Deadly Deceit (36 page)

“If this is the eye of the storm,” he said, “we need to get this repaired before it starts up again.”

“I thought I heard a car.”

“You did, but it was only me checking to see if ours was okay in the garage.” He smiled. “The sea came up right over its wheels, but the engine seems fine. I found this box of tools on one of the shelves. Thought I’d start on some repairs.”

Jess nodded. Tom was such a reassuring presence. It would have been a nightmare in the house on her own last night. “I need to report Maggie’s murder to the police,” she said, “and find Sally.”

He looked at her. “Not sure if the road to the police station will be passable.”

“What time is it?”

He looked at his watch. “9.30.”

“How long have you been out here?”

“Fifteen minutes or so.” He paused. “It was totally calm when I woke up. Do you think we’re in the eye of the storm?”

She looked up at the sky. “Impossible to tell, but I want to go up to the Disaster Management Centre in case the storm starts up again. I’m not spending another night next to that raging sea.”

“Maybe the hurricane’s passed through?” He sounded unconvinced. “The house has stood up well, so far.”

“It’s survived hurricanes for decades.” She studied his drawn face. “You look like you could do with some caffeine.”

“Coffee would be great.”

“I’ll go and see if the cooker’s working. I’ll make us some eggs if it is, in case we get nothing else today. We’ll have to be really quick though.” She left him repairing the hurricane shutter and went back into the kitchen. She flicked on the light switch. Still no electricity. In the hallway she picked up the phone. Dead. She looked down at her mucky feet and went back into the kitchen. She didn’t have time to clean the floors. There wouldn’t be much point anyway if the sea came back in. When she turned on the tap, sludgy brown water came out. She’d have to use the water stored in the pans.

The Calor gas tank stood in a tall compartment below the hob, next to the oven. Balanced on a thick block of wood on the floor, it was tall enough for the water not to have reached the top valve that connected to the cooker hose. Brushing the damp sand off the hobs, she braced herself and switched one on. It lit immediately. She rushed around making eggs and coffee.

*

Tom put their bags, with a few things packed, in the boot of the car in case they couldn’t get back to the Residence later.

“I think we should check on Maggie before we go?” Jess said.

He looked at her.

“I just want to know if she’s… she’s at peace up there.”

“We’ll be back in ten minutes, if we can’t get along the road.”

“
Please
, Tom.”

“Okay. I’ll go.”

Jess waited at the front door with a heavy heart as he ran up the stairs to the attic. This house was so isolated, it felt like they were the only two people left on the island. Had everyone else come through the storm as well as they had? She looked along the drive, remembering her arrival. Only five days ago, yet it seemed an age. How stunning everything had looked that day, compared to the muddy mess now. She remembered walking along the verandah round to the back of the house, where she’d first met Maggie. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Tom came running down the stairs. “She’s lying peacefully up there,” he said. “In the house she loves.”

Jess nodded. “Thanks, Tom.”

“Right, come on.” He jumped into the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive slowly. The road will probably be littered with stuff.”

Jess sat quietly in the passenger seat as he started up the engine and drove off.

At the Governor’s Office, he put his foot on the brakes. “Want me to have a quick look round the building to see if everything’s all right?”

“Please.”

Leaving the engine running, with the gear in park, he jumped out.

Jess got out too and turned back to look up at the Residence attic windows. There’d never been anything but warmth and humanity in Maggie’s eyes. There was no way she could harm children. No way.

Tom shouted over. “No damage on the outside that I can see.”

She turned back and nodded.

“The hurricane shutters have protected all the windows,” he went on. “Don’t know about the state of the roof though.”

“At least it’s still on,” she said, drily.

He smiled as they got back in the car. It was slow going driving towards town. Tom drove carefully over or round debris, sometimes getting out to drag large branches, or the odd piece of corrugated iron roofing, to the side of the road. He looked at her as they heard something scratch the side of the car.

“The paintwork’s the least of our worries,” she said.

Large pools of water lay undrained on the main road into town. Tom took each one slowly, worried the car wouldn’t come out the other side. But he kept going. Outside town, people were repairing torn hurricane shutters and collecting up any debris the wind could hurl at their houses again. “We must be in the eye of the storm,” Jess said, flatly. “Or they wouldn’t be repairing things so quickly.”

“Yep.” Tom was concentrating on the road.

“Wonder how much longer we’ve got,” she mused. The sky was hazy, with no dark clouds on the horizon, yet.

As they got to the stretch of road that ran alongside the beach, the sea looked grey, rather than the usual aquamarine. The storm had churned up the seabed, leaving it cloudy and murky. Even in this calm spell, water lapped almost up to the road. Last night at the height of the storm, it would have been flooded and impassable.

Tom drove through the open gates of the police station, and parked next to a solitary police car. “Looks like someone’s here, at least.”

“What’s the time?” she asked.

“10.35.”

Inside, the floor was covered in the same mucky residue as in the Residence. Jess was glad she’d put on her trainers as she squelched up to the reception.

A young constable looked up from behind the desk. “Morning, Miss Turner.”

Jess was quite sure she hadn’t met him before, but everyone seemed to know who she was. “Is the Police Commissioner here?” she asked.

The young man shook his head. “He’s out assessing the damage.”

She nodded. “Have there been any fatalities or serious injuries?”

He nodded. “One man killed, so far. Some corrugated iron roofing smashed through his car windscreen. And two young boys are missing, possibly drowned. That’s all we’ve heard about so far, but there’s a
lot
of structural damage to houses and buildings.”

“What about the Haitian settlement?”

“Flattened.”

She sighed. “When do you expect the Police Commissioner back? I need to talk to him urgently.”

The young man shrugged. “Can
I
help you?”

She hesitated. She didn’t really want to tell him about Maggie, but she had no choice. “There’s been another murder, at the Residence,” she said, calmly, “the housekeeper.”

The young man stared at her. “
Maggie?
”

She nodded.

“Wait there! I’ll get the sergeant.” He almost ran down the slippery corridor.

Jess turned to Tom. “This is going to be a shock for everyone.”

“
Tom!
” A deep voice boomed from the corridor.

Tom turned. “Hi Chuck.” He looked relieved to see his contact again. “Have you two met?” he asked, looking from Jess to Chuck.

She went up to Chuck and held out her hand. “Jessica Turner.”

He shook her hand, firmly. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Turner. Now, what’s happened to Maggie?”

Jess glanced over at the young constable who was all ears. “Can we go somewhere private to talk?” Jess didn’t want everyone to know the gory details just yet.

“Sure. Follow me.” Chuck led them down the corridor and into an office at the back of the building. The floor of the police station was just as mucky as the Residence, but that didn’t bother Chuck. It was business as usual – or almost, with no electricity or computers.

Jess explained carefully about Maggie. She didn’t give him the gruesome details because she could barely bring herself to say the words. She just said Maggie had been killed in exactly the same way as Mrs Pearson.

Chuck rubbed his dark-ringed eyes and shook his head in astonishment. He looked at Tom, who just nodded. “When did you last see Maggie alive?” Chuck asked.

Jess looked over to the small window in the office. “Maggie cooked lunch for Tom and me yesterday. That’s the last time I saw her. Except… well, except I think I saw her at the Haitian settlement yesterday afternoon.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see her again at the Residence?”

“No.” They answered in unison.

“Right,” Chuck sounded weary. “I’ll get my truck and come back to the Residence with you.”

Jess turned to Tom. “Would you mind going back to the Residence with Chuck to do the necessary, while I look for Sally.”

Tom stared at her. “Where will you start looking?”

“Rebekah’s.” She turned to Chuck. “Did Charles Regan come back here yesterday afternoon to collect Mrs Canning when she was released?”

“I was here when they left,” he nodded.

“Good. Then I’ll go to Rebekah’s. I’m sure Charles will be with her. I only hope Sally’s with them.”

Tom frowned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go alone, Jess. The road’s a mess.”

She looked over at Chuck. “Do you know what the road’s like north of town?”

He shrugged. “Passable all the way up to North Creek, I believe.”

“Then I’ll be fine,” she said to Tom. “How long do we have before the storm starts again, Chuck?”

“Impossible to say.” He grabbed his waterproof jacket.

“Right, well I’ll go north to Rebekah’s,” she went on, “while you both go back to the Residence.” She looked at her watch. “Let’s meet back here in, say, an hour. Okay?”

Tom shook his head. “I’d better come with you, Jess.”

She could see the worry in his eyes. “I appreciate that, Tom. But I’d be really grateful if you’d help Chuck with Maggie.”

“But…”

“Please Tom. It’s important. You and Chuck know exactly how things should be done. We don’t want any mistakes. We have to catch whoever did this.”

He stared at her. “Oh all right.” He knew he wouldn’t win the argument. “But come back here as soon as the wind starts picking up again, Jess. Don’t take any risks.”

“Of course not,” she replied.

Chuck picked up his keys from the desk. “Come on, Tom. We don’t have much time.”

Passable was not the word Jess would have used to describe the road leading to Rebekah’s house. She wasn’t the first person to drive along it since the storm, because broken branches and other debris had been dragged to the side. But it was slow going as she picked her way carefully along. Their car was the only means of getting around, and the last thing she wanted to do was damage it.

Drawing up at Rebekah’s house, she saw one of the metal front gates had been ripped off its hinges, barring the way. The flagpole lay horizontal across the front lawn, with the Union Jack ripped to shreds. The pretty white plantation shutters had all gone too.

She left the car outside the gates and walked through the debris littering the garden to the front door. There was no no-one around, and no cars in the driveway. No sign of that black cat that jumped at her last time either. At the front door, she had a sense of being watched and turned round, but she couldn’t see anyone.

She knocked uneasily on the front door and waited. No reply. This time, she banged on it with a clenched fist.

“Rebekah? Charles? Are you there?” she called. “It’s me, Jess.” Silence. She glanced over her shoulder again, then walked round to the side of the house. She couldn’t see inside because all the windows were boarded up with hurricane shutters.

Round the back, two of the dwarf palms bordering the garden were down. Turning to the house, she jumped…

Rebekah was sitting on the verandah in a rocking chair, with her eyes closed and a shawl around her shoulders.

“Didn’t you hear me knocking?” Jess shouted over.

No reply.

She walked over and touched Rebekah’s shoulder.

Her eyes flashed open, making Jess step back. She was wary of this woman after yesterday.

Rebekah didn’t move a muscle, but her dark eyes appraised Jess. “Charles said you’d come.”

That unrecognisable voice unsettled Jess.

“He said you’ve been watching us ever since you got here.”

“And what a fine performance
you’ve
put on!”

Rebekah said nothing, which annoyed Jess. She pulled a rattan chair round and sat down, facing Rebekah. “No need to play games any more.” Jess kept her voice low and calm. “I know your real name’s Gloria Diaz, and that you’re an actress, and that you and Charles have been… close since your twenties.”

Rebekah inclined her head, face impassive.

“So why the English accent?”

Rebekah looked at her, as if surprised to be asked that question. “For Dominic, of course. He’s the only man who’s ever really taken care of me. Or loved me for… me.” Her eyes glistened. “Everyone else in my life has left me. My mother, my father.” She gazed blankly ahead of her. “Men along the way.”

Jess tried hard to be patient. “Not everyone, Rebekah. I know you and Charles have been close for years. He’s never left you, or so it seems.”

Rebekah’s eyes fixed on her again. “I can’t escape him.”

What did she mean by that? “Where is Charles?” Jess asked.

“Gone to look for his precious brother.”

The way Rebekah drawled the word ‘precious’, suggested she didn’t care for Brad. Why not, Jess wondered? “Is Sally with him?” she asked.

“Certainly not.”

“But have you seen Sally?” Jess persisted.

“She’s not welcome in this house,” she said, flatly.

Jess saw the shutters come down. “Why’s that, Rebekah? Because Sally had your number?”

Rebekah gave a dismissive laugh. “You don’t know what it’s like to be brought up in the slums.”

It wasn’t said in a self-pitying way, but more as a matter of fact. “No,” Jess said. “But plenty of people are brought up in poverty around this world. You’re not alone in that.”