A girl of about nine or ten with wavy dark hair stood alone on the salt marsh. She wore a T-shirt and faded denim dungarees and was desperately searching for a way out of the marsh to escape the encroaching tide that was already soaking her dirty white trainers.
Unlike the others, it was set in daylight. In this painting, a swirling mist crept across a watery sun, its last rays falling on the pale and terrified face. To Will it was the most frightening of them all.
He had no idea how long he stood gazing at it — probably only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Suddenly he was aware of the phone in his hand and he took a couple of shots of the painting. He replaced it and left the room, locking the door behind him.
He needed air. That last painting had hit him like a punch in the gut. Gasping for breath, he sat down heavily on the wooden seat.
Oh God! The keys! He ran back indoors and placed them back, exactly where they had been. He looked at his watch. They had only been gone for just over thirty minutes but there was no telling when Kate’s nerve might fail. They could be back at any moment and he needed to be found doing an outside job, nowhere near the hall table and those forgotten keys.
He ran out to the garage, dragged out the hose and began to wash the cars, and then to polish them. As the minutes ticked by and there was still no sign of his wife and Matt, he started to relax a bit and began to hoover out her boot. He had moved to the interior of the car and was almost through when his stomach tightened. Something was wrong.
He left the cars and walked around the house, pausing at the seat that overlooked Whisper Fen. It wasn’t the keys, he had replaced them alright, so what on earth was it?
He heard the distant sound of an engine. Whatever it was, Kate would be home in a matter of minutes. It was too late to fix it now.
The sun glistened off the bonnet of Matt’s Toyota as it turned the bend at the end of the lane.
As the car drew up, Will glanced up at the studio window. His gut tied itself into a knot.
The doll.
Remember me?
* * *
The three of them sat around the kitchen table.
‘Amos is a fascinating old boy,’ Matt was saying. ‘His memory is still amazing even at his age.’
That jeering face still haunting him, Will struggled to look pleased and relaxed. Why had he turned it around in the first place? What on earth did he think it was going to do to him?
‘You did okay, did you, sweetheart?’ he asked.
She smiled wearily, saying she was glad she had gone, although it had taken a lot out of her. To his relief, she said she would like to put some of Amos’s recollections straight on to the computer while he made them all a hot drink.
As soon as she had left, he nodded to Matt. ‘Mission accomplished. I’ll send the images as soon as you’re home.’
‘Operation successful?’
‘One hitch. A silly oversight. Fingers crossed that either Kate doesn’t notice, or that I get the chance to rectify it before she does.’ While the kettle boiled noisily, he told his friend about his mistake.
Matt looked perturbed. ‘She showed me that doll when I was in her studio. She thinks it’s beautiful, by the way.’
‘Ugh! It’s disgusting.’
‘I agree, but Kate is totally enamoured of it. Calls it Elizabeth.’
Will was silent. Elizabeth was the name of the stolen Holland child, the one he had tried to keep from Kate. Had she found out about her? Or was it just a coincidence? The copper in Will was deeply suspicious of coincidences.
He made tea, and Matt took Kate hers, joining her at the computer. ‘I’ll go back with you anytime you like, Kate. Perhaps we’ll stay for a bit longer next time, huh? Amos really is a fount of local knowledge and gossip, isn’t he?’
Will joined them and watched Kate’s eyes soften. ‘He’s wonderful. It’ll be easier for me next time, I’m sure. I’m sorry if I seemed a bit on edge, Matt. I think the pressure of work, the deadlines and such, have just worn me down. Add to that the move and the effort I’m putting in to get the house as I want it, and I’m quite exhausted. I might even be becoming a tad agoraphobic.’
Will listened. It hurt him to hear her speak in the singular about all the effort being put into the house. Where did he come in?
‘Thanks for your help with my research, Matt, I really do appreciate it,’ she added.
‘My pleasure, Kate. And Liz’s too. We’re enjoying it. We’ll pass on anything we find, and Liz told me to tell you that should you need anything following up to let her know. She has much more free time than you.’
Kate smiled and yawned. ‘Thank her for me. I might take her up on it soon.’
Matt finished his drink and smiled warmly at Kate. ‘Better go. Your William’s hive of industry outside has reminded me that I promised to clean Liz’s car for her today. Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out, and I’m thrilled that we had such a successful outing.’
Kate smiled at Matt, thanked him again for his help and returned to her frantic typing. Will followed him out, closed the door behind him and walked with him to the car.
‘There are ten of them, Matt. All pretty ghastly, but there is one in particular that struck me. I won’t say which, but I think you’ll know the one I mean when you see them.’
Matt nodded thoughtfully. ‘Look, as soon as I hear back from Laura, I’m going to suggest that you and I have a quiet drink together in the local pub. At least we’ll be able to talk without going through all this cloak-and-dagger rigmarole. And do let me know if she mentions the doll. And if she accuses you of going in there deny it totally. If you are convincing enough, she’ll probably doubt herself. Just brush it away as irrelevant, and whatever you do, don’t make a fuss.’
‘Okay, but I’m not exactly the best liar in the world.’ Will gave him a rueful grin.
‘Then become one, mate. You know how it’s done, you’ve arrested enough of them in your time.’
On his way back to the house, Will couldn’t resist glancing up at her studio window.
The doll was gone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The pub was busy, but Will had managed to secure them a corner table tucked away beside the fireplace.
It was almost a week since Will had broken into Kate’s studio, and he and Matt had finally managed to get away to “sample the local ales.” Will had made it sound as if a couple of the lads from the station would also be there, a sort of boys’ night out. Not that it really mattered what he said. Kate had been snappy and uncommunicative, and he was finding it difficult to get anything out of her other than monosyllables. He could only guess that she knew of his incursion into her territory.
He stared glumly into his beer. ‘She hasn’t actually asked me outright — in a way I wish she would. At least it’d be out in the open then. Anyway, after you brought her back from meeting Amos, and I saw the doll had been moved from the window where I’d left it, I went upstairs and found Kate in her studio with the door open. And the bloody thing was nowhere to be seen. That is, until I went into our bedroom for something and there it was, sitting on the bed. I asked her to put it back in her studio, but she gave me the most withering look and told me it was to stay where it was. I remembered what you had said about keeping everything as calm as possible, so it’s still there. I have managed to get her to put it on a chair beside the bed, so at least I don’t have the hideous thing staring at me all night.’