There was a muffled chuckle from one of the PCs, and the room once again burst into life.
‘Where is the boss lady, Swifty? I thought DCI Anders would be here by now,’ enquired Will hopefully.
‘She’s coordinating things at base. Plus, her and Fenner don’t get on too well.’
Will smiled. ‘Matt, where’s Liz?’
‘She’s gone home, needs a rest. She still gets tired if she does too much.’ Matt looked at him. ‘How are you holding up, mate?’
‘Worried sick. I think I might ring the clinic, just to see how Kate has settled in. Would you get everyone a drink, Matt?’
Will went out to the hall and rang the clinic. He waited for nearly five minutes before hearing Lawrence Hassel’s deep voice.
‘Ah, Mr Stonebridge. Good. Firstly, I am very glad that your wife consented to stay with us. You are aware of how poorly she is?’
Will assured him that he was. He warned the doctor that Kate’s mood swings were pretty spectacular, and he was concerned that at any moment she might choose not to cooperate.
‘I am treading very carefully. At present she seems happy with her room and has spent the afternoon in the occupational therapy department.’
‘Painting?’
‘Yes, Mr Stonebridge. Painting.’
Will waited for the man to go on.
‘Professor Page was kind enough to send me some copies of her recent “dark” work, along with another colleague’s art therapy report. They prepared me somewhat. However . . .’ The psychiatrist seemed to hesitate. ‘I have to admit to being rather shocked by what she produced today. I am unused to seeing evil represented with such technical mastery.’
‘Evil? Isn’t that rather a strong word?’
‘You have seen her work, Mr Stonebridge.’
Will was forced to agree. ‘I am sorry you haven’t seen her earlier pieces. They were so beautiful and sensitive you wouldn’t believe they came from the same brush.’
‘I don’t doubt it, Mr Stonebridge. Her talent is beyond dispute. It’s the subject matter that is so shocking.’
‘Doctor? Would you be able to send me an image of them?’
‘I could, if you really think that’s a good idea.’ He sounded doubtful.
‘If it’s not too much trouble,’ Will insisted.
‘It doesn’t make pleasant viewing, Mr Stonebridge, but I will attend to that straightaway. Now, I had better get back to my patients.’
‘Thank you for your help, Doctor. I really am indebted to you.’
‘Let’s see how we go, shall we? It is very early days yet, but be assured, I will do everything I can for her.’
Will gave him their email address, hung up and switched on the computer. Sam would no doubt be interested to see Kate’s latest tour de force.
Back in the lounge, his visitors were busy quietly discussing the latest turn of events. Before Will could tell him about Kate’s new work, Sam asked if her studio was still locked. He would like to take another look at the dark work. Philip went upstairs with him, leaving Will with Matt and Swifty.
Swifty began at once. ‘Alright. Spill the beans. What’s eating you two?’
Will told him about the room under the garage floor at Little Anchor, and that he believed it to be the reason for the attempts to drive the old lady from her home. He then described how he had come across the torn doll’s dress and the scrap of material from it, and how he believed that his wife had been responsible for wrecking Emilia’s garden.
‘Come off it, Will!’ Matt sounded almost angry. ‘Sure, she’s been acting weird, but vandalism? That piece of material could have got there in any number of different ways.’
‘Matt, it was clean when I picked it up. If it had been there before the garden was destroyed, it would have been muddy, dirty. I am certain it was Kate.’
‘Listen, Will. Before you get your missus locked up,’ Swifty said, ‘we are pretty sure we know who is behind it. That petrol can was purchased by a kid whose father is known to us. He paid cash, but the girl who sold it remembered his flashy trainers and the red and white Adidas T-shirt he was wearing. From her description of the lippy little git, we reckoned it was one of the Hemmings boys. Their dad is a right nasty piece of work, do anything if the price is right. Naturally, half of Fenfleet are willing to swear he was somewhere else on all the dates in question, but we’ve got his number now and we are watching him. A hundred to one it’s him, and I’ve nabbed him with a spray can once before, so now we just need to find out who he’s working for. So, forget what you just told me about Mrs Stonebridge, okay? And I’ll do the same. Let’s get to the bottom of why someone wants the Swain cottage so badly, shall we?’
Relieved, Will nodded. He had needed to hear someone assure him that Kate couldn’t be to blame. ‘Thanks, Swifty. I feel better about it now. I guess I got everything out of perspective.’
‘No problem. Look, I have to get back out there and help with setting up the lights. I’m not far away if you need me, and if I hear any news, I’ll be in here like a shot. Oh yeah, and Gerald Grove will be back home tonight. We are going to be keeping a very close eye on that little shit. Knowing what he was involved in before, I find it very hard not to believe that he’s behind all this in some way.’
‘We feel the same. Just thinking about him gets my back up.’ Will shuddered.
Swifty picked up his cap and left.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about that piece of linen before?’ asked Matt softly.
‘I only realised that it matched when I put that bloody doll in Kate’s bag. I’m sorry, mate. Initially I didn’t have the heart to talk about it at all, then with everything going on, I forgot until a few minutes ago.’
Heavy footsteps on the stairs announced the return of Philip and Sam. The doctor had brought one of Kate’s paintings with him and with great care, propped it up on a side table. Then he dragged over a chair, picked up his brandy and sat facing the picture.
‘I’ve got the same problem as you, Matt. Something is bothering me, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.’
‘Jesus! I hate that!’ said Matt. ‘It’s like the other day when I got clobbered. Something someone said seemed significant, but I couldn’t remember for the life of me what it was. I actually remembered tonight when we found that underground workshop. I was talking to that PC, Debbie, and she commented on what had gone on at Little Anchor. I said that the poor dear would never come back if things continued the way they were. And that was it, that was all it was. It had nothing to do with her being Jewish, nothing to do with neo-Nazis. She was simply being driven out because someone wanted her cottage for some criminal activity. I think the underground room kind of confirms it, don’t you?’
‘Mmm.’ Sam was staring hard at the picture. It was the one depicting a creature descending the stairs into a cellar, clutching a child wrapped up in a bundle.
‘Do you recognise something?’ asked Will.
Philip too was staring at the illustration, horrified that such an abomination could have been created by the same person who had painted Sophie’s birthday picture.
‘Not the place, that’s not it at all, but something is crying out to me, and I don’t know what it is.’