‘Caught a shark?’ she says as they pass the children, glancing at their catch.
‘Crabs,’ one of them says, holding the bucket out for her to see.
Strover looks too, smiling at the young children. At the bottom of the bucket is a modest crab, its shell barely three inches across.
‘Massive, isn’t it,’ another child says. ‘Tried to bite me with its huge claws.’
Kate hears the car first. They are both still in the road, the children on the pavement. And then she’s aware of Strover screaming at her, so loud it’s as if her voice is in her own head.
‘Watch out!’
She spins around to see a car coming up the hill, out of the village, driving too fast. Instead of slowing down, or moving across to the other side of the road, it accelerates, the driver steering directly at her and Strover. Strover moves first, pulling Kate out of the way just in time, but not before Kate gets a look at the driver, who turns to glare at her. It’s the same man, same forehead. Herman.
The car speeds past, its wheels inches from the pavement.
‘Emmet!’ someone shouts from across the street.
‘Get the number plate,’ Strover says as she picks up one of the kids she accidentally knocked over when they jumped onto the pavement.
Kate memorises the plate and the make of the vehicle, a BMW. She’s hopeless with cars and only happens to know it because Jake used to want one when they were at their poorest. In his dreams.
‘Who was that?’ one of the children asks.
‘Just an angry fisherman,’ Kate improvises, her chest tight with adrenaline. She can hardly breathe.
‘Why’s he so angry?’ another child asks.
She tries to calm herself. Her legs have turned to jelly.
‘Because he didn’t catch what he wanted,’ she manages to say, peering again into their bucket to distract herself. As she holds its rim, one of the children looks up at her, aware that her shaking hand is creating ripples in the bucket’s water. She manages a smile, struggling to stop herself being sick. The car tried to run her down, could have killed the children.
‘Must have been jealous of your massive crab,’ she says.
35
Silas
‘Sure the kids are OK?’ Silas asks Strover as he sips on an espresso. The harbour café is full of families in dripping swimwear and sunglasses, the air thick with the smell of sun lotion and salt water.
‘All fine. Apart from the one I squashed,’ Strover says. ‘He’ll live.’
After a long talk with Strover, Kate has gone back to her house, shaken up by the near miss. They’ll call on her on their way out of the village, check again that she’s alright.
Silas was hurrying down the hill when the car sped past. He managed to get its number plate, which tallies with the one that Kate memorised. A minute later, he was with Kate and Strover on the pavement, relieved that no one had been injured.
‘If he knows we’re police, he’ll ditch the car – or lose the number plates,’ he says.
Strover has already called a colleague back at Gablecross, who confirmed that the car had been reported stolen. He then rang through to the Devon and Cornwall Police Control Room, giving them details of the incident.
‘Tasty?’ Strover asks, nodding at a half-eaten tart beside his espresso.
‘Exceptional.’
The Portuguese tart is his reward after the earlier exertions on the coast path. It’s not as if he’s unfit – he’s been going to the gym recently. Strover and Kate are simply fitter.
‘He was driving straight at us,’ Strover says, more sombre now.
‘Trying to scare you? Or kill you?’
‘Her, not me, I hope.’ She pauses. ‘I’m not sure. I think he lost his nerve when he saw all the kids.’
Silas sits back on the metal stool, watching a dad on the beach below dig a speedboat in the sand with his son. He used to do that with Conor, who always squealed with excitement as the incoming tide washed all around him. Will he ever see Conor again? Every force in the country has his details, along with the UK Missing Persons Bureau.
‘That’s three times he’s gone for her,’ Silas says. ‘If we believe Kate’s swimming story.’
‘You don’t believe her?’ Strover asks.
He thinks he does. When he was working alongside Kate, he trusted her with his life. It’s annoying that she didn’t tell him sooner about her visits to the Bluebell, but something else is bothering him. Kate said that the man had spiked her coffee in the harbour café. It was a very specific allegation, quite a leap for her to have made. Particularly as it was before they’d explained that her drink in the pub six months ago might have been spiked too.
Maybe it’s nothing.
‘I believe her now,’ he says.
More than anything, his heart feels heavy, guilt about Kate mixed with anger. He realises he’s been in denial, not quite ready to take Jake’s pub footage seriously. He pushes away his empty plate and stands up. They need to find the driver.
‘And we’ve got a problem,’ he adds.
‘With the boss?’ Strover asks, standing up too.
Silas nods.
‘He won’t like it, us being down here off duty,’ he says. ‘He didn’t like the super-recogniser unit and won’t want to hear anything about Kate. Facial-recognition software is king.’
He starts to walk up the slipway towards the car park.
‘But if we can prove a connection with last week’s trial?’ Strover says, catching up with him.
‘That’s over, as far as he’s concerned. Gang sentenced, job done. Thirty-three years is a result – even made the national press.’
‘So what do we do?’
Silas stops in the middle of the village square to face Strover, glancing around to check that no one is within earshot.
‘We prove a connection with the Proactive Team’s ongoing investigation into county lines. The boss is right behind that one. Can’t get enough of it.’
The targeting of Kate a day after the sentencing makes Silas almost certain that there’s a link between the modern slavery gang that was sent to prison and the new county lines network that’s infiltrating villages around Swindon. He despises drugs, even more so since he’s seen the effects first hand on Conor. And the county lines gangleaders, the ones who groom the kids, some as young as ten, are no better than child molesters.
‘But we still don’t know who sent Jake the footage,’ Strover says as Silas walks on again, faster now, more purposeful. She has to trot to keep up with him.
‘Maybe someone who wants us to know there’s a connection,’ Silas suggests, opening the car doors with the remote.
‘Another gang?’ Strover asks, walking around to the passenger side.
Before Silas can answer, his phone rings. He holds up his hand towards Strover as he takes the call.
‘Thanks,’ he says, after listening for a few moments.
‘That was the insurers,’ he says to Strover. ‘Our friend Jake… seems like he took out a new policy on his boat four days ago.’
36
Kate
‘I need a drink,’ Kate says, frantically opening one kitchen cupboard after another.