Robert Goddard - Sight Unseen

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Another classic mystery from the 'Master of the Clever Twist'. One summer's day in 1981 a two-year-old girl, Tamsin Hall, was abducted during a picnic at the famous prehistoric site of Avebury in Wiltshire. Her seven-year-old sister Miranda was knocked down and killed by the abductor's van. The girls were in the care of their nanny, Sally Wilkinson. One of the witnesses to this tragic event was David Umber, a Phd student who was waiting at the village pub to keep an appointment with a man called Griffin. But Griffin failed to show up, and Umber never heard from him again. Tamsin Hall was never seen again either.
'He is a superb storyteller' Sunday Independent
'Cliff-hanging entertainment' Guardian
'Had me utterly spellbound… Cracking good entertainment' Washington Post
'Takes the reader on a journey from which he knows he will not deviate until the final destination is reached' Evening Standard
'Combines the steely edge of a thriller with the suspense of a whodunnit, all interlaced with subtle romantic overtones' Time Out
'An atmosphere of taut menace… Suspense is heightened by shadows of betrayal and revenge' Daily Telegraph
'A thriller in the classic storytelling sense… Hugely enjoyable' The Times
When it comes to duplicity and intrigue, Goddard is second to none. He is a master of manipulation… a hypnotic, unputdownable thriller' Daily Mail
'Combines the expert suspense manipulation skills of a Daphne du Maurier romance with those of a John le Carre thriller' New York Times
'A cracker, twisting, turning and exploding with real skill' Daily Mirror
'His narrative power, strength of characterisation and superb plots, plus the ability to convey the atmosphere of the period quite brilliantly, make him compelling reading' Books

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'Your colleagues were happy to assure me of Radd's guilt.'

'They hadn't worked the case, Mrs Questred. I had.'

'What did your husband think about Radd?' Umber asked. 'Ex-husband, I mean. Mr Hall.'

'He believed Radd's confession. Everyone did. Everyone still does.'

'Sally didn't believe it.'

'I meant… everyone around me.'

'Your son too?'

'Yes.'

'What does Jeremy do these days?' asked Sharp.

'He runs a surfing and sailing school in Jersey. He's done very well. I'm proud of him.'

'It must be nice for his father, having him on the island.'

'Are you going to speak to them as well?'

'Probably, yes.'

'Jeremy didn't find it easy to cope with the loss of his sisters. How could he? His adolescence was… difficult. Oliver and I getting divorced didn't help. But Jeremy's put those troubles behind him now. I don't want him being forced to relive them all over again.'

'We can't force anyone to do anything.'

'You can rake up a lot of stuff he's better off forgetting. Speak to Oliver if you must. But, please, don't bother Jeremy.'

Sharp seemed wrong-footed by the request. He had admitted to Umber that he should have done a better job of investigating the Avebury case. Perhaps the least he owed Jane Questred was to spare her son's feelings. 'I'll, er… see what I can do.'

'Does that mean you'll leave Jeremy alone?'

'It means… I will if I can.'

'Do you see much of him, Mrs Questred?' Umber asked in an attempt to defuse the moment.

'Not as much as I'd like. He's too busy to leave Jersey very often. And if I go to see him, well… there's his stepmother to consider. It's… not easy.'

'I don't suppose it is.'

'And people going over there to stir up the past to no purpose won't help one little bit.'

'I wouldn't say to no purpose,' put in Sharp.

'Wouldn't you? Then perhaps you'd like to tell me what you hope to achieve by going into all this again. I expected you to bring something to me, Mr Sharp – some compelling reason for reopening old wounds that for some of us have never properly healed. But you've brought nothing. There's -' She broke off, aware that her self-control had faltered. 'Why are you doing this?'

A better explanation than she had so far been given was clearly called for. Sharp cleared his throat and cast a darting glance at Umber – a warning glance, it seemed.

'I had an anonymous letter, Mrs Questred. It said the truth about the Avebury case had never come out, but could still be uncovered if I was willing to make the effort. So…'

'You decided to make the effort.'

'Yes.'

'On the basis of an anonymous letter.'

'Yes.'

'May I see it?'

'I'm afraid not. I… destroyed it.'

'What?'

'I threw it on the fire. It was… my instant reaction. Later, I… decided I ought to… do something about it.'

'So, you haven't seen this letter either, Mr Umber?'

'Er, no.'

'How very convenient.'

'It's not -'

'I don't believe you, Mr Sharp. It's as simple as that. Destroying evidence would go against the grain even for a retired police officer.'

'I can assure -'

'Either there was no letter and you've simply dreamt it up as an excuse or there was a letter, which you've kept and almost certainly shown Mr Umber but aren't prepared to show me, because…' She looked Sharp in the eye. 'Why, I wonder? Because you think I might have written it?'

'No. I don't think that.'

'Then it must be because you think I might recognize the writing, but wouldn't tell you if I did.'

'There's no question of that, Mrs Questred. I -'

'I've heard enough.' The words echoed those Umber had spoken to Percy Nevinson. And he could hardly say they were any less justified. 'I must ask you both to leave.' Jane Questred rose to her feet and glared down at Sharp. 'I don't suppose there's anything I can do to stop you going on with this. But I'll try, believe me. For a start, I'll complain to the Chief Constable.'

Sharp stood up slowly and returned her gaze. He seemed minded to utter some retort, but he must have thought better of it. With a twitch of his head to Umber, he turned towards the door.

'I'm sorry, Mrs Questred,' Umber murmured as he moved past her.

'Mr Umber,' she said softly.

'Yes?' He stopped and looked at her.

'Edmund said you seemed surprised that I hadn't moved out of the area.'

'I was. A little.'

'You shouldn't be. I have two daughters buried here, remember. Miranda, in Marlborough Cemetery. And Tamsin, somewhere in Savernake Forest. Oliver wanted to have Miranda cremated, but I insisted on burial. I knew instinctively Tamsin was in the forest, long before Radd confessed. I often go there to be close to her. And to the cemetery, of course, to be close to Miranda. I failed them in life. I mustn't fail them in death.' She touched Umber's arm. 'Let them rest in peace. Please. For everyone's sake.'

* * *

'Not an entirely successful visit,' said Umber a few minutes later, as they started back along the Marlborough road.

'I cocked it up,' Sharp growled. 'You don't need to rub it in.'

'You shouldn't have lied to her, George.'

'I had no choice. We can't show her the letter, like she said, we wouldn't be able to trust her. She didn't send it. That's clear. But she might have good reason to protect whoever did.'

'Perhaps we should do as she asked. Lay off.'

'Not before I tackle Radd.'

'When will you go?'

'Right away. It's just possible Mrs Questred might be able to get me barred from the prison. There's no time to be lost.' Sharp cocked his wrist for a view of his watch. 'I don't know if I can make it up there before visiting hours end for the day. But I'm going to have to try.'

* * *

Sharp was in a hurry. But Umber suddenly had time on his hands. After Sharp had dropped him off in Marlborough High Street he walked up to the cemetery, set high on the hills north of the town. It was not a large cemetery. It did not take him long to find the grave he was looking for.

MIRANDA JANE HALL

1974-1981

SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME,

AND FORBID THEM NOT: FOR OF SUCH IS THE

KINGDOM OF GOD

MARK 10:14

From where he was standing there was a clear view across the valley of the grey-green swathe of Savernake Forest. Whenever Jane Questred visited Miranda's grave she could also see the place where she believed Tamsin had been laid in the earth. And she had been to the cemetery recently. There were fresh daffodils in the vase beneath the headstone. Perhaps she had been that very morning.

He walked slowly back down the hill into the town, turning over in his mind the question of what he should do for the best.

* * *

He did not hear from Sharp until early evening.

'The traffic was hell. I was way too late for visiting. I'm going to kip in Molly tonight and try my luck tomorrow.'

'OK.'

'Anything to report?'

'Nothing.'

'I don't know when I'll get back to Marlborough. It could be late.'

'Understood.'

'Until then, just sit tight.'

"Will do.'

* * *

But Umber had no intention of sitting tight.

EIGHT

Umber's enquiries the previous afternoon had prepared him for a protracted and circuitous journey come Wednesday morning. The distance he had to travel was actually quite modest. But a man reliant on public transport cannot dictate his route. So it was that shortly after daybreak he was standing outside Ladbroke's betting shop on Marlborough High Street, waiting for the number 48 bus.

To his chagrin, the timetable required him to change buses at Avebury. He had no wish to go back there so soon, if only because he feared Percy Nevinson would somehow contrive to wander past the bus stop at some point during the seven-minute interval between the arrival of the 48 and the departure of the 49. But he had no choice in the matter.

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