Cold Justice

by Lee Weeks

  ‘You always see eye-to-eye?’

  ‘Not always. But we wouldn’t be family if we did.’ Marky made eye contact with Carter but couldn’t hold it. He began to sniff loudly as he polished.

  Carter laughed. ‘Yeah, yeah, absolutely – my dad loves to tell me what I should be doing in life, even though he knows nothing about the way things are now. He’s sick at the moment but he used to be a London cabbie. He used to love his job – he knew all the places to get a good brew in London. He knew all the other regular drivers on his patch. There’s not much he can’t tell you about London itself but there’s lots he doesn’t know that goes on underneath, even under the levels he sees. It’s the same in every generation, isn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘But you love it so much here, you love being near your dad so much that nothing would tear you away?’ Carter persisted.

  ‘I’m not saying that. I just have a great lifestyle. I get to surf all year round, summers are unbelievable here and good money. Then I go away and snowboard in the winter – what more could I want?’

  ‘What about if there were no restrictions on what business you could have here? If I said to you, you can knock all those shops down across the road and build your dream place, what would it be?’

  Marky looked across the street and grinned. ‘It would probably have a bar in it.’

  ‘Definitely, nothing nicer than a beach bar,’ agreed Carter.

  ‘Live music – there are a good few local bands in Penhaligon.’

  ‘Tick – bands, a bar, tick. What else?’ asked Carter.

  ‘A decent restaurant, a new clothes shop, bigger surf shop, I don’t know.’ Marky turned back to his polishing, daydream over.

  ‘That polish is making you allergic, you haven’t stopped sniffing since I walked in here.’ Carter winked at Marky and then walked to the back of the shop and peered into the store room. ‘These changing rooms?’ he asked.

  ‘No, that’s the stock room. The changing rooms are to your right.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I can see them. So what other staff do you have?’

  ‘Jago helps me out when he’s home.’

  ‘He’s home permanently, isn’t he?’ Carter said.

  ‘Not sure how long he’ll stay.’

  ‘What does it depend on?’

  ‘Things, prospects, I suppose, you’ll have to talk to him.’ Marky became defensive.

  ‘How does he make a living here?’ Carter asked.

  ‘You’ll have to ask him.’

  ‘Just Jago help you out?’ Marky nodded. ‘Not Towan?’

  He shrugged. ‘He’s busy.’

  Carter picked up the leather wristband collection and tried one on.

  ‘I’m going to get one of these.’ He spread them out on top of the cabinet to look at. ‘You’re a very close-knit society here, aren’t you?’

  ‘Have to be. Have to help one another out.’

  ‘Helping one another also means covering for one another’s mistakes?’

  ‘I suppose it might do, to a certain extent.’

  ‘What about this missing boy, do you think someone here could be involved?’ asked Carter.

  ‘No way, I don’t see it.’

  ‘Neither do I, but it’s difficult to get past the evidence.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Marky.

  ‘So many things point this way. Now we also have the possibility that you lot, you tight-knit lot, are lying to me about the day of the funeral and who came back with who.’

  ‘I came back with Jago.’

  ‘And what time was that?’

  ‘Late – about three in the morning,’ answered Marky.

  Carter arranged his money on the counter in a neat pile.

  ‘You say you stayed in London till then but we have CCTV footage of you at the Bristol services at half past eight. Why is that?’

  Marky’s eyes searched the ceiling for the answer, then he grinned awkwardly. ‘Yeah – that’s right. We did come straight back; well, we went to Exeter to see some mates.’

  ‘I want their names and addresses.’

  Marky shuffled and looked around the room; he thrust his hands in his pockets. His face had gone pale.

  ‘What about Kensa?’ asked Carter. ‘Didn’t you see her there at the edge of the cemetery at the funeral?’

  He looked uncomfortable, distracted. He’d begun glancing towards the door as if he wanted to leave. ‘Yeah, it’s possible.’

  ‘You know Kensa, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do; I’ve known her all my life.’

  ‘Of course you have. You’d know if she ever had been in trouble, needed help? Like one night at a beach party maybe?’

  Marky stared at Carter, speechless.

  ‘Mawgan saw her at the funeral, went to talk with her,’ added Carter. ‘They even came home together in Mawgan’s car.’

  ‘Look, I’ve got to close up now. I promised to go and visit Mum. Was there anything else?’ Marky came out from behind the counter and went to stand by the front door. He waited there for Carter to leave.

  ‘Thanks for the chat and the bracelet,’ the detective said as he straightened the column of coins on the counter. Carter slid the leather knotted bracelet up over his hand and adjusted it while Marky waited for him to leave. ‘You want to ease up on the coke, your nose is looking pretty lively.’

  Carter heard the door shut and lock after he went out and back down the steps. He put a hand up to stop the sand from flying into his face and going into his eyes. He took his sunglasses out of his top pocket and put them on as he crossed the street. Towan was coming out of the farm shop.

  ‘Can I have a word?’

  Towan stayed where he was and waited with a petulant look on his face. ‘You work here most days?’ asked Carter.

  ‘Only when I have to. Look, what is it? I have a date.’

  ‘Not what you wanted to do in life, this?’

  ‘Oh well, it will do, until a better offer comes along,’ answered Towan.

  ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘Oh, you know, convert this whole line of rubbish shops into a casino and have a strip club on the end where the Surfshack is.’ He grinned as he watched Marky drive away from across the road.

  ‘Ambitious,’ said Carter, pretending to be impressed.

  ‘Yeah – just joking. I intend to leave here pretty soon anyway – I don’t really give a shit what happens to it after that. I have to stay here for now – show willing, sell fucking potatoes for a job, keep myself out of trouble.’

  ‘Why, because you’ve just come out of prison?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty much.’

  ‘Learned your lesson?’

  Towan shrugged. ‘I learned a lot in prison, that’s for sure.’

  ‘But is it a place you’d be keen to go back to?’

  ‘No. I did my time. I’m staying clean now. What do you want? You have nothing to pin on me – you finished?’

  ‘Whoa . . .’ Carter rocked back on his heels. ‘Calm down, tiger. You’re in no position to be rude to me. You may be used to the Sheriff’s ways but they’re not mine; I assure you, I won’t let you off anything. I find you have anything to do with this little boy’s disappearance and you’ll never surf again except from a belt round your neck in a prison cell.’

  ‘What kid? I don’t know anything about a kid,’ said Towan, backing off.

  ‘You know what kid I’m talking about. There’s not a person in this town who doesn’t know. I’m going to find him. I have a lot of resources at my disposal.’

  ‘Hasn’t helped you so far, has it? Look, I do what I’m told to. I can’t afford to upset anyone right now. People tell me to jump and I say “How high?”.’

  ‘What about if you were told to blame someone for a rape he didn’t commit?’

  ‘You’ve lost me now.’

  Chapter 28

  Willis found Lauren waiting for her kneeling by the front door.

  ‘There was so
meone here. A woman called Kensa,’ she said, struggling to breathe and talk.

  Damn, thought Willis. They should have insisted she stay away from Lauren. ‘What did she want?’

  ‘She says she’s seen Samuel in her dreams. She was talking, repeating what she’d heard, and it sounded just like him. Even her expression; the face she made – it was just like him. The way she said “Mommy, Mommy” – like Samuel says it.’

  Lauren looked up, still on her knees. She closed her eyes as she swayed and hugged herself. Willis got down to help her up.

  ‘Come on, Lauren, we need to talk about this. Come and sit down.’

  Willis led her through to the kitchen and sat opposite her at the table. ‘Tell me what happened.’

  Willis listened and waited for Lauren to finish. Her eyes were so full of hope and her hands were shaking as they held her mug of tea.

  ‘I know who Kensa is – Carter and I met her last evening,’ Willis said.

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘She lives in a caravan in the fields above town. She says she knows Toby, she remembers meeting him years ago when they were teenagers.’ Lauren had a confused expression on her face. ‘And she would have seen Samuel at the funeral. She was there, at the edge of the cemetery. She didn’t come forward but she would have heard Samuel then. We can’t be sure that she’s not making it up, but we are investigating everything she says. I promise you, we’ll take it seriously.’

  ‘Stop a minute . . . how does Toby know her? What do you mean? He hasn’t been here since he was a child.’

  ‘Listen, Lauren, I’ll tell it to you the way I heard it, the way I understand it – I’m sorry it seems like this is one more problem for you to absorb, but it may help us understand where Samuel is, in its own way. Okay?’ Lauren stared back at Willis. ‘Something happened here, in this place, that’s been covered up for years. It’s something that involved Toby.’

  Lauren frowned and she shook her head.

  ‘Fourteen years ago, in June 2000, Toby came down here with his father for the summer. He had a holiday romance with Kensa, the woman you met today. Things didn’t end well. Toby was accused of attacking her but it never come to court. It wasn’t even investigated.’

  Lauren looked away as she tried to take in everything Willis was saying. She picked up her pen and began writing headings.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ she said. ‘Toby is supposed to have attacked the woman who came here today?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I have to talk to him.’ Lauren stood and picked up her phone.

  ‘Use the landline.’

  ‘No, I need to get some fresh air.’

  ‘Lauren, wait, please sit down. I haven’t finished.’

  She sat down again.

  ‘The circumstances around the incident are difficult.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The claim is that Toby raped Kensa.’

  ‘Raped? That’s not possible. But, even if it were, what has that got to do with Samuel? Why would they take my son? Does someone hate Toby that much?’ Willis didn’t answer. ‘Did he admit to the rape?’ asked Lauren.

  ‘He believes he must have done it.’

  ‘I need to talk to this woman and I have to ring Toby.’

  Lauren stopped to catch her breath as she walked up the steep and winding road. Willis walked on ahead. Lauren was clutching her phone in her hand. She wanted to get to the top of the road to be sure she had enough signal so they wouldn’t get cut off. Willis stopped and waited at the beginning of the second field; she stepped into the gateway as Lauren rang Toby’s number; it went straight to answer machine, so she left a message. Willis stood looking out over the green sodden field as it rolled up into the blue sky. She took a few deep breaths as she leaned her arms on the top of the gate and rested her chin. Lauren joined her.

  ‘I can smell wood smoke,’ she said. ‘I haven’t smelled that in years.’

  ‘Lauren, remember to keep as calm as possible with Kensa. She is also a victim in this. If she knows anything about Samuel’s whereabouts we need to make her want to tell us. If we upset or scare her she’ll be gone.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Willis unlatched the gate and pushed it open, avoiding the deep muddy ruts where vehicles had pulled in. Lauren followed Willis as she walked to her left past the thick hedge and up to the line of caravans at the top of the field. As they walked towards them Willis kept her eyes on the last van. She was also looking for the horse but there was no sign. The smoke curled upwards from a fire to the back of the van. She saw movement and Kensa came round to the front and threw out a bucket of water into the grass. She looked their way and stood staring at Lauren for half a minute, watching them push their way up the steep field. Then Kensa turned away and disappeared from sight.

  As they reached the van Kensa was sitting on one of the white plastic chairs, poking through the ashes of a fire. She looked up as she raked the ashes; the wood flared red beneath the black of charcoal as it spluttered and spat. Kensa took up a piece of cardboard and began fanning it.

  ‘My horse has gone – someone’s taken him. I rode him home, came to see to the fire and now he’s gone.’

  ‘Morning, Kensa.’ Willis watched as Kensa studied Lauren. ‘I’ve come to ask you some more questions if you don’t mind. This is Lauren, you met already at the house?’

  ‘Hello,’ Lauren said.

  ‘He’s called Misty. I’ve raised him since he was a foal. He’d never wander.’

  Willis pulled out a chair away from the smoke and sat down.

  ‘Kensa, we’ll get searching for you when we leave here.’ Willis looked up at Lauren. Lauren gave a small nod to reassure Willis that she was okay.

  Kensa squinted up at Lauren through the smoke. ‘Sorry for scaring you this morning.’ She reached over and picked up a few sticks from a pile, snapping them into shorter lengths.

  ‘I’ve been told about your friendship with Toby,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m so sorry for anything bad that happened to you.’

  ‘That night was all a big secret until Mr Forbes-Wright took his own life. Funny that.’

  Lauren shook her head. ‘I never knew him, but he seems to have been important to this place.’

  ‘What happened to me wasn’t the worst of it. Has he ever been nasty with you?’ Kensa looked up at Lauren as she fed the sticks into the embers.

  ‘Toby?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No. He’s a very gentle, sensitive man, very shy.’

  Kensa smiled as she reached across for a log for the fire.

  ‘That’s him. I thought he was gorgeous.’ She looked up at Lauren and smiled. ‘He had such a sweet way about him.’ She pulled her blanket tightly around herself as she sniffed and wiped her nose with the edge of it.

  ‘It was never proved, never investigated, was it, Kensa?’ Willis said.

  ‘Nope. Didn’t need to, Sheriff said, facts speak for themselves.’ She looked up at them both. Shook her head. A sadness had come over her. It deadened her face. Aged her. ‘They said it was an absolute certainty that he had done it to me; they said they had proof, they had witnesses and that was all done and dusted. They said did I want to press charges. Did I want to ruin his life and mine and my dad’s – they offered Dad ten thousand pounds and he took it. For the best.’

  ‘Who advised you, Kensa? Who was there that day?’ Willis asked.

  ‘Sergeant Raymonds. Raymonds took care of it all. He said it would not make a scrap of difference to the lad, he was one of those lads from public school who looked down on us and he wouldn’t give a damn about a girl like me. He said it served me right for going with a lad like that, above my station, and I would have to live with the shame of letting myself be taken advantage of. He said if I agreed not to press charges then no more would ever be said about it, otherwise the whole village would know.

  ‘They said it was your own fault?’ Lauren asked, sounding shaky.

  ‘Oh, yes. Sh
ould have known better than to trust a stranger. The locals said he brought drugs with him, he planned it all along. Drugged me, raped me, beat me up.’

  ‘I’m sorry you never got justice, Kensa,’ Willis said. ‘It’s not too late.’ Willis was staring at the wreck of a woman before her; she could see that all her self-esteem had vanished that night.

  ‘And you never saw Toby again?’ asked Lauren.

  ‘No. I try to remember him as the sweet lad I knew. We had two weeks of summer love before it all went wrong. I try and remember him like that.’ She smiled sadly.

  ‘Kensa . . .’ Lauren leaned into her and spoke. ‘When we sell the house and settle his estate, pay the tax, I will make sure you get something.’

  Kensa shook her head as she stared into the fire. Then she looked up at Lauren and the embers lit her eyes.

  ‘Don’t ever sell the house. The house belongs to the people of the village. It has too many secrets now. You live in it and bear those secrets or you sell it to Raymonds and let things continue as they are. Believe me, you’ll never get your boy back.’

  Lauren gasped as she rocked on her feet.

  ‘What do you know, Kensa? Who said that?’

  ‘I only know that you cross the town and you pays for it. I’ve already said too much to you and they will punish me.’

  On the way back down the hill Lauren strode forward.

  ‘I’m going to call Toby again now.’

  ‘I’ll see you back at the house. There will be another officer with us, a Family Liaison Officer, soon.’

  ‘No, I don’t want anyone else in the house,’ Lauren said, visibly upset.

  ‘Sorry, Lauren, it’s not up to me.’

  ‘But I have you here.’

  ‘I can’t stay with you all the time. I need to take an active part in the investigation.’

  ‘Am I a suspect?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I don’t need nursemaiding, I need you to get results. I’ll tell you if I’m not coping.’ She stayed back to try Toby again.

  Chapter 29

  Raymonds watched the news that morning and the reconstruction on television. It fascinated him as he pulled up his camel-skin pouffe and sat a foot from the TV screen, watching every single move that the pretend Toby took.