A Cornish Revenge (The Loveday Ross Cornish Mysteries Book 1) (15 page)

  He turned his attention back to Laura. ‘But you would have a record of who came into the museum that day?’

  Laura looked surprised. ‘Why, yes. Could that help?’

  ‘It might,’ said Sam. ‘Perhaps you could dig it out for me.’

  The tapes were duly recovered and put into a thick brown envelope, which Sam took back to headquarters. He set Amanda on the task of going through the footage.

  ‘What am I looking for?’ she asked, brows knitted.

  ‘If I knew that then the case would solve itself.’

  Amanda shot him a look, and he realised he had spoken more sharply than he’d intended.

  ‘Well I don’t know, do I?’ he said. ‘But there might be something. See if you can recognise any of the visitors.’

  It wasn’t often he had to explain himself to Amanda. It was a sign of how frustrated his team was becoming. More than a week, and they were still no closer to finding Bentine’s killer.

  It was just over an hour before Amanda came back to him and he could see by her face that she had found something.

  ‘It might be nothing, boss, but I think you should have a look at this.’

Sam followed her back to the main office, to the computer screen where she had paused the image. She clicked the picture back into motion and saw her senior officer’s jaw tighten before a slow smile spread across his face.

‘Well done Detective Constable Fox,’ he said. ‘Now come with me, we have a visit to make.’

Loveday walked slowly back to the office after Sam left her at the pub. She had to think, and she could best do that calmly at her cottage in Marazion. Telling Keri she would spend the rest of the day working from home, she collected her things and headed off.

Cassie’s door opened when she heard her friend’s car approaching and rushed out to meet her. ‘Come in,’ said called, her eyes shining. ‘You won’t believe this.’

The old oak table in the Trevellick’s comfortably untidy front room was strewn with printouts of newspaper cuttings. Cassie selected one and handed it to Loveday. ‘Recognise anyone?’ Her eyes glittered with excitement. ‘The name’s different, but I’m right, aren’t I?’

   Loveday stared at the black and white image. What she saw didn’t make any sense. ‘This has to be wrong,’ she said.

    Adam came and put his arm around Cassie. ‘There’s no mistake, Loveday,’ he said, quietly. ‘Take a closer look.’

   She did, but she still couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

‘And there’s this,’ Cassie said, sliding another printout of a newspaper cutting towards Loveday.

   ‘You have to tell the police about this,’ Adam said. ‘Ring Inspector Kitto.’

   Loveday’s brow wrinkled as she stared at the cuttings, trying to work out what this new information could mean. One thing was sure - someone had a lot of explaining to do!

Assuring her friends that she would call Sam, she let herself in the back door of her cottage and dumped her things on the kitchen table. She’d noticed some post on the mat at the front door and went to the narrow hall to pick it up.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

There were three letters, one obviously a bill, another was a circular, and she tossed them aside. The third envelope was hand-written. She picked it up and frowned at the odd way it was addressed.

‘
Miss Loveday Ross, the Cottage at the Doctor’s House, Marazion
.’ It had a local postmark. Curious, she turned it over looking for clues to the sender, but there were none, so she opened it. Her mouth dropped as she read the first words.

‘
Dear Loveday,

  ‘I killed Paul Bentine, but then I think you already knew that. I’m coming clean now because I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the clueless little wimp act. You saw through that too, Loveday, didn’t you?

   ‘But don’t feel bad about it because Bentine deserved to die. I was just the lucky one who got to him first.

‘It was easy for me because I’ve done it before. I don’t like bullies. My Barry was a bully. Now he’s dead. I stuck a knife in him.

‘Bentine was my brief back then. He said if I pleaded guilty he could get me off on diminished responsibility, or something like that. But he was a rubbish lawyer and I got seven years. So you can see why he had to die, can’t you?’

  Loveday’s hand was over her mouth, her heart hammering as she read on.

  ‘Abbie was the perfect cover – the posh, bossy one that everybody thought was in charge. It suited me to go on playing the part of poor, downtrodden Kit.

Not even Abbie suspected I knew how to handle a boat. She believed me when I told her I went for long, solitary walks. She’d no idea about the car, or the boat and trailer I had hidden in a lock up near here. But there’s a look in her eye now that makes me think she’s getting suspicious. I can’t let her live if she knows about me. You can understand that, can’t you, Loveday?’

  There was no signature

   Loveday dropped the letter and the pages scattered across the kitchen table. It was what Cassie had suspected when she’d spotted Kit’s picture with the report of her trial. She’d recognised her from seeing her and Abbie leave Loveday’s cottage the other day. Loveday’s hand trembled as she lifted the letter again. To see an account written down so graphically admitting she had killed Paul Bentine, as well as her husband, was chilling.

Why hadn’t she gone to the police when she had the chance? Abbie’s life was now in danger, and it was all her fault! Her mind did an instant replay of the scene in her friends’ house. Once again she was scanning Cassie’s printout of the newspaper cutting, with the headline screaming out at her – ‘Killer Wife Gets Seven Years.’

   It was a report of Jane Smith, alias Kit Armitage’s trial for the murder of her husband, Barry Smith. The prosecution alleged that she had premeditatedly killed her husband in cold blood by ramming a kitchen knife into his stomach. Smith had pleaded guilty to murder.

Her solicitor told the jury that Barry Smith had engineered his own death, taunting his wife and urging her to kill him. He explained the man was a manic-depressive who had, on numerous occasions, beaten his wife. He told the jury that Smith had previously miscarried a baby after her husband assaulted her, and described other previous assaults. But Jane Smith was still convicted of murder and jailed for seven years.

   She had to contact Sam. Poor Kit was obviously deranged - and now she was going to kill Abbie! Sam had to see this letter.

She glanced at her watch. It was almost four o’clock. Would Sam be in the office? She chewed her lip anxiously as the dialing tone connected and the phone rang out at the police headquarters in Truro. But Sam wasn’t there. He’d gone off somewhere with Will and Amanda.

  She ran a hand through her hair, unsure what to do next. Then she remembered that Sam had called her when he was trying to contact Cassie. His mobile number would still be in her phone. She found it.

  ‘Loveday? What’s wrong?’ He sounded anxious.

  ‘This is all my fault,’ she gasped. ‘I should have told you before.’ Her words were coming out in a garble. ‘Kit Armitage killed Bentine…and now she’s going to kill Abbie.’

   ‘Loveday. Calm down. Just tell me quietly what all this is about.’

   In a jerky voice, Loveday read out Kit’s letter. She heard Sam shocked intake of breath.

  ‘Christ!’ he said. ‘Where are you now. At home? OK. Don’t move from there. I’ll send someone round to collect the letter...And don’t touch it again, Loveday. It’s evidence now.’

  She watched the seconds tick by on the kitchen clock. Patience wasn’t her strong point. She eyed the letter with unease as though the pages might spontaneously combust before her eyes. She didn’t want it in her cottage.

  If Sam had instructed the local police to pick it up then they should be here in minutes, but if it was to be one of his investigation team from Truro then who knows how long it would take them to get to Marazion.

  Her mobile rang and she grabbed it. The number was not familiar, but the voice was. She froze. ‘Abbie?’

‘Oh, Loveday. Thank God I’ve found you. It’s Kit. She went out walking this morning and hasn’t come back. I’m really worried about her.’ She paused, then… ‘She said something about the cliff path near here, but it’s been raining and…well…it’ll be dangerous out there.’

Her words were coming in gulps as though she was fighting for breath. ‘Can you come, Loveday…at once?’

  The hammering in Loveday’s chest was her heart. Kit’s letter was on the table. She could see the words from here…
‘I can’t let her live if she knows about me’.

     ‘Are you all right, Abbie? Where are you?’

  ‘In the car park at the Miner’s Lamp. I’ve called the emergency services.’

   ‘Well stay there until they arrive. Don’t leave the car park. Do you hear me, Abbie? Don’t attempt to go on the cliffs by yourself.’

   Loveday squinted up the drive, but there was still no sign of any police car. She was beginning to panic. What if Kit wasn’t really missing? What if this was an elaborate hoax to entice Abbie onto the cliffs? She couldn’t wait any longer. I’ll be right with you, Abbie,’ she called. ‘Wait there for me.’

  Grabbing her jacket from the peg behind the kitchen door, she stuffed her phone into the pocket and picked up the car keys before running to hammer on Cassie’s back door.

  Cassie came out, wiping wet hands on her apron. ‘Heavens, Loveday. Where’s the fire?’

  ‘Haven’t got time to explain,’ Loveday said breathlessly. 'The police are on their way. The letter they want is on the kitchen table. Tell them I’ve gone to meet Abbie Grainger in the car park at the Miner’s Lamp. I think she’s in some kind of danger.’ Her words tailed off into the wind as she slammed the car door and sped away down the drive.

  Cassie frowned. Loveday was always in such a hurry. She checked to make sure her friend had locked her back door. She hadn’t. Cassie went in and saw the pages of a letter scattered over the table. If it had been private, then the pages would have been folded back into the envelope. Her hand flew to her mouth as she read the words. ‘Oh my God, Loveday. What have you got yourself into now?’

Loveday’s grip was tight on the steering wheel as she sped along the seafront. If she could believe Kit’s letter, then the woman truly was deranged. She knew it was reckless, rushing off like this, but Abbie’s life could be at risk and if she waited for the police then it might be too late. Surely they wouldn’t be far behind her?

  The car park at the Miner’s Lamp was crowded. The pub’s lunch menu was popular. She spotted Abbie’s familiar red jacket at once, but today the woman’s face, devoid of its usual careful make-up, was drawn and grey. Her hair was disheveled and straggly, but she didn’t seem to care. She waved and Loveday hurried to meet her, glancing back anxiously for any sign a blue flashing light. The police couldn’t be far away now, could they? Loveday focused all her concentration on staying calm.

  ‘There’s still no sign of her,’ Abbie screeched, hurrying across the car park. She pointed out across the fields, to where the breakers would be crashing onto the rocks at the foot of the cliffs.  ‘Kit’s out there, somewhere. What if she’s fallen and broken her leg…or worse?’ She ran a hand over her tousled hair. ‘I’ve been nearly frantic with worry.’ She gripped Loveday’s arm. ‘We have to look for her.’

  ‘That’s not a good idea, Abbie. We should wait for help.’ But her words were too late. Abbie had turned and was already running in the direction of the cliff path. She tore after her, trying to keep up. The weather was closing in and Loveday’s eyes were stinging in the sharp wind. ‘Stop, Abbie,’ she yelled, but the woman was running like a creature possessed. Loveday’s breath was coming in gasps. This was the same rough farm road that she and Lawrence had walked. Had that only been a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime ago now.

She shot another desperate look back towards the car park, but still the police were nowhere in sight.

  At last, gasping for breath, she caught up with Abbie and grabbed her arm, making her stop. ‘What makes you think Kit would have come out here?’ she panted.

  Abbie was sounding remarkably calm now. ‘This is her favourite walk. It’s the solitude. She loves the sound of the sea…the cliffs…all of that.’

  The words in Kit’s letter came back to her. ‘
She believed me when I told her I went for long, solitary walks. She’d no idea about the car, or the boat and trailer I had hidden in a lock up near here.’

  They had reached the exposed cliff top, where the wind was even stronger. Loveday could hear the thundering waves as they crashed into the caves below, and wondered if the weather had been like this the night Bentine died. The shocking image of his body in the cove that had haunted her since that awful morning came surging back.

  Where was Sam for heavens sake?  Surely he must be speeding to her at this very minute? Where the hell was he?

It was then that Loveday realised something was missing. She stopped to listen. There was no sound of a helicopter. From here she could see a wide expanse of ocean, and there was definitely no rescue helicopter in sight. Nor was there any sign of a lifeboat. Surely if Abbie had called the emergency services, as she had said, then they would be here...out there searching. But there was nothing. They were all alone!

  She bit her lip and forced herself to take long breaths. She needed to take stock of the situation, try to work out what was going on. ‘We should call the police again…or the coastguards,’ she said, but her words came out strangled.

  Abbie’s eyes narrowed, strands of hair were plastered across her face. ‘Not yet,’ she said, ‘we might find her ourselves.’

  Loveday kept her eyes on Abbie’s back as she picked her way along the precarious cliff path. The first drops of rain were in the air, with more great sheets of it blowing across the sea. Then she saw it!

The pink jacket was spread over the rocks below. It was Kit’s jacket. Why was it here? Then Loveday froze, staring down in horror. Kit’s body lay face down, suspended on a jagged rock above the surging foam. Her right hand flung out, as though in some desperate bid to save herself. She looked like a hideous broken doll.

  ‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ Abbie’s voice was chilling. ‘I warned her not to come out here, but she was so stubborn.’

  Loveday swung round to face her. Abbie was shaking her head, her eyes glittering, but there was no sign of shock - nothing of the horror Loveday was feeling at the sight of Kit’s poor broken body down there on the rocks.

  …And Abbie had known where to find Kit. She’d led her to the very spot. Loveday tried to push away the thoughts that were now crowding into her head. To the left of the footpath the ground had been disturbed. The earlier rain had made it muddy and the impressions of footprints could be clearly seen. Loveday had a fleeting mental image of the two women struggling. Maybe Kit hadn’t been as tough as her letter suggested. She could see Abbie’s strong hands on Kit’s shoulders…one last push and…

  She felt a touch on her arm and recoiled. ‘Are you all right, Loveday?’ It was Abbie. ‘You’ve had a shock. We both have. We must be strong for each other now.’

  An involuntary shudder swept through Loveday’s body. Had she got this all wrong?  She couldn’t have misunderstood Kit’s letter…if it was Kit’s letter. But it had been typed. There hadn’t even been a hand-written signature at the end. Why hadn’t she been more suspicious? A chilling horror was beginning to seep into Loveday’s bones. She drew back from the edge, but not before Abbie had noticed her glance at the spot where she had struggled with Kit more than an hour before.

  ‘We need to get help,’ Loveday said quickly, turning back, but Abbie caught her sleeve.

  ‘You know, don’t you?’ Abbie said. The control in her voice was disturbing.

  Loveday frowned. ‘Know?’

  ‘That Kit didn’t fall.’

  Loveday felt her blood run cold.

  ‘Poor Kit…life just got too much for her. She suffered so badly from depression.’ She turned to Loveday. ‘Well, you saw it for yourself that day at your house.’

  Abbie was shaking her head. ‘Her sister dying like that was just too much for her.’

  ‘You think she killed herself?’ Loveday asked incredulously.

  ‘I know she did.’ Abbie’s jaw had tightened and her gaze darted back to where Kit’s body lay. ‘I know, because I was here.’