Chapter Eighteen

Noel Garrard raced across the path to the peak of North Point, a steep ascent over uneven ground. By the time he reached the top, his breath rasped so hard his throat was sore. He had to calm down—he didn’t want anyone to see him and pay attention to his unusual behavior. No chance of that, he thought, looking around. The point was deserted. The wind was stronger here than it had been on the beach. Colder and more biting. The conditions were worsening quickly and there were no tourists or locals about.

His pushed onward. He didn’t want to miss the moment the tide came rushing in to carry away the shitty kid and his faggot dad. It may already be too late. He’d only made it to the safety of the beach himself when the sea cut off the route behind. Another minute and he would have been floundering down there with them.

Except you’re not. He giggled. The look on the kid’s face had been priceless. The utter disbelief and fear he’d shown when threatened with the rock. It was almost as good as the look in that stupid bitch’s eyes when he’d thrown her over the edge a couple of weeks back. Nothing could top that—the split second when comprehension had dawned on her, when she’d realized what he was doing.

Would he ever experience anything as good as that again? It seemed unlikely.

Still, this was better than nothing.

He remembered the impact of the rock as it hit Arnie Walker’s skull, the way it had jarred his wrist and resounded through every part of Noel’s body. Instant hard-on. He was no fag, not like Walker, but something about violence aroused Noel far more than any sexual experience.

The power of taking a life. Of becoming God.

That was the best.

Noel hurried along the point, passing the house where Arnie and the boy had been staying, making sure he kept well out of the range of their CCTV cameras. It wouldn’t do to get caught on film at the exact moment the tenants were washed out to sea. Once they realized the kid and his dad were missing, someone was bound to check every frame of footage, looking for a clue to their disappearance. Noel Garrard wouldn’t be snared so easily.

No, they would never catch him.

Noel was too clever for that. Too wily and smart.

He reached the area where he knew he’d find them and approached the cliff edge with caution. He got on his hands and knees, inching forward through the grass and mud, until he could look right over. The tide had claimed the sandy beach. Ferocious waves battered the rocks, throwing huge white spumes into the air. He was too late. The sea must have taken them already. Fuck.

He scanned the heaving waves for a sign of them. A head bobbing above the water. A corpse lying facedown in the surf. Nothing.

Then he saw movement, directly below. On the rocks. Noel leaned farther over for a better look.

The clever little cunt.

They were directly beneath him. Somehow the boy had dragged his father above the tide line. For now, at least. The waves were coming closer and soon the spot where they lay would be under water. How the hell had he done it? How had a puny kid managed to the shift the weight of a large, unconscious man and drag him to temporary safety? Arnie Walker must be a solid weight at the best of times, let alone when he was wet and out for the count.

The kid had him on his back and looked like he was trying to revive him, shaking his shoulders and crying.

The resentment was crippling. They should have been carried away on the tide by now. Noel gnashed his teeth together, his breath rasping with frustration. What if the man came around?

It won’t do them any good, he told himself. He’d thrown Arnie’s phone into the sea. They had no means of raising the alarm. And no one would hear their cries. The winds were too strong, and with a storm forecast for tonight, the fishing fleet had returned early. There was no chance of an offshore vessel spotting them and radioing the Coastguard for help.

Calm down. It won’t be long. They’ll be dead soon. And you’ll see it. At last, you’ll see.

As he watched, a big wave broke over the rocks, drenching the boy and his father. Not powerful enough to wash them off. Not yet.

The swell deepened and the force of the waves grew stronger with every second.

Noel settled down to watch the proceedings. Things hadn’t gone exactly to plan so far. But surely it was better this way. The boy’s terror must be off the scale by now, knowing he was about to die and there was no one, not even his daddy, who could save him.

Noel bit his top lip and waited for the wave which would take them away.

 

* * * *

 

When he got home from the lifeboat station, Dominic took Brandy for a walk. It was earlier than the dog was used to, but it was shaping up for a nasty afternoon. If he took her for a good walk now, she’d be content to do her business in the garden later. He pulled on his waterproof jacket and took her out on South Point. Brandy lacked enthusiasm and the strengthening wind meant she wanted to turn for home as soon as she’d relieved herself. Dominic didn’t try to dissuade her. The conditions were turning filthy. Tea and maybe a plate of toast were the perfect remedies for such a bleak afternoon.

In the house, he turned on the lamps in the living room and put the kettle on to boil.

It was a shame he couldn’t look forward to another evening with Arnie. Last night had gone so fast. With a little luck, they could repeat it soon. The boy had seemed friendly enough this afternoon. Maybe he could take them both out for burgers or a pizza sometime soon. Father and son. Why not? Just because he had given little thought to children in the past, there was no reason why he couldn’t do it now. He didn’t dislike kids. Other than the groups who came through the lifeboat station, he had no real experience of them. They weren’t something he’d expected to be part of his life. He’d had no urge to be a father himself.

He would have to change that way of thinking if he was going to be with Arnie. Arnie and AJ came as a package and he could not have one without the other.

The idea would take some getting used to.

As the kettle boiled and he made a pot of tea, Dominic decided that if there was no Arnie tonight, he’d settle for the next best thing and find one of his movies or TV shows on Netflix. He sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the tea to brew, and browsed the available titles on his tablet. He’d barely got started when there was an urgent knock at the front door.

Jacob entered without waiting. His overcoat and hat were soaked. As he took them off in the hall, Dominic saw the lines of concern drawn across his face. Jacob hurried through to the kitchen.

“Is something wrong?” Dominic asked. The old man did not look good. His skin was pasty and there was a noticeable tremor in his hands. “Sit down.”

Dominic helped him to a seat and poured a hot cup of tea, adding a heaped spoonful of sugar and a generous glug of milk, just how Jacob liked it. The cup trembled in his hands as Jacob took a sip.

“Are you unwell?” Dominic asked, putting a hand on his forehead. His skin was cold. “Should I call a doctor?”

“No. No, I’m fine. It’s not me. From the way you’re behaving, I take it you haven’t heard the news?”

“What news?”

Jacob took another sip of tea and seemed to steel himself, sitting straighter in the chair, before saying, “Gabriel. He’s dead.”

Dominic heard the words but not their meaning. It took time for what Jacob had said to register. “Gabriel? No. There must be a mistake.”

“There’s not,” Jacob countered. “I was in the town talking to young Cheryl Bratton when we heard. Cheryl has a Saturday job waiting tables at The Lobster Pot. I was there when everyone found out.”

It had the unnatural, distant impression of a dream. Gabriel. Dead. Impossible. Dominic waited for the world to snap back into focus. When it didn’t, he asked, “What happened?”

Jacob stood and poured another cup of tea. He set it in front of Dominic. “Drink this. If you need something stronger, I’ll get it for you afterward.”

“After what? Jacob, what the hell is going on? Tell me what you know.”

Jacob sat down with a sigh. “Dominic, Gabriel has been murdered.”

Dominic stared at him, open-mouthed. “What? How?”

“He didn’t turn up for work this morning, but that wasn’t so unusual. Apparently, he’d often let the manager open on Saturday, then Gabriel would come in later and stay until closing. They said it was rare for him not to be there by one. The staff needed some key that only Gabriel has to access to, so they started calling him. When they didn’t get an answer, the manager, a woman called Jenny, drove over to the house to collect it. She found him in the hall. There was blood everywhere. She said it looked like someone had stabbed him several times. I understand she tried to revive him, but it was hopeless. It must have happened sometime last night and there was nothing she could do by then.”

Dominic heard every word Jacob said, but the disconnection from reality continued. Gabriel murdered. Stabbed to death in his own home. It made no sense. Gabriel didn’t have any enemies. He was well-liked, a popular figure in the local community. There could be no motive to kill him. And yet, he considered everything else happening in Nyemouth right now—the attempted murder of Sandy Costello, and hadn’t someone been stalking Arnie all week? The hooded figure on the CCTV footage. The same guy who attacked Sandy? Could Gabriel’s murder be connected to that? No. That was insane. Paranoid.

But murder. In a small town like this.

Gabriel is dead.

Jesus. In his previous career, Dominic had had many encounters with death. Violent and ugly, it wasn’t something he ever got used to. But with experience, he’d learned how to deal with it. All part of the deal when serving your country.

He did not expect it in civilian life, much less happening to someone he knew well.

“Could it have been a robbery? He might have disturbed a burglar when he got home.”

Jacob swallowed his tea. “Possibly. The police will consider every option. They always do. But…I don’t know. It’s just…”

“What?”

“With everything else that’s gone on around here lately. And now this. It’s…it’s not right. Something doesn’t feel right. I don’t know. I’ve lived here my entire life. Nyemouth has always been a peaceful town. It’s not a violent place. And now there’s been an attempted murder and an actual murder, all in the space of a couple of weeks. There’s something very wrong here.”

Dominic nodded grimly and agreed with every word.

 

* * * *

 

Cold rain lashed against AJ as he tried to revive Arnie. They were already soaked from the sea, which rose higher with every minute. His father showed no sign of coming around. Not one murmur or groan as AJ shook his shoulders and shouted full in his face.

“Dad. Dad, come on. Please. Wake up.”

With a thunderous roar, another wave smashed against the rocks, soaking them with its spume. AJ didn’t notice the cold anymore.

It was hopeless. There was no way his father was going come around. He was breathing, that was something—it meant he wasn’t dead. But he soon will be if we stay here. We both will.

With each crashing wave the sea came higher up to the rocks.

AJ knew they had to move. There wasn’t much farther they could go. Maybe another three yards from where they were to the bottom of the cliff. It was better than nothing. Arnie was a dead weight, a big man without the added burden of his water-logged clothes. AJ steadied himself. He’d done this once already, hauling his lifeless father from the sand onto the rocks to get him out of imminent danger. He could do it again.

He hunkered down beside his father’s head and wriggled his arms beneath him, hooking his elbows into Arnie’s armpits. There was blood in Arnie’s hair, at the back of his skull. Can’t do anything about that now. They had to escape the rising water for as long as possible. With a momentous effort, he heaved. The weight was incredible. Arnie seemed even heavier than before, but nothing could deter him. AJ wrenched again and succeeded in dragging Arnie’s dead weight a couple of precious inches across the rock. With a deep breath he renewed his effort, pulling with every fiber of his being. He gained a few more inches. He could do this. Slowly, and with infinite determination, AJ dragged Arnie from the edge of the rocks to the base of the cliff.

That was it. He could go no farther.

Exhausted and out of breath, AJ knelt beside his father and lifted his head to rest it on his thighs, taking care not to put pressure on the wound. Arnie groaned.

“Dad,” AJ said, hopefully. There was no further response.

AJ was on his own.

He dug into the inside pocket of his jacket and found the small mobile phone his mother had given him. She’d warned him not to tell Arnie about it. It was their secret and she would use it to stay in touch with him when they were apart. The phone hadn’t rung once in the two years since Tara had given it to him, but AJ had held on to it, keeping the battery charged in the hope that his mother would call him sometime.

It was a guilty secret. His father would be mad if he found out he had it. To AJ, it was worth the risk. The phone was the only link he had back to his mother. The single thing that made him hope she still loved him. It was a secret worth keeping. And now it might save their lives.

AJ dialed 9-9-9.

“Hello, emergency,” the operator answered. “Which service do you require?”

“Coastguard,” he shouted. “And hurry, please. We need a lifeboat right now.”

 

* * * *

 

Dominic and Jacob hadn’t moved from the kitchen table. The truth about Gabriel’s murder was slow to sink in. Was it only yesterday that they’d argued in the marina? It seemed like months ago. Years. And the subject of their disagreement—pure bullshit. They were grown men, adults. They should have sorted it out in a mature manner, not sniped at each other like kids and ended their relationship on a bitter note.

The last words they’d said to each other had been spoken in pointless anger.

Rain lashed against the window. The change in weather seemed appropriate, given the sudden shift in circumstances.

“Do you think anyone has told Arnie?” he asked.

Jacob looked up, surprised. Dominic’s voice dragging him back to reality. “I don’t know.”

“They were friends. Best friends when they were kids.”

“It won’t take long for the news to spread. There were enough people around when I heard about it. It will be all over town by now.”

“He shouldn’t hear it through gossip.” Dominic retrieved his phone. Arnie had said he was going to spend the afternoon with AJ. With the boy to distract him, he might not have heard yet. He dialed his number and waited. It went to voicemail. Damn. Dominic left a message asking him to call as soon as he could. He didn’t mention what had happened to Gabriel.

“With any luck, Martin or Elizabeth will get to him first and he won’t hear it second-hand,” Jacob said.

“I still can’t believe it,” Dominic said. “We’re sitting here talking about it, but none of it seems real. How could anyone kill him? And in such a brutal way.”

“Maybe it’s what you said before. He disturbed an intruder. Who knows what goes through the minds of some people? If they’re desperate enough to commit burglary, they could be capable of anything.”

“Gabriel was a fit guy. Healthy and strong. Most opportunistic thieves would run away from a man like that. Not stab him to death. Bastards.”

They sat quietly for a few moments, with just the drumming of the rain on the window to disturb the silence.

Suddenly Dominic’s lifeboat pager, which was clipped to his belt, went off.

Both men leapt to attention, all personal concerns forgotten in that moment.

“Shit,” Jacob said, “What an awful day for a callout.”

Dominic rushed to the front door, grabbing his jacket. “Will you see to the dog and lock up for me?”

Jacob was already on his feet. “Go,” he said. “Don’t worry about this. I’ll sort it. I’ll see you down there.”

Without another word, Dominic ran out of the house and pelted down the rain-soaked road to the station.