Paying the Ferryman Read online

  ‘And what did your mum tell you all that time? Did she say where you were going?’

  ‘Scotland,’ Sarah said. ‘We spent about six months there, somewhere near Aberdeen. I didn’t go to school or anything. Mum and a man called Tony taught me from home. Tony was married to Greta, who owned the house we were living in. He helped with my maths and stuff and they told everyone that Mum was a cousin. She was calling herself Lisanne by then, but I stayed Sarah.’

  ‘And a last name?’

  ‘Kemp. It was Gran’s maiden name. She died when I was really little so I don’t really remember her.’

  ‘And then?’

  Sarah thought about it. ‘Mum got a letter and when she got it she cried a lot, and I was scared at first because I thought all the bad stuff was coming back but then she told me that my dad had been locked up for a very long time and we didn’t have to be scared any more. That we could find somewhere to settle down and be happy.’

  Steel thought about it. That would fit with the length of the trial, more or less. That had lasted nearly seven months in total. ‘And you left after that?’

  ‘We stayed until Christmas and then we packed our stuff and Greta gave us a lift to the station and we left.’ Sarah frowned. ‘It got a bit confused after that. Mum couldn’t seem to decide where she wanted to be and there was a whole load of B and Bs and cheap hotels for a bit, and then she rented a flat and we moved in at Easter.’

  ‘And that was in …?’

  ‘Peterborough. I liked it but Mum hated the one-way system. Anyway, I went to school and she got a job in a shop. It was all right for a while.’

  ‘For a while?’

  ‘Mum found it really hard to settle anywhere. She was always looking over her shoulder, I suppose. I didn’t understand it at the time, but for a while it wasn’t at all like she’d said. We didn’t settle anywhere for long. She’d get a job and we’d find a place to live and then she’d suddenly decide we had to leave again. Then, four years ago, she met Vic and everything changed.’

  ‘And where did she meet him?’

  Sarah bit her lip. She’d been talking quite normally, as though the horror of the past couple of days had somehow receded. Now it returned, forcefully.

  ‘They’re really gone, aren’t they? I mean really, like for ever.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Sarah,’ Steel said. ‘But yes. They really are.’

  For a few minutes they all sat in a silence broken only by Sarah’s tears and Joey’s soothing noises. He talked to her as if she were a little child, Steel noted, hushing and holding and stroking like he would for a baby. It was so at odds with his outburst in the car that Steel was fascinated. He sensed that they were standing at a pivotal moment in two young lives. Joey could be redeemed, or he could turn out like his father – not because he wanted that, but because the dice might just fall that way – and Sarah … what would the future bring for her?

  Had they been just a little older, Steel thought, they’d have been able to help one another through. Two whole, healed young people might emerge. But they were both just kids. Who would, could, ease the path for both of them?

  ‘Do you remember where Lisanne and Victor met?’ he pressed gently.

  ‘It was in Bristol, wasn’t it?’ Joey said. ‘You’d been down there three weeks and your mum had found a part-time job in a café near the docks and it was summertime and there were lots of visitors.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘And he was a customer. But that wasn’t where they met. She’d met him before. Before she knew my dad, I think. She lived down there for a while when she was about nineteen. She’d gone to a festival and stayed on after, found some work at a local hotel. I think that was a happy time and that’s why she wanted to go back.’

  ‘And he just happened to come into the café?’

  ‘He still lived down there. He’d never left.’

  It was still a major coincidence, Steel thought. Though coincidences did happen.

  ‘I liked him a lot, even at the start,’ Sarah said. ‘He was just so kind. Mum fell back in love with him and they got married and then we moved up here.’

  ‘Ferrymouth is a long way from Bristol,’ Steel said. ‘What brought them this far north?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Sarah said. ‘I think he was offered a job. We came up to look around and Mum liked it and so we decided this should be the real fresh start. Mum told me that if we moved here, I’d be leaving friends behind again and that it was like before, I’d just have to forget about them all. I’d kind of got used to doing that. I’d been doing it since I was seven. But I wanted this to be the last time, and Mum said she did too. She promised me, this would be it. If I made friends here, I wouldn’t have to leave them behind.’

  Steel thought about what Sarah had told him. While it was true that casual work and short-term lets were usually available, it sounded the way Sarah told it as though Lisanne had just hopped from place to place and job to job with very little trouble or intervening unemployment. That in itself was odd. Had she moved from place to place with the help of the Winslow Trust? If her last job had been found through their community, then it was obvious they’d not just let her go. They had continued to protect and help her even after the trial and that first move.

  ‘Did Vic know all about her past?’

  Sarah nodded. ‘She told him everything when he asked her to marry him. She told me she was going to, that it was fair, that if he couldn’t cope with it then she and I would just move on again.’

  ‘He knew who your father was?’

  ‘She told him everything.’

  Steel shifted in his seat. Sarah was obviously tired now and he ought to get the boys back to Maggie’s and then catch at least the tail end of the evening briefing.

  ‘Sarah, did you know your mum’s family at all? Anyone we can get in touch with for you?’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘Mum left home and she sort of broke contact, I think. I never really thought about it much. I met my gran once, I think, but I don’t remember. Mum said she died. She didn’t like it when I asked about them and my dad would just yell if he heard me anyway. I don’t know what happened.’

  Steel nodded. ‘Sarah, you seemed really certain that you heard your father’s voice downstairs on the night of the shooting. But we know that’s impossible. We know that your father is still in prison. Do you have any further thoughts about that? Someone you remember from before who sounded like him?’

  She shook her head. ‘It was him,’ she said. ‘I mean, you’re telling me it couldn’t be, but it was him. I was sure of it then and I’m still sure of it now.’

  Steel nodded and then stood, telling Tel and Joey that they really had to leave. They parted reluctantly, Joey holding Sarah’s hand until the very last second. They were quiet as Steel led them through the back way to his car. Steel called Maggie from his mobile and told her that he’d be bringing Tel home and then dropping Joey off.

  He listened. Joey realized that Maggie was objecting to the plan, telling Steel to bring Joey too.

  ‘I’ll see what he wants me to do,’ Steel said. He hung up, then turned around in his seat. ‘Maggie says you’re welcome to have a dinner there,’ he said. ‘I told her I’d ask you.’

  Joey peered between the seats to look at the dashboard clock. It was five fifteen. His dad would still be home.

  ‘Um, I’d like to go home with Tel,’ he said.

  Steel nodded. Joey’s pale face flushed with embarrassment. ‘You and I should have a serious talk,’ Steel said. ‘This can’t go on, Joey. You need someone to help you.’

  ‘Know someone with a twelve bore, do you?’ Joey said bitterly.

  Steel raised an eyebrow and Joey shook his head. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘But I can’t say I don’t mean that.’

  ‘I’d be surprised if you could,’ Steel said quietly. ‘I also know that people like your father are not worth the trouble it would cause if you took that way out. Joey, will you let me help you?’

  �
�Don’t see what you can do,’ Joey said. But Steel could see that he really wanted him to try.

  NINETEEN

  Alec and Sophie Willis had spent much of the day reprising old case files. Naomi had joined them when she returned from the prison. Alec could see she was blazingly angry, but her fury remained contained and secured until Sophie left them to attend the evening briefing over at the church.

  All day the media crowd had increased in number, many coming into the Dog and Gun for lunch, and as Alec and Naomi made their way down to the snug they could hear the evening throng had begun to arrive.

  Douggie intercepted them on the back stairs. ‘I can bring food up to your room if you like. You don’t have to come down to order.’

  ‘Thanks, Douggie, I think that would be a good idea. We’re going to slip out for a quick walk first. I’ve been inside all day and I think we both need a breath of air.’

  Douggie nodded. ‘When you get out of the back yard, turn left and about fifty yards down you’ll see a public footpath; it leads off towards the river. It’s a nice walk even this time of the year.’

  He headed back towards the bar and Alec led Naomi out through the back entrance. It was at times like this that he wished they had brought Napoleon, Naomi’s guide dog, with them, knowing that he gave her so much more a feeling of independence. But originally the idea had been that they’d stay overnight and then head back. Plans had changed and Alec wasn’t sure how long they’d stay now. He’d called their friend Mari, who was looking after Napoleon, and she’d been happy to continue for a few days. Napoleon would be spoilt rotten, Alec thought.

  He spotted the sign for the footpath and warned Naomi that there was a stile and that it would be slippy.

  ‘You’ll be OK in those shoes?’

  ‘I will. I need to walk. If I ruin them I’ll just have to get some more.’

  Alec laughed. ‘Oh, the hardship,’ he said. ‘I can just see a shopping trip with Sam coming on when we get back.’

  ‘Oh yes. All day, so get your babysitting head on.’

  They walked in silence for a few minutes as Alec admired the view and Naomi seethed. Scrubby grassland reached down towards the river. Beyond that more of the same, gradually dropping down and giving way to mud flats. Moored boats heeled over waiting for the tide to return, though he guessed the draught was shallow even at high tide. Wading birds patrolled the shallows and gulls shrieked overhead. It would be dark soon and a damp chill came in from across the water. Their walk would be a short one.

  ‘It’s the arrogance of the man,’ Naomi said. ‘It always was the thing that riled me most. How someone like that could even have a relationship – I mean who’d—?’

  She broke off. ‘Fuck him,’ she said.

  Alec smiled, glad for once that she couldn’t see him. Naomi swore rarely and never did it very convincingly. ‘Did you find out anything useful?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. He was adamant it had nothing to do with him. Not that he was sorry. He just kept referring to them as “that bitch of a wife” and “that whiny child”. You know how with most people, no matter what they are or what they’ve done, you can usually find some tiny glimmer of a redeeming feature? Well, I never could with Terry Baldwin. I can’t even excuse him by saying he’s a sociopath because I don’t believe he is. I don’t think Terry Baldwin is evil or misguided or wrong in the head, I just think he’s a scrote. He enjoys it, thinks it gives him some kind of kudos. Not that he’s got two brain cells capable of talking to one another.’

  She broke off and shivered. ‘It’s cold out here.’

  ‘You want to go back?’

  ‘In a minute or two. I want to get really cold first. I need the pleasure of getting warm again.’

  Alec laughed at her but contented himself with standing at her side as the sky darkened and the chill from the seaward view crawled landward, condensing into a clinging, warmth-sapping mist.

  ‘I’m cold enough, now,’ she said.

  ‘I’m glad about that. I’m hungry too. What do you think of Steel?’ he asked as they turned back along the path. He was glad to be able to see the lights from the pub up ahead. It was getting truly, country dark and he’d neglected to bring a torch with him.

  ‘I like him. He’s funny and intelligent and cares about the job. I like Sophie too. Do you think anyone ever gets to use his first name?’

  ‘What, “Man of”? No. Actually, I don’t think he has one. Did you think Terry Baldwin was telling the truth?’

  ‘I don’t think Terry Baldwin would recognize the truth if it came and bit his face off,’ she said bitterly. ‘But unfortunately, I suspect he was this time. I’ve been rerunning the original interviews in my head. I can’t read him in the same way now. I can’t see him to do that, but I can remember his voice from before. I got so I could recognize when he was skirting round the truth and when he was out and out lying, and though it’s harder now I can’t see his face or read his body language, I can still hear the changes in his voice. I don’t think he arranged the hit.’

  ‘If you’re right that puts everything back to square one.’

  ‘It does, sort of. Not arranging it doesn’t mean he didn’t know about it and I’m not so certain on that score. But there’s something else, and I don’t know quite what it was that made me think it. Steel asked him about Vic Griffin and he just said he’d never heard of him. Then Steel showed him a photograph and there was just a moment – just that little hesitation, I suppose – that made me think he recognized the face.’

  ‘You mentioned this to Steel?’

  ‘Of course. Thing is, he’d picked up on it too. If that’s so then it puts quite a different spin on things, doesn’t it?’

  TWENTY

  Steel had been in two minds about where to hold the twice daily briefings. One sort of logic said he should call everyone back to headquarters and do it there. The other logic said that doing that meant an hour lost in travelling each way. Instead, he decided it would be far more practical to keep everything in the school house next to the church. Those few officers who might have been sent elsewhere could either check in by phone or be caught up with separately.

  About fifty officers of assorted ranks and from various rural headquarters crowded into what had been the main hall. Joining them were local civilians who had been acting as liaison for Steel. He knew this was a move frowned on in some quarters but Steel had grown up locally, he knew the power of the vicars, the doctors, the established traders. They knew everyone, noticed everything and would be far more effective at organizing community efforts than any police officer, and so he had decided to include them in the evening briefing. They stood apart from their police colleagues, a little nervous, uncertain of what was expected or even their right to be there.

  Steel thanked everyone for attending and for the day’s efforts. ‘The good news,’ he said, ‘is that Sarah Griffin is recovering well, physically at least. We still have nothing new on family, but I was able to take some of her friends in to see her today. I hoped she’d be able to talk to me more freely if she had familiar faces around and I have, as a result, gained a few more pieces of information.’

  Steel explained that when Thea Baldwin had decided to testify against her husband she had been given a new identity and moved around a good deal. He deliberately didn’t mention the Winslow Trust. He had spotted Doctor Eric Pauley, one of his chosen local representatives, standing at the back of the hall and decided that a private word, later on, would be a better policy.

  ‘We know that Mrs Griffin took her mother’s maiden name for a while and lived as Lisanne Kemp. We know that she and Victor Griffin had originally met when she lived in the Bristol area in her late teens. The relationship seems to have ended then, but she met Mr Griffin, by chance it would seem, when she and her daughter moved to Bristol about four years ago. Their relationship was rekindled. Their previous friendship may or may not be significant. Sarah assumed that their meeting was by chance, but it is
possible that contact was made earlier. Again, that may be significant; as yet, we have no idea what led to their deaths and that of baby Jack, and we’ve got to keep all options open.’

  He glanced at Willis and then continued. ‘I visited Terry Baldwin in prison this morning. He denies any knowledge of the attack on his ex wife and her family but we are continuing to view his possible involvement as an important line of inquiry. Now, I know some of you have information to add, so,’ he smiled wryly, ‘if you’d like to form an orderly queue …’

  He moved back to stand beside Willis while results of house- to-house enquiries, further searches of the fields and generalized bits and pieces of gossip and hearsay were shared with the group. Steel knew from experience that even what passed for tittle tattle could be significant, especially if it surfaced more than once. He encouraged his civilian helpers to have their say too but it soon became obvious that there was little of significance. To Steel’s mind only two things really stood out.

  PC Divers, a very young officer, spotty faced and sporting something that might one day grow into a moustache, took his place on the platform.

  ‘I finally managed to have a proper talk to the old lady next door. Mrs Ball. She was still really upset but she told me a couple of things. One was that the Griffins had more visitors than usual in the ten days or so before they got shot. Two men, she said. Sometimes together and sometimes singly, but the same two men. She thinks they called about half a dozen times in all. At first she thought they were selling something and expected them to knock on her door, but they didn’t.’