Simon Beckett - The Restless Dead

Coker’s mouth worked as he processed the information. ‘Fuck off! Stacey wouldn’t be seen dead in this place!’

I hesitated, then decided it was better to tell him. ‘She was here at the weekend as well. I saw her when I was waiting for my car to be repaired.’

If he’d taken the job he might have seen her himself, but I knew better than to mention that. Trask looked angrily at his son.

‘Stacey was here?’

Coker didn’t give Jamie a chance to answer. Now his full anger was focused on me. ‘You’re lying! You’re covering up for them!’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, why would a complete bloody stranger care enough to make it up?’ Trask demanded. ‘And how about you show some consideration for my daughter? She only got out of hospital this morning, and now you come bursting in her home making threats?’

I don’t think Coker had even noticed Fay until then. There was an uncertainty about him as he looked down at the frightened girl huddled behind Rachel, and I saw him take in the dressings on her thin arms.

But he still wasn’t ready to back down. He confronted Jamie again.

‘Stacey wouldn’t make it up for no reason. I know you’ve done something to her, you little bastard!’

That earned a bitter laugh. ‘Oh yeah, because she’s such a—’

‘Jamie!’ Trask stared at his son, then turned back to Coker. ‘You’ve had your say. Now get out or I’m calling the police.’

Coker had been looking cornered; now the anger was back. He levelled a thick finger at Jamie.

‘Go near my daughter again and I’ll kill you.’

He pushed past me and thumped down the stairs. A moment later the front door banged. For a few seconds no one moved or spoke, then Trask turned to his son.

‘What did you do?’

‘I didn’t do anything! You know what she’s like!’

‘Yes, I do, and I’m asking what you did to make her tell her father something like that. What did you say to her?’

‘Nothing, I just...’ He seemed to slump. ‘I called her a fat sow and told her to fuck off and die, all right? She wouldn’t leave me alone ! I mean, why can’t she just take a hint and—’

‘In my study.’

‘Dad, I swear—’

‘Now.’

Jamie’s shoulders slumped as he followed his father downstairs. As he passed the table he slapped down the knife he’d been holding.

It clattered on the wood, spinning in a slow circle to a stop.

Rachel walked me back to my car. This time she didn’t even attempt to persuade me to stay. We pretended not to hear the raised voices coming from Trask’s study as she packed up some food to take with me. Watching her spoon casserole into a dish, I felt sorry for her, forced by circumstances and conscience into staying with a family whose only connection to her was through a shared tragedy. I wondered if she’d have stayed as long if she’d had a better relationship with her sister, or whether guilt over their final row had kept her here.

The night had turned cold, the air damp and smelling of marsh. ‘How’s the nose?’ she asked as we walked along the footpath through the trees.

I touched it experimentally. It was still sore from where Coker had caught it, but wasn’t bleeding. ‘I’ll live.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Her smile faded. ‘Not exactly a relaxing dinner, was it?’

‘It was different.’

She gave a tired laugh. ‘We seem to keep dragging you into our problems, don’t we? You remember I said that Jamie and Stacey had a history? Well, it was a bit more complicated than that.’

I’d already guessed that much. ‘Did she get pregnant?’

Rachel nodded. ‘It was before I came here. Jamie had broken up with her, which was bad enough for Coker. Then Stacey announced she was pregnant and claimed it was Jamie’s. It could have been but... she’s a bit older than him so let’s say he wasn’t the only candidate. Anyway, Coker went ballistic and blamed everything on Jamie. There was an almighty row, and knowing Emma I can’t imagine she would have been a calming influence. In the end Stacey had an abortion, but it left a lot of bad feeling. As you may have noticed.’

‘What do you think she’ll do now?’

‘Hopefully let it drop. I’m just glad you saw her, because if it just had been her word against Jamie’s...’ Rachel let that hang, then gave a weary shrug. ‘Anyway, it’s not all her fault. Jamie shouldn’t have said what he did. “Sow” was one of Emma’s pet insults, so no prizes for guessing where he got that from. God, what an evening.’

‘I’m sorry if bringing the wine made things awkward,’ I said.

‘You mean because of Andrew?’ She shrugged. ‘It isn’t normally an issue. Like I said before, he’s not an alcoholic or anything. He just started drinking more after Emma disappeared, and stopped when he realized things were getting a bit out of hand.’

‘Like going to confront Leo Villiers, you mean?’

‘That didn’t help, no. And you saw how it can get between him and Jamie. They’re very alike so they tend to rub anyway. It’s worse if Andrew’s been drinking’

We’d emerged from the copse and now stopped by my car. Rachel looked back at the house, a dark rectangle with yellow windows visible through the shadowy trees.

‘Are you OK?’ I asked.

‘Me?’ She shrugged. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

She didn’t sound it. A tension had been building up in me, and I spoke without thinking. ‘Look, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, how about going out for dinner? Or a drink, or something?’

She looked taken aback, and I felt my stomach lurch. Where did that come from? Less than an hour ago I’d been regretting accepting Trask’s invitation: now here I was asking Rachel out. If I could have snatched the words back I would.

Then she smiled. ‘I’d like that. But there aren’t exactly many places to go around here.’

‘It’s OK. It was a bad idea anyway.’

‘No, I’d love to. It just means driving for miles.’ She hesitated. ‘If you like, I could cook something at the boathouse?’

‘Uh... Yes, if you’re sure...’

‘Great. How about seven?’

I said seven was fine.

Driving back to the boathouse, I swung between euphoria and apprehension. I told myself not to read anything into it, that Rachel was probably glad of the chance to get away from Creek House for an evening. Still, I knew I was potentially complicating things, involving myself even deeper in the Trask family’s problems.

It didn’t matter. Regardless of the circumstances, I couldn’t remember feeling like this in...

Well. A long time.

I’d only been in one serious relationship since Kara had died. I’d been a GP at the time, and it hadn’t survived the transition from my working with the living to the dead. But it meant I’d long ago resolved any guilt over becoming involved with someone else. I was glad for that much, at least, though it didn’t make me feel any less nervous. I smiled ruefully as I caught myself. It was only dinner, after all. Don’t get carried away .

Back at the boathouse I turned on the heater to counter the night’s chill and took the still-warm casserole over to the table. With the soft whirr of the blown air as a background, I turned on my laptop and ate as I opened the files Lundy had emailed earlier. As well as the post-mortem report on the remains from the barbed wire, the DI had also sent a photograph of the custom-made shotgun that had disappeared along with Leo Villiers. I didn’t like guns and had never been a fan of shooting as a sport, but even I had to admit that it was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. The Mowbry was double-barrelled, with an over-and-under configuration rather than side-by-side. The stock was a burnished mahogany, while the barrels themselves were a smoky blue-black that seemed to glow. Most distinctive of all were the silver side plates, intricately whorled and engraved with the letters LV .