Page 30 of Worse Than Murder (DCI Matilda Darke Thriller #13)

T he sun is setting over the Lake District.

After the violence of the storm last night, tonight is one of calm.

The sky is clear except for a few whispers of cloud.

As the sun lowers, the sky is lit up in a brilliant red.

The patrons of Nature’s Diner can’t take their eyes from the view out of the sprawling picture windows.

Upstairs, I stand in the living room looking out over the lake. To the left, I can make out the shadowed figures of the North West Underwater Search and Marine Unit still at the scene, lit up by arc lights.

Glass of wine in hand, I take another long swig, as I watch the drama unfold.

I had seen a car. I know it. I’d only seen it for a few seconds.

All I had wanted to do was identify that something was there, then I came back up to the surface for air.

But there is definitely a car on the bed of Lake Windermere. Definitely. Isn’t there?

‘My bloody shoes are killing me,’ Sally says as she bursts into the living room.

‘Where are my flats? I’m sure I left them…

ah, here they are.’ She sits down on the sofa and pulls off her heeled shoes.

‘Nearly three hundred pounds these cost me. I’ve worn them four times and they’ve cut my feet to ribbons every single time.

Phil will go mad when he finds out. I put them through the business.

’ She snorts a laugh. ‘Are they still down there?’

I turn from the window. ‘Sorry?’

‘I asked if the police are still down there.’

‘Yes. They’ve put on the arc lights now.’

‘They must think something’s there, or they’d have gone home by now, especially with the light fading.’

‘Of course, there’s something down there. It’s a car. I know what I saw,’ I say, almost snapping.

‘I’m not doubting you, Mat.’

‘No. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m doubting myself. My head’s all over the place at the moment. I keep trying to remember some of the exercises my therapist back in Sheffield told me about. My mind is blank. It’s just fog in there.’

Sally stands up. New shoes on, she limps over to me and put her arms around me.

I tense up. I hate myself for doing so. ‘You can’t expect to be thinking clearly at the moment.

You’re going through a massive trauma. I was the same when Carl went missing.

Looking back, I can’t remember a single thing of those early days.

Did I eat? Did I sleep? Did I have a shower?

Did I work? It’s all a haze. You need time to come to terms with everything that’s happened.

And it’s going to take longer than a few weeks in the countryside.

Also, getting involved with whatever’s going on out there isn’t going to help you at all. ’

‘I know.’

‘So, why are you standing by the window watching all the action?’

‘Morbid curiosity.’

‘Well, you’re right with morbid. Look, why don’t you come down to the restaurant? You can sit at the end of the bar, drink wine, eat olives and help me wind Phil up about the lack of parking spaces.’

‘It’s tempting.’

A car pulls into the car park. Sally leans forward and looks down to see who has arrived.

‘Good grief, look at the state of her,’ Sally sniggers.

A party of four climb out of a silver Audi and head for the restaurant.

‘I hope that fur’s fake. Who wears a stole these days?

Time to put on my fake smile and tell her she looks gorgeous.

Are you coming to watch me play the role of the sycophant? ’

‘Maybe later.’

Sally kisses me on the cheek and heads for the door.

I look back out at the calm, black lake.

‘There is a car.’

* * *

‘Matilda, that Inspector Forsyth is downstairs to see you,’ Sally says, popping her head around the door to the living room.

I’m on the sofa watching the blank television screen.

I’ve lost all concept of time and have no idea how long I’ve been lying in complete silence.

I crawl off, stand up, and feel the effects of two bottles of wine hit hard.

I wobble. Dusk was setting when I last looked out of the window; now, it’s pitch dark.

‘Should I ask her to come back tomorrow?’

‘No. I’m fine.’

I go over to the mantelpiece and look at my reflection in the mirror above it. I don’t recognise myself. I look like death dug up. Still, it doesn’t matter. I have nobody to impress with a neat hairstyle and perfect makeup. Let Gill Forsyth think what she likes.

‘I’ve put her in the staffroom we use for storage,’ Sally says as we make our way downstairs. ‘I know we can hardly hide all the police cars in the car park, but I don’t want our customers seeing police officers waltz in and out of the dining room.’

‘I’m sorry for all this,’ I say, my words slurring slightly.

‘You’re not to blame. It’s just, why can’t these things happen during regular office hours? Come into the restaurant when you’ve finished. I’ve opened a bottle of Sauvignon by mistake, and it needs drinking.’

‘By mistake?’

‘I was thirsty.’ She winks.

I walk into the staffroom where there is a heavy aroma of onions and herbs. I want to sneeze.

Gill is standing by the window, sipping a glass of water.

‘We’ve found the car,’ Gill says.

I feel a massive weight lift from me. I was beginning to wonder if I had been seeing things.

‘Where?’

‘Where you said it was.’

‘Why didn’t they find it before?’

‘Apparently, the side-scan sonar sends out soundwaves and they bounce off whatever is underwater. The car has been there for so long that it’s thick in mud and algae and the sonar couldn’t penetrate.

They went back out with something called a Proton 4 Magnetometer which is a bit like a very strong metal detector, by all accounts.

It located the car; they sent a diver down to check and that’s when they found it. ’

‘Oh. Good. Nice to know I wasn’t seeing things.’ I try to sound playful and effect a giggle, but the alcohol on an empty stomach heightens how pissed I am.

‘Indeed.’

‘What happens now?’

‘They’ve put down a marker. The light has gone. There’s nothing more we can do tonight. We’ll have a scene guard overnight and Specialised Rescue UK will be out first thing tomorrow to bring the car up.’

‘Right.’

‘Thank you, Matilda,’ Gill says, holding her hand out for me to shake.

I have to focus on her hand, but I manage to find it at the first attempt.

‘You’re welcome,’ I say. Even though I’m half cut, I can recognise the look of a woman who has a bitter taste in her mouth. Thanking me was not something she was relishing.

* * *

Gill Forsyth makes her way down the steps of the restaurant, shivering in the coolness of the night.

The sounds and sights of merriment fade into the background as she walks among the police vehicles and heads for her car.

It has been a long day. She’s tired, hungry, and needs a bath.

At her car, she hears a noise and stops dead in her tracks.

Turning around, she sees someone move quickly around the back of the restaurant.

She opens the front passenger door, leans in, and takes out a torch.

Flicking it on, she points the beam to the side of the building.

‘Hello?’ she calls out. ‘Is there anyone there?’

There’s no reply. A loud burst of laughter comes from the restaurant. She looks up and sees a scene of happiness as a young couple sitting at a table by the window both throw their heads back with huge smiles on their faces.

Gill steps closer to the building. She walks around the corner and points her torch into the woods beyond. There’s nobody there. There had been. She would stake her pension on it. Someone had been watching her.