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- Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
- Kategorie: Krimi
- Sprache: Englisch
Former lawyer Merrin McKenzie has returned to her hometown of St Ives, the stunning coastal town in Cornwall. She has settled back into life there in a lovely cottage, and new friendships are beginning to blossom. An old friend, Jane Faulkner is going through a messy divorce, and her daughter Emily is keen to stay with Merrin, but just three days into the holiday, she disappears. Emily has pushed a note through Merrin's bedroom door to say she is going back home to Bristol but has left behind all of her possessions. It soon becomes clear she is not heading home and the police are notified, but when a ransom demand is made to her parents requesting £500,000 for the girl's safe return, matters take a distinctly sinister turn .
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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To Deets – thank you so much for all your support. Love Mum.6
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
Bristol, 31st March
Emily Faulkner lay on her bed in the foetal position. At only sixteen, she was well used to being told she was very pretty, but she was not feeling at all pretty right now.
Her head throbbed, her eyes stung, her throat was sore and her hair, her lovely hair, normally smooth and silky, felt stringy and damp down one side of her face. All these symptoms were the result of her crying, actually sobbing mostly, for what seemed like hours, and not a single member of her family had come to see if she was alright.
Tears spent at last, she rolled over and lay on her back. The last two days seemed unreal. She couldn’t believe such appalling things could all be heaped upon her in so short a space of time. She tried to clear her mind and put what had happened into degrees of awfulness – beginning with the least awful.
Firstly, yesterday morning, her best friend Grace had left the country with her family. It was to be a permanent move to Toronto, where her father had landed a new job. 8Emily couldn’t imagine when she would be able to see Grace again, or how she could bear life without her – particularly now.
Secondly, after lunch today, her parents had sat down with her and her younger brothers and told their children that they were getting a divorce. There were a lot of reassurances – home and school would be unchanged, and Daddy would come and visit them often. But it was such a shock and clearly her mother was desperately upset, although she tried valiantly to hide it.
Thirdly, there was the other thing that had happened, which she couldn’t let her mind dwell upon – not for more than a second without wanting to be sick with the terror of it all.
CHAPTER ONE
St Ives, 1st April
Very reluctantly, Merrin McKenzie stepped down onto Bamaluz Beach. Moments before, the sun had been shining, the sea and sky melding together in two delightful and complementary shades of blue. Now, apparently out of nowhere, thick clouds were amassing, turning everything – sky, sea and beach – a very unappealing grey. A spiteful little wind was getting up to complete the sudden decline. Merrin’s bare feet, sinking into the sand, were already unacceptably cold and even though she was still wearing her beach robe, she was shivering.
It was over two years now since Merrin had returned to her home town of St Ives, following the murder of her husband, Adam. Growing up so close to the sea, she had always loved swimming, but during her childhood it had been considered a summer pastime. This year, however, she had decided to start her daily swim in April in a bid to get fit, and today was the first of the month.
‘I really am an April Fool, aren’t I?’ she said to her companion, William, a small dog who was not, bless him, 10a thing of beauty and tended to be somewhat grumpy and argumentative. Today, however, he completely agreed with her, and to demonstrate the point, he tentatively put his front paws into the sea and then leapt back, theatrically, as if he’d been stung. Agree he might, but he was not being particularly tactful.
Taking a deep breath, Merrin threw her robe onto a rock and, without hesitation, walked into the sea, jumping over the waves until the water was waist-high. Then she plunged forwards and began to swim. It was always the same. For the first five strokes, she thought she might die; for the second five strokes, she hoped she would … and then miraculously, a feeling of energy and exhilaration took over. It was wonderful!
Under the disapproving gaze of William, Merrin emerged from the sea a few minutes later. Her skin was lobster-coloured and she had absolutely no feeling in any of her extremities. Nonetheless, she experienced a gratifying sense of triumph. She picked up her robe, climbed up the steps and headed back to her cottage, which was only five minutes’ walk away. After a hot shower, she put on a pair of jeans and a baggy multicoloured jumper, the recent purchase of which pleased her very much. She felt she had to make a bit of an effort, as she was having lunch with Chief Inspector Louis Peppiatt. She was looking forward to seeing him – apparently, he had a job for her.
Merrin made breakfast for herself, William and her African Grey parrot, Horatio. She and Horatio shared a piece of toast, while William had his favourite dog food, topped with a small sprinkle of cheese, which he had 11trained Merrin to recognise was essential. She had just poured herself a second mug of coffee when there was a call on her mobile.
‘Hello, Merrin,’ said an unfamiliar voice, ‘it’s Jane.’
Merrin’s mind went completely blank – Jane, Jane who? she thought.
The owner of the voice obviously picked up on Merrin’s silence. ‘Jane Faulkner, Merrin, your barrister friend from Bristol. Come on, it hasn’t been that long, you must remember who I am!’
‘Jane, I’m so sorry,’ said Merrin. ‘I’ve just been swimming and I think the sea was sufficiently cold that it’s frozen my brain. How are you and Edmund and the children?’
‘Swimming in the sea in April, you’re mad!’ Jane paused. ‘Actually, things aren’t great. Edmund and I are getting a divorce.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Jane. Tell me to mind my own business, but why? I always imagined you two had a great marriage. And how are the children taking it?’
‘Edmund’s fallen for his secretary, who’s about half my age, of course. What a cliché! The boys seem to have taken it fairly well, but Emily is really upset. To be honest, I don’t think it will make much difference to our lives. Edmund’s hardly been home in the last few months – pressure of work, we were told. Honestly, Merrin, I’m such a fool not to have realised what was going on before now. I was totally shocked when he told me, absolutely unprepared. What an idiot!’
Merrin could hear the hurt in her voice. ‘I do feel for you, Jane – it must be really tough, especially having to 12keep the children on track. I wish I could do something to help.’
‘Actually, Merrin, you can, which is why I’m calling. Would you consider having Emily to stay for the Easter holidays? She’ll be no trouble, I promise.’
‘Well …’ Merrin began.
‘She’s going to be revising for her GCSEs, which she’s taking next term,’ Jane persisted. ‘She reminds me very much of your lovely daughter, Isla. Emily’s also bright and very ambitious. She’ll be studying most of the time, you’ll hardly know she’s there, and I’ll send her with enough dosh to pay for her keep.’
‘Why do you want her to come here?’ Merrin asked. ‘She and I don’t know each other very well, hardly at all really. Wouldn’t she do better studying from home?’
‘She’s angry with me and she’s angry with Edmund. She said she just wanted to get right away and then she remembered you’d moved to St Ives. We had a holiday down there about five years ago, and she absolutely loved it. Please, Merrin.’
‘She’ll have to share a room with Isla for part of the time. Isla will definitely be back home for Easter,’ Merrin heard herself saying.
‘Emily will love that. She’s always idolised Isla,’ said Jane.
‘Alright,’ said Merrin, ‘when’s she coming?’
‘She’s on study leave now, so we thought on Monday, the day after tomorrow,’ said Jane. ‘I’ll text you the train times and her mobile number. Thank you so much, Merrin.’
CHAPTER TWO
It was Saturday morning, changeover day, so Chief Inspector Louis Peppiatt had to drive around the St Ives station car park four times before he found a parking space. Successful at last and having bought his ticket, he wandered down towards Porthminster Beach Café. He was early for his meeting with Merrin McKenzie, so he was in no rush. The thick cloud of earlier had thinned to make way for hazy sunshine and, as always, he was amazed by the colour of the sand on Porthminster. Whatever the weather, light seemed to bounce off the beach, creating a look that artists through the centuries had tried to capture, though rarely finding success.
He was looking forward to seeing Merrin and was pleased to be able to put a new case her way. Offering her legal services pro bono meant it offered her little or no income, but she appeared to love the work and was extremely good at her job. Once qualified, she had worked as a family solicitor in Bristol for many years, and her career success, in Louis’s view, was due in the main to 14her compassion and understanding of life’s frailties. Both he and Merrin shared the belief – first voiced by her late husband, Adam, who had also been a policeman – that sometimes good people did bad things and similarly, bad people did good ones. The shades of grey were infinite but the constraints of the legal system sometimes fell short of recognising this. Without a doubt, it was the area in which Merrin excelled.
Louis secured a table with a view looking out across the beach towards the town. He ordered wine, water, bread and olives, then turning his attention to the window, he spied a small, brightly coloured figure hurrying across the sand towards the restaurant. It could only be Merrin, and as she drew near, he smiled at the sight of her. She was such a child of Cornwall with her tumble of dark hair, her fresh complexion, pink cheeks and bright blue eyes.
‘I’m sorry to be so sandy,’ Merrin said, with her huge and lovely smile directed at the waiter showing her to the table.
‘Just this once you’re forgiven,’ he replied, smiling indulgently, even as he eyed Merrin’s sand-encrusted trainers.
These days, Louis and Merrin seemed unable to master the art of how to greet one another. They knew each other far too well now for a handshake, while a kiss seemed inappropriate and a hug was out of the question. So they stood looking at each other, smiling uncertainly. Mercifully, Louis suggested they sat down.
‘I’m so sorry if I’m late, but I had an unexpected call from a former colleague in Bristol,’ said Merrin. ‘She wants me to have her sixteen-year-old daughter, Emily, 15to stay for the Easter holidays. Poor girl, her parents have just decided to divorce, so she’s very grumpy, and she has her GCSEs coming up. The trouble is, I hardly even know her.’
‘So why have you been chosen to look after her?’ Louis asked, amused.
‘Why indeed, and more to the point, why did I agree to have her? Truculent teenagers are bad enough when they’re your own, but really, coping with someone else’s – I must be mad!’
Louis made the pretence of studying her for a moment. ‘No obvious signs of insanity, as yet, but I don’t envy you. I’m just at the start of that particularly dicey journey, of course. Daisy is now fourteen and already fairly volatile, and Ed, at only ten, has a tendency to follow his sister’s unfortunate example. Oh, the joys ahead!’
Merrin eyed the bottle of white wine sitting on the table. ‘Do you think I could have a glass of wine? I feel as if I might need one.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Louis. ‘Actually, I think you really might. I have some rather mixed news for you, in the circumstances. Let’s order, first.’
‘What sort of mixed news, what circumstances?’ Merrin asked.
‘Order first and then I’ll tell you,’ said Louis, firmly.
‘Well?’ asked Merrin, when the menu decisions had been made.
‘There is a young man who has been arrested in Redruth for shoplifting. His name is Billy Carew and the news you won’t like is that he’s the same age as Emily – he’s just turned sixteen.’
16‘Oh God,’ said Merrin, ‘one sixteen-year-old at home and another at work. The stars are aligned against me. Anyway, why do you need me? Surely the duty solicitor will be more than capable of coping with a shoplifting charge?’
Louis took a sip of wine. ‘Normally, yes, but let me tell you about Billy. He has a history of shoplifting. He started his career at the tender age of ten – at least, that was the age at which he was first caught.’
‘A touch of the Artful Dodger?’ Merrin suggested.
‘Actually, you’re not far wrong there. Billy has a certain cheeky charm, apparently, which has served him well over the years. He has a youth caution but there has never been a question of him having a custodial sentence – until now.’
‘Why now?’ Merrin asked.
‘During his latest thieving spree, he threatened the shopkeeper with a knife.’
‘Did the shopkeeper get hurt?’
‘No,’ said Louis, ‘but when he was arrested, Billy still had the knife in his possession and he didn’t attempt to deny what he’d done.’
Merrin let out a sigh and reached for her wine glass. ‘Knife crime, particularly amongst the young, seems to be totally out of control these days, doesn’t it? We don’t have much down here, thank goodness, though in some inner cities it’s now almost an epidemic – as I know to my cost.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Louis. ‘I did wonder whether this was the right case to offer you. I am very conscious that it was a knife that killed Adam, and here I am asking you to 17defend a young man who was brandishing one.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Merrin. ‘Even a year ago, I might have found it difficult, but I have toughened up a little since then. So what possessed Billy to suddenly produce a knife?’
‘Let me tell you what I know about his background,’ said Louis. ‘He lives with his mum and two younger siblings, both boys of twelve and seven. The father left before the seven-year-old was even born. The mum suffers from depression and can’t hold down a job. Up until now, Billy has only ever taken food to help feed the family. However, on this last occasion, he wanted money and the till was nicely full on a Saturday evening. Having said that, he didn’t manage to take any of the money – he ran away the moment the shopkeeper threatened to call the police.’
‘Why has he been stealing food all these years? What about food banks? And surely social services should have been involved with the family?’ Merrin suggested.
‘The mother doesn’t drink or take drugs apparently, but she’s very fragile and overcome with the effort of trying to look after three boys without a supportive partner,’ said Louis. ‘I presume the family’s circumstances have just slipped through the net, and even Billy’s antics don’t seem to have set off any alarm bells.’
‘So, why the knife?’ Merrin repeated.
‘I don’t know, but without help, it means he’s likely to receive a custodial sentence this time, I imagine,’ said Louis. ‘It’s not the sort of case I’m normally involved in, but the arresting officer happened to mention it yesterday, in that hotbed of gossip, the police canteen. Apparently, 18neither he nor the duty solicitor can get a word out of Billy as to why he has suddenly turned potentially violent. I pricked up my ears immediately – because, in my view, if anyone can get Billy to talk, it will be you.’
Merrin smiled. ‘It’s kind of you to say so. I’ll certainly try and find out what’s going on with Billy, and if he wants me to represent him, of course I’ll help.’
‘Great,’ said Louis, ‘and look, our food’s arrived.’
‘Honestly, Chief Inspector, you can’t use a delicious lunch to distract me from the appalling realisation that in the space of less than two hours I have agreed to try and help not one but two troubled teenagers.’
‘Well,’ said Louis, smiling, ‘hopefully a nice meal and a bottle of wine will help, added to which you have the splendid bonus of my undying faith in your ability to sort them out.’
‘Terrific!’ said Merrin, none too graciously.
CHAPTER THREE
Sitting at his desk in Truro on Monday morning, Louis Peppiatt was struggling with paperwork, his least favourite thing. He’d spent Sunday visiting his children in Falmouth, and on his way home he’d called into Camborne Police Station. Once there, he found that Billy Carew had been charged with carrying an offensive weapon and also threatening behaviour during an attempted robbery. Later that morning, he was due to appear in Truro Crown Court.
Louis had called Merrin as soon as he’d heard that Billy had been charged and, true to character, she had immediately offered to meet Billy at the court, half an hour before the hearing, and to represent him, if he so wished. Louis was tempted to attend the hearing – it was only down the road and he had never actually witnessed Merrin in action. Then he decided against it, thinking it might look as if he was checking up on her. Instead, he would wait for the call she had promised him later in the 20day and concentrate on attacking the daunting muddle of paperwork in front of him.
As expected, the judge was not amused by Billy’s move from petty pilfering to knife crime and he was remanded in custody while enquiries were made. However, the judge did agree to a further hearing in two days’ time and conceded that Billy’s case should be more appropriately dealt with in the youth court.
Merrin left court as quickly as she could after the hearing and headed straight for St Erth in order to meet Emily’s train, which was due into the station just before midday. She had immediately liked Billy Carew, and she not only felt she could help him, but actively wanted to do so. He had been very nervous before the hearing, and extremely distressed when she explained to him that he almost certainly would be ordered to remain in custody. However, it was patently clear to Merrin that his anguish was not directed at his own personal predicament but his concern as to how his family would cope without him. She had promised she would come and see him the following morning and then visit his mother later in the day to see if she needed any help. Merrin’s aim was to persuade the youth court to allow wardship probation so Billy could go home while awaiting a trial date. However, she was reluctant to mention this to him – the situation was too uncertain to risk getting his hopes up. It would not be easy persuading the court that a youth brandishing a knife was not a danger to the public.
Now she was worried she might be late for Emily’s train. Addressing the needs of two teenagers was already 21proving somewhat taxing, and it was only Day One!
As she drove into St Erth station, Merrin forced her thoughts to concentrate on Emily. It was some years, Merrin realised, since she’d last seen her – probably not since Emily was eleven or twelve. So she was totally unprepared for the lovely girl who crossed the bridge and walked down the steps onto the platform where Merrin was waiting for her. She was not particularly tall but was slim and had a natural elegance. A cloud of gorgeous blonde hair framed an exquisite little face, which sported a pair of enormous deep-blue eyes. She wore some rather ragged jeans, baseball boots and a grey cashmere sweater – all very simple and understated, but somehow on Emily they looked marvellous. She could wear an old sack and look stylish, Merrin thought, not without a hint of envy.
Merrin waved. ‘Emily!’ she called. ‘Over here.’
Emily came towards her without any obvious attempt at a greeting. Merrin had anticipated giving her a hug, but from Emily’s expression, thought better of it.
‘Welcome to St Ives,’ Merrin said, ‘not that we’re there yet, but it’s only ten minutes down the road to my cottage.’
‘Hi, do you live near the sea, then?’ were Emily’s first words. Close up she was still very pretty but Merrin could see she looked tired, strained and oddly tense.
‘I don’t know how much you remember about St Ives, but I live in a cottage called Miranda’s – it’s at the bottom end of Fore Street, close to the Sloop and the slipway. I have a balcony that looks out over the harbour beach.’
‘That sounds nice,’ said Emily, without much show of enthusiasm, as they began to walk towards Merrin’s car.
‘Do you like swimming?’ Merrin asked.
22‘In the Mediterranean,’ said Emily, ‘or somewhere hot, like the Maldives. I could never imagine swimming in an English sea, and certainly not at this time of year.’
‘You’re probably right,’ said Merrin, trying to jolly her along, while fighting the desire to state the obvious – that most people had to make do with chilly UK waters because they couldn’t afford to visit the Maldives. ‘I had a swim in the sea yesterday and it very nearly killed me, but I’m going to try and keep it up now I’ve started.’
‘Well, I won’t be joining you,’ Emily replied.
On the journey into St Ives, Merrin told Emily about the other members of her household. About Horatio, who insisted on toast for breakfast every morning, and how he liked to spend his days either perched on the wine rack or snuggled up with William in his bed.
‘Who’s William?’ Emily asked.
‘A rather strange-looking little dog, as you will see. I inherited him by default when his owner died. He may take a bit of getting used to – he can be quite standoffish with strangers at first.’
‘And he shares his bed with a parrot?’ said Emily. ‘That’s rather odd, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose it is,’ Merrin admitted, recognising that her domestic arrangements could seem a little unusual.
Initially, Emily gave no hint that she liked the cottage. Merrin showed her round and then suggested she settled herself into the spare room. ‘Isla will be coming home for Easter, at some point, so I’m afraid you girls will have to share.’
‘I don’t suppose I’ll mind, I remember liking Isla when I was a child,’ reminisced sixteen-year-old Emily, 23sounding more like forty. There was also no obvious acknowledgement that maybe Isla might like her room to herself.
Over coffee, they both decided they did not need lunch and would have an early supper.
‘I did buy a sandwich on the train,’ Emily said. ‘It smelt like unwashed feet, rather like the room my brothers share.’
‘Was it supposed to be cheese?’ Merrin asked.
‘I suppose so, but honestly the filling was totally unrecognisable as any kind of food. It was just the smell that was familiar.’
While they talked, William had been studying Emily – he had a rather unnerving stare, which seemed to involve no blinking at all. Eventually, Emily noticed.
‘Why’s he staring at me?’ she asked.
‘I think he likes you,’ said Merrin. ‘Go and sit in that chair by the fireplace and call his name. Let’s see what he does.’
Emily had no sooner sat down than William was out of his basket and jumping straight onto her lap. She put her arms round him and he cuddled up to her. Both of them let out a sigh.
Emily looked up at Merrin, her expression softening for the first time. ‘I’m glad I’m here,’ she said. ‘The cottage is cosy and William is sweet. I feel safe now.’
‘Safe?’ Merrin queried. ‘Why? Were you not feeling safe before you arrived here?’
For a moment, Emily looked disconcerted, but then she rallied. ‘I just mean because of Mum and Dad splitting up. Also, my best friend has just moved to Canada, so, 24altogether, I’ve been feeling a bit, well, odd about things, that’s all. But I don’t want to talk about it with you or anyone. Alright?’ Her raised voice and obvious agitation made William tremble but he bravely remained on her lap.
My guest is definitely morphing into a tricky teenager, Merrin thought, glumly. She got up from the table to clear the coffee cups, glancing at Emily who was busy whispering endearments into one of William’s ears. She frowned – for some reason she felt as if Emily was holding something back, something important. Emily wasn’t just grumpy and upset – she seemed nervous, on edge. No, it was more than that.
It felt like fear.
CHAPTER FOUR
Over supper that night, despite what she’d been told, Merrin tried hard to persuade Emily to talk about herself and her troubles – but it was hopeless. She totally understood why Emily didn’t want to discuss any details of her parents’ divorce, but neither would she be drawn on any other personal subjects – such as her best friend Grace, her exasperating brothers, her school, her exams, or whatever plans she might have for the future. In response to Merrin’s gentle questioning, she was monosyllabic to the point of rudeness. She only became slightly more responsive when they talked about William and Horatio, the latter having shouted and sung to them all through supper, as if to try and raise everyone’s spirits.
During the afternoon, Merrin had been busy organising arrangements for the next day. She’d set up a meeting with Billy at Camborne Police Station, followed by a visit to his mother in the afternoon. She’d left a voicemail with Louis Peppiatt to explain what she was doing. Before knowing about Emily’s visit, she had planned to 26have supper with her two closest friends, Clara and Max. Given her arrival, however, she explained to Emily that, while she would be out for most of the following day, she would cancel her plans for the evening so they could spend it together.
‘While you were making your phone calls this afternoon,’ Emily said, ‘I drew up a revision timetable. I’ve a lot to do and I prefer being alone. Tomorrow evening, while you’re with your friends, I’ll go out and get a pasty for supper – that’s what I want to do.’
‘If you’re sure,’ Merrin had said, uncertainly. ‘Alternatively, you’re very welcome to join us. I’m sure they’d love to meet you, but as we’re all over fifty you might find us a trifle dull.’
‘I expect I would,’ was the none-too-subtle response.
‘OK, well, I’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning so I won’t wake you, but I’ll be back here by mid-afternoon,’ said Merrin, ‘and we’re having an early supper so I’ll be home again by about nine, and the restaurant is only just round the corner. I’ll leave a key for you on the kitchen table, and be sure not to let William out. I’ll have walked him before I leave. Oh, and I’ll leave you a note about where to find breakfast stuff, and there’s soup in the fridge for lunch.’
‘I can manage perfectly well, thank you,’ Emily said, as she headed up the stairs to her room.
Relieved to be alone, away from her increasingly tricky guest, Merrin cleared the kitchen and then took William for his customary walk before bedtime. On her return, she was putting Horatio back into his cage when she began to feel the effects of what had been a very long day – one 27which had begun with a frightened Billy and ended with a very grumpy Emily. She was starting to feel slightly less sympathetic towards her friend Jane. No wonder she had wanted to offload her daughter for Easter while Emily was in this mood.
The decision to follow Emily’s example and have an early night was becoming quite irresistible. Merrin climbed the stairs to find that William, instead of being settled on her bed as usual, was standing outside Emily’s room. She quietly opened the door and William padded straight inside.
She knew exactly what William was doing. The first night he had moved into Miranda’s Cottage, he had jumped on her bed and comforted her, just by lying at her feet. At the time, she had been very disorientated as a result of her move to St Ives, and it was still very early days after losing Adam. William had known just what to do then, and tonight he knew that Emily’s need was greater than her own. He seemed as if he, too, felt there was something seriously upsetting Emily, besides the obvious.
At ten o’clock on Tuesday morning, Merrin was ushered into an interview room at Camborne Police Station. Billy seemed to have shrunk overnight. He was a little lad for his age at the best of times, but now he resembled a small child.
‘How’re you doing, Billy?’ Merrin asked as she attempted to shut the door behind her.
Standing in her way was a very young constable, who looked like he had yet to start shaving. ‘I’ve been 28instructed to stay with you during the interview,’ he said.
‘Billy and I are fine on our own, thank you, Constable,’ said Merrin, firmly, virtually closing the door in his face.
Merrin sat down at the desk and pulled a second chair round beside her.
‘Billy, come and sit here, next to me,’ she said.
After a slight hesitation, Billy did as he was told.
‘Billy, the significance of us sitting side by side is that I want you to understand that I am completely and utterly on your side. I’m here to help you – no one else. However, whatever you’ve done, and for whatever reason you’ve done it, I can only help you if there is trust between us. You can tell me the truth, knowing that I’m not obliged to share the information with the police, or anyone else, if you don’t want me to. Do you understand?’
Billy looked up and smiled, slightly. ‘I do understand, honest I do, but you see, I can’t tell you nothing, Mrs Mac … Sorry, I can’t remember your name.’
Merrin smiled. ‘Mrs Mac will do nicely.’ She hesitated. ‘Why can’t you tell me about what happened, Billy?’
‘I just can’t,’ said Billy.
There was a lengthy silence between them, and then Merrin tried again. ‘I’ve looked at your police file. This is the third time you’ve actually been caught stealing, or rather this time, attempting to do so. I bet there have been many other occasions when you didn’t get caught. Am I right?’
‘Once or twice, I reckon, Mrs Mac,’ said Billy, this time accompanied by his trademark cheeky grin.
‘Something of an understatement, I suspect,’ said Merrin, smiling back. ‘But, Billy, up until now you’ve only 29stolen food for your family. Is that right?’ Billy nodded. ‘And yet this time, you wanted money and you threatened the shopkeeper with a knife. Were you prepared to use that knife if he’d refused to hand over the money?’
‘No!’ said Billy, jumping to his feet. He turned to Merrin. ‘Mr Bentley, he’s a good man, real kind. He’s helped me out a lot, you know, giving me stuff that’s going out of date. I’d never hurt him, never.’
‘OK,’ said Merrin, patting the chair seat beside her. ‘Calm down and just tell me as much as you can.’
Billy did as he was told, staring down at the table in front of them as he talked. ‘I went up to Mr Bentley and said I wanted the cash in his till. He said, “Don’t be daft, Bill, you know I can’t give you that.” So,’ Billy hesitated, ‘I got the knife out of my pocket and waved it at him.’
At this point, Billy broke down completely. Merrin let him sob and after a few minutes, offered him a handkerchief. ‘Come on, Billy, so what happened next?’
Billy wiped his face and blew his nose. ‘Mr Bentley looked very sad. He said, “I’m sorry, Bill, but I’m going to have to call the cops.” So, I ran off without the money, of course, but I’d nowhere to go but back home – so the police picked me up there about half an hour later.’
‘And what happened to the knife?’ Merrin asked.
‘It was still in my pocket, so the police took it,’ said Billy.
‘So it never occurred to you to throw the knife away, knowing that the police would catch up with you?’ said Merrin.
Billy shook his head. ‘I – I couldn’t throw it away, it wasn’t my knife.’
30‘Whose knife was it, then?’ Merrin asked.
‘I can’t say,’ said Billy.
‘Billy, I’m going to see your mum this afternoon. Will she be able to tell me any more about what happened?’
‘No,’ said Billy, ‘please don’t tell her about the knife, Mrs Mac, it would be too much for her. Her life’s very difficult. Please, please, don’t tell her nothing.’
‘Alright, I won’t tell her about the knife today, Billy. I’m only going to visit her to see if she needs any help while you’re here,’ said Merrin, ‘and also I’ll pick up some clean clothes and anything your mum thinks you might need.’
‘Thanks very much, Mrs Mac,’ said Billy, humbly.
‘But tomorrow will be different, Billy. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to be tough with you, if I’m to help you. We’re going back to court, but I’ve requested that your case is heard in a youth court. I’ve applied for “wardship probation” which, if granted, would mean you could go home under supervision until the trial. Your hearing is at eleven o’clock. I’m going to come here at nine and then I need you to tell me what’s really going on in your life. I’m concerned that it’s likely you will receive a custodial sentence unless we tell the court the whole story. Knife crime is very much frowned on by judges at the moment, for good reason, but from what you’ve told me so far, I think we have a chance, if you tell me everything. So, think hard about it, Billy – you can absolutely trust me but, in the end, it’s your choice. I’ll see you in the morning.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Louis Peppiatt was just walking out of Truro Police Station when he heard his name being called. He turned to see young Ben Satchel hurrying towards him.
‘Sir, sir, I’ve just heard, I’ve passed my sergeant’s exams. I can’t believe it – I never thought I’d pass first time, so many people much cleverer than me have to retake.’
Louis reached out and shook his hand. ‘Congratulations Ben, very well done. I have to say, I never doubted that you’d pass first time round.’
‘It’s all thanks to you, sir. It was you who told me I should have a go. I’d thought it would be years before I was considered ready to take the exam.’
Louis laughed. ‘I’ve always said, Ben, you have the makings of a first-class police officer … providing,’ both men chorused, ‘you learn to obey orders!’
It was a joke between them. Two years previously, they had been responsible for busting a major drugs operation. Ben had disobeyed Louis’s orders and, in the process, had probably saved his life.
32‘I’m just off to get some lunch,’ said Louis. ‘I’d really like to buy you a pint, if you’re free – indeed lunch, too, if you have the time. We should be celebrating your mighty achievement.’
‘That’s very kind, sir. I could be out in about ten minutes. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about a case I’ve just been handed.’
‘The Wig & Pen in a quarter of an hour?’ Louis suggested.
With food ordered and pints in hand, they found a quiet table and sat down. ‘Congratulations again, Ben,’ said Louis. ‘Will you be remaining in Truro or moving on?’
‘Staying put, sir, I’m pleased to say. Sir, I wanted to ask you about the Billy Carew case, which has just landed on my desk. I believe you’re involved.’
‘Not involved exactly,’ said Louis. ‘I gather no one can get Billy to explain why he pulled a knife, and I suddenly thought of Mrs McKenzie. She is very good with young people and is happy to take on pro bono work. It certainly looks as if Billy is going to need a lot of help to get out of the mess he’s in.’
‘The thing is, sir, since we caught the cocaine gang, I’ve taken a particular interest in the drugs scene in Cornwall. There does seem to be an increasing amount of smuggling going on and although most of it goes up country, some does stay down here and is badly affecting our young people. It’s, sadly, rather like back in the old smuggling days when quite a high percentage of the Cornish population had a drink problem. I think the same could be happening here now, with drugs and the young.’
33‘I absolutely agree with you, Ben, but what’s this got to do with Billy Carew?’ asked Louis.
‘Probably nothing,’ said Ben, ‘but, at the moment, there is a group of kids in the West Cornwall area who are peddling stuff to other kids, some very young. I just wondered if Billy had become involved – hence the knife and the need for cash. It would also explain why he won’t tell us anything. He could be too afraid to do so, if he’s being threatened by a gang of tough kids, who are probably being controlled by someone older.’
‘You could be right,’ Louis acknowledged.
‘Also,’ said Ben, ‘I’ve spoken to the shopkeeper involved in Billy’s attempted robbery – a man called George Bentley. He doesn’t want to press charges. He says Billy would never have actually hurt him. He’s sure of it and he’s really fond of the boy.’
‘The trouble is, Billy was carrying a knife in a threatening manner, as I understand it,’ said Louis. ‘If Mr Bentley didn’t want to press charges purely because of a bit of pilfering, Billy would have almost certainly got off. After all, he didn’t actually steal anything in the end. However, the knife changes everything.’
‘I thought as much, sir,’ said Ben. ‘Knife crime is a very hot topic at the moment, isn’t it? I’m so anxious to get this one right, it’s my first job as a sergeant. I really mustn’t mess up.’
‘Ben, I think Mrs McKenzie needs to know all about this possible link to drugs. Have you ever met her?’
‘Only briefly, sir.’
‘Right, I’ll get hold of her and pass on what you’ve told me, and suggest she contacts you direct. Maybe young 34Billy has gone to the bad, but I have a feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye. One thing I’m sure of – with you and Mrs McKenzie on the case, the outcome is likely to be the right one, whatever that may be. Thank you for keeping me in the picture.’
Merrin arrived at the Carew home just after two o’clock on Tuesday afternoon. It was a semi-detached house in a depressing, run-down terrace on the outskirts of Redruth. Although she had made an appointment, she rang the bell several times without success. She tried knocking and on the second attempt, the door was opened a few inches, restricted by a security chain. A pinched little face stared out at her suspiciously.
‘Mrs Carew, it’s Merrin McKenzie. We have an appointment.’
‘I can’t see you now, I’m busy,’ was the reply.
‘Mrs Carew, it’s really important I see you now to talk about Billy. I’m trying to get him home to you but I need your help,’ said Merrin.
The door closed and for a moment Merrin’s heart sank, but then it opened again, with the chain released. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said.
Mrs Carew was a tiny, birdlike woman – it was clearly from his mother that Billy had inherited his small stature. She was very thin, and although Merrin knew her to be thirty-six, she could have easily passed as being ten years older. Her clothes, a jersey and skirt, were very shabby, but clean. The sitting room was full of toys, on the floor, the chairs and a battered old sofa, but again the room looked spotless beneath the chaos and a little table in the 35corner shone with polish. There was a sudden loud crash from upstairs, followed by the sound of childish laughter.
‘Are your other children at home?’ Merrin asked. ‘I’d love to meet them.’
‘I thought you came to talk about Billy,’ replied Mrs Carew. ‘When can he come home?’
‘Well …’ Merrin began. There was the sound of someone running down the stairs, then the sitting room door burst open and a small figure hurled himself across the room and flung his arms round Merrin.
‘Hello,’ said Merrin. ‘What a lovely greeting,’ she said to Mrs Carew, over the head of the small child with his arms around her.
‘Hello,’ said the little boy. Having stopped hugging Merrin, he continued to hold her hand. ‘I’m Robin, I like you, I’m seven.’
‘I like you too, Robin,’ said Merrin, smiling into the sweet face of the boy. His dark hair was a riot of curls, his deep-brown eyes alight with fun. He also had Down syndrome.
‘Robin, I told you to stay in your room,’ said Mrs Carew, gently. ‘If I fetch you a drink and a biscuit will you stay there while I talk to this lovely lady?’
‘Yes, Mummy, a biscuit!’ Robin shouted. ‘Bye, bye, lovely lady.’
‘Bye, Robin,’ Merrin called and he started climbing back up the stairs.
Mrs Carew’s face was now creased with concern. ‘I won’t be a minute, I’ll just take Robin his biscuit.’
‘Don’t rush, Mrs Carew, I’m in no hurry – and please don’t worry. I’m only here to help.’
CHAPTER SIX
It took over an hour to unravel the Carew family story, and there were many tears. At one point, Merrin tried to make a cup of tea but there was no milk; in fact apart from half a loaf of bread, some baked beans and a packet of digestive biscuits, there seemed to be precious little else.
William Carew, the children’s father, had left the family home before Robin was born and before Gerry, now twelve, had started school. Mrs Carew, whom Merrin was now calling Maggie, had not discovered she was pregnant until her husband had left. She begged him to come back to his family, but he refused. ‘He took up with a woman who was down here on holiday. She owns a pub, somewhere near Birmingham – right up William’s street, living over a pub. Of course, he never came home,’ said Maggie, bitterly.
The loss of her husband, having two young boys to care for, and then the discovery that Robin had Down syndrome had sent her spiralling into depression, which 37Merrin could see was still hanging over her like a cloud. Billy had been just eight when he first brought home some food for them. He said someone had given it to him, and this was the story he had stuck to until he was caught stealing – the first time at ten years old.
‘What about benefits?’ Merrin asked. ‘What are you claiming? Social services should be helping you, and you should be receiving some support for Robin.’
‘I won’t go near social services,’ said Maggie, ‘so don’t ask me to.’
‘Why ever not?’ Merrin asked.
