A Cornish Revenge (The Loveday Ross Cornish Mysteries Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: A Cornish Revenge (The Loveday Ross Cornish Mysteries Book 1)
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  Loveday stared at her.

  ‘I followed her out here…saw her getting off the bus…held back until she had got past the pub…then I pulled into the car park and went after her.’

  She looked up into Loveday’s eyes.

  ‘She was standing on the edge, staring down. I called out and ran forward to grab her. But she was like a wild thing, screaming that she had murdered Bentine and had nothing to live for. We struggled and I desperately tried to keep a hold of her, but she just slipped away.’

  Abbie was staring over the edge now. ‘Poor little Kit,’ she said quietly, and then… ‘We can’t leave here down there on her own. I’ll go for help.’

  ‘I thought you had already called the police?’ Loveday said.

  ‘No…I don’t think I said that. But I’ll go now.’

  But Loveday wasn’t listening. She was staring at something glinting in the stubble just ahead. It was half embedded in the mud, where it had been trodden in. She bent to pick it up. It was a button, a cheap brass button with an embossed anchor on it. It was just like the ones on Kit’s jacket. She held it out in the palm of her hand.

  ‘But this was nowhere near the edge Abbie. If you were telling the truth then Kit had been nowhere near this spot.’

  Abbie swayed closer, her face contorted into a sneer. ‘So my letter didn’t fool you? You just don’t know when to leave things be, do you Missie? …Going around like some kind of cheap amateur detective. Don’t think I haven’t been on to you.  But there is nothing you can prove, is there? So you might as well know. Yes, I killed Kit. She was becoming a liability.’ Her lips curved in a grotesque grin. ‘She was getting guilt trips about Bentine. But we had to do it. We both knew that. He thought he had got rid of me, but it was him we got rid of.’

She advanced on Loveday and made a grab for her. ‘And you’re going to join your little friend right now.’

  Loveday ducked and she felt Abbie’s hands brush her shoulders as she stumbled. Loveday edged back and tried to get off the path, but the gorse on the banks was slippery after the rain. Abbie grabbed at her ankles.

  ‘Say your prayers, journalist woman,’ she rasped, her breath coming in short gasps as Loveday struggled to free herself.

  ‘There’s another letter!’ Loveday screamed, praying the lie would buy her more time. ‘Kit wrote to the police, telling them everything.’

  Abbie released her grip and stared wide eyed at Loveday.

  ‘You’re lying,’ she hissed.

  ‘It’s true. The police have it…they’re on their way here right now…they’re coming for you, Abbie, so there is no point in killing me.’

  ‘You’re lying…you bitch…you’re lying.’ Her face was contorted with rage as she moved closer. Loveday could feel the woman’s breath on her cheek. She made a grab for Loveday’s hair, but Loveday ducked out of reach and Abbie caught her collar. ‘Why are you lying? Her words came out in a shriek that was instantly torn away by the wind.

  Loveday struck out, caught the other woman a sharp blow to her face. She seized her shoulders and forced her to the ground. Abbie tried to wriggle out of Loveday’s grip. But she was going nowhere…not this time. Loveday put a knee between Abbie’s shoulder blades and pinned her to the ground. Where the hell were the police?

‘You’re assaulting me. I’ll have you charged,’ the woman was screaming

‘Yes, you know all about that, don’t you Abbie…you being a lawyer, I mean. At least you were until Bentine got you struck off. I know, you see. I’ve read all about you.

‘You drugged Paul Bentine and made poor Kit help take him to that beach. You pinned him down and left him to drown.’ Loveday could see it all now.

  Abbie’s face contorted in rage. ‘Yes!’ she shrieked, but the word was swallowed by the thundering of the waves below. ‘He deserved to die. He was evil.’ She was still yelling.

  Loveday looked down to where Kit’s body lay. ‘She didn’t deserve it though, did she?’

  That second of distraction was all Abbie needed. Her fury had empowered her. She threw back her arms, sending Loveday flying. Then she was on top of her, grabbing Loveday’s arms and forcing her face into the ground. Loveday could taste the mud…feel the grit scratching her face.

  ‘If you care so much about poor little Kit you can join her.’

Loveday struggled desperately to find a footing, a boulder where she could wedge her foot, but Abbie had the strength of a tiger and was forcing her over the edge. She was slipping. At any second she would plunge to the rocks below.

Suddenly there was a noise behind her, feet running…scuffling. Abbie released her grip slightly as she too heard the sounds. Then there was a scream. Was it her own scream or was it Abbie’s? Loveday didn’t know. Tears were coursing down her cheeks and strong hands were going round her shoulders, pulling her back…back from the edge.

  Loveday felt herself being lifted from danger, strong arms holding her close as she buried her face in the familiar softness of the tweed. It was the smell of home, the smell of the Highlands. Her father had come to keep her safe.

  But the voice didn’t belong to her father. It was an angry voice and it was shouting at her. ‘How could you be so stupid, Loveday? Two more seconds and you would have gone. You couldn’t leave it to us? You just had to get involved, didn’t you?’

  The hands that had held her so tenderly a few seconds ago were now grasping her shoulders, forcing her to look up into Sam’s angry face. He was shaking his head.

  Loveday pulled free and Amanda appeared beside them. She touched Loveday’s arm. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, gently.

  Loveday nodded.

  ‘Take her home,’ Sam growled.

Loveday felt sick and foolish. She just wanted to get out of there. She could feel her face wet, but didn’t know if it was tears or blood.

  ‘I’ll get somebody to follow with your car,’ Amanda said, guiding Loveday to her own vehicle and settling her in the front passenger seat.

  Sam’s forehead creased into a frown as he watched Amanda lead Loveday away from the cliff path, away from the horror of Kit Armitage’s sad, broken body down on the rocks. He shuddered. Loveday had been seconds from joining poor Kit. Why couldn’t she have just stayed at home and let them deal with this? It was their job after all, not hers.

But he already knew the answer. She’d have done it for Kit. She would have believed there was a chance that she could have saved her. But saved her for what…the rest of her life in prison? Sam doubted if the ill-fated Kit would have thanked her for that.

  He turned and moved towards the edge, to the spot where just a few minutes ago his heart had stopped. He had grabbed Abbie off Loveday and hurled the woman away. He’d picked Loveday up and cradled her. Did she realise she’d been inches from death? He’d been angry. He couldn’t remember what he’d said to her, but he knew it was harsh. He wished now that he had dealt with the situation more calmly.

He’d already lost his lovely Tessa, now another woman he’d grown to care for had faced death. Sam stared down to where the waves crashed against the rocks and a shudder went through him. He was seeing Loveday’s body down there, another broken doll, with all that lovely dark hair spread over the unforgiving rocks.

  They’d handcuffed Abbie Grainger’s hands behind her, and she was being led away flanked by two burly PCs. Sam glanced back down again, lips compressed in a hard line. They had another body to recover.

Cassie had been watching for Loveday’s car and rushed forward, arms outstretched when she saw the strange car pull into the drive. She put her arm around Loveday’s shoulders led her indoors. Cassie’s kitchen was warm but the heat had not yet penetrated Loveday’s bones and she was shaking. Adam made a cursory examination and, satisfied that Loveday had suffered no broken bones or other serious injury, nodded his approval for Cassie to gently bathe the cuts and grazes on her hands and face. Then he left, appearing seconds later with a glass of brandy.

  ‘Drink it,’ he said. ‘It will make you feel better.’

  It was an order, and Loveday did as she was told, contorting her face into a grimace as the powerful spirit slid down her throat making a fire in her belly.

  ‘All of it.’ Adam insisted, standing over her until she had complied.

  ‘There, that wasn’t so bad, now,’ he smiled, taking the glass from her.

  She had stopped shaking

  ‘Better?’ Cassie asked, her expression full of concern.

  Loveday nodded. ‘Much.’

  Adam left them to it. He knew he would just be in the way if he hung around. Cassie had a better chance than he did of getting Loveday talking…and that was what she most needed to do now, to talk. Talking about the ordeal, getting it all out into the open would lessen the trauma of the situation.

  ‘I’m fine now, really I am,’ she said when the door had clicked softly behind Adam.

  ‘Feel up to talking about it?’ Cassie’s voice was gentle.

  Loveday nodded, but she was powerless to stop the tears as she recounted what had happened to her since she left Cassie, calling instructions for her to call the police only an hour or so earlier. Was that all it had been? It seemed to Loveday like a lifetime ago.

In a tremulous voice she told Cassie about the horrors on the cliff top, about Kit’s pitiful broken body on the rocks. She described her struggle with Abbie, and how she’d fought for her life on the edge of the cliff. She’d believed she was going to die…and then the arms had come around her, scooping her to safety. She could hear the gentleness in Sam’s voice; feel his breath in her hair, the familiar smell of the tweed jacket. Tears were coursing down her cheeks because suddenly, the voice had become harsh…accusing.

  ‘How could you be so stupid?’ He’d yelled.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

  Loveday had been a good patient. She’d swallowed the sleeping pills Adam had given her the previous night and had slept till daylight. She woke to discover one of those golden September mornings, when the birds decide that maybe summer isn’t quite over yet. She tried to get up, but her body ached. Slowly she raised her shoulders from the bed and swung her legs to the floor.

The worst pain was across her shoulders and neck. She winced, remembering how Abbie had pinned back her arms, forcing her face into the grit. She imagined she could still taste it. Suddenly she was trembling violently. She lifted her chin forcing slow, calming breaths into her lungs. ‘I can do this,’ she told herself, easing off the bed and putting her feet on the floor.

She stood up gingerly, testing her legs. Her movements were stiff and jerky, but at least she could walk. She got to the bathroom and turned on the taps. A good hot soak would make a new woman of her.

She took a soft white towel from the cupboard, and then shrank back in horror as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. There were livid, angry scratches all the way down her right cheek, and bruises under both eyes that were beginning to turn purple. She steadied herself on the side of the bath and felt tears of despair roll down her cheeks.

  The sound of the running water brought Loveday to her senses and she got to the taps just in time to prevent the bathwater spilling over. For twenty minutes she soaked in the lavender scented foam, trying not to think about what had happened. But that was impossible. She could see Abbie’s face, contorted with rage and madness. She could feel Sam’s arms around her, hear his voice, gentle and comforting. Then he’d got angry. Why had he got angry?

When she stepped out of the bath she could move more easily. Even her bruised face looked a little more acceptable, but maybe she was just getting used to it. At least she was alive.

There had been a moment out there on the cliffs when she thought she would die. Then the arms had come round her…his arms…and the voice in her hair was tender…caring. Had she imagined that part? But Sam Kitto’s anger had been real enough. He’d called her stupid, told her she shouldn’t have meddled in police business – and then dispatched her home with a woman constable. She wasn’t sure now what had upset her most.

At first, Loveday thought she must be imagining the clink of cups from her kitchen as she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in the white bath towel. But she hadn’t. Cassie was there.

  ‘They say lots of sweet tea is good for a crisis,’ she called, filling Loveday’s cream ceramic teapot with boiling water from the kettle. ‘How are you today?’ Her eyes were full of sympathy as she came forward to touch her friend’s arm.

  Loveday threw out a warning hand. ‘Don’t touch me.’ She attempted a lop-sided smile. ‘Everything hurts.’

  Cassie nodded, understanding. ‘Poor love,’ she said, lifting a lock of damp hair from Loveday’s face. ‘You have been through the wars, haven’t you? Well you go off and get dressed and I’ll get the tea going.’

  ‘I don’t deserve you, Cassie,’ Loveday called from the bedroom as she carefully pulled on her jeans and shrugged into a soft blue sweater. She’d brushed her hair back and quickly platted it in a single long rope. Not glamorous, she reflected as she gazed at her mirror image, but maybe improving?

She was reminded of another time when she was ten and had crashed her bike with a force. Her face had been scratched and bleeding then too. She smiled. Her mother had been there to comfort her – just as Cassie was doing now.

But there had been no comfort from Inspector Sam Kitto. The more Loveday thought about it the more indignant she became. If it hadn’t been for her, the police would still be trying to find Paul Bentine’s killer. She had delivered that killer to them on a plate. But was Sam Kitto grateful? No! In fact, he’d been completely obnoxious.

  The mobile phone on her bedside cabinet suddenly burst into life. Loveday reached for it and smiled at the caller ID. ‘My God, Loveday! Are you all right?’ Merrick sounded shocked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Loveday assured. ‘Really I am.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do? I can drive over.’

  ‘No, really. I’m fine now, Merrick, honestly. Anyway. Cassie’s here, and spoiling me rotten.’

  ‘Well if you’re sure. But I’ll be over tomorrow, whether I’m invited or not.’

  ‘Look forward to it,’ Loveday grinned, putting the phone down. A warm feeling was beginning to spread through her. She had such lovely friends.

Cassie was holding a mug of tea out to her when she came back to the kitchen and she sat down gingerly, sipping the comforting drink. ‘I was thinking of going for a wonder along the beach this morning,’ Loveday said.

‘Do you think that’s wise?’ Cassie winced at Loveday’s bruises. ‘You don’t want to frighten the natives.’ 

‘Oh, thanks a bunch. Do I really look that bad?’

Cassie bit her lip and tipped her head to the side as she studied Loveday’s face. ‘Let’s just say you won’t be winning any bonnie baby competitions this week.’

  Later, they walked together to the end of the drive, stopping to watch the rabbits nibbling contentedly on the lawn. It was strangely comforting to see them there. No matter what traumas happened around them, their simple, uncomplicated lives carried on as usual.

The sound of an engine made them look up as small boat, it’s outboard chugging noisily, moved from the pier in the direction of the island. The tide was going out. Soon the causeway would be exposed.

Loveday gave Cassie a backward wave and crossed the road, heading along the seafront.

  Cassie turned back up the drive, having already decided the day was too good to waste just pottering around the house. The school was on a half-day holiday. She would pack a few sandwiches and drinks, toss a couple of plastic chairs in the back of the Land Rover, collect Sophie and Leo from school and drive them to St Ives.

As she reached the door the crunch of tyres on the gravel made her spin round. Her hand went up to shade her eyes from the bright sun. ‘Inspector,’ she said stiffly. ‘If you’re looking for Loveday, you’ve just missed her.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you know where she’s gone?’

  Cassie bristled. If what Loveday had told her about this man was right, there was no need for courtesy. ‘Is that any business of yours, Inspector?’ she snapped. ‘Hasn’t Loveday done enough for you?’

  Sam’s eyebrows descended into a frown. He’d probably deserved that…and more.

  ‘Is she OK?’

  The man looked genuinely concerned and Cassie relented. ‘She’s fine. She’s a tough girl, our Loveday.’

  The shadow of a smile crossed Sam’s face. ‘I know,’ he said, glancing at Loveday’s car in the drive. ‘She hasn’t gone far then?’

  Cassie laughed. ‘You’re not a detective for nothing, are you? She’s gone for a walk along the beach.’

  Sam cleared his throat and inspected his shoes.

  ‘You can come in if you like,’ Cassie said.

  Half an hour, and two cups of coffee later, Sam was strolling along the seafront, hoping to meet Loveday on her way back.

  He felt ridiculously nervous. Apologies didn’t come easily to him, and he suspected that he had quite a lot of apologising to do. He had no idea why he had behaved as he had on the cliff top.

He’d no right to have been so angry with her – annoyed, perhaps. She had, after all, interfered in his investigation, but he had to admit that she had also helped. If it hadn’t been for Loveday, they might not have Geraldine Fielding in custody now. She had eventually confessed to killing Paul Bentine after an extended interview that went on into the wee small hours of the morning.

But Loveday had put herself in danger, and they didn’t exactly encourage members of the public to that.  He sighed. He knew that wasn’t the reason why he’d got so angry with her out there on the cliff top. Against his better judgment he had developed feelings for the spirited Miss Ross.

He passed the local hotel and checked his watch. The bar wouldn’t be open yet and he was already swimming in coffee, and besides, if he went inside he might miss her. He sat on a bench in the little garden beside the hotel and watched the water lap away from the causeway to the Mount.

It was a day to be out. He lost count of the people strolling, and in some cases running, on the beach, their trainers making imprints on the damp sand. Tiny wading birds were busily pecking along the tideline. They reminded Sam of the tin toys his grandfather had produced one day from his attic.

From his vantage point he could see a lone figure standing on the beach, also watching the scene. A child kicked a ball, and the figure limped to retrieve it, a long dark rope of hair swinging over her shoulder.

Sam’s heart gave an unexpected lurch. It was her! Just for an instant he thought of leaving. But that was stupid. Cassie knew he was here. She would certainly tell Loveday, and she would add cowardice to what she must already have decided was a long list of his inadequacies.

  He headed back towards Loveday’s cottage, knowing that further along the road there were various access points to the beach. That way he could get down to the sand and stroll towards her, without giving the impression that he had been watching her from the hotel garden.

Loveday was deep in thought as she strolled. She was thinking of another beach, near her home on the Black Isle, outside Inverness, where she and her brothers, Hugh, and Brodie, had kicked a ball. Of course, she had been there on sufferance. What self-respecting schoolboy would want to play footie with his sister – no matter how good she was.

‘Always one for the rough and tumble, that’s our Loveday,’ her father had so often said, ruffling her long, streaming dark hair. She wished she was home in Scotland with her family right now.

The irritated cry of a gull rang out overhead and she shielded her eyes to look up and watch it. A family strolled leisurely ahead of her, their little boy kicking his ball across the beach. It rolled towards her and she moved forward, the stiffness making her limp, to retrieve the ball and tossed it back to the laughing child.

She recognised the man immediately and stopped, hands on hips, as he approached.

Sam hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Loveday’s bruised face, and was overcome by a sudden rush of tenderness. His first instinct had been to reach out for her, as he had yesterday on the cliffs. But Loveday misinterpreted his stare and an embarrassed flush crept up her neck. She cradled her face, hiding the bruises from him.

‘Adam says it’s all superficial. I just have to go around for a few days looking like Dracula’s mother till it all heals up.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Loveday,’ he said, not daring to touch her. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  She rubbed her arm. ‘You were a bit rough,’ she said.’ I was only trying to help.’

  He swallowed. ‘You could have got yourself killed. In fact you nearly did. You should have left all that to us.’

  ‘You weren’t there.’ Her shoulders rose in a slow shrug. ‘Besides, I thought I could help Kit.’

  The mention of her name brought back the picture of her body down on the rocks and Loveday turned away as she struggled to fight back the threat of more tears. There’d be no crying in front of Inspector Sam Kitto.

  ‘Look,’ Sam said, screwing his eyes against the bright sun. ‘Do you fancy a drink?’

  Loveday shook her head. ‘Can we just walk?’

He nodded and they turned and headed away from the town, where the beach became rockier.

  ‘Is the Bentine case closed now?’ Loveday asked. The wind had got up and she winced as it tugged at her sleeve.

  ‘I don’t think you should be out walking like this. You should be at home resting.’

  ‘I’m not an invalid. Anyway, Adam says exercise will be good for me…stops the joints and muscles stiffening up.’

  ‘Fine,’ Sam shrugged. ‘And yes, as far as the Bentine murder goes. Geraldine Fielding, which is Abbie Grainger’s real name, eventually confessed late last night.’ He looked at her. ‘Of course, the letter helped.’

  Loveday frowned, confused. ‘I don’t understand. Abbie wrote that letter herself. It was all lies.’

   Sam smiled. ‘I’m talking about the other letter…the one that was waiting for me when we got back to the station yesterday…the one Kit really did write.’

   Loveday stared at him. ‘But I told her that. I told Abbie out on the cliffs that Kit had written to the police confessing everything.’ Her eyes widened. ‘You mean it was actually true.’

   Sam nodded, grinning. He pursed his lips as though considering something, then pulled a plastic police evidence bag from his pocket. ‘This is strictly against the rules, but in view of everything that’s happened I think you should see it.’

   The bag contained two sheets of hand-written scrawl that had been inserted back to back for easier reading.

  ‘For Detective Inspector Sam Kitto.

Dear Inspector,

I am writing to you because I don’t know what else to do. She doesn’t let me out of her sight, but she’s sleeping at the moment so I’m taking my chance to write this.

Her name isn’t Abbie by the way, it’s Geraldine Fielding – and I’m Jane Smith - and we met in prison. She’s a lawyer and Bentine fixed it so she would do a stretch in prison and get struck off their legal books. I don’t know how to describe it but she can’t go back to being a lawyer again. She made up things in a court case - fabricating evidence the judge called it - and Bentine found out about it and he shopped her. So that’s why she got put inside. I was there because I killed my husband. I couldn’t take the beatings any longer, you see, so I took a knife to him. Paul Bentine was my lawyer and he told me I had to plead guilty to murder. He said the courts would be lenient, but they weren’t, and I got sent down. So you see, Geraldine and I both had reasons to hate Bentine.

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