Liz Gannick is still describing her underground adventure when a new light flares to our east, then another on the western horizon. Eddie swears to himself while my gaze switches to a third fire in the north. The killer is giving a pyrotechnical display for his own private amusement, surrounding us with a circle of flames. It’s impossible to tell whether he’s set a trail of fake explosions, or if one of them has claimed Naomi Vine’s life. The killer is so organised, he’s probably used timers again to stay out of reach. My only certainty is that he’s nowhere near the fires that mark the horizon; there’s a chance he’s returned to the scene of his first crime.
‘Let’s go back to Burnt Island. The site’s got a special meaning for him.’
Our progress is slow as we return to Higher Town, and it’s obvious that Gannick is exhausted. I can’t fault her bravery, but once we get back to the Turk’s Head, I pause by the fire doors. This time there’s no need to insist she stands down until morning.
Gannick offers a tired smile. ‘Call me if you want to drop someone down another hole.’
Something catches my eye as Eddie and I march back towards Middle Town. The lights are on in Liam Poldean’s cottage while the other houses are in darkness, and instinct makes me take a detour to his property. The man is fully dressed when he greets us, even though it’s almost three in the morning. He ushers us into his living room, where an old western is playing on his TV screen with black and white cowboys picking fights in a packed saloon. Poldean’s good humour is missing for once, no sign of a smile on his face.
‘You’re up late, Liam.’ I comment.
‘My youngest has got a stomach bug. I’ve run up and down the stairs a dozen times while he pukes his guts up.’
‘Sorry to hear it. Have you seen anyone outside tonight?’
‘I’ve had my hands full, I wasn’t looking.’ He shakes his head blankly.
‘Is your boy okay?’ Eddie asks.
‘He’ll survive. Val told me to give him Calpol and watch his temperature.’
‘You’re sure no one’s been through the village?’ I ask again.
‘Just Sam Helston a few hours back. It looked like he was in a hurry.’
‘Thanks, Liam, that’s helpful.’
His face gathers in concentration. ‘Stan Eden was at the lighthouse earlier, but there’s been no one else.’
My eyes catch on a pair of boots by the front door, glistening with mud. ‘Have you been outside, Liam?’
‘Only to check our flat roof – the wind’s lifted the guttering.’
I have to hide my disappointment when we go back outside. I sense that Poldean would never leave his kids unattended, his calm manner making him an unlikely killer, but it’s frustrating that he’s given no new information. I was hoping the killer might grow reckless enough to take shortcuts through the village, rather than following the paths that wind between fields. I already knew that Sam Helston had been out for a midnight stroll, and that Stan Eden likes to guard the whole island.
I catch sight of the old lighthouse keeper hurrying towards us, clutching two metal cylinders to his chest. Eden looks uncomfortable when we draw level, his white hair making him appear ghostly in the moonlight.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ he splutters. ‘Those fires were as clear as day from the viewing gallery.’
‘Where did they start?’ I ask.
‘Browarth Point, St Warna’s Cove and Tolgillian.’ His gaze meets mine as he raises the flares he’s carrying. ‘I found these outside the lighthouse.’
‘Take them home, please, Stan. It’s not safe outside.’
He shakes his head fiercely. ‘I’ve kept watch here all my life. I won’t stop now.’
There’s no time to argue, so I offer him a duty instead. ‘Can you stand guard by Boy’s Rock? We know he’s been there tonight. Call us if you see anything suspicious.’
The old man hurries away without a backwards glance, still clutching the killer’s latest gift. Eddie and I stand alone in the middle of the village, the time left to find Naomi Vine alive slipping away. I visualise the sculptor in her studio, attractive and defiant, as we jog towards Burnt Island. She struck me as too independent to accept help, despite her nervous temperament. If she’s still alive she’ll be fighting every step of the way. I’m not surprised that Vine made a deep impact on Martin Tolman, but I can’t prove that he’s harmed her for remaining out of reach.
The tide is approaching as we hurry across the sandbar to Burnt Island. I still believe that the killer may return to the original murder scene for his next act of violence. It’s the most beautiful, pristine part of the island, cut off from humanity for most of the night, and it was Alex Rogan’s favourite place for stargazing. I understand why he loved it so much when we reach the peak. The sea has finally calmed and the clouds have blown away, as if the island was the most peaceful place on Earth. Clear silver light spills across the rocky expanse, right down to the shore, but there’s no evidence of the killer. Eddie’s mobile rings just as we’re stepping back onto Blanket Bay, his face tense with concentration. After the call ends he sways on his feet, until I reach out to steady him.
‘What is it, Eddie?’
‘That’s not true. It can’t be.’
‘Take a breath, then explain.’
‘He’s got Lottie.’
My grip on his arm tightens. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Michelle was in bed. He broke the window and grabbed the baby from her cot.’ Eddie’s talking too fast, forgetting to breathe between words.
‘Go and make sure Michelle’s okay. I’ll search the north coast.’
‘I can’t stop, for fuck’s sake.’ His jaw clenches tight before he speaks again. ‘He’s got my daughter.’
‘You’re needed at home; I’ll call you with any news.’
Eddie sets off at sprint towards Lower Town. The news about Lottie has sent a shot of adrenaline through my system: I remember her smell of talcum powder and innocence as I sang her to sleep. Shadow is at my heels as I chase past the Big Pool towards Porth Killier. He barks in protest when I stop to draw breath, as if he’d prefer to carry on splashing through rock pools indefinitely. My own lungs are heaving and the time has come to stop hedging my bets. The sun will rise in a few hours’ time and Naomi Vine’s chances of survival will end, along with those of Eddie’s baby. I can’t keep on pursuing every false lead. I need to find out where they are without any more mistakes.
I run through the list of suspects in my head. Plenty of people on the island dislike change, but few are unhinged enough to steal a two-month-old baby from her cot. Martin Tolman lied about knowing Naomi Vine in the past, but had no clear motive to attack Rogan, or harm a child. The Birdman is still at large, and Sam Helston’s anger could have turned against all newcomers for undermining the traditional farming life of his family. It’s still possible that Steve Tregarron set tonight’s chain of explosions then feigned illness to make himself look innocent. The man’s jealousy may have driven him so far beyond reason, he no longer cares who he hurts.
I’m still considering which suspect to pursue when a thread of light shines in the distance, flickering like a beacon, and my decision’s sealed.