‘Yes. It was in one of Olivia’s original statements.’
‘She said she kept seeing him, though. On more than one occasion.’
‘Yet the photos were found in Ralph’s caravan.’ He folds his arms across his chest. ‘And the man with the scar in the white van was never found. Or ever seen again.’
‘Do you think she imagined him or made him up?’
He sits up. ‘Look, I don’t know about that. She obviously believes that’s what she saw.’
‘But you don’t?’ I press.
A flicker of irritation passes across Dale’s face. ‘I didn’t say that. We had to run with what we had. And we had no evidence of this white van or a man with a scar. No other witnesses.’ He holds his hands up. ‘What more can I say?’ His expression softens. ‘Memories can be muddled, especially after a serious accident like Olivia experienced. And now, with these photos found in Ralph’s caravan … well …’ he sighs ‘… it shines a new light on things.’
Maybe he’s right. It’s strange that no one else ever saw him.
We talk a bit longer and I ask him more questions, but Olivia has already covered a lot of it. I stop recording and Dale finishes his coffee.
‘Sorry to go on about the man with the scar,’ I say. ‘Olivia was adamant about it when I spoke to her.’
‘She mentioned it to me in the car too, when I showed her the photos,’ he concedes. ‘But it makes no sense.’ He gets up and takes his mug to the sink, then stands with his back to the counter, his ankles crossed. He has another pair of funky animal socks on, black with pink flamingos. He sees me looking. ‘An old girlfriend bought them for me.’ He laughs. ‘They’re very comfy.’
‘They look it.’
He holds my gaze for a fraction too long, then says, ‘I’m sorry it wasn’t the best interview. There’s still a lot I can’t say. Things that cross over with –’
‘Another case. Yes, you’ve said. You’re just a big tease!’ My cheeks grow hot when I realize what I’ve said.
He lets out a throaty laugh. ‘I’m sorry, I know it’s frustrating. When I can say more I will.’
I’m tempted to push him but I need to keep Dale onside. We spend another ten minutes just talking about Stafferbury, his memories of the town before he left for university, and Tamzin.
‘Did you know Olivia that well?’ I ask, as we walk to the front door and he starts pulling on his coat. ‘No bullshit now. Not like last night.’
‘Hey, it wasn’t all bullshit. I really didn’t know Tamzin’s mates that well. Sometimes I’d go to the pub and Tamzin would be there – usually with Katie, Sally and Olivia. Occasionally we’d all sit together and play drinking games. Olivia was probably the quietest but Tamzin could be quite loud.’ He wraps his scarf around his neck and tugs at the ends. He pauses, his hand on the door knob. ‘I never thought I’d be here twenty years later still with no clue as to what happened to them.’
I smile in sympathy. I wonder if it’s shaped him, Tamzin’s disappearance. I can’t imagine my first love going missing. Although my first love was Gavin. And in some ways it feels like he is missing because he’s definitely not the person I fell in love with. I don’t know who he is any more.
‘It haunts me sometimes,’ he says, so quietly I can hardly hear him. ‘Wondering if she was in some kind of trouble. That maybe if I hadn’t gone to university she’d still be here.’
‘You can’t blame yourself, Dale. You were young too.’
‘Guilt. Regret. Uh.’ He shakes his head. ‘Why do we beat ourselves up?’
‘I know that feeling. Gavin leaves me and I’m the one wondering what I did wrong.’ Our eyes meet and there is a definite charge in the air between us. It makes me catch my breath. He opens his mouth to say something but seems to think better of it. ‘I …’ He clears his throat. ‘Well, I should go. Make sure my dad isn’t being led astray by Doris next door. She’s definitely got the hots for him.’
I laugh and our hands brush as I reach for the door handle and open it. A gust of wind blows in just as Dale is about to walk onto the step. And that’s when I see it.
‘Stop!’ I cry, grabbing his arm and pulling him back.
‘What? I don’t –’ And then he notices it too.
Laid out on the concrete step are three dead crows, their necks bent at odd angles as though someone had deliberately laid them there.
And I know there’s no mistaking it this time. It’s a warning.
33
Ornaments
Spread out on the starchy white sheets of Derreck’s four-poster bed Stace saw a cluster of seven or eight Buddha heads, made of smooth mahogany. Not the chubby-cheeked Buddhas she was used to seeing, but sharp-chinned and prominent-nosed. Regal. She could sense John-Paul’s presence behind her, his hot breath on the back of her neck. To her left stood Griff, Trevor and Martin. Identical stance: arms folded, feet shoulder-width apart.
They had been there four days now and in all that time she felt John-Paul was doing everything to avoid being alone with her. When Derreck took them out to show them the sights he would fall into step beside her, informing her about the giant Golden Buddha or the Royal Palace, while John-Paul hung back with Griff and Trev. Despite her doubts about Derreck she couldn’t deny she found him interesting and knowledgeable as well as handsome.
Now Derreck stood over the Buddhas, a serious note in his voice as he relayed again what he wanted them all to do.
‘Nah. I’m out. Mags doesn’t approve,’ said Martin, stepping back. ‘She’s too law-abiding.’
Stace noticed Griff and Trevor exchange glances. ‘Too much of a risk, mate,’ added Griff. Which surprised Stace. She knew he’d bought stolen goods in the pub even though she acknowledged that was less dangerous.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Trevor. ‘I don’t fancy ending up in a Thai jail. Brutal apparently.’
Derreck laughed in that cocksure way of his. ‘You won’t end up in any jail. It’s just a few ornaments. The most you’ll get if you’re caught is a fine.’ He turned his eyes to her and John-Paul. ‘My mate can’t risk applying for a special licence because he knows he’s likely to get turned down. They’re even more strict if the Buddhas aren’t in their true, whole form and …’ he indicated where they lay, macabre without their bodies ‘… well, look at them.’
The other lads shuffled from the room muttering apologies and excuses, and Stace was tempted to do the same. But something held her back. Was it the money? Or was it the hold she felt Derreck had over John-Paul? He had been so excited when he first told her about their trip but now he walked around as though he had a death sentence hanging over him. For the past two nights, unable to sleep, she’d found herself walking down to the terrace and sitting beside Derreck on the sun-loungers, drinking Coke and talking about everything: books they loved – Derreck was surprisingly well read, like her, whereas John-Paul was not – and films. The only subject that appeared to be off limits was John-Paul. Maybe if they did this for the money things might be good between her and John-Paul again. If he didn’t find a job soon he’d have no choice but to leave town.