The Lantern Men

by Elly Griffiths

  Laura grabs a drink from the stand and then is on her way, waving to Judy as she passes. Judy, too, is very fond of Nelson’s eldest daughter, especially after all they went through three years ago. Cathbad says that Laura is a strong soul, a ‘warrior’, but she always seems rather fragile to Judy. Mind you, Laura seems to cope with being a primary school teacher, which surely must mean that there’s a warrior, or a saint, in there somewhere.

  Judy waits until Leonard Jenkins passes. He’s not far behind, which is impressive considering that he must be at least twenty-five years older than Laura. He looks intense, wearing a red bandana and a sporty version of his black-rimmed spectacles, frowning at the road ahead.

  ‘Go on, Len!’ Judy looks in the direction of the shout and sees Ailsa Britain waving her silk scarf in the air as if she’s at Ascot. Her voice is surprisingly strong. Next to her Crissy Martin laughs and says something to Leonard’s husband, Miles. What does he think about Leonard’s ex-wife cheering him on in this way? She scans the riders for John Robertson but she can’t pick him out of the lycra-clad throng. It makes her feel rather twitchy to think that so many of the Grey Walls set are here today. What a cast list, she’d said to Nelson when he told her about the barbecue on the beach. Well, almost the same people are here today. Except Jenny McGuire and Heidi Lucas, of course.

  Michael is standing with Judy. He has his Polaroid camera, a new obsession, and is busy taking paparazzi-like shots of the race. Cathbad has gone to the ice-cream van with Miranda. It’s not Miranda’s idea of fun, watching adults on bikes, and she’s made it clear that she can only be recompensed by regular infusions of E numbers.

  Judy is just going to join them – she feels a sudden urge for a 99 – when a voice says, ‘You’re nicked.’

  Judy spins round and then a smile spreads slowly across her face.

  ‘Hallo, Cloughie,’ she says.

  *

  George is growing restless so Michelle takes him to look at the boats in Wells Harbour. Nelson waits for the first group of riders to appear. He’s pretty sure that Laura will be up with the leaders. She’s always been competitive in sport. In other things too but she often disguises this by pretending she doesn’t care who wins at Monopoly or does the best in exams. This used to drive Rebecca mad.

  The riders appear around the corner, the sea on one side, flint-fronted cottages – one of them Cathbad and Judy’s – on the other. Nelson strains his eyes for Laura’s pink top. Maybe she’s fallen behind. This is her first race, after all. The first group whizzes past, spokes gleaming in the sunlight. Nelson waits, not very patiently, for the second wave. Here they are, with Leonard Jenkins, wearing a ridiculous red bandana, out in front. The third group passes, then the fourth, then the people who are just there for a day out, breathless but still game.

  Nelson is left staring at the empty road, barriers at each side, the sea sparkling away as if it hasn’t a care in the world.

  Laura has vanished.

  Chapter 29

  Ruth ends up driving to Cley on her own. They brought two cars in case Frank wanted to leave early but Kate seemed tired after their visit to the beach and Frank offered to drive them both home.

  ‘Thanks, Frank,’ says Ruth. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Sure I’m sure,’ says Frank. ‘I know you want to see the end of the race.’ Is this said with a slight edge? Ruth decides to let it go. She does want to see the end of the race but she knows, and she knows Frank knows, that she also wants to see Nelson. When is this going to end, this desperation to see him and the subsequent despair when she does? She had hoped that it would end with the move to Cambridge but, although that had helped for a time, working together on this case has brought all those feelings back, as painful and inconvenient as ever. She thinks of Dr Kahn. Is there anything else that might be worrying you? Nelson had looked so happy with Michelle and George, the perfect family, toddler in their arms, watching their adult daughter taking part in a healthy outdoor activity. Ruth could never be a wife in skinny jeans, sunglasses on top of her head, perfectly dressed for every occasion. If she and Nelson were together they’d probably argue all the time and she’d turn up at work functions covered in mud from a dig. But Nelson once said that he wanted them to be together. Is that what Ruth wants? But she can’t ask herself that question any more.

  It’s even more humid when she arrives in Cley. She almost thinks that she can smell thunder in the air, hot and metallic. The visitor centre is a modern building that looks at home in the landscape, its curving lines following the hillside, grass growing on the roof. It’s meant to be eco-friendly and has its own wind turbine, totally still today. The road had been closed for the race but most of the spectators haven’t arrived yet, they’re probably still at Stiffkey or Blakeney. There are just a few officials in Lynn Wheels T-shirts setting out the water bottles and energy snacks on trestle tables. There is also a banner that says ‘Finish Line’. In twenty minutes or so the leaders, hopefully including Laura, will cross that line, tired but happy, toasting their success with jelly beans.

  Ruth parks her car and goes to visit the grave of four airmen who crash-landed here in 2014. The four Americans chose to bring their helicopter down in this deserted location rather than endanger life. It’s a regular pilgrimage spot for Ruth and Kate. Kate likes to pick flowers and put them on the granite slab dedicated to the tragically named ‘Jolly 22’. Ruth picks a few daisies and scatters them on the faces of the smiling pilots, one carrying his child. ‘Rest in peace,’ she says, as she always does. Then she looks out over the marshes. There’s a path in front of her, gate firmly closed, with a note saying, ‘No Entry. Sensitive Wildlife.’ Ruth thinks she knows how the wildlife feels.

  The sky is now electric blue and the grass a strange luminous yellow. Here and there Ruth can see stretches of water, the same unearthly blue as the sky. They are not far from the Jolly Boatman pub, not far from the place where the last poor girl was found, Heidi Lucas. Ruth thinks about the bodies that she excavated. Has she discovered an oversight in Phil’s initial findings? She confided as much to Crissy Martin and now she is worried about having done so. She should really have told Nelson first but she wanted to be sure.

  Her phone buzzes. Is it Nelson, who often seems to know when she’s thinking about him? Telepathy, Cathbad would say, but maybe she just thinks about him all the time?

  It’s not Nelson, it’s a text from Laura.

  Got a puncture and can’t reach Dad. Can u help? I’m at the car park on the Saltmarsh. Near your old cottage X

  *

  Nelson is on the phone to Judy immediately.

  ‘Did you see Laura?’

  ‘Yes, she was one of the leaders. Doing really well.’

  ‘She hasn’t arrived at Wells.’

  ‘Well maybe she had a puncture or something.’

  ‘Maybe. I’ll call her now. Can you drive along the route to see if she’s by the side of the road somewhere?’

  ‘OK, boss. Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be fine.’

  Nelson stands in the middle of the road to call his daughter. Her phone goes immediately to voicemail. He leaves a message, trying to sound jaunty rather than worried. ‘Where have you got to, love?’ He presses send and turns round to see Michelle approaching, carrying George, who looks tired and cross and sticky.

  ‘Where’s Laura?’ says Michelle, depositing George in Nelson’s arms. ‘Did I miss her?’

  ‘She didn’t finish,’ says Nelson.

  ‘Oh dear,’ says Michelle, ‘and she was doing so well.’ She seems to be thinking only of the sporting disappointment whereas Nelson is consumed by a darker fear. He thinks of Jenny McGuire’s story. How did it go? She had the strangest desire to follow the marsh light . . . even though the path might lead to her death. Had Laura seen the lights of the lantern men? Were they, even now, leading her to her doom? He tells himself to calm down, to get a grip. Te
n to one Laura has had a puncture or fallen off her bike. Dangerous things, bicycles. He’s always been wary of them, seeing them as middle-class and smug. No one cycled in Blackpool in the seventies. He thinks of all the people he has seen on bikes recently: Ailsa Britain, John Robertson, Leonard Jenkins . . .

  ‘Harry!’ He realises that Michelle has been talking to him for some time.

  ‘Sorry, love.’

  ‘I was saying why don’t you track Laura’s phone? You can do it on Find My Phone.’

  Nelson has always been vague about technology. Super Jo is threatening to send him on a course called ‘IT for Older Officers’. He knows, of course, that mobiles can track location. They use it on half their cases these days. But he never bothers much with his own private phone. Michelle is much better at this sort of thing and recently she has linked all their family mobiles so that they can share calendars and photos. Or they could if Nelson knew where to look. Michelle takes his phone from him, manipulating it like a young person, using only her thumb.

  ‘There you are,’ she says. ‘There’s Laura’s phone.’ She shows him a map with a glowing icon at the centre of it. Nelson swipes, impatiently and clumsily, to make the picture bigger. Sea on one side, houses on the other.

  ‘She’s not far away,’ he says. ‘She’s on the coast road.’ He starts walking, still carrying George.

  ‘Harry,’ says Michelle, ‘get the car. We’ll need to put the bike in the back. And George is tired.’ Nelson looks down at his son, whose head is lolling.

  ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘The car. I’ll get it. You wait here.’

  He hands George over and Michelle sinks resignedly to the side of the road, her sleepy child in her arms.

  *

  ‘The boss is panicking,’ says Judy.

  ‘Nothing changes,’ says Clough. He’s looking very pleased with himself, thinks Judy. Slimmer, fitter, wearing clothes that are only slightly too young for him. Promotion obviously agrees with Clough. Maybe she should try it. She’s a DI too, of course, but Clough is now in charge of his own team. She must start to think seriously about moving.

  ‘Nelson wants me to drive along the route to see if Laura’s fallen off her bike,’ she says.

  ‘Aren’t the roads closed to traffic?’

  ‘Do you think the boss cares about that?’

  Clough laughs. ‘You’re right. Shall we go in my car? Cathbad might want to take the kids home.’

  Judy looks over to where Cathbad is sitting on a wall with Michael and Miranda, all three of them eating ice creams. Judy never did get her 99.

  ‘You’re right,’ she says. She walks over to Cathbad and explains the situation. He says that he’ll drive the children home.

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ says Judy. ‘Laura has probably just had a puncture.’

  ‘She’s a strong soul,’ says Cathbad, ‘but I think you’re right to be careful.’

  Judy turns back to Clough.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘The dream team back together,’ says Clough. ‘Starsky and Hutch.’

  ‘Cagney and Lacey,’ says Judy. But she can’t help smiling as they get into Clough’s testosterone-charged car.

  *

  Ruth texts back, On my way. Then she texts Frank. Laura has puncture. Near Saltmarsh. Going to get her. See u later x.

  The air is now so heavy that she feels as though she’s swimming through it. Nevertheless, she’s happy to think that she can help Laura and happy to be driving towards the Saltmarsh. Near your cottage, Laura says. It’s empty now and Ruth has the keys. At least she thinks she has. She rummages in her organiser handbag, which actually seems to make things harder to find, hiding them in secret zippered compartments. Eventually her hand closes on her cat keyring. She puts the keys in the pocket of her jeans. Maybe they can call in? Suddenly she has such a longing for her old home that it almost takes her breath away. Her book-lined sitting room, her bedroom with its view of the sea, the blue garden gate leading to the path through the wild grass. She gets in her car and sends a quick further text to Laura.

  Won’t be long xx.

  Chapter 30

  Nelson is driving too fast and Michelle tells him to slow down. ‘We won’t see Laura if you go so quickly.’ She has Laura’s location on her phone now and is studying it intently. George is asleep in the back seat.

  ‘Here it is!’ she says suddenly. Nelson screeches to a halt. They are halfway between Wells and Burnham. On their left is a high hedge, on their right the sand stretches away and the sea is a blue line against the horizon.

  ‘We’re near Holkham beach,’ says Michelle. It was a favourite place when the girls were young.

  ‘Let’s see.’ Nelson takes the phone. ‘It says she’s here,’ he says, ‘right here.’ The phone icon is vibrating urgently as if it senses his frustration. Nelson gets out of the car. There are a few people on the beach, trekking home across the sand with deckchairs, buckets and spades. But, other than that, the road is deserted, still closed off for the race. The tarmac shimmers and Nelson realises that it’s very hot. As he watches a car appears on the horizon, a black jeep that looks somehow sinister until he recognises the driver.

  ‘Cloughie!’ The car stops and Nelson strides towards it. Clough opens the door and jumps down. Judy follows.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ says Nelson.

  ‘Came to watch the race. Thought Judy might need a hand.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ says Judy. ‘But it was good to see you. Your driving hasn’t improved though.’ She turns to Nelson, ‘Any sign of Laura?’

  ‘No,’ says Nelson. ‘But this app thing says she’s here.’

  Judy takes the phone and walks towards the side of the road. Suddenly she gives an exclamation and bends down to pick up something that is lying in the shallow ditch alongside the grass verge.

  ‘What is it?’ says Nelson.

  Judy holds up a shiny black rectangle.

  ‘I think it’s Laura’s phone.’

  *

  Ruth has trouble getting to the Saltmarsh because the coast road is still closed for the race. She has to take a circuitous route that leads her back inland where she ends up getting stuck behind a tractor for what seems like hours. She hopes that Laura isn’t getting worried but she doesn’t like to stop to text again. Eventually she manages to overtake the tractor and then she’s on her way, passing landmarks so familiar that they seem like friends: the boarded-up pub, the caravan park, the strawberry picking sign, the field where a donkey and goat seem to co-exist happily, the house with a mural of Rupert Bear.

  Now she is driving over the Saltmarsh, the road that she took every day for more than ten years. Even now it’s hard to believe that she isn’t driving back from a hard day at UNN, looking forward to relaxing with Kate and Flint and listening to The Archers. The light is still very strange – now the sky has a yellowish tinge and every reed in the reedbeds looks as if it is outlined in ink. She has the air-conditioning on in the car – she gets so hot these days – but she can tell that, outside, the temperature is rising.

  To get to the car park she actually has to drive past her cottage. There are the three white houses, close together, that they saw from the beach earlier. Bob Woonunga is away, enjoying an Australian winter, but she can see Sam and Ed’s car outside their house. Sam and Ed are weekenders. In the fifteen years since they’ve lived on the Saltmarsh, Ruth has probably seen them as many times. She has avoided many invitations to barbecues and ‘kitchen sups’ and, barring one memorable New Year’s Eve, has been able to find reason not to attend their parties. But now she feels an unexpected surge of affection for the couple who have, it’s true, only ever been extremely nice to her. They have been coming to Norfolk since their children were small, they must love the place. Ruth suddenly wishes that she could call in and drink coffee with Sam in the kitchen which is exactly like Ruth�
��s, only a hundred times classier. But Ruth has to rescue Laura first.

  She drives slowly past her blue gate. Her tenants haven’t mowed the lawn and the grass reaches as high as the ground-floor windows. Flint would love lurking there, waiting for unsuspecting wildlife to wander into his waiting jaws. He has his own cat gym in Cambridge, a two-storey structure of wood and sisal, bought by Ruth in a frenzy of guilt, but he has never played in it. He likes the sights and smells of the Saltmarsh. So do I, thinks Ruth. She realises that she is very nearly crying.

  The car park is almost empty. It’s late now, almost eight, and this part of the marshes is not on the tourist trail. There’s just one old car without its wheels and, leaning up against the sign describing the birds and telling you not to drop litter, a bicycle. Is that Laura’s? It looks vaguely familiar. Ruth parks by the car and gets out.

  ‘Laura?’ she calls.

  Close by, a flock of birds rises up out of the undergrowth, calling loudly and angrily. Ruth jumps. She walks around the car park although there’s nowhere that anyone could hide. Hide. A few feet away is a wooden hide, a hut used by birdwatchers. It’s raised on stilts and camouflaged so that it blends into the landscape. Is that where Laura is? Ruth has reasons of her own for not wanting to approach the hide but she can’t think what else to do.

  As she sets out along the gravel path, she hears the first, ominous, rumble of thunder.

  *

  Nelson stares at the phone. The screen is dark, a web of cracks spread across it. He pokes at it hopefully but nothing happens. He goes back to his car where Michelle is sitting in the passenger seat, unwilling to leave George.

  ‘What’s happening, Harry? Is that her phone? Where’s Laura?’