Blood Falls (45 page)

‘You were quite right,’ Diana said firmly. ‘Come on. Let’s get you dry.’

Glenn said nothing: he’d taken out his phone and was staring intently at the tiny screen. Just as studiously, Ellie ignored him as Diana placed a comforting arm around her shoulder. For Joe, the sight of Ellie being helped along produced a powerful jolt of recognition.

He followed them back to the kitchen and waited, impatience
gnawing at him, while Ellie dried off with a towel and finally sat down, a mug of coffee warming her hands.

‘You remember saying the Shell Cavern was probably discovered by smugglers?’

They stared at him, trying to understand the context of the question.

Ellie nodded. ‘As far as anyone knows.’

‘And there are other tunnels up there?’

‘Supposedly, yes.’

Glenn had slouched in and was now leaning against the kitchen units, keeping a wary distance from his ex-wife. The phone was still in his hand, and he looked distracted.

Joe eyed him suspiciously. ‘How far is Leon’s house from the Shell Cavern?’

Glenn seemed confused for a moment; then he let out a groan, as if winded. ‘Oh, shit.’

‘What?’ Diana snapped. ‘What do you know?’

‘There’s a tunnel, isn’t there?’ Joe said. ‘Beneath the house.’

Now unwillingly the focus of attention, Glenn approached the table. He pushed a hand through his hair.

‘It was years back, when I remodelled the basement. Leon said he had another job. All top secret. He’d located a passageway that ran under the house and he wanted me to put in a strongroom.’ He bit anxiously at the tip of his thumb. ‘He said it was for storing important documents, money – stuff like that.’

‘But it wasn’t?’

‘I’ve no idea. He keeps it padlocked. And it’s not easy to get to. There’s a panel that comes off, behind the toilet. I haven’t had any reason to go near it for years.’

‘Who knows about it? Just you and Leon?’

He spread his hands. ‘Clive Fenton, maybe.’

‘And Cadwell?’

‘Leon wouldn’t have told him. But if Clive knows … it’s possible.’

‘And this room,’ Joe said. ‘It’s big enough to keep someone prisoner?’

Glenn sighed. He looked mournful, defeated. ‘It’s got shelves for storage, and I helped Leon carry a filing cabinet down there. But get rid of those, and what you’d have left is a prison cell.’

It was Diana who spoke first, recognising the determined look on Joe’s face. ‘Tell me you’re not going to Leon’s now?’

‘I have to,’ Joe said. ‘If Alise’s sister is there, she might still be alive.’

‘You should call the police.’

He gestured at the window. ‘Look at the conditions out there. The emergency services are going to be swamped with calls. No one will have time to listen to some vague accusation about a missing woman and an underground room.’

Glenn held up his phone. ‘I’ve got messages from Clive, demanding that I get back. He says the house has serious flood damage.’

Joe stared at Diana. ‘All the more reason to act fast.’

He stood up and started across the room. Glenn made to follow him, but Joe shook his head. ‘It’s best if you stay with these two.’

‘What, the helpless little women?’ Ellie said in a mocking voice.

Joe shook his head. ‘It appears to be safe enough here, but if you need to get out in a hurry you’ll stand a much better chance in Glenn’s truck.’

‘That’s a good point,’ Diana said. ‘In the meantime I’ll get a fire going in the front room. With the power off it’ll be freezing in here soon.’

Before he left the house, Joe made sure he was properly equipped. Diana had found him a better waterproof jacket, as well as a small rucksack and a sturdy Maglite torch. She also suggested that he take a first-aid kit. Glenn fetched the toolbox from his truck, and Joe borrowed a ten-inch crowbar, a Stanley knife and a set of heavy-duty Knipex bolt cutters.

The two women came to see him off, while Glenn stayed in the kitchen. He’d agreed not to respond to Fenton’s messages, and Joe had discreetly asked Diana to make sure he kept to his word.

Diana returned the door key that Leon had taken from him, and offered him the use of her car. Joe thought it would be safer and probably quicker on foot.

‘If you’re sure,’ she said. ‘Please take care.’

‘I will.’

She looked into his eyes for a moment. He sensed that she wanted to say something more, but perhaps Ellie’s presence inhibited her. She settled for a brief kiss on his cheek, then turned and walked away.

Ellie smiled sadly. ‘She’s been a good friend to you.’

‘She has,’ Joe agreed. ‘So have you.’

Their embrace was different: harder, fiercer, with an undercurrent of passion and a poignant sense of opportunities squandered. They kissed, lips pressed together for a long time, and when they broke apart he found that a tear had transferred from her cheek to his.

She swallowed heavily. ‘I shouldn’t say this, but if you find … what you expect to find …’

‘Go on.’

‘Even if he’s arrested, you know Leon will find a way to get out of it. It’s what he does best. Avoiding responsibility. Blaming others.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I think you know,’ Ellie said. ‘If you get a chance, you should kill him.’

Eighty-Two

CLIVE FENTON WAS
many things, but slow on the uptake he wasn’t. Even Leon was surprised by how rapidly he adjusted to the new reality.

‘I suppose, from a business perspective, it’s no great loss. I always had my doubts about the man, as you know.’

‘Do I?’ Leon said, acting baffled.

‘Well, yes.’ Fenton’s face was bright red, but he brazened it out. ‘I often warned you that he was privy to far too much confidential data. That always made him a threat.’

Leon nodded sceptically. ‘Anyway, what I need to know is where
you
stand.’

‘With you, Leon. One hundred per cent. You can be sure of that.’

‘Except I can’t. Not in view of what was said earlier. You’re gonna have to earn my trust all over again, Clive. Starting from scratch.’

Fenton looked uneasy. ‘Very well.’

‘What do you know about this stunt Cadwell pulled with Smith’s body?’

‘Nothing. That was a surprise to me, I can assure you.’

‘I reckon he was bluffing. I want you to find out, and while you’re at it make sure he didn’t have any other tricks up his sleeve.’

‘Good idea.’ Fenton cast an anxious glance at the rain-lashed veranda. ‘As for the immediate priority, I think we should vacate—’

‘We’re not going anywhere yet. Ring Glenn one more time.’

While Fenton made the call and waited for an answer, Leon used his mobile to try Reece, then Todd, then Bruce. He couldn’t get through to any of them.

‘Where the fuck are they?’ he yelled, hurling the phone across the room.

Fenton flinched, even though it had missed him by a mile. ‘Perhaps the weather’s delayed them. It’s probably disrupting the phones, too.’

Leon gave an incoherent growl of frustration. He stalked over and retrieved his phone. The cover was cracked, but it was still working. Functioning, but useless, he thought:
just like the people I employ
.

Joe set off at a run, the tools clanking in his rucksack, the rain pelting his face as he descended the hill, dodging the streams of dirty water that gushed from every driveway and drain. Greasy smoke was worming from the substation, but the fire appeared to have been extinguished by the rain.

Along the front, gigantic waves battered the shore, hurling great white plumes of spray onto the promenade, exploding across the road with a sound like machine-gun fire. The sea was a leaden grey beneath a low black sky, lit by the occasional flash of lightning. Several small boats had been torn from their moorings and driven, pulverised, onto the beach.

By the time Joe reached the gallery he was soaked to the skin and shivering again. The CLOSED sign was up; the door locked. Joe put his face to the glass and peered inside. There were no lights on but he could see movement at the back of the room.

He hammered on the door. Patrick Davy approached, gripping a mop in both hands.

‘What?’ he mouthed.

‘Let me in, please!’ Joe shouted. ‘I don’t work for Leon any more. He tried to kill me.’

Davy looked unconvinced, but when Joe showed no sign of leaving he unlocked the door and let him in. ‘This better not be a try-on.’

‘I promise.’ Joe indicated the mop. ‘Has that taken over from the cricket bat?’

‘Not exactly. The bloody roof sprang a leak. Practically everything on the mezzanine is ruined.’

‘Do you have insurance?’

Davy snorted. ‘Sore point. The premiums were crazy, so I cut down, didn’t bother with cover for my own stuff.’ He pointed to a stack of ruined canvases. ‘I don’t mind admitting, I’m about ready to throw in the towel. Let Derek Cadwell have the place.’

‘I wouldn’t do anything too hastily. Things might be changing round here.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Davy gave him a careful appraisal. ‘So how come you’ve made an enemy of Leon Race?’

‘For one thing, I found out what happened to Alise.’ Joe quickly relayed the story, describing how they had tried to dispose of him in the same way. ‘I’m sorry about the other day, rolling up in one of Leon’s vans.’

‘No, mate, I’m the one who should apologise. I did wonder afterwards if you’d gone undercover. I couldn’t decide whether that makes you very brave or very stupid.’

‘Both.’

Davy laughed, but there was little humour in his eyes. ‘So what now?’

‘I’m going after Leon. And I need your help.’

For Jenny, the irony of her predicament was almost unbearable. A woman who had been dying of thirst now faced death by drowning.

The water was steadily rising, both in her cell and in the tunnel beyond. She had managed to prise off enough of the saturated plasterboard to see that escape was impossible. The studwork was constructed with thick planks of wood: what her dad would call four-by-twos. The horizontal timbers were spaced only three or four inches apart, like bars on a cage. She could barely get her hand between them.

From what she could see, the cell was situated in a natural alcove in a low, narrow tunnel. There was very faint illumination to her right, just enough to see the dark water as it rushed and gurgled along the tunnel, flowing from the other direction. The noise of the river was hideously loud, pounding against the rock wall.

She was so weak that she could hardly stand upright. The water was up to her knees, rising imperceptibly when she stared at it but alarmingly fast if she shut her eyes and tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.

And it was cold. She couldn’t feel her feet. Her calves ached and throbbed. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered and prayed, shivered and prayed.

The prayers made no sense, but God didn’t mind that, did He? He’d make allowances for a situation like this.

She had done everything possible to escape. But it hadn’t been enough.

Patrick Davy confirmed what Ellie had said about the state of the High Street, but said they could probably reach the top of the hill in his Land Rover. He put on a Barbour waxed jacket and leather bush hat, and caught Joe’s knowing look.

‘A practical concession to my heritage,’ he said. ‘Minus the corks, you’ll notice.’

Before locking up, he slipped behind the counter and picked up his cricket bat. Joe grinned, but said nothing.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to wind their way up through the backstreets, passing gardens waterlogged and trashed and trees and hedges withering under the onslaught of the storm. Many of the roads were partially flooded, but Davy’s battered old Land Rover coped ably with the conditions.

At the top of the hill, crossing the main road bridge, they saw the river level was surging to within a couple of feet of the road. The surrounding fields had turned into giant lakes, feeding the torrent. For
the first time they encountered traffic, almost all of it travelling in the opposite direction.

‘Doing the sensible thing and getting out,’ Davy muttered.

‘I was never big on sensible,’ Joe said. ‘But drop me off and turn round if you want.’

Davy chuckled. ‘Nah. Fact is, I’m relishing a chance to get even.’

As they reached the junction for the road to Leon’s they caught sight of the High Street, curving away below them. The river had burst from its channel at roughly the point where Joe remembered stopping to phone Maz. From there it gushed down the street, flooding offices and shops and flattening everything in its path. Cars were being carried in the flow; others had come to rest smashed against each other or piled up like trash in the doorways.

There were half a dozen fire engines and police vehicles parked at the top of the street, but other than rescuing anyone who remained trapped there wasn’t much the emergency services could do, other than stand by and let nature take its course.

‘This’ll kill off the town completely,’ Davy murmured.

Joe disagreed. ‘With the right people in charge, Trelennan can recover from this.’

The darkness was closing in as they parked at the kerb, some fifty yards from Leon’s home, but there was light streaming from the neighbouring properties.

‘Power’s still on up here,’ Joe said as they got out. ‘Watch out for CCTV.’

Davy hefted the cricket bat. ‘I have my handy deactivation tool at the ready.’

The main gates were open. There was a limo parked in front of the house: Derek Cadwell’s. A Mercedes sat under the carport, along with the Citroën van that Joe had used on Saturday, but there were far fewer vehicles than normal. That corresponded with what Glenn had told him: there should be only Leon, Fenton and maybe one or two others present.

They studied the front of the house. There were a couple of lights on, but no sign of movement. Joe mapped the layout in his head, working out a route to the basement stairs.

‘I need to go in through the back door,’ he said. ‘Preferably without being heard.’

Davy nodded. ‘You’ll want a noisy diversion out front, then?’

Eighty-Three

DIANA WAS RELUCTANT
to acknowledge the extent of her doubts about Glenn. But when she sent him to the garage for firewood she found an excuse to go along, and while he got a fire going she bustled around the lounge, lighting half a dozen candles. Only when Ellie joined them did Diana regard it as safe to leave the room.