“Good evening, sir, I’m Detective Sergeant Colin Woodley from Scotland Yard. How are you this evening? I’ve dropped by for a few minutes. Your nurse, Lucy, says you have something you want to tell me.”
The Colonel’s eyes flickered open. The look in them was of pure relief. His mouth moved, making some unintelligible sounds.
Colin wondered how he was going to cope. It was obvious that the Colonel could hardly speak. And time was running out. He’d promised to take Sadie to the cinema that evening and he didn’t want to be late. She was such fun, such good company. And it was a great film, tipped for an Oscar nomination, they said.
He had an idea. He’d seen it on television.
*
Jake headed out to sea. The Atlantic rollers were easier to ride further out. It was close to the shore that the big waves gave the surfers such a thrill. Holly was beginning to feel quite ill. She wondered if the owner of the cosmetics had any sea-sickness pills. Or perhaps they were both good sailors and had no need of medication.
Holly couldn’t stand for long in the tossing cabin so she sat on the bench, peeling some very old and sprouting potatoes she had found in a bag. She tipped the peelings back into the bag, always so tidy. She wondered if Luke was looking for her. They wouldn’t have any clues. Maybe they’d think she had drowned, caught in a treacherous rip tide. They would be searching for her body, waiting for it to be washed ashore.
She had no idea what she was going to cook for lunch, apart from the potatoes. Maybe inspiration would pop out of a cupboard but she was feeling so sick and faint, it would be a wonder if she even recognized a good idea.
Jake was leaning against the helm, drinking more coffee, watching Holly work. “I’ve thought of a few more things I want you to put in this statement you are going to write for me. You see, I also need to know the numbers on the winning lottery ticket. Such a lot has happened, I’ve forgotten them.”
“Does it matter? It was all such a long time ago.”
“I believe you said something about them all being birthdays. What a stupid way to pick numbers. Everybody does it. But I want to know whose birthdays they were. I want them all written down and itemised just in case I’m asked.”
“Why should anyone ask you?”
“None of your business,” he snapped. He took another gulp of coffee. It was nearly whiskey time. He had a rule about not drinking before mid-day. It made him feel in control.
“Tell me more about your boyfriend, Barry. The bloke with the posh bike. Are you really close?”
“Very close indeed,” said Holly, nodding. This seemed to please Jake. He grinned.
“That might just have saved your life. You see, I was going to tip you overboard once you had written the statement. But now I’ve had a much better idea.”
Jake reached for the whiskey bottle and poured himself a drink. He was breaking his own rule but what did it matter for once? These were exceptional circumstances. And he needed a steady head.
“I’m going to give him a ring, ask how much he’d like to pay to get his girlfriend back, in one piece, or almost in one piece. He’s loaded, isn’t he?”
“Loaded,” said Holly, clutching at a wet straw. “I know he’d pay anything to get me back. He has so much money, he doesn’t know what to do with it.”
Jake laughed. “Then he won’t miss it if a hefty lot comes my way.”
Chapter Nineteen
Holly was relieved when she could see the coastline getting nearer, even though it was rugged and inaccessible. At least it was land of sorts. She might be able to escape onto land but to swim through these rough seas was impossible. She could not imagine Barry surfing such impossible rollers.
She had found a tin of Irish stew and another of mushy peas and put them both into a saucepan. She cooked the potatoes and then mashed them adding butter, pepper and salt. It was some sort of lunch. The mashed potato tasted good. Maybe Jake would invite her to eat. If not, then she would keep some hidden away to eat when he wasn’t looking.
The Greta was jolting over the huge coastal rollers, heading towards land. Holly clamped lids on her saucepans so that she wouldn’t lose her cooking. Then she felt the boat lurched into sand and shudder to a halt. The movement stopped to a gentle rocking. It was a relief. Jake threw over an anchor.
“We’ve made it,” he shouted. “Just what I wanted. No one can spot us here, surrounded by rock, neither from sea or sky. It’s absolutely perfect. Come and see your new lair.”
Holly went onto the deck, so glad to be able to stand straight, to sniff the clear, salt-laden air. She could see nothing, only rocks ahead and around. The speedboat was on a slither of sand, surrounded by a craggy headland.
“This is Culpepper Island,” he said. “It’s completely deserted. No one lives on it. At low tide, you can walk the thirty metres ashore to Bayfield Cove and Ragged Point. But the timing has to be right. Where’s that lunch? I’m starving.”
“It’s ready,” she said.
“I deserve a drink,” he said, talking to himself as he went back into the cabin. “Culpepper Island is a mere dot on the horizon, barely on any map.”
Holly served up the piping hot stew, mushy peas and mashed potatoes. He did not invite her to eat. He scoffed the lot, wiped some bread round the gravy. “Not bad. You are getting better at this cooking lark. Now for the letter, before I go ashore. Sit down.”
Those were the magic words: before I go ashore. He was going ashore. They must be low on fuel. Holly sat down. Her ankles were rubbed sore from the shackles. They hurt even if they were joke ones from a joke shop.
He pushed a pad of paper and a pen towards her. “Write down that you, Holly Gray, willingly gave me a pound to buy a lottery ticket. You asked me to fill in the numbers. The numbers were the birthdays of your family members so I filled them in as you asked. It was an amicable arrangement that if the numbers won, I was entitled to the winnings, the sole winnings.”
Holly swallowed hard. It didn’t matter much anymore, but for some reason Jake was under pressure about this situation. She scratched out the words as he dictated them. “OK, I’ve done that.”
“Now, write down the numbers and put whose birthdays they were. You know, Mum, Dad, grandmother and so on.”
“And the last date was mine,” said Holly. “Remember?”
Jake obviously didn’t remember her birthday.
“So the last one was yours,” he said, pouring himself another whiskey. He was feeling on top of the world. Everything was going to work out. It was all going to plan. Now he only had to phone the loaded Barry Armitage. Where was that business card?
Holly wrote down the birthday dates but made a few slight errors on purpose, a zero for an eight, a five for a three. It was useless really, trying to right a wrong so long ago.
“Come on deck, fox in a hole. I want to talk to your boyfriend.”
They went on deck. Holly soaked in the view and the scent of the sea. It was so refreshing after the stuffy cabin. This was a small rocky island, very rugged, some headland of brush and bush, not very high. Maybe it was twenty metres high. The cove was a mere slither of sand. Further back on land either side she could see distant civilisation. There was a red-roofed house high up on the hill, quite far away. But it was there and it meant people.
Jake was on his phone, shouting above the thrashing of the sea. “Barry Armitage? I need to speak to you directly. Quit asking questions. It doesn’t matter who I am but I have your delectable girlfriend, Holly Gray here, right beside me. Very slim, tall, red-haired. Remember her? Now how much are you going to pay to get her back? Alive, and hopefully in one piece?”
*
Luke and Barry both took the call, sharing the phone. It had been a hard night. Neither had got much sleep. Danielle had eventually gone upstairs, unable to keep her eyes open. She could not believe that her spectacular wedding was going to be postponed all because her bridesmaid had gone missing. It was a cruel turn of fate.
“Who’s
calling?” said Barry. “I want to know who you are.”
“Any more questions and I’ll switch off and you’ll never see Holly again.”
“OK, sure. Hold on, man. I’m listening. Tell me more. You say you have Holly.”
Barry had heard ransom calls before. Olympic sportsmen were often threatened by cranks. It was part of the game.
“Yes, she’s not much of a cook but then it’s difficult to cook when you are handcuffed, ankle and wrist.”
Luke nearly wrenched the phone out of Barry’s hand, but he knew that wouldn’t help Holly’s predicament. It was something to know that she was alive.
“So she’s OK. That’s good. I want to speak to her.”
“No way. I want to know how much you’ll pay to get her back. She’s a valuable piece of goods. She’s my little nest egg for a couple of years till I get back on my feet.”
“How much do you want?”
“I want fifty thousand dollars in used notes and a first class air ticket to New York, and another hundred thousand dollars to be paid into a bank account in New York. I want you to bring the money to me in person, alone. Then I may, or I may not, hand her back to you.”
“Of course I will agree to that,” said Barry. “But it’s a lot of money and I’ll need a few hours to get it together. Then where shall I meet you?”
“Don’t be daft, buster. I’m not telling you that. You’ll be here with half of the Royal Barbados Police Force in tow.”
Luke nodded to Barry. He would help raise the money. He would pay anything to save Holly. Barry was calmer, less emotionally involved.
“But first I must speak to Holly. I must know she is alive and well.”
“No can do.” Jake was smirking. Holly was only a few feet away from him, hugging a T-shirt to herself, her hair a tangled mess.
“No talk, no money.” Barry was adamant, his voice firm.
Jake pulled Holly over, his fingers biting into her arm.
“You talk to lover-boy. You say hello, nothing more. Tell him anything, and I will slice you up.”
Holly nodded, her brain ticking over at a rate of more than knots. She had this one chance to connect with Barry. Luke was there, too, she felt sure.
Jake thrust the mobile against her mouth, bruising her lips.
“Speak,” he snarled. “Speak now.”
“Cool,” she said. Her mouth was dry. “You like?” Then she began to sneeze several times. She held onto the side of the boat, convulsed with a paroxysm of sneezing.
“What’s the matter with her?” Barry shouted.
“She’s got a cold.”
Jake switched off and caught Holly by the hair. “What the hell were you playing at? I told you to say hello and that’s all.”
“Sorry,” said Holly, still coughing. “I couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was the sea-weed. Maybe I’m allergic to sea-weed.”
*
Sadie and Colin enjoyed the film. It had earned its Oscar nomination. She invited him back to the flat for a coffee, nothing more. Sadie was more choosey about her boyfriends these days after the Jake calamity. But Colin was different. There was a solid dependability about him that was endearing. And he was fairly good-looking, tall, brown haired, grey eyes. She liked him and he seemed he liked her.
“Sorry I was a bit late,” he said. “I had to go and see this old chap in St Thomas’s Hospital. It took more time that I thought. He could hardly speak, coming out of a coma or something, in intensive care, been hit on the head.”
“How awful, poor soul.” Sadie was making real coffee from Brazilian grounds. It was a new extravagance. She was catching it from Holly.
“He’d been on a cruise, had this accident and was flown home from Barbados.”
“Holly’s in Barbados. She’s the bridesmaid at her cousin’s wedding. She’s been there a couple of weeks.”
“Lucky Holly. The Colonel was very distressed and disturbed but I had an idea. One arm was in plaster but his other arm looked all right. I gave him a pad of paper and a pen. He caught on immediately. He drew a flight of steps, like a child would draw them. Then he drew a square hanging on a wall with a face in it. I asked him if he meant this to be a portrait or a mirror? He nodded to mirror and then drew a hand.”
Sadie listened intently. She could see the light in Colin’s eyes.
“He had seen a reflection in the mirror, I think. He had caught sight of someone behind him before he fell. I think he was trying to say that he had been pushed.”
“Wow, Colin. That’s amazing. He must have been so pleased that you understood what he was trying to say. What’s going to happen now?”
“I’ve emailed the cruise company and the Royal Barbados Police Force. The Colonel also indicated that his watch, probably a Rolex, was stolen from him. I wondered if they had a record of anyone trying to sell a Rolex. I also asked the cruise company for a list of all male passengers with the initial J. The Colonel kept saying the initial J.”
“You deserve the best coffee in the world for being such a clever detective,” said Sadie. “And some Scottish shortbread biscuits.”
“My favourite,” said Colin, sinking back on the sofa.
“It’s been a lovely evening,” said Sadie, pouring out the coffee. She saw a light winking on her laptop. “Sorry, these damned things. They demand our attention. I’ll have to open it. Could be important.”
She opened the email. It was from someone she did not know. Someone called Luke Kenyon. The name rang a bell, something to do with television. She could hardly believe what she was reading. It was about Holly.
“Holly, it’s about my flatmate Holly. She’s gone missing. Something has happened to her,” said Sadie, looking up, distraught. “Can we do anything? Colin, you’ve got to help me.”
*
Danielle awoke to the morning of her wedding, except that it wasn’t going to be her dream wedding. The room was filled with glorious sunshine, a rainbow of sunbeams reflecting everywhere. Her spectacular white dress hung on the wall, pearls gleaming. The voluminous train was in a box. She threw herself back on the pillows and wept. She was not going to wear it today. Everything had gone wrong.
She knew it was her own fault. The Gods were paying her back for jilting Luke. But she couldn’t help falling in love with a different man. Luke had been the perfect husband in waiting but Barry was the man she loved.
She looked out of the window onto the patio below. The caterers had already arrived, decking everywhere for all the guests that she had invited. But Holly was missing. She had to think of Holly. She had to look as if she was thinking of Holly.
It was difficult since she had never thought of anyone except herself since day one. Even when they were children, playing together, she was always the winner of any game, always the one who caught the most crabs, always the one who got the prize. Holly tagged along, getting her out of trouble.
Lily came in with the tray of morning tea. She looked as if she had been up all night, hollow-eyed and unkempt. Even her apron was creased.
“Is there any news?” Danielle asked.
“No news, Miss Danielle. Miss Holly still missing,” said Lily.
“Run a bath for me, please.”
It took Danielle several hours to present herself to her guests. The hairdresser arrived, totally bewildered by the change of plan, but asked no questions. Danielle wanted simple flowers, no tiara or veil. She had to look suitably distressed.
The patio was a busy scene, the tables exquisitely laid, but not decorated with gold hearts or streamers, no steel band playing. The Hello photographers had been cancelled. Danielle went down the main staircase to meet her guests. Neither Luke nor Barry escorted her down the stairs. She went down alone, her long pale blue gown flowing on each step, the sheer material gossamer and gleaming. She held a few white orchids picked from the garden. She looked ethereal, a princess in a tearful role.
“Hells bells,” said Luke, turning away, a steely glint in his eyes. “Is this turning into a p
antomime?”
“It’s the best Danielle can do,” said Barry, admiring his bride to be. “She’s doing her best. She will learn, in time, to be herself. To stop play acting. I’ll make sure of that.”
There was a short announcement about the postponement of the wedding, but that the reception would go ahead so that no one would be inconvenienced. Everyone was invited to stay and enjoy themselves, which they did. The food and the drink was generous and delicious. They clustered round Danielle, wanting to know why the wedding was being postponed.
“It’s a personal emergency,” she said, wiping away one tear. “I can’t tell you anymore. Please don’t ask me.”
One unkind guest whispered that Danielle had probably broken a tooth and couldn’t get married till she’d seen a dentist.
Luke and Barry mingled with the guests, even though their thoughts were elsewhere. The ransom money was being assembled. The Barbados Police Force had been alerted. They were trawling the Internet.
“We have some news from London,” they emailed but did not say what. “We are looking into it.”
One of the wedding guests came up to Luke. She was an elderly white-haired woman, tanned brown by the sun, living her last arthritic days somewhere warm.
“I saw your friend Holly in Bridgetown, but she’s not here today, is she? Nice young woman, such lovely red hair. She was being followed, I feel sure. Of course, I couldn’t do anything. I have to use a stick and can’t move as fast as I used to.”
Luke took her aside. “Please tell me everything you saw.”
“There was this man who was following her. He was fairly tall with that dodgy streaked blonde hair, wearing a navy blazer, carrying a panama hat. He kept a few yards behind her, stopped when she stopped. He didn’t look nice, had a mean face. I’m really sorry, I can’t tell you anything more.”
Luke lead the woman to a chair, made sure her glass was filled with champagne, called Lily over. “Please look after this guest. She is very special.”
He went back into the empty sitting room and switched on his laptop. He emailed his contact in the Royal Barbados Police Force. “Holly was being followed by Jake Furrows. I have an eye-witness. Her name is Mrs Amelia Grant, lives with the Grant family at Sun Crest. Grandmother, I think.”
Dangerous Shadows Page 19
