THEY FOUND CHARLIE IN THE SEAHORSE, talking to the landlady and a barmaid with a white face and black eyes. The bar was open but quiet. They were sitting in the lounge around the table where Vera had eaten breakfast with Holly and Joe only three days before.
‘Your colleague definitely checked out,’ Di said. ‘I took the payment myself. And her car’s not there.’
‘She was here for lunch.’ That was the Goth. ‘She was asking about a birdwatcher, a guy who was in the bar on Friday night, with Charlotte Thomas and an older woman. I’d thought the three of them were part of the same group, and she was asking if I could have been wrong. He might just have been sharing their table.’ She looked up at them. Vera could tell that she wanted to help. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t see him. Not properly. Only his back.’
‘But you do table service,’ Joe said. He was being very stiff, very formal, trying to hide his fears and control his panic. Vera had seen him act that way before when he was scared of losing it. He and Holly had grown closer during the case. This wasn’t just about a colleague in danger. It was personal. ‘You must have seen him while you were taking the order.’
Linz looked between the detectives and her boss. ‘But it’s only table service for food and that group weren’t eating.’ A pause. She seemed almost close to tears. ‘I wish I could help, but honestly, I can’t remember anything about him.’
‘That’s okay, pet. Not your fault at all.’ Vera could see how everyone had assumed that the strange man sitting with Judith and Charlotte had been known to them. It seemed even more likely now that Judith had been telling the truth.
‘I told Holly I’d put the word out. Ask if any of the regulars or the locals knew who he might be.’ The barmaid’s voice was eager now. ‘And I did!’
‘Did any of them get back to you?’
‘No, but then they wouldn’t. I gave them Holly’s mobile number and told them to contact her direct.’
‘Could you ask again?’ Vera said. ‘See if anyone has been in contact with her. She’s missing and we’re starting to get anxious.’
‘Sure.’ Linz was on her phone already. ‘Sure.’
‘Holly was in the Old Hall this morning.’ Di, the landlady, leaned across the table. ‘I saw her go in at around coffee time.’
Vera nodded. She knew about that visit. Holly had been there to ask about Katherine Willmore’s alibi and it had checked out. If the DC had picked up anything else that was useful there, surely she’d have passed on that information to Vera too. But perhaps something had come to Holly later. A little niggle. An itch. It happened to Vera sometimes during the course of an investigation. And perhaps Holly had gone back to scratch. It was what she would have done and she’d trained all her staff well.
‘I’ll just wander along to the hotel,’ she said, ‘just in case something occurred to her and she went back.’ Not believing that it would help, but needing to move again. Not bearing just to sit here, doing nothing. ‘Joe, you wait here in case she comes back or we get more information. Charlie, you drive around the island. Everywhere. Farm tracks and lanes, private drives. We’re looking for Holly’s car.’ She hesitated, felt in her pocket and held out her keys. ‘Take the Land Rover. That’ll get you down some of the rougher paths.’
Charlie stared at her, astonished by the honour. Nobody was allowed to drive the boss’s vehicle. But he said nothing and he took the keys.
Out in the road, the light had seeped away to nothing. The mist held in the orange glow of the street lamps. Vera had been to the Old Hall once before. She’d been invited to dinner by her smart relative, Elizabeth, as a thank you for finding a killer. She hadn’t really wanted to go, but had accepted the invitation, only because she’d known that Elizabeth had been hoping she’d refuse. Let the old woman pay for a decent meal and endure her company for one evening! Elizabeth had booked to stay the night there. Vera had driven home. One way of making sure she wouldn’t drink too much. She hadn’t wanted Elizabeth thinking she was like Hector, and besides, drink made her argumentative.
She’d decided that there was no point in arguing with an old woman who was seeing her world change and become almost unrecognizable. In the end, it had been a pleasant enough occasion. Elizabeth was used to being courteous to her tenants, and had treated Vera as if she were a farm worker, competent and necessary but not socially her equal. Vera had held her tongue and, when she got home, she’d poured herself a large whisky. She’d drunk a grateful toast to Hector for escaping his family and for making his own way in the world. It was one of the few times she’d ever felt grateful to him.
The Old Hall was busier than she’d been expecting. The lobby opened into the bar, where couples were taking pre-dinner drinks. Everybody was dressed up, very smart in a glitzy, celebratory way, and she was out of place, in her grubby jacket, her mud-spattered boots. She had, in the past, been mistaken for a bag lady. And more recently at Rede’s Tower as a cleaner. A young man in a suit approached her, all smiles. Perhaps he thought she was a rich, eccentric, potential guest.
‘Can I help you, madam?’
Discreetly, she showed him her warrant card. People were already staring, and she didn’t need any more of an audience.
‘Please, come into the office.’
He led her away from public view.
‘My colleague was here this morning.’
‘Ah yes, I was on duty and I spoke to her myself. She asked about one of our regulars.’
‘Katherine Willmore?’
‘Yes, I was able to tell her that Ms Willmore was here. I found a copy of her credit card receipt.’ He smiled. Someone else, Vera thought, needing to be praised just for doing his job.
‘You haven’t seen DC Clarke since then?’
‘No, and I’ve been at the front desk for most of the day.’ The smile crawled over his face again. ‘She asked about another potential guest. A single man. A birdwatcher. I’m afraid I wasn’t able to help with that inquiry.’
‘We’re a little anxious about my officer,’ Vera said. ‘We’ve lost contact with her. Probably nothing. Signal problems or a mislaid phone. There’s nothing else you can tell me?’
She sensed a moment of hesitation, but when she looked at his face, the smile was back in place.
‘I’m sorry, Inspector, I wish I could help. It’s a horrible evening for anyone to get lost.’
She nodded and went outside. In the car park, she took out her torch, and checked all the vehicles, but Holly’s car wasn’t there and she didn’t recognize any of the other registration plates as belonging to witnesses in the case. She made her way back to the Seahorse. But now, she had her own itch, her own need to explore it, to scratch.
In the Seahorse, the lounge was filling up and Linz, Joe and Di had moved to the landlady’s private sitting room on the first floor. It looked out over a courtyard at the back, where empty bottles and kegs were stacked. Inside, heavy red velvet curtains had been drawn against the gloom. A Calor gas heater had just been lit. It gave off little heat as yet, but a considerable smell of fumes. The room had been furnished with cast-off furniture from the bar and one low sofa, with a red velvet throw tucked over it. The effect was that of a junk shop crossed with a traditional curry house and Victorian brothel. Vera found it very comforting.
When Vera was shown in by another member of staff, Linz was talking on the phone. She seemed excited and was talking very fast. Then she listened. ‘When was that? Did you see where she went?’ She switched off her phone and faced the room. ‘That was Tom Cadwallender, one of the local ringers. Nobody he knows had contacted your mate, but they did see her earlier. There was a rarity in a ditch by the lough and they were trying to catch it.’
Vera nodded. ‘In a small mist net?’
‘Yeah!’ Linz eyed the inspector with increased respect. ‘She seemed to think one of them had asked her to meet him. She’d had a text apparently saying he’d be there, but it hadn’t come from one of them.’
‘No name, I suppose?’
Linz shook her head.
Of course not. It would be a trap. Like the mist net catching the bird.
‘Did they see anyone else?’
‘Nah,’ Linz said. ‘One of them thought they heard someone, banging around in the fog, but it could have been anything.’
‘The nearest place to park for the lough is the Pilgrims’ House.’
‘Charlie phoned earlier, boss.’ Joe, still at his most formal, still anxious. ‘He checked for Holly’s car there. No sign of it.’
‘We’ll check ourselves, shall we? Let’s walk, so we don’t miss anything. Holly’s car might not be there, but we might find Holly.’