Little Girls Tell Tales Page 14

  Dallin looked exactly the sort of person who’d be found skulking outside a police station on a dull Saturday afternoon. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and there was a scowl on his face that would’ve frightened a bulldog.

  ‘When they offered to give me a lift here,’ he said as he opened the rear passenger door of my car, ‘I didn’t realise it was a proper one-way ticket. They couldn’t even give me a bus timetable. Best they could offer was telling me there’s a stop at the end of the road and there’ll probably be a bus sometime this afternoon, if you’re lucky.’ He flung himself into the seat. ‘Thanks for coming to get me.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Cora said. She twisted in her seat to smile at him. ‘Rosalie brought you coffee.’

  Dallin snatched the proffered flask. ‘Alright, I forgive you for hitting me, Rosie.’

  I bristled. ‘Don’t push your luck. If you want forgiveness, you could maybe start with an apology.’

  ‘How did you get on?’ Cora asked Dallin.

  ‘Awful.’ Dallin took the lid off and sipped from the flask. ‘Actually, that’s probably harsh. It went exactly as I expected. They needed a ridiculously long-winded statement, and it’ll likely do no good at all. I thought I might be in trouble for a while, because they wouldn’t believe that I hadn’t been driving. I think I convinced them in the end.’ He took another sip. ‘This coffee is great, though. I know it’s a cliché that police station coffee is so dreadful, but it’s a cliché they really lean into.’

  ‘Did they have any ideas about who might’ve done it? The damage to the tyres, not the coffee.’

  Dallin nodded. ‘Kids. They think it’s kids. Which is a fair enough assumption.’

  ‘You reckon so? Kids, all the way out in the boonies? Looking for a car to vandalise?’

  ‘In the what, sorry?’

  Cora flapped a dismissive hand. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘How’s the car, anyway?’

  ‘Rosalie got the tyres replaced,’ Cora said. ‘Priscilla is back how she was. Better than she was, because now she has a fighting chance of passing her MOT.’

  ‘I’ve got the receipt for you,’ I said to her. ‘Don’t let me forget.’ At the end of the road, I turned left, to wiggle through the back lanes rather than do a three-point turn.

  ‘The police made a big deal of that, by the way,’ Dallin said. He figured out the lid of the thermos could be used as a cup and carefully poured himself a measure of coffee. ‘They reckon we should’ve left the old tyres on the car in case further tests needed to be done. Even though I’d specifically asked them whether we could remove the stupid tyres or not. Complete shambles, the lot of them.’

  His words were harsh but his tone wasn’t. He seemed much more upbeat than he’d been all day. As if the conflict had galvanised him.

  At the next junction, he looked up quickly. ‘You’re taking the mountain road, right?’ he asked.

  The anxiety in his tone made me forget how much he’d upset me recently. ‘Yes,’ I reassured him. ‘Of course.’

  He nodded, relieved. He hated the coast road as much as I did.

  ‘I’ve had a bit of time to think,’ Cora said. ‘I made a list of possible people who might’ve done this. It’s a rather loose and flappy list at the moment, so I’d appreciate if everyone could help me firm up some of my ideas.’

  ‘Um.’ I hated to interrupt. ‘I know everyone’s angry about this. But the police will sort it, okay? That’s pretty much what they do. Someone commits a crime, the police figure it out. That’s how it works.’

  ‘That’s how it’s supposed to work.’ Cora sat forward in her seat. She looked on edge. ‘But suppose for a second we rule out mindless vandalism. What if someone targeted us deliberately?’

  I looked at Dallin in the rear-view mirror. ‘Did you suggest this theory to the police?’ I asked him.

  ‘I raised it, yeah.’

  ‘And what did they say?’

  ‘They asked whether we knew anyone here who didn’t like us.’

  ‘And do you?’

  Cora scowled. ‘We might’ve annoyed someone without even realising it. By, I don’t know, delving into a historical disappearance of a young girl, perhaps?’

  She had a point. I shut my mouth.

  Cora rubbed her forehead with two fingers like she had a headache. ‘Supposing Simone’s body is out in the marshes somewhere. There’s only two real ways she could’ve ended up there. Either some kind of tragic accident, or some kind of intentional act.’

  Dallin leaned forward as far as his seatbelt would allow. ‘You’re talking about murder.’

  ‘I’ve always been talking about murder. Weren’t you listening?’

  I slowed to approach a roundabout. ‘Please sit back properly,’ I said to Dallin. ‘If I have to stop suddenly, you’ll end up in my lap.’

  ‘Wouldn’t want that,’ Dallin muttered, but he did as I asked.

  ‘I know Simone is dead,’ Cora said. ‘Because if she was alive she would’ve contacted me. I thought there was a possibility she’d died in some kind of freak accident in the curraghs, but that was before I saw the place. It’d have to be exceptional circumstances for someone to die of natural causes out there.’

  ‘A woman had a heart attack in Glen Mooar a couple of years ago,’ I said, unhelpfully. ‘She was out walking and keeled over. No one found her till the next day.’

  ‘And how old was she?’

  ‘Eighty-something, I think?’

  ‘Alright, so, freak accidents do happen. But not often to teenagers in good physical health.’ Cora reached to take the coffee flask from Dallin. The motion of the car didn’t impede her. ‘We have to consider someone murdered Simone. That’s not a fun or pretty thing to carry around in our heads, but we can’t ignore it. And, likewise, it might’ve been twenty years ago but that doesn’t mean people don’t remember it.’ She sipped from the flask. ‘Someone knows what happened to her. Someone knows we have an outside chance of finding her body. Ergo, someone has a pretty solid incentive to stop us.’

  ‘That’s a convoluted way of looking at it,’ Dallin said. ‘It’s just a couple of slashed tyres. Not like you woke up with a horse’s head in your bedroll.’

  ‘I tell you what – how about we assume the absolute worst, and if I’m wrong and it was just kids messing about, I’ll buy you a Happy Meal to say sorry. How’s that?’ Cora kept her voice quiet, but I could hear the frustration behind her words. ‘So. Who do we know that was, firstly, on the scene twenty years ago and, secondly, knows we’re there right now today?’

  I turned left at Signpost Corner. There was a postal van ahead of us and I was placing bets whether it would turn into the housing estate or whether we’d be stuck behind it all the way to Ramsey. ‘Dallin was there twenty years ago,’ I offer.

  ‘I was eight,’ Dallin said with a roll of his eyes.

  ‘The woman has a point, though.’ Cora turned so she could face him. ‘You might’ve seen or heard something.’

  Dallin scowled at her. ‘If I had, don’t you think I would’ve said something before now?’

  Cora shrugged and sat back in her seat. ‘All I’m saying is, this needs to be our approach. If Simone came through here, someone must’ve seen her. It’s not a bustling metropolis. Even an eight-year-old might’ve seen more than they realised. Your mother was living here then, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dallin admitted. ‘But we asked her. She didn’t remember anything.’

  That wasn’t strictly true, as I recalled. ‘She said Simone reminded her of someone,’ I said.

  Dallin tutted. ‘She would say that if you showed her a photo of literally anyone. Try it. Show her a picture of some Netflix actor and ask if she saw them in the Co-op last week. I guarantee she’ll say she did. She doesn’t want to admit she’s forgetful.’

  I locked eyes with him in the rear-view mirror. And how exactly would you know that? He hadn’t spoken to his mother in months. Hadn’t visited her in years. Wh
at the hell did he know about what she did or did not remember?

  ‘You should make time to talk to our neighbours,’ Dallin said. ‘Although I doubt they know anything more than Mum. People don’t remember stuff from that long ago.’

  I raised my eyebrows as he referenced ‘our’ neighbours. Did he think the house still somehow belonged to him?

  ‘What about that one who was angry at us for going into the wetlands?’ Cora asked. ‘What was her name?’

  ‘Eloise,’ I said. ‘She was worried you’d trample wildflowers and scare away the nesting birds, that sort of thing. But she’s more the sort to put a passive-aggressive note in the local paper than cut open your tyres. And she’s only lived in her house for a few years. I remember her moving in.’

  Cora had produced a notebook and pen from somewhere. ‘Where’d she live before that?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Somewhere in the south of the island, I think.’

  ‘That’s, what? Twenty miles away? Not very far. I drive further than that to the local hospital.’

  I laughed. ‘It’s not far in normal terms, no. But by Isle of Man standards, it’s a pretty long way. Like, if I was going all the way down to Castletown, I’d make sure to pack some sandwiches. And probably bring my passport.’

  Cora scratched the side of her face. ‘I still don’t think we should rule her out. She might have ties to this area that we don’t know about. Who else did you say lives nearby?’

  ‘Nicole and Patrick are the next nearest. They live at the farm down the road. We’ll drive past on the way back. The farm’s been in their family for generations, so they were definitely here at the time you’re talking about.’ I accelerated as we approached the derestricted signs just past Hillberry. The postal van was still ahead of us, but it speeded up as well. I was glad I wouldn’t be expected to overtake. ‘I spoke to Nicole already. She doesn’t remember Simone.’

  ‘What about Lenny? Where does he live?’

  ‘Up past Jurby. Right on the coast.’

  Cora got out her map and folded it to the correct page. ‘Not far from your house,’ she noted. ‘And you said he visits the area a lot, as a handyman or something, right?’

  Dallin snorted. ‘As a busybody, sure. I wouldn’t believe a word he says, though.’

  Cora ignored him. ‘I definitely want to talk to him. Do you have his number?’

  ‘It’ll be in the phone book.’ I glanced at Dallin. ‘Or we can drop in to see him. Might be a good chance for you to pay back that money you owe, Dal.’

  ‘What?’ Dallin’s head came up. ‘I don’t owe him anything. Who told you that?’

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ I smirked. ‘I must’ve got the wrong end of the stick.’

  Cora tapped her pencil against her teeth. ‘If someone did dump Simone in the curraghs, that doesn’t necessarily point to someone local. In fact, it’s more likely not to be. Someone from a different town, who happened to think of the curraghs as a good place to dispose of a body.’

  Dallin grimaced. ‘How can you talk about your own sister that way?’

  Cora gave him a look. ‘If you don’t want to discuss the fact that my sister was probably murdered in a swamp, then you’re in the wrong car. I’m not going to skirt around the issue for the sake of your sensitivities.’

  I was shaking my head. ‘Why would anyone pick the curraghs? If you had a dead body in your car—’ I glanced at Cora, but given she’d already told Dallin off, I pressed on. ‘If you were driving around and had to dump a body, why go to the curraghs? It’d have to be in the middle of the night, and you’ve seen how difficult it is to walk around there even in daylight. Can you imagine it at night? Carrying a person?’ I shook my head. ‘And there’s always a chance your car would get spotted. Twenty years ago, the curraghs weren’t as popular as they are now, but there’ll always be locals walking their dogs and stuff. It would only take one person to wonder why a strange car was parked up in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘That’s a good point.’ Cora pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘Hadn’t considered that.’

  ‘Also, there’re better places to lose a body.’ I made a gesture intended to encompass the whole island. ‘There’s literally a hundred isolated spots along the coast where you could drop someone into the sea. I could drive you up to a place or two just north of my house which have horrendous riptides.’

  ‘Grim,’ Dallin said. ‘Also, bodies usually wash back up.’

  ‘Not always,’ I said. ‘In certain places the currents push bodies back onto beaches, but not many. Sometimes they wash up in Wales; more often they never wash up at all.’

  Cora tilted her head. ‘How on earth do you know that?’

  I hesitated before answering. ‘Beth was interested in that sort of thing. She ran a blog about mistakes she’d spotted in forensic pathology TV shows.’

  ‘Ah,’ Cora said. ‘So, if someone did leave Simone in the curraghs, they’re more likely to be local. Or at least have an extensive knowledge of the area.’

  ‘And it did turn out to be a good place,’ I said. ‘No one’s found her in twenty years. Well, except me, and that was only briefly. It turned out to be an almost ideal spot to hide someone.’

  ‘You’re right about how difficult it is to walk in and out of, though. Can you imagine doing that while carrying someone, in the dark? I wouldn’t like to try it.’ Cora unfolded her map wider. It obstructed my view of the offside wing mirror. ‘Some the pathways are different now than they used to be. I suppose there might’ve been a better path leading in and out of the curraghs. One only a few people knew about. Which brings us back to a local.’ She rubbed her face with both hands. ‘It’s looking more and more likely, isn’t it?’

  ‘Unless it really was an accident,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t believe that.’ Cora let her hands fall onto the spread map. She stared out of the side window at the passing hills, just as she’d done on the way down. ‘Why would she come here? Why here, of all places in the world? Our family don’t know anyone. She had no friends.’

  ‘That you know of.’

  ‘Well, there is that, I suppose.’ Cora gave a very small smile. ‘I guess I don’t really know anything about her. But, I mean, she never spoke about the Island, or mentioned any friends who’d moved away that she really missed. The only time I remember her mentioning this place was when she told me the Isle of Man was a made-up place.’ She laughed to herself. ‘Somewhere we banished men who’d, I don’t know, annoyed us excessively. I was a bit sad when I found out it was real.’

  ‘Sorry to disappoint,’ I said with a smile.

  ‘It’s okay. There’re worse places to be hypothetically banished to.’ She picked up her notebook again. ‘When we talk about “locals”, what sort of area does that cover? Is it just people who are right on your doorstep? Or within, say, a mile?’

  I had to think about that. ‘When I got lost in the curraghs, Mum phoned her neighbours and they spread the word. More than a dozen people turned up to look for me. I think a few came from Ramsey and Kirk Michael. So I guess that’s the sort of area I’m thinking of.’

  ‘How many miles is that, do you reckon? About seven?’

  ‘At most, sure.’

  There was a certain amount of rustling as Cora refolded the map to a different page.

  ‘Do you really have to do that now?’ Dallin asked. He swatted at a flappy fold of map to get it out of his face. ‘You’re going to cause a crash. Can’t it wait until we get back to the house?’

  ‘Who said we’re going to Rosalie’s house?’ Cora said. ‘I’m going back to the curraghs.’

  I glanced at her. ‘To carry on searching?’

  ‘Don’t you think we should call it a day?’ Dallin suggested. ‘We’ve had quite a lot of excitement already.’

  ‘I’m already way behind schedule. I’ve lost half a day today, plus the time I lost yesterday. I factored in some wiggle room, but I’ve used almost all of that already. If I don’t get back out and keep searching
, I’ll never cover all the ground this week.’

  Dallin chose his words carefully before answering. ‘I know you don’t like to change a plan once it’s underway. But you have to admit, this all sounded much simpler when we were planning it online.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that? I didn’t for a second think how exhausting it’d be. Physically and mentally. I mean … I’m exhausted.’ Cora let out a shaky breath; the only outward sign of the stress she was under. ‘It’s really taken it out of me. Walking around, knowing Simone might’ve walked the same route … can you imagine what it’d be like, to be lost and alone out there?’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘I can feel her haunting us. Every time we set foot out there, I feel like she’s next to us.’

  None of us said anything for several minutes. Cora folded her map and flipped closed her notebook. I could almost hear her thinking.

  ‘We did factor in the need to speak to the neighbours,’ Cora said at length. ‘That’s a necessary part of any plan. I could do that this afternoon. Rosalie, would you come with me?’

  ‘Sure. Of course.’

  ‘Thank you. I’d feel better with some moral support.’

  The incident with the car tyres had rattled her, I realised. Someone had reached into her regimented world and made her vulnerable. No wonder she’d reacted so angrily.

  ‘What about me?’ Dallin asked. ‘You got a job for me as well, or can I go back to my tent for a nap?’

  ‘Do you … want a nap?’

  ‘Well, yeah, if it’s an option. I haven’t slept properly in two nights and I’ve spent a very unhappy afternoon talking to the police. Rosalie can introduce you to the neighbours.’

  I hoped Cora wouldn’t talk him out of it. I liked the idea of spending more time with her on my own.

  Cora caught my eye and smiled. I tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed inside me.