Lost Voyage Read online

  ‘And you believe everything they say!’

  ‘The police wouldn’t have said it if they didn’t believe it. Why are you so interested? Just who are you?’ she cried, tossing him an exasperated glance.

  He didn’t answer. She gave an irritable sigh and, pointing to a bench on the promenade, said, ‘We’ll talk over there.’ Only when seated with her jacket pulled around her did she answer his question. ‘I started working for Ian last July. Charlie, my son, was four months old. I was keen to get back to work. I thought I’d enjoy being a stay-at-home-mum but I was bored rigid and lonely. Stephen works long hours. He’s a graphic designer for a marketing agency in London.’

  She looked out to sea. Marvik followed her gaze. There were only the seagulls on the shore and a few people hurrying along the promenade as though to get ahead of the rain, which he could see was already falling on the Downs to their right back towards Newhaven from where he had come.

  She continued, ‘I asked Meryl if she would mind looking after Charlie if I found myself a job. She said she’d do so but only one day a week, Thursdays, and I’d have to make arrangements for the other days. My parents live too far away to look after Charlie and they both work full-time so that was out of the question, but I found a good nursery that would take him and I began to look around for a job. I’d worked for an estate agent before I had Charlie but they’ve closed down. Then I thought about Medlowes. I knew they managed the letting of Meryl’s properties. She owns five terraced houses in Eastbourne and three in Newhaven. I used her name to approach Ian and he snapped me up. He soon made me up to manager. I’m bloody good at my job,’ she declared defensively, as though he was about to accuse her of sleeping her way into the position. He didn’t care if she had. ‘Charlie goes to the nursery Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays and Stephen looks after him on Saturdays. I have Sunday and Monday off.’ She pushed her fair hair off her face.

  ‘And the affair? When did that start?’

  ‘Why should I tell you that? It has nothing to do with Ian’s death.’

  He shrugged as though to say please yourself. Besides, she was right. He wasn’t interested in the affair itself, although he did have some questions to ask her regarding it, but he’d come to that later. ‘Did you break the news to Meryl that Ian was dead?’

  She took a breath. ‘Yes. I phoned her on Tuesday after the police had been to see me. I first heard about it on the radio on Tuesday morning as I was coming to work. I didn’t dream it would be Ian. I didn’t even think it would be in one of our properties. The news just said that a man had been found dead in a property in Harold Road. When I got to work the police were waiting for me. It was terrible. I couldn’t believe it. Still can’t in a way. It just seems so incredible.’

  Marvik left a short pause. ‘How did Meryl take the news?’

  ‘She went silent. I thought we’d been cut off. Then she asked me how and where he’d died. I told her what the police had told me – that Ian had been found in the flat of a tenant, Helen Shannon, but they hadn’t said how he had died. The police asked me about Helen Shannon and so did Meryl, but I couldn’t tell either of them anything about her except that she was a Goth and had weird purple hair. The police also asked me about Gavin Yardly, another tenant who worked with Helen Shannon for Ian’s boat-cleaning company. They asked me if I knew where they were and if I had any contact details for them. I said I had no idea where either of them were but I gave them the mobile telephone numbers we had on record and said that was all we had.’

  The police must have tried Helen after she had rung him and after she had switched off her mobile phone, which had remained disabled ever since. They’d be getting no answer, just as the killer had disabled and ditched Gavin’s phone.

  ‘What did Meryl say after that?’

  ‘Nothing. She rang off, but then she can be abrupt to the point of rudeness. You saw me at her house yesterday – you could see what she was like. I didn’t have time to talk to her because I was late for work and Charlie had kept me up half the night. When I collected him she asked me if the police had spoken to me again about Ian. They hadn’t but I said that I’d heard that Gavin Yardly’s body had been found at the bottom of the cliffs not far from where she lived, close to the Birling Gap. She said she already knew that. She was very short with me but then that’s not unusual. She seemed keen to get rid of me as quickly as possible, which suited me fine. Then, last night, Stephen said he found the house empty and the door open. He told me he’d reported it to the police and given them details of her car and a description of her but that they hadn’t seemed very interested. They said it was too early to worry and that she’d probably gone to stay with friends, which is what I told him. The door probably blew open because she didn’t close it properly. She wouldn’t give a toss about Stephen being worried. She wouldn’t have expected him to call round anyway. I don’t know why he did. He only visits her out of duty. That’s not his fault but hers. She’s made it that way.’

  ‘You don’t like her, do you?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ she vehemently declared. ‘And she doesn’t like me either. That’s no skin off my nose. The less I have to do with her the better. And that’s not jealousy talking. I broke off my affair with Ian in December. OK, so I was an idiot. I was flattered by his attention. I felt frumpy and neglected. I needed to know if I was still … well, you know.’ She sniffed and looked down at her high-heeled shoes.

  Marvik thought he did.

  ‘I wouldn’t even bother with her if it wasn’t for Charlie. She doesn’t give a shit about Stephen. She never misses an opportunity to tell him how weak and pathetic he is. I’ve told him to tell her to go to hell but he won’t. I’ve lost count of the times we’ve argued about her.’

  And Stephen discovering his wife had been having an affair with the same man his mother had been shagging while his father was alive wouldn’t have done Stephen’s self-esteem much good either.

  ‘Has she helped you financially?’

  Karen shifted. ‘Well, yes. She gave us the deposit to buy the house, but that was only fair,’ she added, again defensively. ‘Part of it was Stephen’s money anyway from the memorial fund set up after his father died. We’ve had nothing more from her since.’

  ‘What about the life insurance money?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that. She said she’d put Stephen through university and as far as she was concerned he now had to make his own future. She had to look after hers. I said what about your grandson’s future? She told me that was down to me and Stephen.’

  Marvik left a short pause as he swiftly considered this. Perhaps Meryl was just trying to make them forge their own way in life rather than being mean and, when the time came, as Charlie grew older, she would have helped out. But she was under no obligation to do so and if Karen could be believed then Meryl wasn’t close to her son or his family.

  ‘What did the police ask you about Gavin Yardly?’ he asked.

  ‘Just the usual. How long had he been living in the flat? What was he like? Who gave him his references?’

  ‘And you told them what?’

  ‘He took the flat eight weeks ago, and his references from his bank and from two former employers were excellent.’

  ‘You checked them?’

  ‘Well, no. They seemed in order.’ As though justifying her decision, she rather briskly added, ‘He paid the deposit in cash. He was quietly spoken, polite and clean, which is more than some of our tenants are – something of a rarity when letting certain properties. And he was very keen to take the flat even though I thought it would be too big for him. We had others on our books that I thought would suit him better but he was very insistent on having something in Harold Road.’

  Marvik’s ears pricked up at that. ‘He specifically asked for that road?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And is that the only property you manage for Ian Bradshaw in that road?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Marvik felt sure this piec
e of information was significant. But why would Gavin specify that road? Because it was convenient? For what, though? It wasn’t close to the marina where he had worked. Was Ian Bradshaw the reason? He owned other properties in the town though so why hadn’t Gavin specified any one of those?

  ‘Did you tell the police this?’

  ‘No, because I’ve only just remembered it and it’s not important.’

  Marvik watched her brush her hair off her face as she looked out to sea. ‘Have any other tenants insisted on being in that property or that road?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you let any of the other flats in that building shortly before or after Gavin took it?’ Marvik asked, wondering if Gavin’s killer had quickly installed himself there.

  ‘Only the one to that woman, Helen Shannon. I suppose she and Gavin Yardly could have known one another beforehand. She never said and her references seemed in order.’

  ‘What did the police ask you about Ian?’

  ‘When had I seen or heard from him. I told them that I spoke to Ian on Monday when he came into the office but it was only briefly. I had to go out to meet a prospective tenant at a property.’

  ‘Was it usual for him to come into the office?’

  ‘He’d visit occasionally.’

  ‘What did he want on Monday?’

  ‘I don’t know but he returned later that afternoon and went into the safe. I asked if he wanted the keys to any of the properties but he said he was just checking something.’

  Marvik quickly considered this. ‘Are any of the keys missing?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Were they after Ian’s death?’

  ‘No.’

  And none of Bradshaw’s keys on the key ring Marvik had taken from the body had been to Helen’s flat. Karen Landguard’s information meant that Bradshaw could have collected a set of keys for both Helen and Gavin’s flats on Monday morning, had them copied, given a set to his killer and then returned the keys to his office in the afternoon, when Karen had seen him. He could also have given a duplicate key to his boat to the killer because perhaps the plan had been to lure Gavin there or to kill Bradshaw after Helen had left. The killer had returned to Bradshaw’s boat after Marvik had searched it to make sure nothing incriminating had been left on board and had carelessly omitted to relock it. It didn’t sound like the act of this killer, who surely wouldn’t have been so sloppy, but perhaps he had an operative working for him who had been careless or had been disturbed and distracted while on board so that, when Stephen Landguard showed up, the cabin door was unlocked.

  Karen Landguard looked pointedly at her watch. ‘There’s nothing more I can tell you. I must get back.’ She rose.

  They turned back towards the office. Marvik thought it was time to ask her questions regarding her affair. ‘Did Ian mention to you at any time any business associates or friends?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you see him with anyone at his apartment?’

  ‘I never went there.’ She set her lips firmly and glared at him, but a faint flush flooded her face.

  ‘On the boat, then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It was always just the two of you on the boat?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Did he ever talk about his days at sea or any of the men or women he worked with?’

  ‘Only that it bored him to death being stuck out in the ocean for days on end. He didn’t mind it so much when he transferred to the cruise liners; he said it was livelier.’

  And more women to pick and choose from, Marvik thought, both passengers and crew.

  She added, ‘Ian was very lively, good fun. He was also a very good salesman, which is why we have so many landlords on our books and why his other businesses, the yacht brokerage and the boat-cleaning company are doing so well. Ian knows … knew …’ she corrected herself, ‘… a lot of people and he could spin a yarn.’

  Which he had to her and which she’d fallen for. Judging by her slightly sour expression he’d say she was recalling their affair with self-disgust.

  ‘Have you heard of a man called Hugh Stapledon?’ He could see she hadn’t by her blank look. She shook her head. ‘Was Ian flash with his money?’ he asked.

  ‘Not really. He had plenty. He liked to gamble.’

  Marvik recalled seeing the card in his wallet.

  ‘And he liked going out on his boat, to Jersey, France and along the coast. He’d go up to London quite often but I don’t know why.’

  ‘And his property portfolio is quite large?’

  ‘Yes. He owns several properties in Eastbourne and along the coast. He used to buy up large houses that needed renovating, get in a team of builders, do them up as cheaply and as quickly as possible and then let them.’

  He hadn’t bothered doing much renovation on the Harold Road property, thought Marvik, recalling its shabby state. And he was betting the builders had probably been Polish or of Eastern European extraction and therefore employed on the cheap. With Moorcott as Bradshaw’s accountant, Marvik was beginning to wonder if property investment was another of their fraudulent schemes.

  ‘Did Gavin Yardly ask you about Ian Bradshaw or your late father-in-law?’

  She looked bemused at the question. ‘No. Why should he?’

  ‘Did Ian ask you about Gavin or did your mother-in-law mention him before Ian was killed?’

  She halted outside the office, looking perplexed. ‘No.’ Again, she dashed a glance at her watch and at Danny inside the office on the phone.

  Marvik had a couple more questions for her yet. ‘Has Stephen talked about his father either in the past or last night?’

  ‘No. Like I said to you before, the Mary Jo, and Stephen’s father, have always been no-go areas and I’ve no idea why. Now, I must—’

  ‘What’s Stephen’s doing today?’

  ‘Looking after Charlie. He couldn’t go into work. He’s too uptight about Meryl missing. Why? You’re not going to talk to him, are you?’ Her face went rigid with alarm.

  ‘No.’ Not yet, he added silently.

  Marvik let her go and made for Harold Road, curious as to why Gavin had specified he wanted a flat there. He knew the reason that Gavin had been keen to rent a property belonging to Bradshaw and had managed to get a job with him was because Bradshaw was integral to the mystery surrounding the Mary Jo, but why Harold Road specifically?

  He took his time walking the length of the shabby street, studying the properties, not really sure what it would achieve. He saw nothing different from his first visit when he had walked along the length of the street with Helen in the early hours of Tuesday morning. There were some terraced houses interspersed with large decaying Edwardian houses, some shut-up shops with ‘to let’ boards in the grimy windows and junk mail gathering behind the filthy doors, a launderette, a cycle shop, a Chinese takeaway and the modern convenience store with a small car park and the café on the corner of the road.

  The crime-scene police tape had gone, along with the police officers. Marvik glanced up at the window of Helen’s flat. The curtains were drawn. It would probably still be sealed, as would Gavin’s flat on the ground floor, the curtains of which were also drawn across the window. Something nagged at him as he stood there. He couldn’t put his finger on it, though.

  It was clear from what Karen had told him that Bradshaw had been detailed to get a set of keys for the killer and to make sure that Helen was lured to his boat. She wasn’t Bradshaw’s usual type so he was under orders to get her out of the way for a short time. Had Meryl been giving the orders? Had Bradshaw and Meryl hatched the plan with the third person who had made plans of his own, plans that involved Bradshaw’s death and Gavin as the fall guy for it?

  Bradshaw had embellished his part in the scheme by actually making a pass at Helen, probably thinking he might as well satisfy his sexual urges while he was at it and not expecting her to storm off, so his plans had to be changed. He called in and told the killer what had happened. The killer, w
ho all along had intended Bradshaw to be the victim, simply brought his plans forward. Bradshaw had probably been instructed to take Helen back to her flat. And, if he had, Marvik would have read the news that Helen, too, had been found beside Bradshaw with her throat cut. He stiffened at the thought.

  Bradshaw had let himself into the house with his own set of keys after Helen had taken off. The killer, who could have been waiting in Gavin’s flat, followed him upstairs, shut the door behind him and slit Bradshaw’s throat. He planted the bloodstained clothes in Gavin’s flat, then cleared out. The motive for Gavin’s suicide was intact. Only one other person aside from the killer knew it was phoney and that was Meryl Landguard. So she, too, had to be dealt with. But who had she and Bradshaw been in league with? Moorcott? Maybe. Marvik made his way to the railway station and caught a train back to Newhaven and his boat.

  THIRTEEN

  He marked out Moorcott’s boat in the marina, not far from the visitors’ pontoon where his own boat was still the sole occupant. Studying it, he wondered if Gavin Yardly had been held prisoner on it before Moorcott had taken the body by boat to the shore under Bailey’s Hill. Moorcott would have had a lot to lose if Gavin’s findings had come out. But again, Marvik didn’t think Moorcott had the stomach for killing. Meryl Landguard might have, though, and could easily have lured Gavin here with promises of telling him more about the Mary Jo and then drugged his drink. Did Crowder have the results of the autopsy? Marvik was guessing a drug overdose. But he didn’t think Meryl could have slit Bradshaw’s throat and neither could Moorcott. That didn’t mean he wasn’t involved, though. Perhaps there had been four of them in the secret behind the Mary Jo’s disappearance and now only two of them were left, Moorcott and this other unknown person – a killer.

  The royal-blue canvas cover was stretched over the cockpit. Marvik unzipped it and climbed on board. Wherever Meryl Landguard was, Marvik didn’t think she lay dead inside but he’d make sure anyway. He’d also see if there was any evidence to suggest that Gavin Yardly had been here.

  There was no alarm on the boat. At the helm he noted the standard electronic equipment: plotter, radar and so forth. The deck was clean and the cream vinyl upholstery spotless. The door leading down to the main cabin and berths was locked but that didn’t pose a problem. Taking a key ring from the pocket of his jacket, he selected a slim metal device and inserted it between the doorjamb and the lock and, without much exertion, clicked it open. Descending, he noted that the cabin was also well kept.