“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?”
“I don’t know. But that’s what I’d be asking her about.”
“Okay, I’m on it. So did you find out anything else of interest before I speak to her?”
Elise took a deep breath. “Yes, Caro, I did. That’s why I rang you. Charlie was born Charles Williams. He took Pauline’s name when they moved down here—and they are about to have their house repossessed.”
“Right . . .”
“And not necessarily relevant but . . . his daughter from his first marriage was left with life-changing injuries in a botched burglary at Charlie’s home twenty years ago. Really nasty case.”
Elise was doing so well today. Brain clicking into gear. And Caro scribbled it down, trying not to look too impressed.
“Right, thanks. Have you got the daughter’s name?”
It vanished as Caro asked. “Begins with an S—or is it a B? I’ll have to look at my notes. Sorry . . .” Shit. It’s in here somewhere.
“Text me when you’ve remembered. I’ll start looking at his finances—and his real identity.”
“Well, actually, I can give you a steer.” This was starting to get embarrassing but Caro needed to know everything. “I visited his ex-wife and daughter yesterday. I’ll text you the contacts.”