Local Gone Missing(37)



When they got to the caravan, they were startled by Pauline throwing open the front door of the big house as they walked past. She was carrying a blue washing-up bowl and looked as surprised as they did. She whooshed the contents over a clump of weeds at the side of the steps.

“Just emptying the water from the leaks,” she said, slamming the door behind her. An overpoweringly rank smell made Elise put her hand to her nose.

“Sorry. My treatment makes me oversensitive.”

“It’s been standing for a while,” Pauline said. “Why are you back?” She didn’t sound friendly anymore.

“I’ve brought those buckets,” Ronnie said. “They’re in the car.”

“Oh, just leave them on the steps.”

“Has there been any word from Charlie?” Elise said as Ronnie wrestled the Mini’s boot open. “It’s been more than two days. . . .”

“I am well aware, but there’s no need for you to concern yourselves in my business any further,” Pauline snapped. “I’ve heard from him.”

Both women stared at her.

“Well, that’s good. When?” Elise said.

“This morning. He’s fine,” Pauline said, not looking anyone in the eye.

Elise could see how jangly she was, her mouth pouting and stretching and her hands plucking at her clothes.

“That’s great news!” Ronnie said. “You must be so pleased.”

“But where did he go?” Elise asked, and Pauline’s mouth tightened.

“As I said, it’s really not your concern.”

“For goodness’ sake, Pauline,” Ronnie said. “We’ve been so worried—we’ve been running round trying to find him.”

“I didn’t ask you to. Look, it was just a quick call,” Pauline muttered. “He didn’t say where he was.”

“Have you told the police? They’ll still be looking for him,” Elise said.

“They’ve never looked for him.”

“That’s not true,” Elise said. “They’ve rung the hospitals and . . . well, it would be good to call them. Do you want me to do it?”

“No, thank you,” Pauline said. “I am quite capable of making my own calls. So I’ll say good-bye now.”

Elise and Ronnie stood and watched her retreat into the caravan.

“Right,” Elise said. “Well, I don’t envy Charlie his homecoming. I thought Pauline would be hugely relieved that he’s resurfaced. But she clearly isn’t.”

Nor was Elise if she was honest. She felt completely deflated. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to probing further. She had no excuse now.

“I’m going to walk back,” Elise said. “I need the exercise. It’s only a couple of miles.”

She should have gone back up the drive to the road and through the little car park next door to get on the public footpath but she could see the shapes of people walking past the back of Tall Trees. All she had to do was push her way through some overgrown shrubs. But she quickly realized she’d need a machete to reach it as she tried treading the branches down. She was getting scratched to bits.

She was admitting defeat and turning back when the hairs on her arms suddenly rose. She turned her head slowly from left to right and closed her eyes to focus. It was a smell. A smell once experienced never forgotten—it lingered in your nostrils, clinging to the tiny hairs, embedding itself in the tissues of your throat, and lodging in your brain. Putrescine and cadaverine. Death.

Elise stumbled forward toward the source, pulling her sleeves down over her hands for protection against the brambles. Following her nose. And almost falling down a gaping cellar hatch. She stopped to steady herself but had to pull her T-shirt up over her nose and mouth when she knelt to look down into the darkness.

It’ll be a fox or a badger, she told herself. But it wasn’t. He was there, as she’d known he would be. Lying on his side, his face blackened and the air filled with the frantic buzz of blowflies.





Twenty-eight


MONDAY, AUGUST 26, 2019





Elise


When the Scenes of Crime Officers arrived to start collecting evidence, Caro took Elise aside. “What were you doing here, Elise?”

Elise noted she wasn’t calling her “boss.” She was a civilian here as far as Caro and the team were concerned.

“Look, I tried to ring you earlier to talk about the case but you didn’t answer. I just came to see if Charlie had come back, that’s all. I was worried.”

“He was on my list too,” Caro said.

“Don’t be defensive—of course he was. But you were busy with Ebbing turning into a crime capital. I’ve only been asking a few questions around the place because I saw him on Friday.”

Elise caught a glimpse of someone in the caravan. Pauline was standing motionless in the window. Watching.

“Look, his wife was in a very strange mood when we got here,” she said. “Definitely hostile—and nervous. She said she’d had a call from Charlie this morning, saying he was fine. It didn’t ring true when she said it, and, judging by the state of the body, I’d say it was highly unlikely.”

“Why would she lie? Was she hiding his death?”

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