‘But he picked the wrong woman.’ Al pushed long white hair behind his ears. ‘He picked the woman with the mouth which would eat the world. It’s likely that the departure of Caroline would have fed some ambition into her head. So what does he do? Does Conrad Lake, good friend and supporter of Oliver Perry-Jones, marry a gypsy? Out of the question. Can he pay her off, perhaps? Ha! Does even the Emperor of Frome have enough money to pay off Rebekah Smith? I think not.’
Sally said, ‘I don’t know how he killed her. Probably strangulation. But I think I can guess how he disposed of her remains.’
Merrily stared at Sally, and the night quivered around her.
Vision, when it came, could knock you sideways.
The burning stench of gunpowder and rotten eggs, the smell of cheap fireworks from when you were a kid, fierce and searing as a jet from a blowlamp, the hot breath of hell; brimstone.
Just because the pictures of Rebekah were found in the kiln, didn’t mean—?
Merrily put a hand to her throat. She saw the sudden concern in Lol’s eyes, recalling his anxiety in the kiln, during the Deliverance – the utterly needless deliverance of the soul of the inoffensive Stewart Ash to God. It wasn’t Stewart, it had never been Stewart. Stewart wasn’t the type…
Al Boswell put his head on one side. ‘Drukerimaskri?’
‘Is it possible,’ Merrily said, ‘that Rebekah Smith might have died in the kiln? Was this the conjecture at the time?’
Sally Boswell raised up her glasses on their chain, put them on, gazed through them into Merrily’s eyes. Her face was severe and, for once, she looked her age.
‘Oh yes,’ she said.
‘And could she have choked?’
‘Sulphur,’ Sally said. ‘Do you know what sulphur does?’
‘Yes. I’ve a strong idea.’
Sally spoke in her museum curator’s voice, without emotion. ‘What happens in a hop-kiln is that when the sulphur is to be burned, everyone gets out very rapidly. Sulphur, in small quantities or as an element in spa water, can be beneficial to health. Sulphur burning in a confined space can be horribly poisonous. It causes extreme reactions very quickly. It attacks, the eyes, the throat, the lungs, the skin. It turns hops yellow. I think that anyone exposed to sulphur fumes, in a confined space and unable to get out, would be… grateful to suffocate.’
Al said, ‘Lake always took his women to that kiln. Common knowledge.’
‘Women? How many women did he have?’
‘How many sheep in a flock?’ Sally said. ‘And after the cursory search for Rebekah was over, he became less cautious. He’d pick up prostitutes in Hereford and Worcester and bring them back – right up to his death. He had a mattress in the loft.’
Al regarded Merrily gravely. ‘How do you come to know of this?’
Merrily’s phone began to shrill.
Al suddenly smashed a fist down on the iron table. ‘He locked her in, didn’t he? He locked Rebekah in the fucking kiln with the sulphur rolls burning blue in the brimstone tray?’
‘I don’t know that,’ Merrily said. ‘I just—’
‘He turned her yellow! And then he came back and did whatever else was necessary, and then he fed her to the furnace. The reliable old oil-fired cast-iron furnace, burning at two million BTUs… cremation guaranteed!’
Merrily stood up and found she was shaking. She took the phone to the edge of the weed-choked terrace.
‘M–Merrily Watkins.’
Behind her, Sally was saying, ‘We’d always suspected he must have spread her ashes on the hop-yard, then had them dug in.’
‘Mum…’
‘Jane?’
‘Mum, I swear to God we thought we were doing it for the best but it, like… it’s all gone wrong.’
‘Where are you?’
‘We’re in the car. We’re on our way to Canon Pyon.’
Merrily said tightly, ‘I didn’t know there was a Canon Pyon in Pembrokeshire.’
‘Oh, Jesus Christ, Mum, we went to tell Amy Shelbone to stay the hell away from Layla Riddock, but she’s piss—she’s run away…’
Behind her, Lol was saying, ‘What do you mean, “in the real sense”?’
‘Jane,’ Merrily said, ‘what have you done?’
‘So we were in this like really difficult situation, and we ended up telling Mr and Mrs Shelbone about Layla Riddock, but it was only when—’
‘You did what?’
‘It was only when I said, just, like, in passing, that Layla’s stepfather was – was Allan Henry…’
‘Dear God,’ Merrily said drably.
When she came back to the table, Al Boswell was saying intensely to Lol, ‘… drains him, you know? Exhausts him sexually, but it’s like a drug, until he doesn’t know what day it is. You know what I’m telling you, boy?’
38
Physical Dependency
IF THE SHELBONES knew they were being followed, it didn’t seem to bother them. Their Renault was puttering steadily along like this was some little jaunt to the all-night supermarket. Even in his seriously unstable condition, Mr Shelbone was driving with impeccable care, slowing for every bend.
‘And she said what, exactly?’ Eirion was keeping a steady distance between them, all the same.
‘She said kind of, you know, be careful,’ Jane said.
‘These were her actual words?’
‘Close.’
‘She said “Go home”, didn’t she?’ Eirion didn’t take his eyes from the tail lights ahead.
‘Well, yes, she did. She said that, too.’
‘But the phone signal wasn’t great at that point, I would guess.’
‘Maybe the full moon affects them.’
The road at this stage was absolutely dead straight, probably an old Roman road, and there was no other traffic, so Eirion let the Shelbones increase the space between the two cars. ‘What did we have to lose, after all?’ he said morosely. ‘There was only one parent left to alienate.’
‘The point is, Irene, she doesn’t know what we know, and she wouldn’t let me explain.’
‘Jane, you really think we know everything? You see the looks those Shelbones were exchanging as soon as they heard Layla Riddock’s name? What was that about?’
‘It was the Christmas Fair thing, of course. And anyway that was your fault for telling them. The Shelbones are immensely strange people. All those awful, sombre pictures? You can tell why Amy’s turned out the way she is. If they’ve got a shotgun in the car with them, Allan Henry’s blood will be on your hands.’
‘But she is coming out here?’
‘What?’
‘Your mum.’
‘Oh, yeah. And Lol, I expect. And OK, she did say to keep out of it, but what she really meant—’
‘What she really meant was, keep right on top of it so you don’t miss any of the action.’
‘I would not forgive myself if something happened I could’ve prevented. Riddock’s psychotic, and Allan Henry’s some kind of semi-criminal with pockets full of councillors and police – bit like your dad.’
Eirion let this go; there were some issues beyond argument. They drove through Canon Pyon, which was strung out like a Welsh village.
‘What is it with you, Jane?’
‘Maladjusted?’
‘Angry,’ Eirion said.
They drove in silence, eventually leaving the village lights behind. Then Jane said, ‘Actually, that day in the shed, when Riddock – when she kind of dominated me – it was like she was a woman and I was just a little girl. I was feeling screwed up and insecure. Whereas now…’