Cold Justice (22 page)

Toby stood and walked into the lounge. He stood by the window as if he wanted to jump off the balcony beyond. The Thames had taken on the colour of the blue sky. It could have been summer by its colour but it was a bitterly cold day in February.

Toby spread out his hands on the cold glass behind him.

‘Toby – please – this is all about Samuel. No one is accusing you of anything. Kensa never pressed charges.’

Toby shook his head. He panted with fear.

‘Toby, please . . .’ Jeanie held out her hand. ‘You’re okay. Please come and sit over here.’ Jeanie smiled and he took one backward glance before allowing himself to be led over to the sofa. She sat next to him and took his hand.

‘This all matters because somehow, some way, this may have something to do with Samuel going missing. Did your father ever say what he saw when he got back that evening?’

‘No. I don’t think he even realized I was in the house. It was as if I hadn’t been. It was all of it like a bad dream from the moment things went wrong on the beach.’

‘Listen, Toby, what if Kensa wanted to see you?’

He looked at Jeanie as if she was making a bad joke.

‘I can’t see her now. I can’t take any more. I’d rather stay here. I feel like I’m falling apart.’

‘Toby, at some time you’re going to have to face it.’

‘Believe me, I would never have hurt Kensa. I loved Kensa.’

‘Lauren needs me, guv.’

‘Okay, I’ll drop you back at the house,’ said Carter. ‘I’ll talk to the shopkeepers down there.’

‘What shall we do about this new information and Mawgan Stokes?’ Willis asked.

‘You go and see her. Go carefully with her, but make sure she knows this is her chance to tell us the truth before she’s arrested. I don’t want anyone making a rash move where Samuel is concerned.’

Jeanie phoned them as they were driving back.

‘I think this rape allegation is remarkable, to say the least,’ she said over the speaker phone. ‘Toby was fifteen at the time, a virgin, probably more gay than straight, and it’s more than likely his drink had been spiked.’

‘Yeah, the only versions we have of the story are Raymonds’ and Toby’s, so we need to ask around.’

‘He’s listed a few people that were there at the time,’ Jeanie said. ‘Jago, Marky, Mawgan and a few others. Those were some of the funeral-goers, weren’t they? He also mentioned a male called Cam. I don’t remember seeing his name on the list of funeral-goers.’

‘Raymonds mentioned his name – we’ll look into it. Thanks, Jeanie.’

Carter dropped Willis at Kellis House and then he turned back to park at the car park behind the shack.

The shack was open, Marky was putting stock on shelves behind the counter. He turned, saw it was Carter and turned back to continue his task. Carter browsed among the rows of expensive fleeces and tried on a few sunglasses. The Beach Boys were playing in the background. Carter looked around. The cabin had an expensive feel to it, and someone had spent a lot of money on the build.

‘Thought you surfers took off to do a bit of snow-boarding this time of year?’

‘Been already,’ Marky answered him but didn’t turn. Carter continued browsing. Marky watched him in the mirror behind the till.

‘So you’re just waiting for the season now, I suppose?’

‘There’s a lot to get on with. I spend most of the winter in my workshop mending and making boards, plus the big waves are good this time of year.’

‘I get it – so you have the perfect life, no matter what month it is, you’re out there having fun?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Do you mind if I ask you, is this what you always dreamed of doing?’

‘Yep.’

Carter laughed. ‘Come on – I’m a London lad – I need to understand what keeps you here – you can really see yourself waxing surfboards when you’re sixty?’

‘Don’t see why not.’

‘I can see the appeal, except I’d have thought you might like to set up somewhere else? Isn’t it a bit close to home, living here under your parents’ noses? I mean, wouldn’t you prefer to take the money it took to set this up and go to say Newquay or the North Devon Coast? Croyde, for instance.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m thinking about it. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘Oh, mainly chit-chat.’ Carter smiled. He took a fleece from the racks and held it up against himself at the mirror.

‘Suits you,’ Marky said.

‘Yeah – I’ll have to come back with my kid when it warms up a bit here. I can see the appeal of living here – I honestly can.’ He turned on his heels on the wooden floor and nodded, impressed. ‘Except, as much as I love my mum and dad, I wouldn’t want my father breathing down my neck.’

‘Ha . . .’ Marky shrugged it off with a smile. ‘He’s the Sheriff – I expect you heard?’

‘The Sheriff, yeah. I bet he’s quite the ball-buster when he wants to be?’

Marky sprayed the wooden counter with polish and began dusting. ‘He is what he is.’

‘You always see eye-to-eye?’

‘Not always. But we wouldn’t be family if we did.’ Marky made eye contact with Carter but couldn’t hold it. He began to sniff loudly as he polished.

Carter laughed. ‘Yeah, yeah, absolutely – my dad loves to tell me what I should be doing in life, even though he knows nothing about the way things are now. He’s sick at the moment but he used to be a London cabbie. He used to love his job – he knew all the places to get a good brew in London. He knew all the other regular drivers on his patch. There’s not much he can’t tell you about London itself but there’s lots he doesn’t know that goes on underneath, even under the levels he sees. It’s the same in every generation, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose.’

‘But you love it so much here, you love being near your dad so much that nothing would tear you away?’ Carter persisted.

‘I’m not saying that. I just have a great lifestyle. I get to surf all year round, summers are unbelievable here and good money. Then I go away and snowboard in the winter – what more could I want?’

‘What about if there were no restrictions on what business you could have here? If I said to you, you can knock all those shops down across the road and build your dream place, what would it be?’

Marky looked across the street and grinned. ‘It would probably have a bar in it.’

‘Definitely, nothing nicer than a beach bar,’ agreed Carter.

‘Live music – there are a good few local bands in Penhaligon.’

‘Tick – bands, a bar, tick. What else?’ asked Carter.

‘A decent restaurant, a new clothes shop, bigger surf shop, I don’t know.’ Marky turned back to his polishing, daydream over.

‘That polish is making you allergic, you haven’t stopped sniffing since I walked in here.’ Carter winked at Marky and then walked to the back of the shop and peered into the store room. ‘These changing rooms?’ he asked.

‘No, that’s the stock room. The changing rooms are to your right.’

‘Oh, yes. I can see them. So what other staff do you have?’

‘Jago helps me out when he’s home.’

‘He’s home permanently, isn’t he?’ Carter said.

‘Not sure how long he’ll stay.’

‘What does it depend on?’

‘Things, prospects, I suppose, you’ll have to talk to him.’ Marky became defensive.

‘How does he make a living here?’ Carter asked.

‘You’ll have to ask him.’

‘Just Jago help you out?’ Marky nodded. ‘Not Towan?’

He shrugged. ‘He’s busy.’

Carter picked up the leather wristband collection and tried one on.

‘I’m going to get one of these.’ He spread them out on top of the cabinet to look at. ‘You’re a very close-knit society here, aren’t you?’

‘Have to be. Have to help one another out.’

‘Helping one another also means covering for one another’s mistakes?’

‘I suppose it might do, to a certain extent.’

‘What about this missing boy, do you think someone here could be involved?’ asked Carter.

‘No way, I don’t see it.’

‘Neither do I, but it’s difficult to get past the evidence.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Marky.

‘So many things point this way. Now we also have the possibility that you lot, you tight-knit lot, are lying to me about the day of the funeral and who came back with who.’

‘I came back with Jago.’

‘And what time was that?’

‘Late – about three in the morning,’ answered Marky.

Carter arranged his money on the counter in a neat pile.

‘You say you stayed in London till then but we have CCTV footage of you at the Bristol services at half past eight. Why is that?’

Marky’s eyes searched the ceiling for the answer, then he grinned awkwardly. ‘Yeah – that’s right. We did come straight back; well, we went to Exeter to see some mates.’

‘I want their names and addresses.’

Marky shuffled and looked around the room; he thrust his hands in his pockets. His face had gone pale.

‘What about Kensa?’ asked Carter. ‘Didn’t you see her there at the edge of the cemetery at the funeral?’

He looked uncomfortable, distracted. He’d begun glancing towards the door as if he wanted to leave. ‘Yeah, it’s possible.’

‘You know Kensa, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do; I’ve known her all my life.’

‘Of course you have. You’d know if she ever had been in trouble, needed help? Like one night at a beach party maybe?’

Marky stared at Carter, speechless.

‘Mawgan saw her at the funeral, went to talk with her,’ added Carter. ‘They even came home together in Mawgan’s car.’

‘Look, I’ve got to close up now. I promised to go and visit Mum. Was there anything else?’ Marky came out from behind the counter and went to stand by the front door. He waited there for Carter to leave.

‘Thanks for the chat and the bracelet,’ the detective said as he straightened the column of coins on the counter. Carter slid the leather knotted bracelet up over his hand and adjusted it while Marky waited for him to leave. ‘You want to ease up on the coke, your nose is looking pretty lively.’

Carter heard the door shut and lock after he went out and back down the steps. He put a hand up to stop the sand from flying into his face and going into his eyes. He took his sunglasses out of his top pocket and put them on as he crossed the street. Towan was coming out of the farm shop.

‘Can I have a word?’

Towan stayed where he was and waited with a petulant look on his face. ‘You work here most days?’ asked Carter.

‘Only when I have to. Look, what is it? I have a date.’

‘Not what you wanted to do in life, this?’

‘Oh well, it will do, until a better offer comes along,’ answered Towan.

‘And what would that be?’

‘Oh, you know, convert this whole line of rubbish shops into a casino and have a strip club on the end where the Surfshack is.’ He grinned as he watched Marky drive away from across the road.

‘Ambitious,’ said Carter, pretending to be impressed.

‘Yeah – just joking. I intend to leave here pretty soon anyway – I don’t really give a shit what happens to it after that. I have to stay here for now – show willing, sell fucking potatoes for a job, keep myself out of trouble.’

‘Why, because you’ve just come out of prison?’

‘Yeah, pretty much.’

‘Learned your lesson?’

Towan shrugged. ‘I learned a lot in prison, that’s for sure.’

‘But is it a place you’d be keen to go back to?’

‘No. I did my time. I’m staying clean now. What do you want? You have nothing to pin on me – you finished?’

‘Whoa . . .’ Carter rocked back on his heels. ‘Calm down, tiger. You’re in no position to be rude to me. You may be used to the Sheriff’s ways but they’re not mine; I assure you, I won’t let you off anything. I find you have anything to do with this little boy’s disappearance and you’ll never surf again except from a belt round your neck in a prison cell.’

‘What kid? I don’t know anything about a kid,’ said Towan, backing off.

‘You know what kid I’m talking about. There’s not a person in this town who doesn’t know. I’m going to find him. I have a lot of resources at my disposal.’

‘Hasn’t helped you so far, has it? Look, I do what I’m told to. I can’t afford to upset anyone right now. People tell me to jump and I say “How high?”.’

‘What about if you were told to blame someone for a rape he didn’t commit?’

‘You’ve lost me now.’

Willis found Lauren waiting for her kneeling by the front door.

‘There was someone here. A woman called Kensa,’ she said, struggling to breathe and talk.

Damn,
thought Willis. They should have insisted she stay away from Lauren. ‘What did she want?’

‘She says she’s seen Samuel in her dreams. She was talking, repeating what she’d heard, and it sounded just like him. Even her expression; the face she made – it was just like him. The way she said “Mommy, Mommy” – like Samuel says it.’

Lauren looked up, still on her knees. She closed her eyes as she swayed and hugged herself. Willis got down to help her up.

‘Come on, Lauren, we need to talk about this. Come and sit down.’

Willis led her through to the kitchen and sat opposite her at the table. ‘Tell me what happened.’

Willis listened and waited for Lauren to finish. Her eyes were so full of hope and her hands were shaking as they held her mug of tea.

‘I know who Kensa is – Carter and I met her last evening,’ Willis said.

‘Who is she?’

‘She lives in a caravan in the fields above town. She says she knows Toby, she remembers meeting him years ago when they were teenagers.’ Lauren had a confused expression on her face. ‘And she would have seen Samuel at the funeral. She was there, at the edge of the cemetery. She didn’t come forward but she would have heard Samuel then. We can’t be sure that she’s not making it up, but we are investigating everything she says. I promise you, we’ll take it seriously.’

‘Stop a minute . . . how does Toby know her? What do you mean? He hasn’t been here since he was a child.’

‘Listen, Lauren, I’ll tell it to you the way I heard it, the way I understand it – I’m sorry it seems like this is one more problem for you to absorb, but it may help us understand where Samuel is, in its own way. Okay?’ Lauren stared back at Willis. ‘Something happened here, in this place, that’s been covered up for years. It’s something that involved Toby.’