I told her about Wainwright, and the adit we'd found. 'The police are sending down a cave team, but Lucas doesn't think Monk will still be there. Once we'd seen him yesterday he'd have realized we'd find the mine.' That one, at least. From what Lucas said there were plenty of others.
'So that was why he said he'd take us to the graves. He just wanted to get close to the mine so he could escape.' She sounded bitter. 'God, I really made a fool of myself, didn't I?'
'You weren't to know. And there's something else.'
I told her about Terry.
'He's suspended?' Sophie looked stunned 'I'd no idea.'
'There's no reason you should have. By the sound of things he's in denial himself. He's got a drinking problem and his career's on the skids. Simms wants us to let Roper know if we hear from him again, but after what happened to Wainwright I don't think he'd dare.'
'You don't think…'
'What?'
'Nothing. It doesn't matter.'
But I guessed what she'd been about to say. 'You're wondering if Terry had anything to do with Wainwright?'
'I know it's stupid, but with everything else he's done…' She looked scared.
'I can't see it. Terry might have gone off the rails, but there'd be no reason for him to do something like that. Simms might not want to admit it, but I don't think there's any doubt it was Monk.'
Are you sure? I couldn't pretend to know what Terry was capable of any more. But the brutal nature of Wainwright's death, even down to the sputum left contemptuously on the floor, had all the convict's hallmarks.
Which brought me to another problem.
I took a deep breath. 'I think you should reconsider staying somewhere else until this has blown over.'
Sophie's mouth set stubbornly. 'We've already been through this.'
'That was before Wainwright was killed.'
'We don't know for sure that was Monk, and even if it was, why would he want to hurt me? I didn't do anything to him.'
You didn't have to. You're an attractive woman. For a behavioural specialist, she could be obtuse when it suited her.
'All Wainwright did was insult him eight years ago, but he's still dead,' I said, trying hard not to lose my patience. 'We don't know what's driving Monk. Perhaps Terry's right and he's going after anyone from the original search team. But even if he's not you still brought yourself to his attention by writing to him. It isn't worth the risk.'
She was still scared, I could see that. But her chin had come up in the now familiar gesture of defiance.
'It's my decision.'
'Sophie-'
'I told the police the same thing this afternoon. I can look after myself. No one's asking you to stay.'
God, but she could be infuriating. I was almost tempted. My bag was packed, and I was under no illusions as to my chances if Monk did turn up. But I knew I wasn't going to leave her there alone. Not because she was attractive, or even because I was very aware of the spark between us. No, my reason was simpler than that.
We have to be able to live with ourselves.
I sighed. 'I'm not going anywhere.'
She gave me a tired smile. 'Thank you.'
'Just promise me you'll at least think about it.'
'I promise,' she said, and I was forced to settle for that.
Dinner was a vegetable curry, thrown together from what little was left in Sophie's pantry and fridge. The meal was a subdued affair. I was acutely conscious of how isolated we were out there, and despite her bravado I think Sophie was too. The past few days had taken their toll. She insisted the headache she'd mentioned was just tension, but she looked exhausted. When I told her I'd clear up while she went to bed she didn't put up much of a fight.
'If you're sure… Help yourself to whatever you like. There's brandy and whisky in the sitting room.'
I was tired myself, but I knew if I went to bed I'd only lie awake, listening to every creak and bump in the old house. After Sophie had gone upstairs I washed and dried the dishes, then went to hunt down a drink. The whisky was a generic blend, but the brandy turned out to be a fifteen-year-old Armagnac that had hardly been touched.
I poured myself a healthy measure, threw another log into the stove and sank back on to the sofa. I considered turning on the TV for the news, but I doubted there'd be anything about the investigation I didn't already know.
Instead I just sat in the quiet, staring at the flames and listening to their muted crackle. Even without her, Sophie's presence filled the room. Her ceramics stood on the low table, with a couple of larger vases on the floor, and the stripped-pine furniture and rugs had the same unfussy style as she had herself. I could smell a faint trace of her scent on the cushions. I sipped the Armagnac, puzzling again over her stubbornness…
The ringing of the phone woke me. I bolted upright, hastily setting the glass aside. The extension was on a chest of drawers.
I snatched it up before it could ring again, glancing at my watch. Half past two.
No one called at that time for anything good.
'Hello?' There was no answer. Please yourself, I thought irritably, about to hang up. Then I heard a sound down the line. Adenoidal and laboured, the wheeze of someone breathing.
Suddenly I knew it was Monk on the other end.
The hairs on my forearms prickled as they stood up. I found my voice.
'What do you want?'
Nothing. The breathing continued. The moment stretched on, then there was a soft click as the connection was broken.
I realized I'd been holding my own breath. I lowered the handset. The house was silent: I'd answered the phone before it could wake Sophie. I hurried into the kitchen, searching through drawers for a pen and paper before playing back the caller's number and scribbling it down.
From the code it looked like a local landline. I stared at the piece of paper, slowly sliding down from the rush of adrenalin. Dazed, I called Roper and left a message on his voicemail. I'd no proof it was Monk, and an anonymous phone call was hardly going to impress him.
But I knew.
I made sure the front door was still locked and bolted, then went from room to room to check the windows. They seemed old and flimsy. The wooden frames wouldn't keep anyone out, but at least I'd hear if they broke in. I went back into the sitting room and stoked the embers in the stove before adding more kindling and another log. As the flames crawled over it, I closed the stove door and laid the poker within easy reach.
Then I settled down to wait for morning.
Chapter 21
Even though I'd left a message for Roper, he wouldn't have been my first choice of police officer to call. But I didn't have Naysmith's mobile number, and I doubted the SIO would be at his desk in the middle of the night.
I waited until a reasonable hour before trying him, only to be put through to yet another answering service. I briefly explained what had happened and gave Sophie's number rather than trust the poor mobile reception.
Having done all I could, I set about trying to wake myself up. Despite my best intentions, I'd fallen asleep on the sofa as the chorus of birdsong had begun to sound outside. The hour's uneasy rest had left me feeling groggy and put a crick in my neck. Leaving Sophie to sleep, I stood under a hot shower until I began to feel a little more human.
She was in the kitchen, wrapped in a thick towelling bathrobe, when I went downstairs. 'Morning. We're down to cereal today. I really have to go shopping later.'
'Cereal's fine.'
She rubbed her eyes. 'God, I feel wrecked. I bet I look it, too.'
I'd been thinking just the opposite. Even with her sleep-tousled hair and loosely tied bathrobe there was a natural poise to her. She caught me looking.