. ‘If it’s okay with Mr Bryant, it’s fine by me. The Eskdale Arms?’

‘Perfect. When shall I see you?’

‘Give us three quarters of an hour. I want another word with Joanna’s landlord. It’s only fair to warn him that his guest isn’t coming back to collect the rest of her things any time soon.’

‘Very caring of you, but …’

‘Talk to you later,’ she said.

She ended the call, and rang Maggie to give her a quick update. ‘Do me a favour, and run a quick PNC check on Quiggin. Let’s see if he’s got any history.’

‘Quiggin was freaked out by Lily’s resemblance to his daughter, you think?’ Les asked, as they sped away from Lower Drigg.

‘Stranger things have happened.’

‘Why take her? What would he do once he had her?’

‘That’s always the question, when a man abducts a pretty teenager. There is no plan, just a route map to disaster. The girl is frightened. She screams. The man panics …’

He digested this. ‘Anyone ever said that you have too much imagination for a detective?’

‘Frequently.’

‘They were wrong. Just make sure your ideas don’t run too far ahead of the evidence.’

Moments after they reached Ravenglass, Maggie called back. ‘I’ve just spoken to Billie. Shona and Durham have been picked up. No aggravation from him, bucketfuls of tears from her. Perfect outcome, eh?’ Not for Josh Durham and his father, Hannah thought. ‘Any joy with Quiggin?’

‘Depends what you wanted to hear. He doesn’t have a record.’

Hannah wasn’t too surprised. If Quiggin had abducted Lily, she didn’t suppose it was because he was a sexual predator. Unless, that is, the reason for the breakdown of his marriage was that he’d taken an unhealthy interest in Carrie. It might be worth tracking down the ex-wife, and seeing what she had to say.

When he opened the door to them, Quiggin swayed slightly, as if the sight of them knocked him off balance. Judging by the smell of his breath, he’d had a drink or two since their last conversation. Alcohol might loosen his tongue.

‘Chief Inspector! I wasn’t expecting to see you again.’

‘Just called for a quick update.’ This was so vague as to be meaningless, but Quiggin nodded, as if reassured. ‘May we …?’

‘All right.’ He sounded exhausted, and his shoulders slumped as he accompanied them down the passageway. Squeezing into his tiny office, Hannah found it hard to tear her eyes away from the photograph of the dead daughter. She’d have been over forty now. The same age as Joanna Footit.

‘If you’re wondering,’ he said, ‘I’ve not heard from Joanna. I presume there’s still no sign of her?’

‘We simply wanted to let you know,’ Hannah said disingenuously, ‘there has been a development.’

‘Oh yes?’ He seemed agitated. The bottle of Johnnie Walker and empty tumbler on his desk might explain his twitchiness. Or perhaps there was another reason.

‘Her car has been found by the dunes at Drigg. Seems like she left it there overnight.’

‘You don’t think … she’s done anything silly, do you?’

‘Like what?’

‘Well … harming herself.’ He coughed, as if embarrassed. ‘Committing suicide.’

‘It’s too early to rule anything in or out. Did she seem depressed to you?’

‘On the contrary.’ His brow furrowed. ‘She did say something about putting things right.’

‘Putting things right? How, exactly?’

Quiggin scrunched his unlovely features into a parody of a man racking his brains. ‘Oh, I can’t remember. Something about being glad to be back in the Lake District, a chance to put things right. She said it in passing, and I didn’t cross-examine her.’

‘Is she an attractive woman, would you say?’

‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

Hannah said quietly, ‘It’s a straightforward question, Mr Quiggin.’

‘Are you suggesting that I harassed the poor woman? Propositioned her, or something?’

‘I’m not suggesting anything. But you found her attractive?’

‘Just because I’m single, I’m fair game, am I?’ His face was bright red. ‘I don’t mess about with my guests. It wouldn’t be … seemly. Or sensible, given that people can rant and rave about the slightest thing on the Internet. I suppose you’ve read that review of this place when that Scottish woman made a fuss, and said I was creepy?’

The drink was talking. They might be getting somewhere.

‘I’m not aware of that.’

‘I’ve had enough of women, let me tell you.’ His voice was shaking. ‘Most of those I’ve met have been bad news. I’m happier on my own.’

‘All I asked was whether she was attractive.’

‘The answer is no, not really.’ His voice was shaking. ‘If you want the truth, she looked rather odd. Very tall and thin, with lots of vivid red hair. Perhaps she dyes it, I don’t know about these things. All I can tell you is this. She seemed like a nice woman, and I tried to make her welcome. Satisfied?’

‘Have you any idea what she did after she left here for that talk in the pub about the history of murder?’

‘None whatsoever.’ His jaw jutted forward. ‘That’s … that’s my last word on the subject. Now if that’s all …’

Les picked up the photograph of Carrie North. ‘Does this remind you of anyone, Mr Quiggin?’

‘Put that down!’ Quiggin reached out, and snatched the picture from Les’ hand, tearing it slightly. Tears formed in the man’s eyes. ‘Now see what you’ve done! I think you’d better leave.’

‘Sorry, Mr Quiggin, we don’t want to upset you,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s just that there is a strong resemblance between your daughter in this photo and …’

‘She has my wife’s features, not mine. You’re not suggesting some other man was her father?’ He was crying now. ‘It’s an absolute lie!’

‘No, no. We’re not suggesting anything like that.’ Hannah kept her voice calm, although her thoughts were racing. ‘Please don’t upset yourself, Mr Quiggin. I wasn’t referring to your wife, but to Lily Elstone.’

He wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. ‘Gray’s girl? She was much younger.’

‘Lily’s looks were mature for her years.’

He looked at her as if she were insane. ‘I’m not with you. Lily was short. Carrie was blonde, Lily wasn’t.’

‘Lily dyed her hair blonde shortly before she went missing,’ Les said.

‘Give me a second.’ The scrunched-up expression of concentration reappeared. ‘Lily was much younger. Carrie was a woman, not a schoolgirl. You surely can’t believe it’s important.’

Hannah felt an urge to bang her head against the wall. Surely Quiggin wasn’t a good enough actor to lie so plausibly? It seemed they were no further forward as regards either Lily Elstone’s fate or Joanna’s.

She said quietly, ‘When we deal with old, difficult cases, we need to look at every possible angle. That’s all we are doing. I’m sorry about your photograph.’

Quiggin shut his eyes. ‘It’s all right, Chief Inspector. I’m overwrought … that’s all. I’ve had a few drinks today, but still I can’t forget. You see, today is the anniversary.’

‘Anniversary?’

‘Of the day Carrie died.’

‘Coincidences?’ Hannah asked once they were outside. ‘Or something else?’

It was drizzling again, and Les hitched up his coat collar. ‘Hate to say it, but I reckon he’s telling the truth about Lily.’

‘We’ll soon find out. Let’s see if Gray Elstone is still in the office.’

Her call went straight through to the accountant. Yindee had probably gone home in a huff by now. Hannah told him about the discovery of Joanna’s abandoned car.

‘Good God, that’s dreadful! The poor thing. I never imagined she would … it must all have become too much.’

‘One possibility is that she’s left the area voluntarily.’

‘Why would she do that? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘We don’t have any answers at the moment, I’m afraid, but our colleagues are doing all they can to find out where she is.’

He made a gulping noise. ‘I told you, she has a history of attempting suicide. For all I know, there have been other incidents during the past twenty years. I wonder …’

‘Yes?’

‘I wonder if she came back here to say goodbye.’

‘We’re keeping an open mind, Mr Elstone.’ He mumbled something inarticulate in reply. ‘By the way, there was something else. This resemblance between your daughter and Carrie, the girl who died in the crash.’

‘Yes, yes, I’ve been thinking about that. I did wonder if you were implying that Alvaro Quiggin was in some way responsible for snatching Lily. I have to say I find it impossible to believe. He’s not like that.’

He’s not like that
. Hannah had often heard it said about people who proved eventually to be very much like that. ‘When Lily met him, was her hair blonde, the same colour as when she disappeared?’

‘Why do you ask?’ When Hannah didn’t answer, he fell silent for a few moments. ‘No, I’m certain that it wasn’t. She wanted to change things in her life. She was fed up of Anya, and her dearest wish was to get away from her, and come and live with me.’

‘And she dyed her hair shortly before her disappearance?’

‘Oh yes. Then she insisted on having her picture taken.
She loved posing for the camera.
The new me
, that’s how she described the look.’

‘I see. Thanks, you’ve been helpful.’

‘I’m reluctant to say this, Chief Inspector, but all this talk about photographs doesn’t seem likely to get you anywhere.’

‘I understand the point you’re making, Mr Elstone.’ She went through the usual rigmarole about needing to consider the case from every angle. It was the truth, so why did it sound so false when she tried to explain? As she ended the call, she felt her stomach churn. They were no closer to finding Lily Elstone, and now someone else was missing.

‘Cheer up,’ Les said, as they walked into the pub. ‘Your feller will be here in a minute. What are you having?’

His eyes wandered toward the bar, where an elderly customer was ogling the Polish barmaid and her equally well-endowed colleague, but Hannah’s main concern was to make sure Scott Durham wasn’t here, drowning his sorrows. After talking to one man whose daughter was dead, and another whose daughter had disappeared never to return, she could do without a close encounter with a man whose son would soon be locked up for years. There was only so much gloom and doom you could take in one afternoon. Let someone else break the bad news.

A table next to the window was free. Leave the men to drink in the view of the barmaids; she’d rather contemplate the estuary. Even on this grey, grim day, there was something magical about the shimmer of light on the waves. She was only vaguely aware of the village’s past, but the Romans
had known what they were doing when they’d chosen to build a port here.

‘Here he is,’ Les said, as Daniel strolled into the bar. ‘The history man. What do you fancy? I’m buying.’

Hannah laughed. ‘I see there’s a two-for-one offer on the light bites.’

Daniel grinned. ‘Orange juice for me, please. I can’t face water, I’ve seen enough in the past hour to last a lifetime. Thank God the drains didn’t collapse during my talk. Half the audience might have drowned.’

He dropped a kiss on Hannah’s cold cheek. ‘You look tired. Rough day?’

‘I’m just hoping Joanna Footit hasn’t actually drowned.’

He squeezed her hand. ‘Want to tell me about it?’

While Les bought drinks and food, she recounted the events of her day. Daniel was a good listener, and his intensity when he concentrated was flattering. Would he be equally interested in her once she moved out of Tarn Cottage?

‘This photograph of Carina North,’ he said. ‘There’s a close likeness to Lily Elstone despite the age gap?’

‘At first glance, definitely. Lily inherited her mother’s good looks. She’d have passed for nineteen or twenty, no problem.’

‘Did Robbie Dean know Lily?’

‘Doubtful. Elstone doesn’t do his accounts, and I’m sure they don’t mix in the same circles. Dean doesn’t come over as a social animal. Why?’

‘Carrie was Dean’s girlfriend. What if he saw Lily, and was spooked by the resemblance?’

Les banged his fist on the table. ‘Good call. We focused
on Quiggin because he was Carrie’s father. But Dean …’

‘Was responsible for Carrie’s death,’ Hannah interrupted. ‘Nobody’s mentioned any other relationships with women. That car crash changed his life. It ruined his career in football, but he also lost his girlfriend. It’s easy to assume a man like that doesn’t care about anyone but himself, those are the vibes he gives out. But what if he was obsessed with Carrie?’

‘And what if years later,’ Les muttered, ‘he knocked a pretty girl off her bike, only to find she was Carrie’s lookalike?’

‘There’s more,’ Daniel said. ‘I asked about Dean because I’ve been talking to Edwin Broderick about Dean’s granddad.’

Hannah sipped her drink. ‘His granddad?’

‘Yes, the lad’s parents died young, and he went to live with his grandparents. Old Joe Dean’s cottage at Lower Drigg was his pride and joy. He bought it before the Second World War broke out, and his attitude was that an Englishman’s home was his castle.’ Daniel leant back in his chair. He hadn’t touched his drink or meal. ‘Edwin is an expert on wartime Cumbria. He’s told me all about the Barrow Blitz, when the Luftwaffe tried to destroy the shipyards at Barrow-in-Furness in the early years of the war. Not far down the coast from here.’

‘Fascinating,’ Les said, ‘but can we get back to Robbie Dean?’

‘The gun range at Eskmeals was a target for the German bombers.’ A dreamy look drifted across Daniel’s face, a look Hannah had seen before when he was transported in his mind to a different place and time. ‘So was an
explosives factory at Calder Hall, the site that became the nuclear plant. Munitions works were dotted around West Cumbria. Drigg had one, for instance. The Luftwaffe would have loved to destroy it. How do you think Granddad Dean reacted?’

‘Get on with it,’ Hannah said. ‘The suspense is killing us.’

‘The old man was scared stiff that enemy bombers would reduce his home to rubble. An Anderson shelter in the garden wasn’t good enough for him. He decided, to quote Edwin,
to convert his cellars into the biggest bloody private air raid shelter for miles around. Folk said it was more like an underground palace than a place of refuge
.’