‘I took the bus to Chichester. I thought of returning to London, but I had nowhere to stay. At times like this you need the help of friends. I thought about trying to contact Drusilla, but it was awkward. She’d been shocked to learn that I was lesbian. You don’t need antennae to tell you when somebody disapproves. I’m not sure how she would have reacted if I’d asked her to let me stay with her. Instead I thought of the one person who had shown me kindness throughout — Tom Standforth. I got on the phone and blurted out to Tom that I was homeless and could he possibly put me up for the night at Fortiman House. He didn’t hesitate. He came to collect me from the bus station. He must have seen my pitiful state at once because he said I was to stay there as long as I wished. I spent the first night in a spare room in the main house and the next day he showed me this cottage and said his father owned it and asked if I’d like to live here while I got myself together again. It’s ideal for me. I just wanted some time out from the world. He brought over fresh bedding and food and cleaned the main rooms and he’s made sure I’ve lacked for nothing ever since. I can’t speak of him too highly.’
‘You wanted nobody else to know where you were?’ Hen said.
‘It was a breakdown, or whatever they call it these days — post-traumatic stress. My emotions had been shattered. Even speech was difficult for me. I needed time to shut out the world and rest up. I stayed indoors for weeks. Only in the past few days have I ventured outside for a walk around the lake.’
‘In a beanie hat,’ Diamond said.
‘You saw me?’
‘A long way off.’
‘I’m much better than I was. If you thought I was living here illegally, I promise you I’m not. Tom will vouch for that. He’s visited me every day and got shopping in for me.’
‘Seen anyone else?’ Diamond asked. He slipped the question in casually, as if it had just occurred to him, but the answer mattered hugely.
‘How would I? It’s private here.’
‘I was thinking of one of the Priory Park students who may have come here looking for you on the night the artists had their party.’
‘Looking for me?’ Her face was a study in disbelief.
Diamond nodded, willing her, almost begging her, to break through the black cloud of uncertainty that hung over them.
‘Who on earth are you talking about?’
‘Mel.’
‘Melanie Mason, the quiet one?’ She widened her eyes. ‘What would she want from me?’
‘You may not know it, but Mel was troubled that you’d left the school so suddenly, and when she discovered you’re officially a missing person she decided to try and find you. She learned that you’d been one of the Fortiman House art group and there’s reason to believe she came here that evening in search of more information. She didn’t return home and she hasn’t been seen since.’
She clutched at her hair. ‘That’s dreadful. I can’t believe what you’re saying.’
‘Believe me, it’s true. She came to the police station to see what was being done to find you. I spoke to her myself. Are you certain she didn’t come here?’
‘How would she know I was staying in the cottage? I heard nothing. No, that isn’t correct. The sounds from the party carried a long way. I could hear the beat of the music on this side of the wall. And some time after midnight they let off some fireworks. Several loud bangs woke me up. I hate sudden noise.’
‘Fireworks?’ Diamond exchanged a shocked glance with Hen. ‘We weren’t told they had fireworks. The party was over before midnight.’
Hen asked her, ‘Could it have been shooting you heard? Did it go on for long?’
‘No, it was soon over. Two or three loud bangs.’
‘Gunfire must be a possibility.’
‘Oh, don’t say that. This is deeply disturbing — and so much more so if Melanie came here looking for me. Please God nothing dreadful has happened.’
33
Diamond tried phoning once more. And had to stop himself from flinging down the phone and kicking it.
Dave Albison was still not taking calls. The recovery operation at sea must have been under way for three hours or more. No sense in thinking these guys on a gruesome mission would be using phones.
The waiting was hell to endure.
The shadows of early evening were spreading across the neglected garden as he left Holly Blue Cottage with Hen. He’d counted on hearing something by now.
‘Is it back to Chichester?’ Hen asked.
It was not. ‘I want to take a look next door. I’m curious about those voices you heard. Were they male or female?’
‘Both, I thought. Whoever it was has gone by now. It’s so quiet you can hear the snails saying their prayers.’
He gave her a look. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘My grandma. She had some quaint expressions. If you want to go trespassing I’ll collect the torch from my car.’ Which sounded like another of Grandma’s sayings.
Left alone, he assessed his fitness for the task. If he was ever going to crack this case, it would be tonight. The back of his head felt sore, but he was steadier on his feet now. And his brain was sharper than it had been all day. He needed to steel himself for horrible discoveries. Things said and things noticed were coming together and making sense, and none of it was good.
His phone buzzed. He tugged it out.
‘Yes?’
‘It took longer than we thought.’ Albison at last. ‘The wind got up. A real blast. The seagulls were flying backwards.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘Pagham.’
‘Well?’
‘We managed to bring two up. They’d be the most recent.’
He took a sharp, short breath. ‘And?’
‘Female, both of them. And both with bullet wounds. One is almost certainly the missing schoolgirl. She’s wearing the motorcycle jacket in the description, purple and black, with reflective panels.’
A stark, pitiless statement from a bearer of bad news who in fairness had no reason to feel pity.
Diamond had been hit by a wrecking ball. The last hope that Mel had somehow survived was dashed.
Cruel.
A huge lump came to his throat. He wanted to give vent to his sorrow, but this wasn’t the moment and Albison’s wouldn’t be a sympathetic ear. ‘And the other?’
‘Older. In her twenties. A redhead. Slim build. Silver ring on her right hand. Black leather jacket and trousers. The killer must have been so confident they would never be found that he left them in the clothes they had when they were shot.’
The second body was almost certainly Joss. The silver ring had been mentioned by her mother. The age, build and hair colour were right. Devastating for those troubled parents. And for Hen.
‘So the plan is to take them to the mortuary now and see how many more we can bring up tomorrow.’ Albison made it sound like baggage-handling. But who could blame him? On a job as horrific as this you have to find some way of insulating yourself from personal reactions that would overwhelm anyone else. ‘Do you want calls about all the others as we find them?’
The words hadn’t penetrated Diamond’s jangling brain.
‘The others,’ Albison repeated. ‘The bodies.’
Mentally, he put himself on autopilot. ‘DI Montacute will need to know. Best report to him as you go along. These are the two I wanted to know about.’
Mel and Joss. The two he least wanted to know about. The grieving, the long sleepless nights of self-doubt, lay ahead.
He pocketed the phone. Hen was already through the gate on her way back, jaunty and confident as she habitually was. In his present emotional state it wouldn’t be right to blurt out the bad news. He would find a way of telling her before the day was out.
‘How’s your head now?’ she asked him. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re looking groggy again. Don’t you think we should call it a day and get you back to the hotel?’