Angel with Two Faces

by Nicola Upson

  Out of courtesy to Rowena Cade, he stopped briefly at Minack House to update her on the police presence on her property, but she was out walking the cliffs so he made his way over the brow of the hill. No time had been wasted today: a thorough search of the scene itself and the nearby cliff paths had begun at first light and was now drawing to a close. Penrose watched, impressed, as a line of men made their way slowly and systematically up the turf slope towards him; everyone involved was, no doubt, aware that this was likely to be a fruitless search but there was no indication of this in their attitude. A single piece of carelessness at this stage could prove to be costly, and Penrose – who had always been used to a trustworthy second in command – thanked his lucky stars for PC Trew. The young constable – who looked altogether different in his uniform – seemed very at home in charge of the proceedings. He had an easy rapport with the older men, Penrose noticed, and it was no small feat to command respect at such an early stage in his career. If he wanted to, there was no doubt that Trew could rise quickly through the ranks, and he smiled as he remembered his sergeant’s cynical remarks; even Bill would be hard-pushed to find fault here.

  Trew looked up and waved. ‘Just finishing up here, Sir,’ he called as he came over.

  ‘Anything I should know about?’ Penrose asked, without any real optimism.

  ‘Not a great deal,’ Trew admitted. ‘We’ve been over the whole theatre now, including the steps at either side and the backstage areas, and we’ve combed the coastal paths for a mile or so in each direction, but there’s nothing of any obvious significance. Miss Cade showed us all the routes down to the sea that she knows of, just in case whoever it was clambered down one of those and got away by boat – but if that’s the case, he left no traces.’

  Penrose walked over to the edge of the cliff, feeling the clammy sea wind on his skin, and thought for a moment. ‘It’s possible, I suppose, but it seems a lot to ask. It’s a risky enough crime as it is, without having to climb down cliffs in the dark and fight an incoming tide.’ He saw Trew’s face fall a little, and remembered that this responsibility was new to the boy. ‘We can’t rule anything out at this stage, though,’ he added. ‘Get in touch with the nearby harbourmasters – there’s a chance they might have noticed someone bringing a boat in late last night. It’s not exactly normal behaviour.’

  ‘The call’s already gone in, Sir,’ Trew said, pleased.

  ‘Good. I’ve asked the boys at the station to put a notice in the local paper, asking if anyone gave a stranger a lift last night. Something may come of that. What else have you got here?’

  ‘Very little in terms of forensics, I’m afraid. The weather’s been so good lately, and all the paths are bone dry – there’s no chance of tracking any escape that way. One exception, though – you know the recess under the stage, where he must have waited?’ Penrose nodded, although he wasn’t prepared to rule out the possibility that they were looking for a woman. ‘Well, the sun doesn’t get right in there so it’s quite muddy at the back. We’ve got a clear footprint – left boot, patched with nails that look different from the ones on the sole. It’s not much to go on, and there’s not even anything to prove it’s our man – lots of people went in and out of there during the day, apparently – but I’ve had photographs and a cast done all the same. You never know.’

  ‘No, you don’t. Well done. No sign of a cast-off monk’s habit complete with laundry marks by any chance?’

  Trew smiled. ‘I’m afraid not, Sir. Nor a signed confession placed carefully in that script you were using, but we’ll keep looking.’

  ‘Any progress on the audience lists?’

  ‘We’ve worked through as many as possible, but it’s taking a while. Everyone’s so shocked to find out that it wasn’t an accident and, as soon as murder comes into the frame, they fall into one of two categories: either they’re so anxious to oblige that they give you every detail down to what they had in their sandwiches, or so worried about getting mixed up in something that they couldn’t swear to anything, even their own name.’ He sighed, and Penrose was amused to see how quickly the young constable had acquired a world-weary approach to witnesses. ‘There’s still a few to go, but it’s very obvious that nobody remembers anything odd except that business between the dead man and the vicar.’

  ‘Yes, we’ll pay a visit to the rectory later,’ Penrose said. ‘It’s high time I caught up with my uncle.’ It was obvious from the startled look on Trew’s face that he hadn’t made the connection, and Penrose was quick to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry – there’s no love lost between us and it would be my great pleasure to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off his face, but I can’t believe that he’s capable of killing Nathaniel – physically, I mean, rather than morally. He’s just not fit enough to have got away so quickly.’

  ‘It’s a tall order for anyone, Sir. I tried it myself earlier, and I’d had it by the time I got to the top.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a steep climb. Still, it’s the only obvious hostility we’ve got towards Nathaniel at the moment, so we’d better make that a priority. Clearly there was something going on between them.’

  ‘And no one had better access to the costume that went missing from the vestry, I suppose.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Penrose walked back across the stage to the top of the steps, and looked down to the path and cliffs below. Glancing back at the balustrade, he remembered something that Nathaniel had said as he left with Morveth to practise his leap into thin air. ‘There was supposed to be someone in position on the path to make sure that Nathaniel had a safe landing when he jumped,’ he said. ‘Have we any idea who it should have been?’

  Trew looked at his notebook. ‘A man called Caplin, Sir. Joseph Caplin. Do you know him?’

  ‘Yes, he’s a farmer on the estate,’ said Penrose, surprised by the response. From what he’d seen of Caplin the night before, he was in no state to steady himself, let alone anyone else. He thought Morveth would have had more sense. ‘We’ll have to find out why he wasn’t there.’

  ‘Are you certain it couldn’t have been him, then, Sir?’

  Trew’s question forced Penrose to analyse his assumption of Caplin’s innocence, and he reconsidered. ‘Well, I can’t immediately think of any reason why he’d want to hurt Nathaniel – but that’s true of most people. And I know he was drunk last night – too drunk to do anything in cold blood.’

  ‘Unless he was putting it on, Sir. Alcohol’s a great alibi if you do it convincingly enough.’

  Penrose looked approvingly at him. ‘I like your scepticism, and you’re right, of course. We’ll add him to the list of calls. Oh – one thing I do have to report. Our missing van’s turned up.’ He repeated what Morwenna had told him about Loveday’s sudden illness. ‘There’s no reason to think that she’s lying,’ he added, anticipating Trew’s next question, ‘but we’ll look the van over when we go to see Jago Snipe.’ He took one last look around: there was nothing more to be learned here, and he couldn’t help feeling that the area which warranted their attention was a few miles back along the coast. ‘We’ll go there first. Christopher Snipe’s disappearance has got to be a priority now, whatever’s behind it.’

  ‘Are you looking for him as a suspect or another potential victim, Sir?’ Trew asked as they walked back up the hill.

  ‘To be honest, I have absolutely no idea,’ Penrose admitted. ‘I can’t imagine what he’d have against Nathaniel or, if it’s the latter, why anyone would want them both dead. There’s no immediate link that I can see. Tell me honestly – what sort of resources can we rustle up for a search of the estate?’

  ‘Nothing like enough for an area that size.’

  ‘Then we’ll get the locals involved. My uncle William will help with that. We might as well start with the area around the church as it was the last place he was seen. I suppose, out of courtesy, we should let the Reverend Motley know before we go over his graveyard with a fine-tooth comb – that can wait until we see him later. It’ll take a whil
e to get the search organised – realistically, we’re looking at first light tomorrow.’

  ‘What about the lake itself, Sir?’

  Penrose’s heart sank, but he knew it was something he had to consider. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine dragging the Loe,’ he said. ‘It’s just too deep in some places. Legend aside, there’s no way we could get the better of it – it’s just not practical. Let’s hope for now that it won’t come to that.’

  ‘There is one thing they have in common – the curate and Christopher Snipe, I mean,’ Trew added thoughtfully. ‘They were both bearers at Pinching’s funeral recently, weren’t they? Perhaps we should look into their connection with him. I don’t want to be melodramatic about it, but I know you were there, too, Sir; if there’s a chance that the other bearers are in some kind of danger, perhaps we ought to warn them.’

  ‘It’s difficult not to sound melodramatic about the prospect of a psychopath stalking pallbearers,’ Penrose said, frustrated once again by the fact that he simply could not shake off the ghost of Harry Pinching. His words were more scathing than he had intended, though, and he tried immediately to soften their impact. ‘But it’s definitely something we should follow up. Let’s go carefully, though – Caplin, Jago and Kestrel Jacks were all here and unaccounted for last night, and one of them could easily be our man. We don’t want to show all our cards at once – God knows, there are few enough of them.’ He stopped by his car and took the keys from his pocket. ‘How did you get here?’

  ‘One of the patrol cars,’ Trew said, pointing to a group of vehicles parked by Minack House.

  ‘Get someone else to take it back and come with me now. It’s time we got some statements taken, and we’ll start with Jago – I want to know everything he can tell us about his son’s behaviour lately.’ Trew hesitated. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘Not really, Sir. It’s just that I’ve got my dog with me.’

  Penrose laughed. ‘Then go and fetch him. There’s plenty of room for one more.’

  Trew beamed and disappeared, returning a couple of minutes later with what looked like a typically well-trained Airedale terrier. ‘This is Treg, Sir,’ he said as Penrose knelt down to greet the dog. ‘It’s short for Tregeagle. Looks good as gold, doesn’t he? But if I don’t keep him busy, the devil takes him back.’ The dog looked adoringly up at his owner and jumped obediently into the back seat as if to disprove such a wicked slur on his character. ‘Seriously, though, he’s good company. It can be a lonely beat at times, and we fall between two workhouses, so we get a lot of tramps passing through. They’ll try anything, given half a chance – but one bark from him and they think twice about it.’

  ‘They’d be wise to if he’s anything like the Airedales I’ve known,’ Penrose said, catching Treg’s eye in his rear-view mirror as he turned the car round and headed towards Penzance.

  There was no reason to call in at the station again and, in any case, Penrose was keen to get back to the Loe estate. As he drove, he asked Trew about his work and his hopes for the future and, in the young man’s answers, he could not help but recognise the enthusiasm and determination that he himself had had for the job when he was twenty-five – and which, he was relieved to say, he still felt, at least most of the time. But if Angus Trew’s zeal was similar to his own, their reasons for turning to the force in the first place could not have been more different. It had never been Penrose’s first choice, but he remembered as if it were yesterday the anger and bitterness which had accompanied him home from war. By then, the naivety and good intentions with which he had set out on his medical career seemed laughable to him, and made him a figure of ridicule in his own eyes, and he had turned instead to policing – not because he wanted to fight evil, but simply because he knew that there would always be evil to fight. Evil and ignorance and selfishness. Perversely, in this sad realisation, he also found comfort and a reassurance that there was a place for him – as long as he wanted one – in a world which bewildered him with its injustice. He admired, perhaps even envied, Trew’s more positive reasoning, though; it reminded him of Nathaniel’s passionate belief in his own role amongst the community, at the same time as the cynic in him muttered that such dedication had hardly served the curate well.

  Jago Snipe’s workshop was deserted, so they carried on through the village and reached the estate in good time. Penrose parked outside Loe House. ‘I need to make a quick call, so we’ll go inside for a minute,’ he said, ‘then we’ll try Jago at home and you can start to get a feel for this place. Something tells me we’ll be spending a bit of time here.’

  ‘I practically lived here as a lad,’ Trew said, looking affectionately out over the parkland.

  ‘Really? Are your family nearby then?’

  ‘They’ve moved out St Ives way now, but I grew up in Helston. There were five of us kids – I’m in the middle – and we used to come here a lot. Dad was away for most of the war, and Mum was pleased to have us out of the way for a bit.’ He blushed slightly. ‘If I’m honest, Sir, I think we might have had a rabbit or two from you in our time.’

  ‘You and the rest of the village,’ Penrose laughed. ‘There was no one here to stop you with all the men gone. My uncle was at his wits’ end. Still, at least you’ve come over to the right side now. Did your father make it back in one piece?’

  ‘Yes, we were lucky. He doesn’t talk about it much, though – never has. I’ll wait here,’ he added as Penrose let himself in.

  ‘Don’t be silly – come and wait inside. I’ll only be a minute.’

  Ronnie and Lettice were in the hall, getting ready to go out. ‘Archie! This is a nice surprise,’ Lettice said, coming over to give him a kiss, and welcoming Trew with a smile. ‘We thought we’d pop over and see Rowena – lift her spirits a bit after last night.’ She left a decent pause before adding: ‘I don’t suppose there’s any news we could give her to cheer her up? All in the strictest confidence, of course.’

  ‘Of course, but I’m afraid we can’t disclose anything yet,’ Archie said diplomatically, aware that his cousins could dress up a fact as efficiently as they could a tailor’s dummy. ‘We’ve just come from the Minack, actually, so Miss Cade knows all we can tell her at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ said Lettice, deflated.

  ‘I didn’t recognise you in your uniform, Constable.’ Ronnie was standing in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting her hat. She glanced up and down at Trew’s reflection in the glass. ‘I do hope you haven’t been hard at it all night. My cousin can be a terrible slave-driver.’ She turned round to make a big fuss of Treg and Lettice raised an eyebrow: Ronnie wouldn’t normally give a dog a second glance, something which was clearly evident to Treg, who ignored her completely.

  ‘I’m fine, Miss, thank you,’ Trew said, embarrassed.

  Penrose went through to the library and dialled the Lodge on the private line. ‘Sorry to interrupt your work again,’ he said when Josephine answered, ‘but I wondered if you could do me a favour?’

  ‘Of course,’ Josephine said. ‘And actually, you’ve called at a good time. Is chapter four too early for an inquest?’

  ‘No – they hold them as soon as possible.’

  ‘And would Grant go? Even if the body isn’t on his patch?’

  ‘I’m assuming it’s not a straightforward death, so yes – he’s likely to be called in by the chief constable. I know how the poor devil feels, so give him my regards when you see him.’

  ‘I will, but I’m afraid I’m only at the plotting stage, so it’ll be a while yet. Now, what can I do for you?’ She listened as Archie gave a brief account of his visit to Morwenna. ‘Jesus, that poor woman,’ she said when he’d finished. ‘How very cruel that so much tragedy should come from a love as strong as that. No wonder she’s angry. Part of her must hate him for leaving her like that. She’s got no life left, has she?’

  ‘Not at the moment, no.’

  The implication that Morwenna might, in time, get over Harry�
�s death seemed to Josephine to be wishful thinking, but she said nothing. ‘I don’t think she’ll take kindly to any hand of friendship from me, if that’s what you were going to ask. I’m happy to try, but if she thinks you’ve broken her confidence, it’ll destroy her trust in you as well.’

  ‘That wasn’t quite what I had in mind,’ Archie confessed. ‘Morwenna told me that Harry started seeing someone else. She said it was no one I knew, but I think she was lying. I wondered if you might find a way to see Loveday and have a chat with her – see if she knows anything. I’m particularly interested in finding out if Harry was closer to Nathaniel than Nathaniel admitted.’

  ‘I see – nothing too difficult, then. You just want me to find out from a sick and grieving fourteen-year-old if her adored, dead brother started having sex with the vicar after his sister jilted him?’

  ‘I think I can trust you not to put it quite like that,’ Archie said, amused. ‘To avoid any confusion, at least call him a curate and not a vicar.’

  Josephine laughed. ‘All right. I’ll see what I can do. If there was a different picture from the one we know, it’s something that she might in all innocence be happy to tell me about. She loved them both, after all. Is she at their cottage?’

  ‘Yes. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘Ronnie pointed it out to me on the way in from Penzance. I’ll call there later this afternoon. I don’t fancy my chances of getting past Morwenna, though. She’ll know immediately that you’ve told me, of course – are you prepared for that?’

  ‘She won’t necessarily guess that you know everything.’