The Outcast Dead (23 page)

‘Go away stupid cat. It’s bad for you.’

Flint purrs loudly.

After half an hour’s vigorous cleaning Ruth is no wiser. The medal definitely shows two heads and one looks to be a child. The other could be almost anyone. Is it a woman or a long-haired man? Is that a halo or tiny horns? Ruth sighs. She feels exhausted. She wouldn’t last a minute in a Victorian factory. She had wanted to be able to tell Frank that she’d solved one of the mysteries that surround
Jemima Green but she has just added another layer of confusion. The tiny silver object gleams at her balefully. She’ll have to see if she can get it X-rayed, which means explanations and possibly even apologies. Even so, she’s not sure that a radiograph will show anything. X-rays can be very helpful in detecting metal lodged within some other substance, stone or soil for example, but she is not sure how much help it will be with an object that has already deteriorated so much.

Ruth looks at her watch. Five o’clock. She should really wake Kate or she’ll never sleep tonight. She is just about to start some gentle stirring when the phone rings. She has a crazy feeling that it will be Frank but the caller is entirely unexpected.

‘Ruth? It’s Dave Clough.’

‘Clough!’ Without thinking, Ruth calls him by his surname as Nelson does. Clough doesn’t seem to notice.

‘Ruth, could you possibly come over to Judy’s? I think she could do with some support.’

Ruth drives to Judy’s house in a state of frozen shock. Even Kate, sitting in her car seat at the back, is silent. Under the circumstances, Ruth feels that it’s tactless to bring Kate but what else can she do? There’s no time to sort out a babysitter and, besides, after what she’s heard Ruth never wants to let Kate out of her sight again. She still can’t believe it. Judy’s baby abducted. Michael taken by the same shadowy bogeyman who spirited away Baby Poppy. ‘Looks to be the same person,’ Clough said. ‘Of course, we’re not ruling anything out.’

Clough was still talking like a policeman but Ruth could hear the shock in his voice. They may have had their differences but Ruth knows that Clough cares about Judy. The whole team are close in a way that she can never understand, never really be part of. To use the cliché, they are a family. Nelson is the father, to be teased and grumbled about but always ultimately obeyed. Clough is the rebellious son, seeing just how far he can push the boundaries. Judy is the studious daughter, always doing
what Daddy wants but somehow not quite as close to him as the wayward son. Tim is the newcomer, the golden boy, resented by both siblings.

And, now, tragedy has hit the whole family. Hang on, Ruth tells herself, taking the turn into Judy’s road, a blameless suburban street now crowded with police cars and flashing sirens, it’s not a tragedy yet. Poppy was found safe and well. The odds are that the same will happen with Michael. But if Ruth were Judy she would not be thinking about the odds. She would be thinking about her baby, lost in the dark and cold, away from her. Instinctively Ruth glances in the mirror. Kate is wide awake, gazing entranced at the pretty blue lights. ‘Stars,’ she says.

There’s a helicopter hovering overhead. Is that searching for Michael too? It’s flying so low that the rotors are stirring the privet hedges. There are policemen outside the red front door but they recognise Ruth and let her through. Carrying Kate, she walks into the sitting room to find Judy and Darren sitting on the sofa, both of them staring straight ahead, not speaking.

‘Judy.’ Ruth puts Kate down and tries a hug. Judy doesn’t respond at all, her body as stiff and cold as a statue. Darren, though, stands up and shakes hands awkwardly.

‘Thanks for coming, Ruth.’

‘Clough told me. I just came to see if there was anything I could do.’

‘That’s kind of you, Ruth,’ says Judy politely, ‘but there isn’t anything anyone can do.’

‘Both sets of parents wanted to come over,’ says Darren, ‘but Judy wouldn’t let them.’

‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’

Judy laughs hollowly. ‘If I drink another cup of tea I think I’ll be sick.’

‘Everyone’s been very kind,’ says Darren. ‘Nelson’s here now. He’s just making a phone call.’

Despite everything, Ruth is still capable of feeling disconcerted at this news. She has only been thinking about Judy and Michael. She hadn’t considered that she would have to face Nelson though, of course, it’s inevitable that he would be here. This is a serious crime, on his patch, and involving one of his officers. Will he be pleased to see her or will he think that she’s in the way or, worse, pushing herself forward, wanting to be involved in the crisis? Stop it, she tells herself. It doesn’t matter what he thinks about you. It’s only Michael that matters.

Ruth sits down on a chair opposite the couple. Kate climbs into her lap. She has no idea what to say or do. Why on earth did Clough think that she’d be any help? Judy obviously doesn’t want support of any kind. She sits rigidly on the sofa, staring into space. Darren, on the other hand, seems to appreciate having someone to talk to.

‘Nelson says that this Childminder person will look after Michael,’ he says. ‘After all, they looked after Poppy didn’t they?’

‘Of course they did,’ says Ruth, not daring to look at Judy.

‘Nelson says that it’s probably someone who wants to
look after children,’ he says. ‘It’s just that they’re a bit …’ His voice tails off and Ruth knows that he’s trying to avoid saying the words ‘mad’ or ‘deranged’. She hurries into the gap.

‘I’m sure he’s right,’ she says. ‘Nelson knows what he’s doing. And they’ve got the note, haven’t they? They’ve got clues.’

‘They’ve got fuck all,’ says Judy. It’s the first time that Ruth has ever heard her swear and the words effectively cast a spell of silence on the room.

*

When Nelson comes in, they are all still sitting there, Darren and Judy on the sofa, Ruth in the chair. No-one is speaking. Kate is asleep on Ruth’s lap. It’s nearly seven but still light outside. They can hear children playing in the street. ‘You’re it.’ ‘No, you’re it.’ ‘Ip dip sky blue …’

‘Right,’ Nelson is saying, ‘we’re pretty sure that the handwriting’s the same …’

He stops. ‘Ruth. What are you doing here?’

‘Clough called me.’

‘He’s meant to be coordinating the door-to-door,’ Nelson looks irritated. ‘Why did he ring you?’

‘I think he thought I could … help.’

‘Isn’t it past Katie’s bedtime?’

As her daughter is snoring quietly there is nothing Ruth can say to this. Darren leans forward, ‘You can put her down in Michael’s cot …’ He stops, looking at Judy.

‘It’s OK,’ says Ruth hurriedly. ‘She can sleep here. Or I can put her on a bed somewhere.’

‘She might fall off,’ objects Nelson.

‘It’s OK,’ says Ruth again. She wishes that Nelson would stop going on about Kate. She feels guilty enough that she has her child alive and well and sleeping on her lap when Michael is … well, who knows where Michael is and where he is sleeping? Nelson seems to realise this too because, with one distracted glance at his daughter, he turns back to Judy.

‘We’ve got all units out,’ he says. ‘We’ll find her, I promise. She can’t have gone far.’

‘She?’ says Judy. Her voice is hard, professional.

‘The handwriting expert thinks it’s a woman,’ says Nelson.

‘Experts are crap,’ says Judy.

Nelson looks surprised, though Judy is probably just repeating one of his opinions. He looks at Darren as if asking for help. Darren puts his hand on Judy’s arm. She shakes it off.

‘We’ll find Michael,’ says Nelson again. He crouches down in front of Judy. ‘Judy? I promise you, we’ll find him.’

Judy looks at him with something like contempt. ‘That’s what you said about Scarlet.’

Nelson stands up. For a second Ruth thinks that he is close to tears, but when he turns to her his voice is as brusque as ever.

‘Give Katie to me, Ruth. I’ll put her on the bed.’

*

Ruth follows Nelson upstairs. He lies Kate on what is obviously the matrimonial bed, large and comfortable,
covered with what looks like a wedding present duvet in shades of taupe. There’s a photo of Darren and Judy on the bedside table. She is radiant in a red dress, he is looking at her proudly.

Nelson pulls the duvet over Kate. ‘Do you think she’ll be too hot?’

‘No. She’ll be fine.’

It feels strange to be with Nelson, looking down at their sleeping daughter. Strange but oddly sweet. Sometimes it makes Ruth sad to think of all the things that she, Nelson and Kate will never do together – go on holiday, have breakfast in bed, visit grandparents. She wonders if Nelson also thinks about this. But now he has something else on his mind.

‘Ruth, do you think we should tell Cathbad?’

Ruth has never known whether Nelson suspects that Cathbad is Michael’s father. He’s not given to gossip, and deep down he’s pretty strait-laced. Even so, he must know that people have affairs. After all, didn’t he have one himself?

‘Why should we tell him?’ she counters.

‘Well, he and Judy are pretty close,’ says Nelson. ‘And you know how he likes to know everything.’

Ruth stares at him. What is Nelson really saying here? Does he really think that Cathbad and Judy are just friends and that Cathbad would like – in some vaguely interested way – to know what’s going on? Or is he suggesting something else?

‘He usually knows without being told,’ she says.

Nelson turns away to straighten the duvet over Kate. Ruth thinks that he looks embarrassed.

‘That’s just it,’ he says, not looking at her. ‘Cathbad always just appears and things usually turn out all right if he’s here.’

Now Ruth really is astonished. Nelson seems to be suggesting that Cathbad has some magical power, that he is, in some way,
necessary
. Of course, other people have claimed that Cathbad is magic but Ruth never thought that Nelson would turn out to be one of the believers. She thinks of the times that Cathbad has just appeared – leading the way across the marshes, materialising out of the snow, climbing the highest roller-coaster in Europe to save Kate. But, if she calls him now, he’ll come down like an avenging angel and throw this whole house of cards into the air. She thinks of Darren downstairs. ‘Our little champ will be all right,’ he had said to her earlier. ‘He’s a toughie, our Michael.’ What if the sight of Cathbad makes Judy blurt out the whole thing, that Darren’s little champ is someone else’s child? But, then again, doesn’t Cathbad have a right to know what has happened to his son?

Ruth is about to speak when a pounding on the door makes them both jump. Ruth hears Judy cry out and Darren run towards the sound. Ruth is sure that he’s imagining a kindly policewoman with Michael in her arms. She looks at Nelson and knows that he’s seeing a different image altogether.

She goes to the top of the stairs and, through the glass panel in the door, she sees a flash of purple.

Seconds later a cloaked figure strides into the house.

‘Where’s Judy?’ says Cathbad.

Cathbad looks exhausted, his face grey, his eyes shadowed. He has also lost about half a stone since last summer and let his hair grow. This, together with the cloak, gives him a rather desperate appearance. Ruth doesn’t blame Darren for backing away and looking round for help.

It’s Nelson, though, who speaks first. He comes bounding down the stairs.

‘What are you doing here?’

Cathbad looks at him. ‘Where’s Judy?’ he repeats.

Judy appears in the background. The little hall now seems uncomfortably crowded. Ruth is happy to stay out of sight on the stairs. In fact she wishes she was further away still. Edinburgh would be nice.

‘Cathbad,’ says Judy.

Cathbad almost pushes Darren out of the way. He comes up to Judy and puts his hands on her shoulders.

‘It’ll be OK,’ he says. ‘They’ll find him.’

This seems to have a far better effect than Nelson’s earlier reassurances. With a sound halfway between a sob
and a scream, Judy throws herself into Cathbad’s arms. Ruth and Nelson look at each other.

Still standing by the door, Darren says, ‘She hasn’t cried since she heard.’

‘It’s the shock of seeing Cathbad,’ says Nelson breezily. ‘Let’s all have a nice cup of tea shall we?’

Nelson and Ruth almost fight over making the tea, anything to avoid the threesome in the sitting room. Ruth wins but, to her surprise, Cathbad soon joins her in the kitchen.

‘Hi, Ruthie.’

‘You look terrible.’

‘I’ve been driving for four hours. I came as soon as I heard.’

‘How did you hear?’ Ruth doesn’t know what she’s expecting. That the druid grapevine has been in action, that Harry Potter sent an owl, that Cathbad read the news in the tea leaves. But the truth is far simpler.

‘Judy told me,’ says Cathbad. ‘She rang almost as soon as it happened.’

Ruth can believe this and it confirms what she has already suspected: Judy is sure that Cathbad is Michael’s father.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says now.

Cathbad looks at her. His thin face makes his eyes look unfathomably dark. ‘We’ll find him,’ he says. ‘The spirits are so strong in Michael. They’ll protect him.’

Ruth is glad that Cathbad has this certainty to comfort him. If Kate were missing and someone told her that the
spirits were protecting her, she’d hit them, but maybe Judy doesn’t mind this kind of stuff. She certainly didn’t seem to have much patience with Nelson’s more practical approach.

‘I’m worried about Judy,’ she says. ‘She seemed to be almost in a trance until you came.’

‘She’s gone into herself,’ says Cathbad. ‘She’s trying to keep it together for Michael’s sake.’

‘Darren’s been trying to look after her,’ says Ruth. She wants to ask Cathbad to be kind to Darren, to respect his relationship with Judy – and with Michael – but she doesn’t seem to have the words. Luckily Cathbad’s sixth sense is still in working order.

‘I won’t rock the boat,’ he says. ‘If that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘Good,’ says Ruth. A thought strikes her. ‘Where’s Thing?’

‘In the car,’ says Cathbad. ‘I’ll get him in a minute.’

That’s all the house needs, thinks Ruth, a mad bull terrier. But Thing is actually the sweetest of dogs and, who knows, he might give them all something to talk about. She pours milk into the cups. The tea looks odd, muddy and almost opaque. Still, she doesn’t suppose for one second that anyone will drink it.