by Tim O'Rourke
Tom glanced at me, then back at Took. “Then what happened?”
“It was very cold and Melinda decided that she didn’t want to walk, so we drove down to the cliffs in my car,” Took continued. “We found a spot which gave us a beautiful view of the rising sun. It was as we sat together, I realised what a fool I had been and how badly I had treated Melinda. So I took her in my arms and kissed her. To my deep joy, she kissed me back and I knew I had not yet lost her. It was then I saw you both stroll past. Melinda was a little embarrassed at being discovered kissing in the car like a couple of teenagers. So we waited for you to pass, then climbed from the car and went and stood on the cliff edge. From that vantage point we watched the sun fully rise. But as we turned to leave, Melinda lost her footing on a loose piece of rock. I grabbed for her, but I was too late, it was like she had suddenly vanished before my very eyes. Peering over the edge of the cliff, I watched Melinda bounce off the jagged rocks, then disappear beneath the crashing waves. I screamed out her name until my throat felt raw. But it was no good. She had gone, swallowed up by the sea.”
I looked at him, tears spilling onto his cheeks. “Why not call for help before now?” I asked him.
“I tried,” he said, pulling his phone from his coat pocket. “But the damn battery is flat.”
Tom took the phone from him and inspected it. Handing it back to Mr. Took, Tom looked at me and said, “It’s dead.”
I stared at Took. “Why has it taken you so long to get back here? We passed where you had been parked and your car had gone. We were on foot, yet we got back here quicker than you.”
“I drove further along the coast, hoping that I might be able to see her,” Mr. Took said.
“And you didn’t think to stop and ask for help?” Tom cut in. “You didn’t stop at a public pay phone?”
“There is no one about in such a remote place and so early,” Took said. “And there were no public phones, not that I came across. Look, what is going on here? Why are you asking me all these questions instead of trying to help me and Melinda?”
“The police are on their way,” the innkeeper said, stepping away from the bar. “But they could be a couple of hours yet.”
“Two hours!” Took snapped, springing to his feet.
“There is no longer a police station in Ripper Falls,” the innkeeper said. “Got closed down due to cutbacks, what, with the credit crunch. The nearest police station is in the village of Snakeweed, but that’s not manned twenty-four hours and the first copper doesn’t book on duty until nine this morning.”
I glanced down at my watch. There was still an hour and a half before that happened. Then it was a good hour’s drive from Snakeweed to Ripper Falls, even on blues and twos.
“This is outrageous,” Took barked. “What about the coast guard?”
“They’re just volunteers. Like I said, cutbacks,” the innkeeper grunted. “The emergency operator is going to try and scramble some together.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Took said, slumping down into his chair again. “Somebody has got to do something to help my Melinda.”
I slid my hand into the back pocket of my jeans and reached for my police badge. I couldn’t stand by and not help this man, despite what I thought of him. Tom rested his hand on my arm before I’d the chance to take out my badge.
“You wait here for the police, while me and my friend go back to the cliffs and search for you wife,” Tom said. “Should we see the coast guard, at least we will be able to point out the place where you had parked and where you say your wife fell from the cliff edge.”
“Thank you,” the man said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Taking me by the arm, Tom led me from the inn. Once outside, I said, “Why didn’t you want me to show him my badge?”
“Because in an hour or two, this place is going to be crawling with coppers,” Tom said. “And if Phillips…”
“I don’t think we can afford to worry about what Phillips might think at a time like this,” I said. “Melinda Took could be dead.”
“Whether Mr. Took knows we’re cops or not, it doesn’t change anything,” Tom said, heading across the grassy scrubland and back toward the cliffs. “There is only so much we can do to help until the police and the coast guard arrive.”
Tom started to run and I matched his speed. With the wind screaming up off the sea, we reached the coastal path. We headed in the direction we had seen the car. Even though we ran at a pace, I kept my eyes cast down at the ground.
“That’s where the Tooks were kissing in their car,” Tom said, pointing into the distance. We raced toward it.
Reaching the spot on the sand dunes, I looked at Tom and said, “You go and check out the cliff edge and I’ll see what I can find where the car had been parked.”
“Melinda Took didn’t fall out of the car,” Tom said. “She fell over the cliff.”
“I just want to take a look,” I said, turning away.
Tom
While Kiera headed toward the spot where Mr. Took had earlier parked his car, I went to the cliff edge. The wind flapped my coattails about my legs and I pulled my coat tight. Teetering on the cliff edge, I peered over. I half expected to see the remains of Melinda Took’s body dashed against the black rocks, but there was no sign of her. Mr. Took seemed to be right; the writhing black waves had taken her – as if swallowing her whole. Leaning out over the edge as much as I dared in the nagging wind, I strained to see in both directions along the coast. All I could see was the black and grey jagged rocks. They rose out of the sea like a series of spikes. Anyone who had fallen over the edge would either be impaled on them, or dragged beneath the churning waves of the sea that crashed against them. I feared in my heart that Melinda Took would never be seen alive again. Her death seemed even the more tragic due to the fact that she had, in the moments before dying, patched up her failing marriage. I guessed that the last few months of her life had been unhappy ones, thanks to her husband. I could never imagine myself hurting the person I loved the most in life. But then perhaps Kiera had been right about that too. Kiera had said the night before in the bar as we ate that she could see Melinda loved her husband, but he no longer loved her.
With any hope I might have had in my heart that Melinda Took might yet still be alive fading, I turned in search of Kiera. I stepped away from the cliff edge to find her bent low over the sandy patch of ground where Mr. Took’s car had been parked. To watch her was like watching a bloodhound that had found a scent that it refused to let go of. It really was a marvel to watch Kiera at work. It was like I was no longer here. Somehow, Kiera had stepped into a different zone where she could hone in on the clues, tracks, and marks left behind by those who had gone before her. On her hands and knees, she would suddenly see something ahead and spring to her feet. She would drop flat on the ground, where she would inspect in the minutest detail the marks left in the sand. Then, as if charged with electricity, Kiera would jump to her feet again, stooped forward, hands clasped behind her back. I watched from afar as she peered down at the ground, her eyes fleeting left then right. Once more, she would drop face-first into the sand, her nose just inches from the ground as she made her inspection.
As I watched Kiera work, it was like I wasn’t even there. I felt as if I had disappeared and all that mattered to her were the clues she searched for. Thrusting my hands into my pockets, I knew that love and romance wasn’t ever going to be Kiera’s real passion. Solving mysteries is what she loved.
Kiera
While Tom searched for any signs of Melinda, I hunkered down and stared at the sandy path that led to the spot where the car had been parked. “Be careful where you step,” I yelled back at Tom.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go over the edge,” he hollered back.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said. “Don’t step on any footprints. I can already see that they will be important in solving this mystery.”
Crouching low, I inched my way forward on my hands and knees. When I saw s
omething I thought was suggestive, I stopped and let my fingers brush gently over the sand. I moved slowly forward again. I could see the tyre tracks left behind by the car. There was so much for me to see. It was fantastic. With an excited smile forming at the corners of my mouth, I carried out my inspection of the flat sandy patch of ground where Mr. Took had parked his car. When I had seen enough, I stood and span around. Stooping forward, I retraced the ground I had already inspected and headed toward the cliff edge where Tom was standing. I dropped to the ground so I lay on my front, the tip of my nose almost touching the sand.
“What can you see, Kiera?” Tom asked.
“Shhh,” I whispered, letting my fingers glide over a footprint that had been left behind by Took.
Ignoring me, Tom said, “There is no sign of Melinda.”
“I doubt very much we will ever see her again,” I muttered. When I had seen enough, I sprang to my feet, brushing sand from the front of my coat, then my hands. I looked at Tom.
He matched my stare. “What have you seen?”
“I believe Mr. Took murdered his wife,” I said.
“But we saw them kissing, they looked happy enough,” Tom reminded me.
“Mr. Took lied to her when he said he was sorry for the mistake he had made,” I started to explain. “I suspect he told her that to coax her out to this remote spot. Here he kissed her, told her he loved her. Lulled her into a false sense of security. After we had passed by, I think he murdered her.”
“How?” Tom asked.
“Strangulation, perhaps,” I said. “It’s the only sure way of her not crying out. He would have feared we might have heard her. And there aren’t any signs of blood. If he had wounded her, then there is every chance that a trail of blood would’ve been left as he carried her from the car and threw her body over the edge of the cliff into the sea.”
“Hang on a minute, Kiera,” Tom said, raising one hand. “How do you know he carried her from the car and threw her over the cliff? You make it sound like you were here when it happened.”
“Let me show you what I’ve seen,” I told Tom, heading back towards where Mr. Took’s car had been parked. Kneeling again, I pointed down at the sand. “Here are the tyre tracks where the car was parked. See here and here. This is where Mr. Took climbed from his car. The footprints are far too big to be that of a woman’s. These would suggest a size ten or eleven shoe. But there are only one set of tracks. Where are Mrs. Took’s footprints? There aren’t any,” I explained. Then, placing my finger into the footprints leading away from the car, I continued. “These prints are deeper than those coming back from the cliff edge. This suggests that Mr. Took was heavier on his way to the cliff than he was when he made his way back to the car. Did he suddenly lose some weight? No, he was carrying something. It was Melinda Took’s lifeless body that weighed him down.”
“But…” Tom started.
“And look at the return footprints,” I said, brushing my fingertips over them. “Mr. Took walked back to the car. Wouldn’t he have run? He said himself he was panicked by his wife falling over the edge of the cliff. He said that he was desperate to find help.”
“How do you know he walked back to the car?” Tom asked, squinting down at the footprints I was pointing to.
“The distance between them is the same as when he walked away from the car,” I explained. “He hadn’t run; the distance between each footprint would be bigger. Not only that, the front of the shoe would have made a greater impression in the sand than the heel. Even when he got back into the car, Mr. Took didn’t rush to get help.”
“There are no skid marks in the sand, or any signs that he hurriedly made a three-point turn,” Tom said, looking down at the tyre tracks. “He slowly reversed back toward the road.”
“Exactly!” I beamed. “Are they the actions of a man who has just seen his wife fall over the edge of a cliff and into the sea?”
“But we can’t prove any of this, Kiera,” Tom said, looking down at the footprints, then back at me. “It’s all circumstantial. And by the time the police arrive, these tracks will be long gone, blown away or filled in with fresh sand.”
I glanced down at my watch. “We still have about an hour before the police get all the way out to the inn from Snakeweed. Let’s go back and tell Mr. Took what we’ve discovered. Let’s see what he has to say to that. We might yet find a more substantial clue to prove his guilt.”
Side by side, we raced across the scrubland and back toward the inn.
Pushing open the door, we hurried inside. Took was still seated at the table where we had left him. The innkeeper paced back and forth while the young waitress supplied Took with fresh tea. No sooner had we stepped into the inn, than the three of them glanced up at us.
“Well?” Took said. “Have you found my Melinda?”
“No,” Tom said, stepping toward him.
I stood next to Tom and looked down at Took.
“Melinda didn’t fall over the edge of the cliff, did she, Mr. Took?” I said.
“What do you mean?” he gasped.
“You threw her dead body over the cliff and into the sea.”
The young waitress let out a gasp and covered her mouth with her hands. The innkeeper stopped pacing and stood stock still.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Took said, his eyes narrowing as he got up from his chair.
“No joke,” Tom said, pushing Took back down into his seat.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” I said, never taking my eyes off him. “You rowed with your wife last night because you’ve been having an affair. During the night you tried to convince her that you were sorry and it was her you loved. Before sunrise, and while the rest of us slept, you coaxed her down to the cliffs on the pretext that you wanted to watch the sunrise with her. You kissed her, told her that you loved her, so that she trusted you. We saw you. At first this might have given you cause to panic, but then you saw us stumbling across you as a good thing. You had two independent witnesses who would state you and your wife were very much in love before she died – so why would you have killed her? Once we had passed, you strangled your wife because you knew she would never give you a divorce. She would always be a thorn in your side.”
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this…” Mr. Took said, getting up from his chair again.
Tom pushed him back into it.
“Once you had throttled the life from her, you carried your wife from the car, then threw her body over the cliff edge and into the sea. Then, Mr. Took, you casually walked back to your car. I suspect the reason why you took so long to get back here wasn’t because you went in search of her further down the coast, but because you needed to get your thoughts together – get into character – before you came bursting into the inn telling us that your wife had fallen to her death,” I said.
Mr. Took looked at me and I couldn’t help but notice a sudden spark of fear in his eyes. “I don’t know what you think you’ve seen down at the cliffs,” he tried to bluster, “but this is all just a fantasy you’ve created.”
Ignoring him, I looked at Tom. “I was wrong last night.”
“About what?” Tom asked me with a frown.
“Mr. Took didn’t bring his wife all the way out here because he didn’t want to spend any money on her,” I said. “He brought his wife out to this remote spot because he always intended to murder her here. I suspect he knew that it would take some considerable time for the police to get here. That would give plenty of time for Melinda’s body to drift far out to sea and perhaps never to be found…”
“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” Mr. Took suddenly sneered.
I looked back at him and he wore a hateful and contemptuous leer on his face. The true monster was revealing himself.
“I think me and my friend have you all figured out, Mr .Took,” I said.
“And even if you have,” Took suddenly grinned. “How will you ever prove it? You’re just guessing.”
I knew To
ok had murdered his wife, but I just couldn’t prove it and that drove me half-crazy with frustration, and he knew it. There was something missing and I just couldn’t see it. I looked away from him, his smug expression was starting to anger me.
“And I bet it was you who smashed into my car this morning,” Tom said. “Who else could it have been? Yours was the only other car parked here.”
“Where was your car parked?” The innkeeper suddenly asked.
“Right out front,” Tom said.
“That’s a real pity,” the innkeeper said. “I don’t have CCTV out the front. But I’ve got a camera out back. Had to have it fitted for insurance. Been burgled a few years back. It’s only a small little camera. You’d never know it was there. I’ve got it concealed so I could catch the little buggers who broke in…”
“Shhh!” I said, raising my hand and going to the window. I looked out at the small car park at the front. It was then I realised what it was I hadn’t been seeing. Where was Mr. Took’s bright red sports car?
“Where is your car, Mr .Took?” I said, spinning around to look at him.
“Parked out back, of course,” he sneered. “You don’t think I would park a classic like that out front for all to see. It would get stol…” Then as if realising his mistake, he suddenly clamped his mouth shut.
“Show me this CCTV,” I said to the innkeeper.
“Follow me,” he grunted. “I never bother to check it. I’d only ever take a look if anyone broke in again.”
He led the way around the other side of the bar. There was a small monitor, which was off. The innkeeper switched it on and the screen flickered into life. I could now see the small parking area concealed at the back of the inn. Mr. Took’s red sports car was parked there.
“Can you take the picture back?” I asked the innkeeper.
“Sure,” he said, pressing the rewind button on a small DVD player tucked beneath the monitor. I glanced up and over the bar. Tom was still standing next to Took as he sat in the chair, his face now drained of all colour. The young waitress stood by the door to the inn.
