The lock was old and stiff. He would never be able to pick it. The only way in was from the outside. He knew the long floor-to-ceiling window did not open, but there was a smaller window next to it with a sill. He had noticed earlier that it was on the latch.
Looking up, he remembered promising to clean the windows this week. Now seemed an excellent time to start.
From his vantage point at the top of the ladder, he looked out at Whisper Fen. Here and there the sun, reflected off the dark waters of the lagoons, produced stars that flashed and sparkled. A line of seabirds flew into the marsh on silent wings. How beautiful their new home was. If it weren’t for Kate’s obsession with the place, it would indeed be a perfect place to live. With a sigh, he turned his back on the view and began to clean the window.
Once that was done, he pulled the side window open and stepped in over the sill, keeping his gaze away from the doll. Kate’s studio looked as it always did, tidy and orderly. Her brushes were all clean and arranged in pots according to size. Fresh pads, books and boards were stacked neatly under the benches and her workbench was clear.
But there were a tremendous number of finished canvases stacked with their faces turned towards the wall. Glancing back out of the window, Will pulled round the first one to face him.
He gasped.
It was horrible. Staring back at him was a dark form, indistinct except for a pair of pale hollow eyes with yellow irises. It seemed to be leaving a cellar by way of some steep and rotting stairs. Will swallowed hard. Beneath its arm, tucked in close and almost hidden in its pitchy vestments, it carried a child. All that could be seen of it was a white arm and hand, chubby fingers grasping a teddy bear, and a slight glint from a lock of golden hair that fell over the partially concealed shoulder.
Where did this nightmare of a painting come from? Will thought of Kate’s fairy pictures — so full of light, vivid with life and colour. Now this monstrosity, oozing decay and evil intent. What was going on in her mind?
With a beating heart and full of trepidation, he began to take out the others. They were all similar to that first one, and each featured a dead child.
He ran back to the window and climbed out. As he placed a shaking foot on to the first rung of his ladder, he caught sight of the doll. The face, even in the sunlight, wore a sneer, as if it watched him in secret amusement. That look chilled Will to the marrow.
He hurriedly descended the ladder and sat down heavily on the seat that overlooked the fen. The scene had lost its magic. All at once, it had a sinister quality. His wife had told him that she could think better out in the desolate marsh. Well, now he knew what those thoughts were about, and he shuddered.
He had just half risen to go and ring Matt and Liz when he saw Kate’s car swing round the bend in the lane. Wondering how he was going to face her, he realised that she had stopped the car in the tiny layby where the rough path out to the sluice and the far end of Tylers Lane branched off.
Someone got out of the passenger seat, and to his horror the unmistakable figure of Gerald Grove slammed the door and made its way out on to Whisper Fen.
Will’s fear and concern for Kate turned to anger. He had warned her to stay away from Grove, and now she was giving him lifts. It was the final straw.
Seething, he strode towards the car, but his anger melted when he saw her get out. She looked as ghostly as one of her pictures. For the first time, he noticed that she had lost so much weight that her clothes no longer fitted her. She looked at him through dark-rimmed eyes and said forlornly that her trip had not gone well, and please would he make her a cup of tea?
So, without saying a word about her passenger, he took her bags and went inside to boil a kettle.
Kate sat with her fingers wrapped round her mug of tea, tears slowly running down her face. He put his arm around her, and she looked up at him pathetically.
‘There was another child, you know. Another Holland child died here.’
His initial reaction was to shout, shake her out of this nonsense. Instead, he drew his chair closer and calmly asked her to tell him about it.
‘She fell into the well. She used to sit on the wooden cover, which was perfectly strong, so no one ever considered it a dangerous thing to do. Well, one day it gave way under her — or so everyone believed. She was alone at the time, so no one saw what actually happened.’
‘How do you know all this, sweetheart?’ Will asked, keeping his voice steady.
‘I went to see Mrs Holland today, in the nursing home. I had to. I had to know more about Whisper Fen. It has secrets, Will, and we should know what they are. Otherwise they could be dangerous, especially to the people around us.’
It had never crossed Will’s mind that Kate would visit the old woman. ‘How do you mean, Kate? What danger?’
‘Children have no place here, Will. That’s all. You have friends at the police station with children. They mustn’t ever come here, never.’
Once more Will was tempted to shake her. Knowing that this would only drive her away from him, he assented to what she had said. He had no idea how to deal with this. He had to talk to Matt.
Having told him, she seemed much calmer. She went on to tell him that the child had been seven, a tomboy. Her name was Ruth, the only daughter of Mrs Holland’s sister. After a while, he saw her eyelids drooping. She was fighting off sleep.
‘Right, Mrs Stonebridge, you are going upstairs, to spend the rest of the afternoon in bed. Look at you, you’re exhausted.’
Kate got to her feet wearily. ‘Come up with me.’
He took her up to the bedroom and watched her undress. She flopped down on to the bed and slept almost immediately.
Will pulled the curtains, shut the door and tiptoed down the stairs. Outside in the garden, he sat beneath the rowan tree and pulled out his mobile phone. It rang, startling him.
‘Will, I’m not sure how you’re fixed, what with Kate and all that, but I am down at Emilia Swain’s cottage. There’s something here you really need to see,’ Matt said.
‘On my way, Matt. See you in five.’
* * *
Knowing that Kate would probably sleep for hours, Will locked up and jogged down the lane. As soon as he got closer to Emilia’s cottage, he saw why Matt had called.
Emilia’s garden had been wrecked, her precious plants ripped from the soil and trampled. The runner bean sticks had been torn down and snapped in pieces. Even the trees had not escaped the carnage — the lower branches had been snapped off and left to sway in the breeze. Petals from Emilia’s bright flowers lay bruised, trampled to shreds in the mud.
Will stood for a few moments, staring in horror, until Matt came up and stood at his shoulder. ‘Where is Emilia?’ he said.
‘With Liz, back at Cannon Farm. She’s naturally terribly upset, so we took her out of the way. I rang it in as soon as we saw it. It’s gone too far now.’ Matt stared around. ‘This is more than mindless thuggery, isn’t it?’
Will looked at a big terracotta pot, shattered, and the damp potting compost spread over the broken remains of the flowering shrub that had been growing in it. ‘Definitely. Tell me, has Emilia had any more of those threatening notes?’
Matt shook his head. ‘No, and it’s been quiet all week. Liz and I have been keeping a pretty close eye on the place. We were just beginning to think the bastards had called it a day when this happens.’ He exhaled and shook his head angrily. ‘That poor woman. She was away for a couple of nights — left her car with us — and came back to find her beautiful garden totally trashed. I feel responsible, Will. We said we’d watch the place and we failed her.’