Death on Lindisfarne (12 page)

“I
FORGOT
,” A
IDAN SAID
. “We haven't got a car. David dropped us here and drove on down the road.”

But when they climbed the dunes, there were two cars at the roadside: a silver Vauxhall that must be DC Chappell's and the Cavendishes' red CR-V.

They watched the helicopter lift off. The coastguard Land Rover rolled towards them, with its crew of four.

David was standing beside his vehicle. “I take it you found her, then? Is she all right?”

“She's dead,” Peter told him abruptly.

“No! I'm so sorry! Terrible business.” He looked flustered, not knowing what to do. He turned to Lucy. “Can I give you a lift back?”

“Thanks. Can you take Peter and Aidan too?”

“Anything to help.”

Aidan turned to DC Chappell. “If you come back to the village now, the water will be over the causeway.”

“Occupational hazard for Holy Island. Luckily there's not much crime here. I've got mates on the island. John will give me a bed if I'm stuck.” He waved to the big coastguard as the Land Rover swung past them onto the road. “I need to take your statements. My bosses will expect me to have done my homework when they get here.”

Aidan glared at him, with a glance at the back of Lucy's fair head. “You're treating it as a suspicious death?”

“That's not for me to decide. But the coastguards aren't too happy. Would you say she was a suicide risk?”

Peter's voice burst unexpectedly beside them. “Rachel was always on the edge of suicide.”

The constable's face lit up. He turned from Aidan to the student who was about to clamber into David's car.

“You and Rachel go back… how long?”

“We went to school together,” came Peter's muffled voice. “When she was there.”

Aidan let the burden of the investigation pass from him. He heard snatches of their conversation. Peter, he noticed, seemed reluctant to give away any more about Rachel than he had to. Aidan remembered how the student had always been at her shoulder, as if silently protecting her. Was he protecting her still?

Fragments of the picture fell into place: Rachel at odds with her teachers; the growing absences.

“If she'd had a different mother, it wouldn't have happened!” Peter let out an uncharacteristic burst of emotion.

“What wouldn't?”

But the student lapsed back into generalities. “Moving around. Care homes. Fostering. Like she felt nobody cared about her.”

“Was she ever in trouble with the police?”

Aidan knew the inevitability of the answer.

“A bit. Nothing serious,” Peter muttered.

“Any associates we need to know about? That would be back in… Where did you say? Devon?”

Peter suddenly burst out, with a vehemence that made the others turn round: “You're wasting your time. She had a rotten life. And she couldn't take it any more. End of story. There's nothing suspicious about her death. Not even surprising. If anyone's to blame, it's all of us.”

The listeners fell silent.

Yes, Aidan thought. There had been that first brief meeting, when her eyes had sparkled. But after that, from the little he had seen of Rachel behind that curtain of dark hair, she had looked deeply unhappy.

DC Chappell said uncomfortably, “I'll need to get all this down for you to sign.”

Aidan climbed after Peter into David's car. They followed the Land Rover along the road, with the detective's car behind them.

Aidan was surprised at the weariness that came over him as they swung into the car park of St Colman's. The coastguard driver raised his hand in farewell and drove off into the lamplit village. Aidan, Peter, Lucy and David clambered out of the 4x4. DC Chappell drew up beside them.

The four of them walked up to the house that would always be empty now of one of its guests. Their search had ended in a result, but it felt like failure.

“I'll need to take statements from everyone who knew her,” DC Chappell said.

Lucy nodded.

As they entered the hall, Aidan was assaulted by a slender figure that hurled itself from the lounge to wrap skinny arms around him and hug him tight.

“Whoa, there! I take it you're glad to see me back.”

Melangell nodded vigorously and buried her face against his chest.

Elspeth was hoisting herself out of an armchair. Valerie was sitting upright, expectant. More guardedly, Frances Cavendish was on her feet, her mouth downturned in sympathy.

Mrs Batley appeared behind the new arrivals, her face tense and avid for news.

“Have they taken her away? That poor girl! And what with that gentleman coming in with blood all over his face. I've never had a thing like this happen to any of my folk at St Colman's. Never!”

“I'm sorry.” Aidan watched Lucy turn a weary face to their landlady. “This must be upsetting for you. But it can't be helped.”

Mrs Batley's face softened. “I'm not the one you should be sorry for. You look worn out.”

Lucy turned with a visible effort to the police officer. “This is Detective Constable Chappell. He'll be wanting to ask us all some questions.”

“I'm sure I can't tell him anything. I hardly saw the girl. She was missing more than she was here.”

“Is there anywhere I could talk to these folk?” Len Chappell asked her. “One on one?”

“Well, there's the television room. Only I made it more of a chapel for Lucy.” She pointed to a door the other side of the entrance. Then she turned back to Lucy. “It's seven o'clock. Do I serve supper? And where's Miss English got to?”

Aidan stiffened suddenly and scanned the lounge. Only then did he realize that there was still no sign of Sue.

Melangell wriggled out of Aidan's arms. “I'll go upstairs and see if she's in her room, shall I?”

She bolted away before he could answer.

DC Chappell was looking at his watch, aware of Mrs Batley's disapproving eye on him.

“I won't keep them very long. I just need a statement from everybody, saying anything they can help us with about the deceased.”

He looked round the group, considering. “Reverend, perhaps I ought to begin with you.”

Lucy was startled out of her private thoughts. “What? Oh, yes. If you like.”

She started to move with him towards the chapel room when there were more footsteps on the stairs. Melangell came into sight, bright-eyed with self-importance. Behind her, with heavy steps, came Sue. Her broad face was blotched with tears.

“Sue!” Lucy started forward. “Are you all right? Where have you been?”

“Out.” Sue seemed to realize suddenly that everyone was looking at her. She saw for the first time the sober looks on their faces, the stranger in the hall. Melangell must not have told her. Her hand flew to her mouth. “What's happened?” A frightened look round. “Where's James?”

Lucy said carefully, “We don't know what happened. That's what we'd like to find out. James came back about five o'clock. He's had a nasty bang on the head. We don't know whether he fell or whether something hit him. He looked as though he might have concussion, so we sent him across to the hospital to get checked out. We wanted to tell you, but nobody knew where you were.”

Sue shifted uncomfortably. A closed look came down over her face. “I needed some time out. I went off and found some rocks on the beach. There was a little cove. I guessed the rain would keep people away.”

“Did you see anyone else there? Rachel?”

“If you don't mind, Rev, I think that's my line of enquiry,” DC Chappell objected.

Once more, Aidan saw Lucy start.
She's dropped into police mode,
he thought.
Where Rachel's concerned, this is her enquiry as much as his.
He sensed a battle within her.

Then she bowed her head in weary acknowledgement.

“Right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tread on your toes. It's just that they're my group. I feel responsible.”

“Only natural.”

The young detective was looking from Lucy to Sue, evidently unsure whether to go through with his plan of taking Lucy's statement first, or whether Sue might have new information. He reached his decision.

“Right, Reverend. If I could start with you.”

The door of the television room closed behind them.

Sue was looking at the rest of them in alarm. “Did any of you see him? Was he badly hurt? What did he say?”

Aidan took charge of the situation. “We were all here. We were getting ready to go and look for Rachel when James came in looking the worse for wear – bleeding from his head wound. Groggy, but able to walk. It wasn't until we got him into a chair that he passed out.”

“Then we put him to bed in his room,” Melangell said eagerly. “I put some towels on the pillow because of the blood. And then the ambulance car came and took him away.”

Sue looked at them blankly. “Why is that man here? Is he the police?”

An awkward silence fell over the group. Elspeth cleared her throat noisily. “Sorry. Has nobody got around to telling you? Rachel drowned.”

The shock held them still, even those of them who had known it before. A little part of Aidan's mind was telling him,
We
think
she drowned. There'll have to be a post-mortem.

Sue shook her head slowly, as if she could not take all this in.

“Did James…? Did she…?”

Aidan said firmly, “Last time I saw James he was on the slope below the castle. When he came back, he seemed to think he came round in the castle garden. We found Rachel's body on the North Shore. That's miles away.”

He thought, but did not say, that the coves to which Sue had been heading lay considerably nearer the North Shore.

I
T WAS A SUBDUED MEAL
. Mrs Batley put smoked mackerel and salad in front of them. Aidan could have done with the comforting warmth of soup. Sue crumbled bread between her fingers and ate little.

“Why don't you ring the hospital?” Valerie suggested. “They may have news about him.”

Would she do it? Aidan wondered. The words of their quarrel were echoing in his mind. Sue jealous about Rachel; about all James's female followers.

Mrs Batley was serving the second course when Lucy returned from the interview room. She nodded to Sue. “He'll see you next.”

“Oh, good! It's toad in the hole,” Melangell cried.

“I'm glad somebody's got an appetite,” Mrs Batley retorted.

Aidan was drinking coffee in the lounge when he was called.

Mrs Batley had moved the large television screen into the corner. In its place she had set a table with a wooden Celtic cross and a bowl of spring flowers. DC Chappell had moved these to one side and was using the table for a writing desk.

Peter had been in before Aidan, and had presumably already told the constable the details of finding Rachel's body.

But Chappell wanted to take him further back.

“So, you saw Rachel in the priory this morning.”

“We all did. It was part of Lucy's course. First we had a service, then she told us the story of St Aidan coming to Lindisfarne.”

“And you didn't see Rachel leave?”

“No. I was listening to Lucy. And Rachel was… well, an unpredictable sort of person. The first time I saw her, she looked bright and bouncy.
But only a short time afterwards she turned into this shadowy sort of figure. From then on, she crept about with her head down, not saying very much. Almost as though…”

“Yes?”

“She was frightened.”

“Frightened of what?”

“I've no idea.”

He gave a careful account of his and Melangell's movements. Of Lucy's concern for the missing girl. Of his own offer to keep his eyes open for her. Their visit to the castle. He hesitated for a moment, then decided it was no time to keep information back.

“Just as we were about to come away, we heard voices from below us. Sue and James. They were quarrelling.”

“Oh, yes? About what?” The policeman's hand gripped his pen, poised over his notebook.

“I got the impression that James has something of a track record with impressionable young females. Did you know he was the pastor of a church? Sue was accusing him of taking some of them off to the vestry for – I think she was being ironic – ‘personal counselling'. She seemed to think he had his eye on Rachel.”

Had Sue told DC Chappell this? Aidan wondered.

The constable gave nothing away.

“And that was it? No struggle? Nothing physical?”

“We couldn't actually see them. We were on the roof. There wasn't a sight line down to that slope below the wall. Sue seems to have stormed off, but James was still OK then. At least, he sounded as if he was. He called after her. Ordered her to come back.”

“And did she?”

“No. When we got down to the foot of the castle we saw her walking away. She was heading for where she said she went: towards Emmanuel Head.”

“And what about James?”

Aidan shrugged. “We never saw him. I suppose he went to the garden. That's where he said he came round.”

“What time would this be?”

“Mm. About four? It looked as though there was heavy rain on its way, so Melangell and I legged it back to the house. Probably a bit before four, come to think of it. Mrs Batley was setting out afternoon tea in the lounge, and we were the first.”

“And then?”

“Lucy and Peter came back really concerned. They'd been out looking for Rachel, and hadn't found her. Lucy had rung the police, and they'd tried to reassure her that Rachel was an adult and it was a bit early to start panicking. Anyway, we split up into pairs to search the rest of the island And then James came in.”

“Thank you. Yes, I've got what happened then. Once the Reverend Pargeter had called the ambulance, you set off with Peter,” he checked the surname, “Fathers, to search the dunes and the North Shore.”

“That's right. It was Peter who found her. He was on the beach and I was up on the dunes. He phoned Lucy and the police. You know the rest.”

“And at no time did you see this young woman with Mr Denholme?”

“James? No.”

“Thank you. Would you send Miss Haccombe in?”

Aidan walked out into the hall. Did this policeman really think there was some connection between James's wound and Rachel's death?

He was making for the lounge when the front door opened. A man Aidan had never seen before strode in. He wore jeans, a black sweatshirt and a dog collar.

He held out a ready hand to Aidan.

“I'm terribly sorry to hear what happened. It's awful. Brother Simon. Fellowship of St Ebba and St Oswald. Could you tell me where I can find Lucy?”

Aidan showed Brother Simon into the lounge. He just had time to see the relieved delight that crossed Lucy's face before the newcomer strode across to her, arms wide, and crushed her to him in a hug.

“Lucy! Poor lamb! What a dreadful thing to happen.” His wavy black hair overshadowed her lighter curls.

Aidan felt an unexpected jar. It had not occurred to him that Lucy would already know people on the island. Of course, now that he came to think of it, she had made it clear that Lindisfarne was one of her favourite places. She must have come here on many occasions. It was natural she would know some of its people too.

But not necessarily as well as this. There was no mistaking the note of intimacy in Brother Simon's voice. He and Lucy must go back some way.

As they separated, he caught the pleasure in Lucy's face. The priest's ready sympathy was sparking tears from her eyes, and yet his warmth was drawing a smile from her, even on a day like today.

A startling thought pierced the surface of Aidan's mind. He couldn't be
jealous
, could he?

He was shocked by the treachery that idea implied. Jenny had been dead less than six months. And he had shouted at Lucy when he thought she was invading his privacy. He turned away and discovered that his fist was curled in a tight ball. To calm himself, he stepped past Melangell, who had been playing Ludo with Peter on the floor, and retrieved his half-empty coffee cup. He took it to the table to see if the thermos jug was still hot.

“Look, this is a rotten business,” Brother Simon was saying. “I gather the police are involved. Well, they would be, wouldn't they? A sudden, unexplained death. No, I'm not going to ask you what you think happened. You'll have had enough of that. I'm just offering a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to. Even,” he swung his youthful smile around the rest of the group, “if these delightful people will let me, a share of this course you're running. I don't imagine you're feeling up to Celtic history just at the moment.”

Lucy gave him a wan smile. “It's been a shock for all of us. Peter and Aidan found her. And the police still have to question Valerie and the Cavendishes. Not to mention James, who's in hospital.”

The clergyman's eyebrows rose. “My! You
have
been having a difficult time. Tell me about it when you feel stronger.”

Valerie Grayson and David and Frances were sitting rather stiffly in their chairs, still awaiting their turn. Peter was watching Lucy and her unexpected friend with a surprised look on his face. Sue was not in the room. Aidan guessed she would have followed Valerie's suggestion and gone to telephone the hospital for news of James.

Brother Simon now had his arm round Lucy's shoulders, possessively. He swung her to face the rest of the room.

“Look, this can't have been what any of you expected when you signed up for a holiday here. We can only pray for the poor girl. Rachel, isn't it? But I promise we'll make it up to you as best we can. If you don't mind, I'm going to take Lucy off on our own for a while. She's in need of some TLC. But if you stay around, I'll be back to talk to the rest of you.”

He steered Lucy out of the room. When the door closed behind them, it was as though a boisterous wind had fallen silent.

After several moments, David Cavendish spoke, almost belligerently. “Who was
that
?”

“A clergyman, dear.” Frances put a hand on his knee. “Didn't you see his dog collar?”

“He told me he was from the Fellowship of St Ebba and St Oswald,” Aidan supplied. “I imagine that's some sort of religious community on the island.”

“Yes,” Peter agreed. “Lucy said she'd invite him over one day to talk to us. He and Lucy go back years. They were at theological college together.”

“Well, it's all very well for him to talk about making it up to us,” David protested. “He's not in our shoes. A thing like this can't help but spoil your holiday. No disrespect to the poor girl, of course. Don't want to speak ill of the dead. But it's not what we bargained for when we booked a week here. I'm thinking of asking for our money back. The balance, anyway. And take off somewhere else tomorrow. Put all this unpleasantness behind us.”

There was stillness in the room.

Valerie steepled her fingertips together and said in a quiet voice, “That's understandable. It's been a shock for all of us. But personally, I
shall stay and support Lucy. If it was just Rachel's death, it might have been kinder to leave her alone. Or at least with Peter, whom she knows. But there's all this business with James to be sorted out. I just hope it was a simple accident. I don't think we can just walk out on Lucy and leave her to cope.”

Aidan felt a sense of gratitude for her calm good sense.

Elspeth strode into the room, filling it as usual with her larger-than-life personality.

“It's an old cliché, but really, that detective's still wet behind the ears. I've seen boys coming out of the school gates who look older. He wants you next, Val.”

Valerie rose with a small smile. “I'm sorry, but you've just missed the latest drama. It appears Lucy has a… shall we say a very good friend here. A fellow clergyman. He's just swept her off for some tender loving care. Not that she doesn't need it, poor soul. But he says if we hang around he'll be back to talk to us.”

“Hrmmph! Any more coffee in that jug?”

Frances had taken her turn with DC Chappell before Brother Simon returned. Sue had not reappeared. Aidan wondered what the news of the injured James was.

When Brother Simon came back, Lucy was not with him. Now that his first surprise had subsided, Aidan's keen eye assessed the priest more levelly. Younger than him, he guessed. A thick head of wavy black hair that fell forward over his brow. Keen blue eyes, quick and intelligent. It was not a handsome face, but the lively play of emotions over it caught the attention. He would probably be a hit with women.

In his presence, Aidan was conscious of his own smaller stature, his foxy red hair and beard. Not every woman's choice.

But Jenny had loved him. Jenny had borne his child.

Jenny was no longer here to affirm him.

What was it about clergymen and their relations with women? Sue had been jealous of James and his female congregation.

Aidan had not the slightest reason in the world to be jealous about Simon and Lucy.

The priest threw the warmth of his smile around them like an embrace. He looked about him and chose an armchair facing them.

“I'm Brother Simon. Call me Simon, if you like. Technically, ordination makes me Father, but that sounds a bit too patriarchal.

“Would it embarrass you if I led a prayer for Rachel? Feel free to tune out if it's not your thing. But I feel that for some of you it's the right and proper expression of our love. Rachel got up this morning, with most of her life in front of her. Now she's with her Maker. We ought to honour that rite of passage and sing her on her way into the arms of the angels.”