Careless in Red (Inspector Lynley, #15)(147)

“And what about Dr. Trahair?” she had asked him sharply.

He hadn’t yet seen her, he said. But then, he hadn’t expected to. He hadn’t actually been keeping an eye open for her, as a matter of fact and if he was being honest. His mind had been on other things. This new situation with the Kernes?

Bea hadn’t wanted to hear about the Kernes, this new situation or otherwise. She didn’t trust Thomas Lynley, and this fact cheesed her off because she wanted to trust him. She needed to trust everyone involved in looking into the death of Santo Kerne, and the fact that she couldn’t made her cut him off abruptly. “Should you see our fair and gamboling Dr. Trahair along the way, you bring her to me,” she said. “Are we clear on that?”

They were clear on that, Lynley assured her.

“And if you’re intent on following up on the Kernes, then do keep in mind she’s part of Santo Kerne’s story as well.”

If the Angarrack girl was to be believed, he noted. Because a woman scorned…

“Oh yes. How true,” she’d declared impatiently, but Bea knew there was some truth in what he was saying: Madlyn Angarrack wasn’t looking any more unsoiled than the rest of them.

Inside LiquidEarth, Bea introduced DS Havers to Jago Reeth, who was sanding the rough edge of fiberglass and resin on one rail of a swallowtail board, which he’d stretched between two sawhorses. These were thickly padded to protect the board’s finish, and Jago was taking care to be gentle with his sanding. An enormous cupboard emanating warmth stood open at one side of the room with additional boards loaded within it, apparently awaiting his attention. LiquidEarth seemed to be having a profitable preseason, and business was continuing to boom, if the noise from the shaping room was anything to go by.

As before, Jago wore a disposable white boiler suit. It masked a lot of the dust that covered his body but none of the dust that covered his hair and his face. Any exposed part of him was white, even his fingers, and his cuticles formed ten Cheshire smiles at the base of his nails.

Jago Reeth asked Bea if she wanted Lew or himself this time round. She said she wanted them both but her conversation with Mr. Angarrack could wait a bit, so as to allow her to talk to Jago alone.

The old bloke didn’t appear disconcerted by the idea of the police wanting to talk to him, alone or otherwise. He did say he thought he’d told them all he knew about the Santo-and-Madlyn affair, but Bea informed him pleasantly that she generally liked to make that determination herself. He gave her a look, but he made no comment other than to tell her he would go on with his sanding if that wasn’t a problem.

It wasn’t, Bea assured him. As she spoke, the noise from the shaping room died. Bea thought Lew Angarrack would join them, then, but he remained within.

She asked Jago Reeth what he could tell her about his Defender being in the vicinity of Santo Kerne’s fall on the day of his death. As she spoke, DS Havers did her bit with notebook and pencil.

Jago stopped sanding, glanced at Havers, then cocked his head as if he was evaluating Bea’s question. “Vicinity?” he asked. “Of Polcare Cove? Not hardly, I don’t reckon.”

“Your car was seen in Alsperyl,” Bea told him.

“You count that as near? Alsperyl might be near like the crow flies, but it’s miles and miles by car.”

“A walk along the cliffs would take you from Alsperyl to Polcare Cove easily enough, Mr. Reeth. Even at your age.”

“Seen on the cliff top, was I?”

“I’m not saying you were. But the fact of your Defender being even remotely in the area where Santo Kerne met his death…You can understand my curiosity, I hope.”

“Hedra’s Hut,” he said.

“Who’s what?” Sergeant Havers asked the question. Her expression said she thought the term was some sort of expletive peculiar to Cornwall.

“Old wooden shack built into the cliffs,” Jago explained to her. “That’s where I was.”

“May I ask what you were doing there?” Bea said.

Jago seemed to consider the propriety either of her questions or of giving an answer. “Private matter,” he finally said. He applied himself to his sanding again.

“I’ll have to be the one making that decision,” Bea told him.

The door of the shaping room opened and Lew Angarrack came out. As before, he was attired as Jago was, and he had a breathing mask and eyewear slung round his neck. A circular section of skin round his eyes, mouth, and nose looked oddly pink against the white of the rest of him. He and Jago Reeth exchanged an unreadable look.

“Ah. You were in the vicinity of Polcare Cove as well, Mr. Angarrack,” Bea noted in a welcoming manner. She clocked the surprise on Jago Reeth’s face.

“When was this?” Angarrack removed the breathing mask and goggles from round his neck and set them on top of the surfboard that Jago was sanding.

“On the day of Santo Kerne’s fall. Or perhaps better stated, on the day of Santo Kerne’s murder. What were you doing there?”

“I wasn’t there,” he said. “Not in Polcare Cove.”

“I said in the vicinity.”

“Then you’re speaking of Buck’s Haven, which I suppose is arguably in the vicinity. I was surfing.”

A quick look went from Jago to Lew Angarrack. The latter man didn’t seem to notice it.