Plotted in Cornwall (13 page)

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Oh, God, it sounds so melodramatic and ridiculous. I knew Mum wanted a new start and, at first, I thought she – well, I thought
she might have got so fed up with his womanising and money troubles that she killed him. I now know that isn’t so. Anyway, since I’ve been back Aunt Wendy’s been acting pretty strangely, as if she doesn’t want me around, yet we used to get on well. I mean, is it possible Wendy killed him? You know both sides of the family a bit, do you think it’s likely? Joel told me that Uncle Roger contacted the police several times but they aren’t able to do anything.’

Rose had been certain there was more to Miranda’s disappearance than a change of heart about university, just as certain as her uncle had been. She had run to protect her mother. She wondered if Miranda was asking for help and, if so, what she could do about it. ‘Why would Wendy wish him any harm?’

‘She never liked him, she was always saying he wasn’t good enough for Mum, that he sponged off her, which wasn’t true, and they should never have got married.’

‘But what could she possibly achieve by his death?’

‘Well, she’s in a very comfortable position living with Mum. Maybe she and Dad had an argument. Mum told me that she was at the bank and the solicitor’s office for most
of the morning he disappeared. There’s only Wendy’s word that he took off at the last minute.’

‘Miranda, I happen to know that your father hasn’t yet responded to the advertisement. Of course, that doesn’t mean anything, it was only in the local paper. The firm of solicitors are now advertising nationally. His aunt died, apparently. Did you know her?’

‘I met her a couple of times when I was small. She lived in the Midlands, we didn’t visit often. I think she went into a home when her husband died. She must have been quite an age.’

Rose glanced at Joel who had remained silent. ‘What do you think about all this?’

‘I don’t know. It does seem odd. Uncle Frank seemed keen to move, but it could’ve been a front. He might have planned his disappearance months in advance.’

‘But?’

He looked up and shook his head. ‘But why would he want to disappear? As Miranda said, he had everything he wanted as far as we know.’

Rose took a sip of her own drink. Maybe they’d all got it wrong. When people disappeared for no apparent reason those left
behind felt lost and required answers. They also believed they had known the person, that they could swear they hadn’t left of their own accord. But no one could see into someone else’s head. It happened. Happily married men and women with children, a home and money had reasons no one could guess at for wanting to make a fresh start. Frank Jordan had possibly been one of them, especially once he believed his daughter was going to university.

‘There’s one thing I don’t understand. He loved the sea, his boat meant everything to him. Why would he want to live in the middle of Bodmin Moor?’

‘His boat? What happened to it?’ Cornwall might be a large county lengthwise but Bodmin was no more than ten or fifteen miles from the coast in either direction. He’d still have been able to use it. ‘Did he sell it?’

It was Joel who answered. ‘We don’t know. Dad even went down to the boathouse. It was locked but you can see through a gap in the planks and it wasn’t there.’

‘What sort of boat?’

‘A cabin cruiser.’

Perhaps it was his means of escape. ‘Could it have reached the Continent?’

‘Yes. France, easily. But what would he do there? He doesn’t have any connections overseas as far as I know,’ Miranda said.

‘Let me think about this for a few minutes. I’ll just put the vegetables on. Help yourselves to another drink if you want one.’ Rose left the room, unable to determine what she believed. It seemed that Miranda and Joel were unaware of Wendy’s infatuation with Frank. If she had harmed him her feelings were far more of a motive than anything else Rose had learned so far. Maybe she had been unable to bear the thought of him moving away and trying to make a go of it with Louisa. When they had all lived in Penzance she had seen him every day. If Louisa had been out of the way for the morning she might have begged him not to go. If Frank Jordan had rebuffed her again, laughed at her, how would a woman like Wendy react? Rose had seen for herself the violence of which she was capable. Oh, Jack, if only you were here, she thought as she basted the potatoes and parsnips with juices from the meat.

When she returned to the sitting-room she refilled her own glass and sat down again. ‘This boathouse. Where is it?’

‘It’s not really one, it’s a lock-up place Dad
bought years ago. More of a garage really.’

‘Was it sold with the house?’

Miranda shrugged. ‘Not as far as I know. It wasn’t attached to the house, it wasn’t anywhere near it, in fact.’

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a key?’

‘No. Why?’

Good question, Rose thought. But maybe it would hold some clue to the man. Maybe he had used it for other reasons as well as storage space for the boat. If it had been sold there was nothing they could do. ‘It might be worth taking a look at it.’

‘We can’t just break in. Even if it still belongs to Uncle Frank it would be illegal.’ Joel was horrified.

‘Miranda’s his daughter,’ Rose pointed out. ‘If he still owns it it would be all right. Look, if he took the boat and he’s still in the country wouldn’t he have to register it somewhere?’

‘I’m not sure how it works, but I suppose there’d have to be some record of it.’

Rose nodded. Could she ask Jack to check? Would he even bother? It was worth a try. Their faces flushed from the drinks and the heat of the fire, they sat in silence, each with their own thoughts. Rose began to understand Miranda’s behaviour. If she had
believed her own mother to have been involved in a murder, one solution was to disappear in order to evade any questions if the police were alerted. An immature solution but the girl had been only eighteen at the time. From what both Miranda and Joel had said, Rose knew that the mother and daughter had been very close. And there was Wendy’s changed attitude. Was there a sinister reason for this or did she simply resent Miranda reappearing and disturbing their comfortable life-style? ‘I think it’s time to eat,’ Rose said, picking up her glass as she stood. Miranda had not topped up her drink, she’d be able to have a second glass of wine with the meal.

‘This is delicious,’ Joel said as he cut the last of his roast potatoes.

He had eaten more quickly than either of the women. It pleased Rose to see her cooking appreciated. ‘There’s plenty more if you’ve room.’

‘He’s always got room,’ Miranda told her with a smile. ‘I don’t know where he puts it all.’

He’s probably still growing, Rose thought but did not say because it would have embarrassed him to be thought of as a boy still.

She had made a fruit salad to follow, thinking they would be too full for anything heavier, and she had bought some clotted cream. Joel dolloped several spoonfuls on his dish.

When they had finished Miranda offered to wash up but Rose said she would see to the dishes later. Unused to eating her main meal in the middle of the day she felt in need of a walk and therefore suggested one. ‘We could take a look at the boathouse,’ she said diffidently, as if the idea had just occurred to her. ‘In the same way as your father did,’ she added for Joel’s benefit. ‘Take a peep through the gap.’

Miranda thought it was a good idea. ‘I could do with some exercise, too. How about it, Joel?’

He nodded, realising he had been outvoted by the women. He’d rather leave things alone. But I did promise to help Miranda, he thought, and his parents were away, they’d never find out.

Together they walked down the hill and along the front towards Penzance where they cut up behind the tennis courts and the bowling green to rows of terraced granite properties. Here was a labyrinth of alleyways and quaint buildings. At the end of one
such street stood a garage. There was just room to manoeuvre a car and boat from the main road running at right angles to it.

As the three of them stood looking at the lock-up they attracted the attention of a man living in the house opposite. He came out and stood in the tiny patch of front garden. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, wondering if this unlikely threesome was about to break in.

‘Ah, yes, maybe you can,’ Rose said, turning on the charm as she smiled at him. ‘We’d heard this was up for sale but there doesn’t seem to be a board.’

‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it. A bloke called Jordan owns it but he hasn’t been around for ages. He was always down here at one time making a meal of getting that boat in and out. The boat’s gone, too.’

‘Maybe that’s why I heard the garage was for sale. Did he take it somewhere else?’ Rose asked innocently.

‘Never saw him if he did.’ He turned away realising he had let them know the only way he could be aware of this fact was by looking through the gap.

‘Thanks, anyway,’ Rose called to his retreating back.

‘What now?’ Miranda asked. ‘I could
break the lock, but the old boy’ll be watching us and ring the police.’

Rose eyed the small padlock. ‘We’ll come back later. If we leave now and get an appropriate tool, if he does see us he’ll think we’ve obtained a key from somewhere. What do you think?’

‘No,’ Joel said.

‘I don’t see why not. I mean, it seems Dad does still own it, there’s no reason for me not to have a look inside.’

They walked back and waited until the light began to fade. Rose found a set of screwdrivers with which they could hopefully remove the whole padlock unit and then replace it. None of them had noticed if the screws were rusty.

It was colder when they left the house. Miranda offered to drive. She parked the car in the next street away from the prying eyes of the man they had seen earlier. The pensioner’s curtains were drawn now. If he was watching television he probably wouldn’t hear them.

‘You do it,’ Miranda said, handing Joel the screwdrivers.

It took longer than they had anticipated as one of the screws had gone in crooked but at last the whole unit came away in Joel’s
hands. He pushed open the creaking wooden door and they stepped inside.

‘Close it behind you,’ Rose told Miranda. When she had done so Rose switched on her flashlight.

‘Oh, my God.’ Miranda ran to the back of the building and stood looking down at something.

‘What is it?’ Rose hurried to her side.

‘It’s Dad’s holdall.’

‘What? Are you certain?’

‘Yes, I saw him pack it. We’d all decided to keep out the clothes we needed for the first couple of days. Look, there’s his initials.’

Rose had no idea what to do. Jack ought to be informed immediately ‘Can you bear to open it, Miranda?’ It had been there some time, there were patches of mould on its surface.

She nodded but there were tears in her eyes. She bent down and unzipped the bag. The clothes were damp but instantly recognisable. ‘His passport’s here, too, and his driving licence. Oh, Rose, I was right, something awful’s happened to him.’

Rose put her arms around her. ‘Don’t cry. This doesn’t prove anything. But we need some help now, some official help. Are you prepared to talk to the police? There’s someone
I know who’ll listen.’ I hope, she added silently.

Miranda sniffed as she nodded. ‘They’ll have to listen this time.’

‘You were right to insist we did this, Mrs Trevelyan,’ Joel said. He looked worried and frightened.

‘It’ll mean dragging Mum into it, but we can’t ignore this.’ Miranda pointed to her father’s possessions.

‘Okay Joel, can you get that padlock back on. We need to make the place secure and I think we ought to leave the bag where we found it.’

Joel got to work. Rose and Miranda stood, shivering in the chilly evening air, until he had finished.

‘Will you come back to my house?’ Rose asked. ‘It’ll be easier if we’re all together.’

They drove back, all grateful that the Penhaligons were on holiday and that Wendy and Louisa were in Bodmin. Maybe something useful could be achieved before any of those people learned what they had done.

‘Would you get that?’ Jack called from the kitchen where he was cooking pasta for their supper.

‘Okay.’ Anna went to answer the phone. It was already dark outside. A streetlight cast its light on the roof of Jack’s car. Absent-mindedly she gave the number. ‘Yes, he’s here. I’ll get him,’ she said before laying the receiver on the table.

‘Jack, it’s Mrs Trevelyan. She says it’s important or she wouldn’t have rung.’ Jack stood in the kitchen doorway, a fork in his hand.

He crossed the hall and went into the lounge. Anna looked vaguely annoyed. ‘I’ll see to the rest of the meal,’ she said, not wishing to hear his side of the conversation.

‘What is it, Rose?’ He listened for several minutes. ‘You’re right, it does seem important, although it could be he decided to ditch his clothes at the last minute.’

‘And his passport and driving licence?’

‘You have a point. Ring the station and tell
them exactly what you’ve told me. I imagine someone will want to speak to you all tonight.’ They’ll certainly take a look at that bag, he thought.

‘Can’t you come yourself?’

‘I’m off duty.’

‘I meant as a friend.’

‘Rose, I—’

‘Sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have asked. I realise Anna’s there with you.’

Jack felt a wave of regret. He wanted to go, he wanted to see Rose and he wanted to hear more about what they had discovered. But he could hardly ditch Anna. He had invited her over for the evening and their meal was almost ready.

‘What did she want?’ Anna asked when he returned to the kitchen.

‘It’s a long story. It involves a person who has disappeared. I won’t bore you with it now. She wanted me to go over there but I advised her to ring Camborne.’

‘I see.’ Her face was serious.

‘What do you see, Anna?’ He tilted her chin up with his forefinger.

‘Jack, this isn’t going to work, is it?’

‘What isn’t?’

‘Us.’

‘Why shouldn’t it? We hardly know each
other yet. I enjoy your company, Anna, I like being with you very much.’

‘The same goes for me, but – well, I just feel that sometimes a part of you is elsewhere.’

‘It comes with the job. I did warn you there’ll be late nights, times when I can’t keep to an arrangement.’

‘It isn’t the job, Jack. It’s her. Rose.’

‘Rose is a thing of the past. Why won’t you believe me?’

Anna ran a hand through her dark hair. ‘Because I saw your face when I said her name and I can tell that you really want to go to her. And you would’ve done if I wasn’t here.’

Fair comment, Jack thought. I would have done. But you are here, Anna, and I didn’t. Yet she had been astute enough to sense his feelings. ‘I don’t know what to say. The fact is I didn’t go and our pasta will be overcooked.’

‘I’ve drained it.’

‘It’ll be cold then,’ he said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Come on, let’s eat.’

She shook her head. Her face was pale and disappointment showed in her eyes. ‘I’m not hungry now. I think I’ll go home. Forgive
me, I don’t mean to sound like a petulant teenager but I’ve been in a similar position before and I’m not prepared to play second best. Rose may no longer want you but until you’re certain you feel that way about her, too, it’s better if we don’t see each other.’

‘Anna, please.’ He took her arm and turned her to face him. So this was what had been on her mind. He knew something had been troubling her. But the truth was he was no longer sure what he felt for Rose. I’m an all or nothing person, he realised, and I can’t go through what Rose put me through again. Anna is right, I’ve got to forget her and get on with my own life. He hadn’t realised how hard it would be to remain friends. Better never to see Rose again. ‘Please stay. I want you to.’

She nearly weakened. Jack was such a decent man and so good-looking it would have been easy to give in. No matter what he believes, I know different, she thought, recalling his expression when she said Rose’s name. You can’t hide what you feel, Jack. ‘No. Not now. Give me a ring next weekend when you’ve had time to think over what I’ve said. I really like you, Jack. I think you know that, but if our relationship’s going anywhere I need to know where
I stand.’ She picked up her leather coat and bag. ‘And I’m sorry about the food, but I really couldn’t eat it now.’

Jack nodded. He went to the door with her. ‘Shall I walk you home?’

‘No. I’ll be fine. Thanks, anyway.’

He watched her make her way down the road. She hadn’t far to go and it wasn’t late or he would have insisted.

Closing the door, he went to the phone. Had Rose already made that call? Was it too late for him to see her? And do I really want to? he asked himself. ‘Bloody women,’ he said as he picked up the receiver. ‘Have you rung Camborne yet?’ he asked when Rose answered.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I was just about to. We needed some time to get our thoughts in order.’

‘Then wait until I get there.’

‘But I thought…’ She stopped. About to mention Anna, she could not ask what had taken place to cause Jack to change his mind.

‘I’ll be there in a few minutes.’

He unhooked a fleece-lined stone-coloured jacket from the peg in the hall and went out to the car. A half moon hung over
the bay; its reflection was distorted in the ripples of the sea, as blurred as his feelings about the two females in his life. I’m not on duty, I’m going as a friend, he reminded himself, knowing that Rose’s find would have to be reported via official channels. He was confused. Anna seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

There wasn’t room in the drive for his car. Behind Rose’s Metro was another he did not recognise. He parked in the lay-by across the road and, hands in his pockets against the keen, freshening wind, walked up to the house and tapped on the kitchen window. The light was on. Dishes cluttered the draining-board, more dishes than a single person would have used.

The hall door opened and Rose walked across the kitchen. She wore jeans and boots and a cream, drop-shouldered shirt in a thick material. She looks so young, he thought, so childlike. But he knew her size was partly responsible. Her petite figure was that of a teenage girl.

‘I’m glad you came,’ Rose said as soon as she opened the door. ‘I’d rather talk to you than a stranger. We’re in the sitting-room.’

Miranda and Joel eyed Jack nervously as the introductions were made. They were not
sure if they had committed a crime by breaking into the lock-up but Mrs Trevelyan seemed unconcerned.

‘Do you want a drink, or coffee?’ Rose asked.

He had seen the wine bottle. One wouldn’t hurt. ‘Thanks. Then you’d better tell me again what happened this afternoon.’

Rose did so, explaining how it had been her idea to take a look at the place. Jack hid a smile as he pictured the three disparate people before him acting like burglars.

‘It’s definitely the bag your father packed on the day before you moved?’ he asked Miranda.

‘Yes. I touched it, I’m afraid.’

Jack didn’t think it would yield many clues if it had been left in the damp for all that time. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll get someone over there. We’ll need to speak to your family, of course, and we’ll need statements from the three of you.’

‘Will we get into trouble?’ Joel wanted to know.

‘I very much doubt it. Where can you be reached in the morning?’

Joel told him that Miranda was staying the night at his house. He was relieved, they could face the questions together and
Miranda wouldn’t have to face her mother and aunt until later. ‘Can we go now?’

Jack saw that the boy had had enough. He nodded. ‘Don’t leave the house, though, not until someone’s been to see you.’

‘Thank you for the lunch, Rose. We really enjoyed it.’

‘It was my pleasure, Joel.’ It seemed more like days than hours since they had eaten it and there were still the dishes to wash.

‘May I use the phone?’ Jack asked.

‘Of course.’ Rose saw her guests out and waited until the car had reversed down the drive before returning to Jack. ‘Thanks for coming. The pair of them are worried sick. I know you’re taking this seriously now.’

‘Yes, but it still doesn’t mean anything’s happened to him.’

Rose explained about the boat. ‘There’d have to be a record, wouldn’t there?’

‘He might have sold it privately before he left. What puzzles me is why he didn’t get rid of the boathouse. I suppose it’s possible he thought he might continue to use it but then I’d assume the boat would still be there. Let’s hope we find out.’

Rose looked at the empty wine bottle. They had been quite abstemious throughout the day because she had been aware that
Joel was under-age and Miranda had the car. ‘I’ll get another drink,’ she said, knowing what would be going through Jack’s mind. Or did she? What had he said to Anna and how must she be feeling to have been ditched for his ex-lover?

‘I hope I didn’t spoil your evening,’ she said when she returned with the open bottle.

Jack shrugged. It had been Anna’s decision to leave. Had he tried hard enough to stop her? He didn’t know. But he was not prepared to discuss his relationship, if it still was one, with Rose. ‘So let’s hear it all. Right from the beginning, not just from today.’

Rose told him, even mentioning the electric freezer at the house on Bodmin Moor. ‘They all seem to suspect each other from what I can gather. It’s a very strange set-up,’ she concluded.

‘Well, we might get to the bottom of it when we’ve spoken to the sisters. Have you heard any more from the one who attacked you?’

‘No. And I don’t particularly want to. She isn’t going to be very pleased when she knows Miranda and Joel were here and that I was responsible for finding Frank’s bag.’

‘You can take care of yourself, Rose. You
always make a point of telling me that.’

She blushed. The criticism, if it was one, was accurate. ‘How is it you now feel free to interview Louisa and Wendy? I mean, you still don’t seem certain a crime’s been committed,’ she asked in order to change the subject.

He grinned. ‘Apart from a touch of breaking and entering? Well, Roger Penhaligon was on the phone again the other week, which proves he is still concerned about his brother-in-law, and now his clothes and personal papers have been found, we have reason to be suspicious. You have to accept that we might be pissing into the wind. Jordan could’ve dumped his things at the last minute not wishing to take any reminders with him. He might even have forgotten where he put his passport.’

Rose stood up. ‘At least you’re looking into it. I’m convinced there’s something not quite right.’

‘When aren’t you?’

She had imagined that the conversation was over, that, business done, Jack would want to get back to Anna. When he made no move to get up himself she sat down again. ‘Don’t let me detain you if you have to go,’ she said.

‘There’s no rush. Any chance of a refill?’ He held out the empty glass.

‘Of course.’

‘Anna had to leave. Something cropped up.’ He had not meant to bring her into the conversation. ‘I’d invited her over for a meal but we didn’t get to eat it.’

‘Is this your way of telling me you’re hungry?’ Had Anna left because of her telephone call? If that was the case the relationship was already on rocky ground.

‘Actually, I’m starving.’

‘Then you’re in luck. How about a roast beef and salad sandwich?’

‘Ideal. Do you need any help?’ He followed her to the kitchen anyway. ‘Motive,’ he said, ‘that’s the one thing that’s lacking in all this. Louisa is well provided for, as is Wendy.’

‘Jealousy? It’s a powerful emotion.’

‘Possibly. But why wait for so long? No, if he hasn’t simply done a bunk then it’s more likely your theory is right. There was an argument that went badly wrong and something happened to Jordan. But in that case, tell me, Rose, where the hell is the body?’

She turned to face him, the buttery knife in her hands. ‘In the sea? Maybe that’s why the boat’s missing. One or both of them
took him out in it and sank it.’

‘Oh, yes. I can just see a woman of a certain age lugging a fully grown man, a dead weight at that, down to the lock-up or whatever and taking the boat out. And how would she or they have got back?’

‘It was summer. The boat would’ve been moored somewhere. And there’d have been an inflatable dinghy surely.’

‘Which would also have to be disposed of.’

Rose sliced two thick pieces of beef and laid them on the bread. Lettuce and tomato followed. The second slice she spread liberally with mustard. ‘There you are. There’s more if you’re still hungry.’

‘Thank you.’ Jack took the plate and began to eat, standing by the table.

‘There’s another possibility. Suicide.’

‘Again, why?’ he asked, wiping mustard from his lower lip.

‘Why does anyone kill themselves?’

‘No note, no suggestion of it really.’

‘No.’ But another idea had occurred to Rose. She would keep it to herself for the moment. Jack believed her to be fanciful enough as it was.

Watching him eat, quite at ease even if he had chosen to remain on his feet, she realised how quickly they had slipped back
into their old ways. They were discussing this as equals and there was no animosity. Jack was taking her seriously and respecting her views.

‘Mm, delish,’ he said, bolting down the last mouthful.

‘Another?’ He nodded. With her back to him she sliced more bread. ‘What were you cooking?’

‘Pasta.’

‘Then it’s ruined. I’m sorry.’

‘This more than makes up for it.’

He obviously wasn’t going to be drawn. Rose wanted to know why Anna had decided to go home early but it wasn’t something she could ask him outright. She knew he was watching her and suspected he might be laughing. Was she that easy to read? To hell with it, why shouldn’t she say what was on her mind. ‘I take it you’re both still coming on Christmas Eve?’

‘Mm. I’m looking forward to meeting your parents again. They’re nice people.’ He wouldn’t admit that Anna would not be coming.

‘They’ll be here on Monday. Here’s your sandwich. Look, Jack, the portrait, that’s when it all started really, the day they changed their minds. Surely that means
they’ve got something to hide. Wendy, at least, certainly didn’t want me to become aware that Miranda was back.’