Blood Falls (44 page)

He didn’t need to spell it out. Leaving Fenton on the phone, Cadwell and Leon stepped into a blast of wind and rain, which intensified as they moved out of the relative protection of the veranda.

Cadwell was first to reach the viewing platform, testing the handrail before he leaned on it. Leon heard an exclamation as he drew alongside.

The surface of the river was only a couple of feet below the deck, swirling madly around the struts that supported the viewing platform. All kinds of debris was being swept along: branches and fence posts and a tangle of barbed wire, a yellow plastic bollard, a wheel that might have come from a motorcycle; then a dead seagull, dirty white and crumpled like an old pillow, twisting helplessly in the current.

Cadwell turned to Leon, rain coursing down his face. ‘You need
to evacuate. If the water gets much higher, the whole house could collapse.’

As if to emphasise the point, there was a ferocious rending noise from further down the hillside. The upper reaches of a tree shivered and disappeared from sight.

‘Gonna be a lot of damage downstream,’ Leon said. But he didn’t sound – or feel – the least bit concerned.

Cadwell started to move away. Leon put a hand on his arm. ‘There wasn’t a tape.’

‘What?’ Disbelief, or maybe Cadwell hadn’t heard him over the raging water.

‘There wasn’t a tape,’ Leon said again. ‘I put a camera in, but it didn’t work. I had a good idea what you were up to, so I blagged it. And because you found the camera, you believed it.’

Cadwell was incredulous. ‘It’s all been a bluff?’

‘Yep. I’ve got nothing on you. Never have had.’

‘But now I’ve—’ Cadwell fell silent as it dawned on him that Leon shouldn’t be admitting to this. Shouldn’t be handing him such an easy advantage …

The funeral director was a big man, about four inches taller than Leon and probably a couple of stone lighter, but he wasn’t in good shape. Too keen on his rich foods, his fine wines and his single malts and his Cuban cigars; he never took any kind of exercise.

Leon, on the other hand, was plumper but also stronger and fitter. Younger. More determined.

And, when it came down to it, a lot more ruthless.

Leon’s punch was fast and powerful, low into Cadwell’s gut. The older man had no defence. Winded, he clutched his stomach, tried to breathe and made a desperate
uhuhuh
noise while Leon grabbed him with both hands and rammed him against the guard rail. It splintered but didn’t give way.

Cadwell finally found the breath to scream, a thin, hoarse noise easily lost in the storm. His arms batted at Leon, but there wasn’t
much strength in them. Leon ducked, got Cadwell by the legs and flipped him over the rail.

One second Cadwell was there: a rival, a traitor, a threat. The next second he was gone, lost to the muddy swirling water. A tragic victim of the flood.

And probably not the last.

The water restored Jenny to life, as though she’d been reduced to some kind of freeze-dried powder: now the addition of moisture gave her substance and strength once more. She could almost feel her body’s cells swelling, her blood flowing faster, the normal functions restarting, gearing up for a prolonged survival.

Hope bloomed, like a flower in the desert.

And then she had drunk her fill, but the water kept coming. Now strong enough to sit up, she was leaning with one hand on the floor when she felt the water tickle her skin.

It took her some time to process the information, for the flower to wither and die. She didn’t know how long, precisely, but it was equivalent to the time it took for a thin membrane of water to spread around her body and cover the floor of her cell.

Jenny shivered. The temperature, which had remained constant throughout her captivity, seemed to be rapidly falling away. She grasped the fact that her environment was changing, becoming more hostile. She had to respond in some way.

First she groped for the broken torch, switched it on and off several times, but nothing was going to restore it to life. The pinprick of light from the hole in the outer wall made no appreciable difference to the illumination in the cell. All she could rely on was her sense of touch.

She felt her way along the bottom of the cell door, and determined that the water was seeping in underneath. The gap seemed very narrow, which struck her as important, even though she didn’t completely understand why.

Jenny moved along to the hole she had made in the wall, where
she had another shock. The lower part of the wall was wet to the touch. When she put her hand through the hole she found water, a couple of inches deep, in the partition.

The noise she’d heard earlier was subtly different. There was still a pounding, pulsing river, but now it also splashed and echoed and dripped; it was the busy, joyous sound of water breaking into new territory, invading tunnels and caves, drowning everything in its path.

As she sat and listened, the water in the partition reached the hole she had made and began to dribble over the lip of sodden plasterboard. At any moment, Jenny realised, these walls might melt away.

If they did, could she escape through the studwork before she drowned in the flood?

Eighty

‘
DID YOU REALLY
kill Reece and Todd?’ Glenn asked. He and Joe were in the Toyota, bumping up the hill away from the shore. With Glenn’s help, Joe had rolled Bruce’s body into the sea. The Range Rover had followed, the tremendous force of the current pulling the vehicle under as though it were a child’s toy.

Despite this, Joe still hadn’t decided if Glenn could be fully trusted. He said nothing.

‘Right vicious bastards, they were,’ Glenn added. ‘I wouldn’t have taken them on. I mean, I know you were a cop once, but that took some doing. You weren’t a secret agent or something, were you?’

Joe snorted. ‘Nope. Just an ordinary plod.’ Before Glenn could speak again, Joe had his own blunt question: ‘Did Leon kill them?’

‘What?’

‘The missing women. Alise’s sister, most recently. I think there were others before her. What did Leon do with them?’

Glenn gave an uneasy laugh, as if he might be in the company of a lunatic. ‘I don’t know if any of that stuff’s true. Like I said, I came out here for Di’s sake. That’s all.’

‘But you must have a gut feeling about him. Tell me: if I searched his house from top to bottom, would I find anything?’

Glenn sighed. ‘The honest truth is that I loved working for Leon, and now I’ve betrayed him, helping you like this. So even if I don’t
end up in jail for whacking Bruce on the head, I haven’t got a bloody clue how I’m going to earn a living.’

They drove on in sullen silence, Joe’s mind trawling through everything he’d seen and heard. He was tormented by the idea that he had enough raw material to find a solution to the puzzle, if he could just catch a glimpse of the design.

Once they crested the hill, the effects of the storm became more apparent. The narrow lanes were flooding fast, the rain washing large quantities of mud into the road. Even the heavy Toyota struggled to get traction at times.

The heater was turned up to the maximum, but Joe didn’t stop shivering until they were descending into Trelennan. Here the roads were littered with wind-blown debris and criss-crossed with streams of flood water. Mini-lakes spread out from drains choked with leaves, and the trees bowed under the weight of the rain pelting down on them.

There was a desolate air to the town, the streets deserted in the early dusk, every door and window tightly shut. A community under siege, huddled down and hoping to ride out the storm.

Diana was ecstatic to see them. Fighting off tears, she threw her arms around Joe, hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe. Then she embraced Glenn, who seemed taken aback by this show of affection.

‘You’re soaked, both of you. Dry off and change before you do anything else.’

Neither of them was about to argue. Joe trudged up to his room on the top floor, stripped off and stood under a scalding-hot shower until he felt human again. He dressed in clean clothes and was back down within ten minutes.

Diana had coffee waiting for him, and there was bread in the toaster. She’d just heard a news report on the local radio.

‘It’s absolute chaos. Trees down, roads blocked. Flood warnings right across the South-West. The police are advising people not to travel unless it’s essential.’

Joe nodded, satisfied that his own objectives fell within that definition.

‘Where’s Glenn?’ he asked.

‘Taking a shower in my room.’ She gave Joe an uncertain smile. ‘I’m so relieved that you’re all right. What happened?’

‘They tried the same tactic they used with Alise. It probably would have worked, if not for you.’

‘And Glenn,’ she pointed out. ‘I gave him an ultimatum. I wanted to see if he was capable of doing the right thing. It turns out that he was.’

Joe glanced at the doorway. ‘I think it would still pay to be cautious there …’

‘Oh, don’t worry, I will. One tiny step at a time.’

Glenn wandered in, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He was wearing a pair of paint-splattered jeans and a denim shirt: old decorating clothes. He accepted a coffee, then joined Joe at the table. Diana brought over the first batch of toast and urged them to tuck in.

Joe said, ‘I want to know if the allegations that Alise made are true.’

Glenn had just picked up a piece of toast. He paused, then took a bite, indicating with a nod that he was composing a reply.

‘I know Leon wanted her to disappear. She was damaging his reputation. Same thing with you,’ he added, waving the half-eaten toast at Joe. ‘Leon’s a businessman, simple as that. Everything I did for him was totally legitimate.’

‘And you never saw any evidence of illegal activity? No money laundering, for instance?’

Glenn raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘I don’t have a clue about money. Doing my own accounts used to send me mental – just ask Ellie.’ He snorted, then gave Diana an apologetic glance. ‘That’s one
of the reasons I went to work for Leon. Anyway, Clive Fenton handles all the financial stuff.’

‘You’re saying Fenton is the brains of the outfit?’

‘In a way. Though you can’t get much past Leon, either.’ Glenn picked up another piece of toast, took a bite and shrugged. ‘Well, not till lately.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘His judgement’s gone haywire. An opportunity came up at the weekend, a chance to make a lot of money. Leon turned it down flat, just ’cause he felt he’d been insulted. Fenton and Cadwell were seriously pissed off. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if they’re hatching a plan to take over.’

Joe considered this. For all Glenn’s apparent candour, there was something that made Joe uneasy, something that didn’t quite ring true.

He said, ‘Would Fenton or Cadwell know what happened to the missing women?’

There was a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of Glenn chewing. Joe looked down at his own plate. He knew he should eat, but he didn’t have much appetite.

Gently, Diana said, ‘Please, Glenn. If you know anything that can help …’

‘I don’t. Not really. But maybe it’s true. They’re a bunch of perverts, all three of them. Me and the others, we joke about it behind their backs.’

‘But it’s not a joke, is it?’ Joe said, struggling to contain his temper. ‘We’re talking about women who might have been abducted and murdered. Now, are you saying that the others are involved? Is Cadwell disposing of the bodies? Is that why Leon’s so sure he won’t be caught?’

Joe saw immediately that he’d struck home. Glenn’s guard dropped, but before he could respond there was a loud bang in the distance.

And the lights went out.

Eighty-One

SOAKED BY THE
rain, Leon dived back into the office and grabbed a fleece, using it to dry off. Fenton had the phone to his ear, waiting impatiently.

‘Signal’s going haywire. When I do get through he doesn’t pick up.’

‘Useless twat.’ Leon glanced at his watch. ‘Isn’t Reece back yet?’

‘I tried him, too. And Bruce’s phone. Nothing.’ Fenton looked from Leon to the veranda doors, then frowned. ‘Where’s Derek?’

‘Derek? Oh, he’s moved on,’ Leon said, his tone light and cheery.

Fenton did the goldfish thing again, then managed a single word: ‘What?’

‘You knew him better than me. Never much of a swimmer, was he?’

Slowly, as if operated by wires, Fenton lowered the phone and collapsed onto the sofa, his face white. It was a full minute before he found his voice.

‘You murdered him?’

Leon tutted. ‘Clive. You know better than that. I’ve no idea what happened to him. Lost in the flood, I suppose.’ He wagged a finger at the fat man. ‘But if it can happen once, it can happen again. You wanna think carefully about that.’

The whole house seemed to exhale, the electrical appliances groaning as they powered down. Plunged into shadow, the room felt instantly
colder, the murky twilight crowding in on them. Without the normal hum of background noise, the rain was louder than ever.

‘Power cut,’ Glenn said.

‘It sounded like an explosion.’ Joe hurried through the hall and ran upstairs. One of the guest bedrooms had views down the hill. He could just make out a lick of flame and a smudge of black smoke coming from a gap between two white stone villas.

When he went back down Diana and Glenn were in the hall, checking the electricity meter in the cupboard under the stairs.

‘Substation’s blown,’ he told them.

‘Oh my God,’ Diana said. ‘I’ll find some candles. Torches.’

A knock on the front door made them all jump. Concerned that Leon might have sent reinforcements, Joe checked the side window and through the frosted glass he saw a single diminutive figure.

Ellie.

He opened the door and ushered her in. She was soaking wet, and possibly crying. Her relief at seeing him turned to apprehension when she spotted Diana and Glenn. For a second Joe thought she was going to bolt. He reached out and took her arm.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Just about. The river’s burst its banks and flooded the High Street. All the shops had to be evacuated. I tried to get home but one of the footbridges has collapsed. I didn’t know …’ She glanced at Diana and shrugged. ‘This was the only place nearby that I could think of.’