Swimming with the Dead

by Peter Guttridge

  ‘Did you see anyone unfamiliar in the line-up?’

  Neill laughed. ‘We had one hundred and sixty-five swimmers, each with a team of at least one. Of course there were unfamiliar faces. But why does it need to be unfamiliar? There are enough deadly rivalries in this sport to keep CrimeStoppers – when it was still on, of course – busy for years.’

  Heap looked surprised. ‘I thought it was collegiate and friendly with everyone helping each other unselfishly.’

  Neill let out a loud guffaw. ‘I’m afraid it’s not so Famous Five. It’s like anything – rivalries abound. There is one man who has trademarked the title Ruler of the Channel, claiming he has swum the channel more times than anyone else. It is even beset by rivalries between competing swimming organizations.’

  ‘So is there someone among this group of swimmers who had it in for Ms Bromley?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘I’m not saying that.’

  ‘Was she a particularly talented swimmer? Was she a threat to anyone or to anyone’s record or something?’

  Neill shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean that. I was speaking more generally. And I’m not convinced she was the target. It could have been a random attack.’

  ‘We’ve thought of that,’ Gilchrist observed, then regretted being so open.

  ‘Remember that young lad who died doing a parachute jump because somebody had cut the leads on the parachute?’ Neill said. ‘They never got to the bottom of that, did they? No apparent motive, possibly a random attack. It’s the same thing.’

  Gilchrist nodded. ‘Did Christine Bromley know Roland Gulliver?’

  Neill tugged on his beard while he thought about that.

  ‘Yes. Once upon a time. But I’d be surprised if they had kept in touch.’

  Heap cleared his throat. ‘We’re interested in the time you accompanied your wife to the police station to report a rape.’

  ‘Ah. That.’ He sat down facing them. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Why didn’t you identify yourself as her husband then either?’ Heap said.

  Neill spread his hands. ‘I was her husband only in name and, as I said, had been for a long time.’

  ‘Even so …’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘It didn’t seem relevant,’ Neill said. He held her look. ‘I didn’t realize I’d done anything wrong.’

  Gilchrist waved it away. ‘I’m more interested in what happened to her. The report is a bit hazy.’

  ‘She was raped. I found her in the street near our home and brought her to you guys. You couldn’t find who did it.’

  ‘That looks to be because your wife refused to help us in any way.’

  Neill pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

  ‘Did she tell you anything she didn’t tell the police?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘Did she allow you to examine her?’

  He shook his head swiftly.

  ‘How did she seem when she got home?’

  He looked down. ‘She didn’t come home. We parted that night.’

  ‘She left you for Janet Rule that night?’

  ‘I’m not entirely clear,’ he said. ‘She certainly didn’t stay at the house. Ever again.’

  ‘That night, though, it must have been hard to let her go off on her own, you being so protective to her,’ Heap said.

  ‘It was a nightmare but I had to respect her decision. She wasn’t hysterical or anything. In fact she was very measured. She said she was going to her mum’s and a car was coming to collect her to take her there. And it did.’

  ‘And Philip Coates?’ Heap said. ‘Did Ms Bromley know him?’

  ‘Oh, yes. They were at university together.’

  ‘They were mates?’

  ‘Christine didn’t really have mates. She was too intense and private for that. But they stayed in touch.’

  ‘I believe you were quite cut up about Mr Coates’s death,’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘I probably ended up being closer to him than Christine was because of Rasa.’

  ‘Rasa?’

  ‘Rasa Lewis, my partner.’

  ‘I know who she is but what was her relationship with Mr Coates?’

  ‘Oh they were an item for years. She was the absolute love of his life.’

  ‘I’d like to come back to that, if I may,’ Gilchrist said. ‘But may I ask again about your meetings with Roland Gulliver in the cemetery?’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘An odd place to meet, isn’t it? You said earlier you’d been a husband in name only for a long time.’

  Neill laughed. It came out as a deep rumble.

  ‘You’re back to the kissing and cuddling? I think you’re trying to suggest something in a not very subtle way. Why don’t you just come out and ask?’

  ‘Were you in a relationship with Roland Gulliver?’

  ‘As I said, I was not. I’m not in the least offended by the suggestion that we might have been, but that’s a lie. Roland Gulliver and I did not – ever – have that kind of relationship.’

  ‘What kind of relationship did you have?’ Heap said.

  ‘A long-standing one, almost from when he and Tammy first met. I assume you’ve met her?’ He saw their nods. ‘I’m afraid he really knocked the stuffing out of her. She didn’t have a clue.’

  ‘Staying with just Roland for a moment: how many times would you say you met Mr Gulliver in the cemetery?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘How many times do people say I met him there?’

  ‘Mr Neill …’ Bellamy said.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you’re putting down some kind of snare for me. Treat me fairly and I’ll respond fairly.’ They waited. ‘Maybe four times. I’m a live-in-the-moment guy. I don’t keep a calendar of my movements.’

  ‘But why the cemetery?’

  Neill walked to his window and lifted the thin blind to look out.

  ‘Somebody we both knew and cared about is buried there.’

  ‘Who?’ Heap said.

  ‘Is that relevant? It’s ancient history. But I go there regularly.’

  ‘We’re investigating two, possibly three, murders so we need to follow all possible lines of enquiry,’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘Just an old friend who died tragically young.’

  ‘Did you have a falling out about this person?’ Heap said.

  ‘No! I told you we both cared. We didn’t fall out about anything. It was something about the gravestone.’

  ‘What about the gravestone?’

  ‘An inscription had been added quite recently. I thought he might know who had done it.’

  ‘You mean graffiti?’ Heap said.

  ‘No, I mean chiselled. A professional job.’

  ‘So you were just curious about that.’

  Neill nodded.

  ‘What is the name of the person, please, Mr Neill?’

  ‘Lesley White.’

  ‘Lesley?’ Heap said.

  ‘What did the inscription say?’ Gilchrist asked.

  ‘“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”’

  ‘What did it mean?’

  Neill shrugged.

  ‘That the past can’t be forgotten.’

  ‘And you were concerned about this inscription?’

  ‘Curious, I told you.’

  ‘OK, Mr Neill,’ Gilchrist said. ‘Thank you. Now tell us about your relationship with Rasa Lewis.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘As before. You are connected to all our victims. You might even be the common thread. I’m trying to get a clear picture of how things are. You said your wife left you for another wife but you seem to be in a relationship with Rasa.’ Gilchrist gestured around her. ‘Does she live here?’

  ‘She did for a time but no longer.’

  ‘You are no longer in a relationship?’

  ‘That presupposes we ever were.’

  ‘Were you?’ Heap said.

  Neill grimaced and came over to sit down
opposite them. He clasped his hands between his knees.

  ‘Sort of. You know it works out in an odd way for most of us. I’ve been thinking a lot about the road less travelled although I know that way madness lies.’

  ‘We all have regrets, Mr Neill,’ Gilchrist said. ‘What is your particular regret?’

  ‘No, I don’t mean regrets. I mean the road less travelled with women. I suppose I should say un-travelled. I haven’t known many women but I’ve been thinking about the different lives different women invited me to lead. Women I liked well enough but I had no wish to share the kinds of lives they offered. And then there were the women who didn’t offer me a life to lead with them. And inevitably those were the invitations – and the women – I wanted and would have accepted.’

  Gilchrist wondered where this was headed.

  ‘Which category did Rasa fall into?’ Heap asked.

  ‘Rasa saddened me because there was something in her that moved me, that drew me but I knew she would never make the offer.’

  ‘But you were a couple,’ Heap said. ‘Are a couple?’

  ‘That doesn’t mean she offered to share my life.’

  ‘You’re going to have to explain that,’ Gilchrist said.

  Neill looked from Gilchrist to Heap. ‘You both look to be very nice people. Steady, reliable. Faithful, no doubt. The people I’ve always hung around with have been a little … freer. Which could lead to some emotional upsets.’

  ‘Rasa was unfaithful to you?’ Gilchrist said. ‘Or are you referring to Christine Bromley?’

  ‘Unfaithful is not in the vocabulary of people I know. Everyone is free to sleep with everyone else without it having anything to do with fidelity or infidelity.’

  Neill was looking at Gilchrist in an intense way that made her feel uncomfortable.

  ‘I’m not sure where this is taking us,’ she said.

  ‘You asked about my relationship with Rasa. I was on the move for quite a while. Globetrotting. You know most travellers you meet seem either to be going in search of something or running away. It took me a while to realize that some of us were doing both.’

  ‘What were you running from?’

  ‘I was running towards the future hoping to keep ahead of my past. Which meant I was never in the present. Never in the moment. Rasa showed me how to stay in the moment.’

  ‘What in your past was causing you such distress?’

  He looked from one to the other of them. ‘Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?’

  ‘Are you going to answer it?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘If I knew the answer, I would. If I ever figure it out, I’ll let you know.’

  The air in the room suddenly seemed heavy.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Gilchrist said. ‘Mr Neill, can I ask you about Philip Coates. Bob Watts mentioned that you thought there might be something suspicious about it even before the coroner had reached any conclusions.’

  Neill tilted his head. ‘He did, did he?’

  ‘He didn’t know you were his neighbour, by the way.’

  ‘Nor me his.’

  ‘Your suspicions?’ Heap said.

  Neill shrugged. ‘A passing fancy.’

  ‘What were your grounds for them? Had anything strange been happening?’

  Neill gave his long beard a little tug. ‘Philip and Rasa were very close. Rasa had been having some problems and Philip went in to bat for her.’ Neill started to pace. ‘The danger is giving these things oxygen by drawing attention to them.’

  ‘Murders?’

  ‘No, no. Trolling.’

  Gilchrist looked blank. Heap said: ‘Internet or tweets or both?’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘What had Rasa done to invite trolls?’ Heap said.

  ‘It was a Diana Nyad thing.’

  ‘Diana Nyad?’ Gilchrist said. Heap started tapping on his iPad.

  ‘Nyad, age sixty-four, swims one hundred and ten miles from Cuba to Florida through shark and jellyfish infested waters without a shark cage,’ Neill said. ‘One hundred and ten miles non-stop. Remarkable achievement. Remarkable woman – you can get her Ted Talk online. She’d already swum round Manhattan and from the Bahamas to Florida. Her first attempt at swimming from Havana to Key West had failed.’

  ‘She does sound remarkable,’ Gilchrist said, feeling even more unfit than usual.

  ‘I believe she is. But doubters quickly pitched in. She seemed to get through some stages of the swim very quickly. There is video for some but not all of the swim so they claimed she had got in the boat for a few miles. Satellite tracking lost her for a few hours. But if they can lose a plane in the Indian Ocean they can lose a swimmer, right? Also, her doctor said she had swum for seven and a half hours without a feed which doubters said was impossible.’

  ‘Bob Watts just did six without nourishment,’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘Exactly. But the online Cold Water Swimming Forum had people demanding to see the data. The rumours that she hadn’t done it became a torrent of abuse.’

  ‘And the same thing has happened with Rasa?’

  ‘It’s pretty stupid to cheat with so many eyes on you. In fact it’s impossible to get away with it. And it’s not as if Rasa is claiming to be a Queen of the Channel.’

  ‘Is that an official title?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘It is. It’s a Channel Swimming Association title for women who have swum the channel the most times. In one hundred and thirty-five years of Channel swimming only five swimmers have been awarded it. The first was Gertrude Ederle – she was the first woman to swim the Channel so she got it even though she only did it once.’

  ‘Only once,’ Gilchrist murmured.

  Neill smiled. ‘I know. But these days, many people swim the channel every year for up to twenty years. Cindy Nicholas was the first to swim it both ways – in fact she swam it both ways on five occasions.’

  ‘How long a gap before she headed back on the return legs?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘About ten minutes.’

  ‘Ten minutes! You’re saying she swam the Channel, had a ten-minute breather then got in and swam all the way back. That’s impossible.’

  ‘Clearly not. And she did it on five occasions. The thing is, you’re not allowed to hang about on the French beach anyway because you haven’t gone through Customs so, essentially, you’re on French soil illegally.’

  ‘Do many people swim just the one way from France to England?’ Heap said.

  ‘Not anymore. The French authorities discourage it and the channel swimming bodies here don’t accept it for some reason. Anyway, Cindy has been eclipsed by Alison Streeter. She has swum the Channel forty-three times, more than anyone in the world. So far she’s the quickest female – eight hours, forty-eight minutes – and the only one to swim the Channel three ways non-stop – in thirty-four hours, forty minutes.’

  ‘Now she’s just taking the Michael,’ Gilchrist said, finding herself unwillingly drawn into this. She sat up straighter to fool herself into thinking it made her fitter. ‘But getting back to Rasa – what was she accused of?’

  ‘Getting in the boat for part of the crossing,’ Heap said, reading from his iPad.

  ‘Some creep called Sting Ray – the name is a bit of a giveaway – began saying mean things on various forums, Wild Water Taming especially. Then others joined in.’

  ‘And what did Philip do?’

  ‘Got into an online altercation with Sting Ray. Threats were made.’

  ‘Can you access all that, Bellamy?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘Not right now but with the right links.’

  ‘Rasa will be able to help you with that. She has all the stuff.’

  ‘What does Rasa think?’

  His face took on an odd expression. ‘And you’d better ask her what she thinks. I’ll give you her address when you leave.’

  ‘Won’t be much longer, Mr Neill. Just saying hypothetically that as Mr Coates’s death is suspicious, is there a link between him and Roland
Gulliver? Aside from you that is?’

  Neill seemed to ponder for a moment. ‘Not that I can think of.’

  ‘And – again hypothetically – do you know if Gulliver or Bromley had dealings with Sting Ray? Did they intervene in the trolling? Or dealings in any other way?’

  Neill shook his head. ‘Not that I know.’

  ‘Then we’re done,’ Gilchrist said, standing. ‘For now.’

  THIRTEEN

  Heap brought Gilchrist’s glass of wine and his own half of shandy back from the bar. They were in the Colonies, the quirky little Victorian pub beside the Theatre Royal, where Watts would be joining them shortly.

  ‘Well, now, Bellamy, we have a lot of information to process and my brain is tired.’

  ‘Cheers, ma’am,’ Heap said, raising his glass.

  ‘Chin-chin,’ she said, then wondered why, as it was not an expression she’d ever used before. ‘Do you think our chat with Neill shifts the focus for Bromley’s death away from the family dispute?’

  ‘I think it embeds it more, although it suggests another dimension. Certainly, I think we can forget the random attack idea.’

  ‘Do you think Derek Neill is part of this?’ Gilchrist said.

  ‘I think I’m looking forward to getting the DNA comparisons. I also think he’s being quite cagey but I can’t put my finger on how.’ He took a minute sip of his drink. ‘I was also thinking that this cross-Channel swimming thing would be a great cover for smuggling – goods and humans.’

  ‘Humans?’

  ‘Certainly, ma’am. You know how many thousands of refugees were crammed into Calais hoping to get across to the UK? Well, a drop in the ocean, so to speak, but they are still around northern France somewhere. No reason why these pilots couldn’t add a couple to the roster on the return journey from France.’

  ‘That would involve a lot of people looking the other way, Bellamy, for quite meagre returns.’

  ‘They’d be looking the other way, anyway – everyone on board looking over one side as their swimmer heads for French sand. Couple of refugees hop on from the other side and stow away.’

  ‘As I said, meagre returns, but, yes, something to consider. Do you think Neill was telling the truth about his relationship with Gulliver?’