“And what about you?” asked Carole. “Did you go straight home?”
Nathan shook his head, still traumatized by the images he had brought back to life. “No. I don’t know what I did really. I was pretty wasted, for a start. I’d drunk most of the bottle of vodka. And I felt terrible about, you know, what’d happened.” He let out a bark of pained laughter. “Or rather what hadn’t happened.”
“So where did you go?”
“I wandered along the beach. I don’t know how long I did that. Just walking back and forth, back and forth, thinking terrible thoughts. You know, I loved Kyra…” there was a naked appeal in his voice, “…but I couldn’t, you know…When it mattered, I couldn’t…”
“So when did you go home?”
“Not till the morning. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but at some point I fell asleep in the dunes…you know, about as far along Fethering Beach as you can go. I felt dreadful, but I’d slept through till after half-past ten. So I started back home.”
“I’m surprised no one saw you at that time of day,” Carole observed.
“I kept off the roads. I didn’t want to be seen. So I was on the beach and then up by the side of the Fether. There’s a way into our back garden from the tow-path. Anyway, by the time I got back to Marine Villas, Uncle Rowley was already there. Mummy had somehow heard about Kyra’s body being found…” Another triumph for the Fethering bush telegraph, thought Carole. “And Mummy had called Uncle Rowley and – ”
“What did your father do?”
“He did what he always did – waited for Uncle Rowley to come and make the decisions.” He said the words with resignation rather than contempt.
“Anyway, as soon as I saw him, Uncle Rowley said I was bound to be the police’s prime suspect because I’d been going out with Kyra and he soon got me to tell him that I had actually been to the salon to see her…”
“Did he ask you what had happened when you were there?”
“No, he’d already made his plans that I should lie low at Treboddick. As soon as I’d got my stuff together, we drove off.”
Carole and Jude exchanged looks. As alibis went, Nathan Locke’s was not of the greatest. Poor boy, he wasn’t going to have an easy time when they handed him over to the police. Neither of them believed that he had strangled Kyra Bartos, but the circumstantial evidence was against him. It had become even more imperative that they should find out who had really committed the murder.
Carole and Jude knew it would be late when they got back to West Sussex, but no one suggested breaking the journey, except for a brief stop and a taste-free Little Chef meal. Though none of the Lockes had any power to identify or stop the Renault on its way, the two women still wanted to get home as soon as possible. In both of their minds suspicions of Rowley were developing apace, though they knew they should not share such ideas with his nephew.
They outlined what they proposed to do, and Nathan was docile in his agreement to their plan. They would take him to the police station in Littlehampton, from which the investigation into Kyra Bartos’s murder was being coordinated.
Jude said he could use her mobile if he wanted to call his parents to tell them he was all right, but he declined the offer. Arnold and Eithne Locke had presumably heard by now from Mopsa about their son’s escape from the Wheal Chamber at Treboddick, and if he didn’t want to talk to them, then that was his decision. The only person who’d seemed genuinely worried about the boy was Bridget Locke, and Jude decided she’d give the woman a call first thing in the morning. For the rest of his family, the longer they stewed in their own juice the better.
Before he got out of the car in Littlehampton, they wished Nathan luck. He looked very young as they deposited him outside the police station. They watched him go inside and then drove on the few miles to Fethering. No need for them to get involved at this point. There was plenty for the detectives to ask Nathan Locke about without Carole or Jude’s names being mentioned. They thought he might need the luck they had wished him.
Thirty-One
When she got back to High Tor, Carole found a message on her answering machine. It was, predictably enough, from Rowley Locke.
Although by now the small hours of the morning, she immediately phoned Jude and they ended up opening a bottle of wine in the sitting room of Woodside Cottage.
“So what did Rowley say?” asked Jude as she poured Chardonnay into two glasses. “Is he furious?”
“I’m pretty sure he is, but the message is a bit tentative. You see, he’s only got Mopsa’s description to go by, so he’s not absolutely certain that we were Jenny and…” The name wouldn’t come.
“Cindy.”
“Yes,” said Carole with distaste. “So he’s not accusing me of anything. All he’s saying is that he’s had some news on the whereabouts of Nathan, and he’d like to tell me about it.”
“Did he sound relieved?”
“Yes, he did quite a good impression of the concerned uncle. He said that Arnold and Eithne were ecstatic to have news of the boy.”
“So he wants you to ring him?”
“Yes, ‘ring and fix to meet up’ was how he put it.”
Jude pursed her full lips. “Could be risky. I mean, I’m sure Rowley Locke has worked out that we were the two women who went to Treboddick…and if he is actually the murderer…”
“But do you think he is?”
“I’m not sure. It would explain why he wanted Nathan kept out of the way. So that the boy remained the number one suspect.”
“A more charitable view would be that he was just trying to protect his nephew…if he wasn’t the murderer himself, but he thought that Nathan was.”
Jude had the nerve to say, “Unlike you to take the charitable view,” and Carole had the grace to smile. “I’ve got to see Rowley,” she said. “Got to find out what on earth he’s up to.”
“Mmm.” Jude took a thoughtful sip from her wine. “Incidentally, I did believe everything Nathan told us. Did you?”
“Oh yes. A boy of that age isn’t going to make up that business about the sex…” Carole looked embarrassed, “…you know, not working.”
“No. Poor kid. Poor kid on many counts.”
“So…I’ll ring Rowley in the morning.”
“I think if you do fix to meet him…”
“Yes?”
“…you should insist that I come too.”
“Safety in numbers?”
“That’s it.” Jude suddenly raised her glass. “To us. I think we’ve had a really good day today.”
“Found Nathan and freed him. Yes, not bad.”
“Now he’s back in circulation, it’s going to open the whole case up.”
“For the police certainly.”
“And for us too, Carole. We’ll soon have a solution. I can feel the tumblers in the lock slotting into position.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
This optimistic feeling was reinforced for Jude the next morning when she had a call from Wally Grenston. After greetings and a few lavish compliments (Mim was clearly not in the room), he said, “Told you old Joe Bartos was thinking of going to the Czech Club on Wednesday…?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I saw him there.”
“Did you tell him I wanted to talk to him?”
“I did, yes.”
“Did he agree?”
“No, he didn’t.” Jude was suitably cast down, but Wally, playing his narration at his own pace, continued, “I’ve just had a call from him this morning, though…”