Philip’s hand flew to his mouth.
‘Then where is she?’ Will was at breaking point. ‘Where the fuck is she?’
‘Sir, I’m just trying to keep you updated on what we know. I’m sorry it is so upsetting.’ The officer backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
A dreadful hush descended on the room. Will sat by the fire, rocking backwards and forwards. Philip stared blindly into his glass. Sam resumed his seat in front of the picture, and a few moments later, Matt joined him. The only noises to be heard were the clock ticking and the crackle of a log shifting in the grate.
Sam Page said, ‘It’s something to do with certain items she’s included that just don’t fit with the rest of the picture.’
Will and Philip went and looked over his shoulder.
‘That lamp, see? It’s ornate, rather beautiful. What’s it doing in such a filthy setting?’
They squinted, and could just make out the dim outline of part of an old oil lamp that had fallen on its side on the dirty floor of the cellar.
‘That’s it!’ Matt’s sudden exclamation made them all jump. ‘That lamp belonged to Isaac Berridge. It has a particular design on the stand. Look, an anchor with plaited ropes extending down to the base.’ He stared at each of them. ‘But it wasn’t in the old cottage tonight. It was definitely not there. I’d have noticed it. It always sat on the kitchen windowsill. It was a very fine lamp for a poor fen man. My grandmother said he had been given it by a “toff” in exchange for six bottles of his homemade tonic.’
‘So, how on earth could Kate have painted it?’ asked Will.
‘I have no idea,’ breathed Matt.
Will said, ‘Matt, go and look at the other pictures again, there may be something else.’
As his friend turned to go, Philip held up his hand. ‘Wait. Will, didn’t you say that the doctor was sending you a copy of a new painting?’
They all hurried into the hall and Will sat at his PC. After waiting a few minutes for the image to download, they were gazing at Kate’s latest work.
It was simply a dark room, but it seethed with menace. There was nothing obviously gruesome to be seen — no severed limbs, no decomposing body. But you knew that the huddled shape on the filthy floor was a child. That the huge shadow lurking just behind the half-open door was full of malice and evil intent. You could smell the fear.
Matt gripped Will’s arm. Without a word, he pulled him back into the lounge and walked across to where his and Liz’s “welcome to your new home” gift hung in pride of place above the fireplace.
‘Dying Light. I could be wrong, Will, but I think I know where Sophie is.’
They stared at the picture of the cottage and the ancient mill.
‘The mill?’ asked Will. ‘But they searched there, Matt. I heard the crew report in. They said it was dangerous, but they had managed to check it out thoroughly.’
‘Were they locals or men drafted in from other areas?’ asked Matt urgently.
‘No idea. I’ll ask. No, better still, I’ll see if I can find them, and you can talk to them yourself. Matt, what do you know about that old derelict mill that they don’t?’
‘If they’re locals, probably nothing and I’ll have been mistaken. If they are outsiders, a lot. I spent many an idle hour in there when I was a kid, avoiding having to play sport. There’s a lot more to that old mill than meets the eye.’
‘And why do you think Sophie is there?’ Philip asked shakily.
‘Well, if I wanted to conceal someone out here on the fen, I’d choose the mill. Seeing that picture made me remember the old storerooms and the gallery chamber. But it would take an old-timer like me to remember the hidey holes we used to play in.’
‘Forget the crew.’ Will said. ‘We have to get out there, now.’
* * *
Inspector Michael Fenner made them wait until he and Jack Fleet arrived from Grove’s cottage, and then a convoy of cars took off along the lane that circumnavigated Whisper Fen. A wind had got up, blowing away the clouds, and the night sky was a deep indigo blue. Out beyond the marsh could be heard the sound of water rushing on to the boggy fenland shore. The mill was a black hump standing out in stark relief against the moonlit horizon.
The local force, shortly joined by an armed response team, surrounded the ruin. Matt Ballard had asked if there were any older local men among them that he could confer with. Sergeant Charles Palmer was a contemporary of Matt’s, and the two of them worked out how best to search the old building. They knew that the main body of the mill had been scoured, as well as the outbuildings. Two small storerooms had been overlooked, as had the galleried reefing chamber used for servicing and access to the now absent sails.
Staring up at the dark, louring building, Will felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see DCI Charlotte Anders, who had replaced Matt Ballard when he retired. ‘Good to see you here, ma’am.’
Her grip tightened. ‘Hang on in there, Will, we’re all rooting for you. Just because I’ve not been getting my shoes muddy out here doesn’t mean that I haven’t been moving heaven and earth to get her back.’
Will swallowed hard and nodded. Right now, he wished with all his heart that he could turn back the clock and be part of it all again.
Through a loud-hailer, the hollow disembodied voice of Inspector Fenner informed whoever was inside that the mill was surrounded, and they should come out immediately.
An eerie silence ensued. Fenner called again, asking the person, or persons, to identify themselves.
There was no sound but the sighing of the wind. A night bird screeched in the distance.
Several teams of officers were then deployed to search the building. Under instruction from Matt Ballard and Charles Palmer, the men swept into the concealed storerooms. They were empty. This left the chamber, high up in the body of the mill.
‘This won’t be quite so easy.’ Rubbing his chin and frowning, Palmer looked up.
‘Just tell us what to do, Sergeant,’ the officer in charge said. ‘If anyone is up there, they certainly know we’re here. There is no chance of surprising them, so let’s get on with it.’
Matt and Palmer led a group of men to an old scratched and peeling door on the outside of the mill. It opened to reveal an alcove and a flight of steps that led up inside the thick double wall.
Matt whispered to the first man ready to go. ‘Be very careful. The room is a sort of gallery, a wide area called a reefing stage. There used to be a balustrade, but it was rotting away when I was a boy. Now I should think the floor just stops. In fact, the whole thing could have fallen in, so make sure before you step off the staircase that there is a floor at all.’
Three men prepared for the ascent.
‘Go! Go! Go!’
Philip gripped Will’s shoulder. Some time later, a radio crackled into life. Tinny voices shouted something unintelligible, then shouted again.
Will grabbed the Canadian’s arm. ‘What did they say?’
Philip’s mouth worked, but no sound emerged.
Sam turned to Will in amazement. ‘They’ve got her!’
‘Is she . . . ?’
Charlotte Anders moved forward. ‘Fenner! The girl?’
‘We don’t even know if it’s her yet,’ Fenner said. ‘But whoever it is, she’s alive.’