“Are you all right, sir?” the driver said, squatting down and fanning him with his peaked cap.
Toby couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to breathe. He closed his eyes and let himself slump over.
Saul was now shouting. “Oh, my God! What’s wrong with him? Speak to me, Toby!”
The police officer who’d called his name knelt beside the prone figure. “He isn’t a good color,” she announced as she checked his vital signs, then spoke softly and slowly. “Mr. Greene, Toby, I’m DS Brennan. Can you open your eyes? Tell me if you feel any pain anywhere?”
Toby’s eyelids fluttered and he put his hand on his chest. “Can’t breathe,” he wheezed.
“Ambulance, pronto, boss.”
But he could hear the other woman already talking to the 999 switchboard.
“Could you get a blanket or something to make Toby comfortable?” DS Brennan asked Saul, who was buzzing like a wasp in a glass.
Toby knew he didn’t really need a blanket—the sun was beating down on him—but she probably wanted to get rid of his husband for five minutes so he could rest quietly until help arrived. Saul ran inside sobbing. When he came back, he’d brought a throw with the message Cuddle and Chill Blanket scrawled across it.
“It was all I could find. We’ve only got duvets. Oh, Toby! Don’t leave me!”
The ambulance loaded Toby into the back and Saul pleaded to be allowed to go too. The last thing Toby heard before the doors shut was the chauffeur telling the officers they were supposed to be on a flight to Los Angeles.
“Do you think I should follow them to the hospital? I’ve got their bags in the boot.”
“I honestly don’t know,” one of the officers said. “But I don’t think Mr. Greene will be traveling anywhere today.”
Fifty-nine
SATURDAY, AUGUST 31, 2019
Elise
They had to ring the doorbell twice before the door was opened. Elise had dragged Caro with her. “Look, we’ve got a wealthy man who has left his clothes on the beach before disappearing. A bit of a cliché, isn’t it? Perhaps he had money troubles? It’s got to be worth a knock?”
“A quick knock.”
The missing man’s wife was still in her nightclothes and looked like she’d been crying for hours.
“Mrs. Scott-Pennington? Could we come in for a moment?”
“Have you found him?” Janine gasped.
“Not yet, I’m afraid,” Elise said, and watched as her neighbor tried to place her.
“I know you,” Janine spluttered.
“Yes, I live next door. In number five. I’m DI King—I don’t know if you knew I was a police officer. . . . I was so sorry to hear about your husband’s disappearance.”
“I don’t understand,” Janine said. “Kevin’s such a good swimmer. He went in every day. I can’t see how this has happened. I’ve just had to tell his mother.” And she broke down.
Caro helped her to sit.
“We wondered if your husband had been worrying about anything?” Elise said as she pulled out a stool and a notebook. “Anything weighing on his mind?”
“No! Well, he’s been busy with work. He’s organizing the refinancing of a major project at the moment. He’s developing new digital technology for the banking sector.”
“I see. I’m sorry to be blunt, Mrs. Scott-Pennington,” Elise said, “but when you say ‘refinancing,’ are you saying your husband has money problems?”
“He didn’t kill himself,” Janine blurted. “Kevin would never do that. He’d have found a solution.”
“But he did have money worries . . . ?”
Janine drooped in her chair and nodded.
“Does Kevin know Charlie Perry?”
“Charlie Perry?” she shrieked. “Why are you asking that?”
“We understand that Mr. Perry was offering to help people locally with financial advice, talking to people in the Neptune about investing in a scheme. We wondered if your husband was one of them.”
“My husband doesn’t take barroom advice,” Janine snapped. “He’s a professional. A very successful man in his field.”
“Of course. Did he take his phone?”
“No, he left it here. When he went out. He never did that. It was in his hand every waking moment.”
“We just need to see who he was in touch with before he disappeared.”
“Oh, God, he’s been disappearing for weeks,” she said, wiping her eyes with her hands. “It’s been such a tense time. He kept saying he was swimming but his trunks and towel weren’t always wet. I checked. I thought it might be another woman—but who could it possibly be? In Ebbing, for God’s sake?”