The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,91

to redeem himself in the eyes of his boss.

‘I’ve found out where Walden kept his money.’

Well, about time! But I think I know that now already. Matthew said nothing. There was no need to rain on the man’s parade and anyway, Ross wasn’t in listening mode.

‘Have you got the details there?’

‘Of course.’ Ross laid printed sheets on the desk between them and pulled up a chair. He was so close to Matthew that he could smell the gel on the slicked-up hair. ‘He actually had two accounts, a current account with NatWest, where his wages from the Kingsley Hotel were paid and a savings account with—’

Now Matthew couldn’t help himself. ‘The Devonshire Building Society.’

‘Yes! How did you know?’ Ross looked so disappointed that Matthew almost felt sorry for him.

‘I found out from Cramer, the solicitor.’ Matthew hardly noticed Ross’s reaction to the news. He was too busy asking questions of his own in his head. Why had Walden felt the need to send Cramer all that money? Was it just a coincidence that Walden had deposited the cash redeemed from his Bristol home and business in the building society where Dennis Salter had once been manager? Why had he decided to withdraw the whole amount? And what had happened to make him change his mind about leaving all his money to the Woodyard centre in his will?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

GABY HAD AGREED TO SPEND THE afternoon with Caz and her father, Christopher Preece. Gaby still wasn’t quite sure how she’d allowed herself to be talked into it. Caz had taken her aside after her appearance at the jazz cafe the night before.

‘What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?’

‘Nothing much. I don’t work on Friday afternoons.’

‘Will you come out with Dad and me?’ Her voice had been strangely pleading and Gaby had thought Caz didn’t ask many favours, so she’d go along with it, but it had seemed an odd request. ‘He’s suggesting a walk,’ Caz said. ‘A bar meal afterwards.’

‘Don’t you want some time on your own with him?’ They’d looked across at Christopher who was standing at the bar, buying drinks for them all. Gaby had thought she wouldn’t mind the man as a father.

‘It’s the anniversary of my mother’s death,’ Caz had said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if he got sentimental about her. He won’t if you’re there.’

Gaby had been made receptive by the response to her singing, and several glasses of cava. ‘Okay,’ she’d said. ‘Why not?’ She’d thought that at the very least she’d get a free meal.

Now, in the quiet house, drinking coffee together before leaving to meet the man, Caz started talking about her mother’s death for the first time in any detail. Gaby just listened.

‘I was away from home,’ Caz said. ‘A retreat for the weekend with the church youth group. We’d all left our phones behind. It was part of the deal. The guy running the centre came to my room and told me my mother was dead. No other details. Not how she’d died. A friend drove me home, but I told her not to come in. Dad was there, waiting for me. He told me my mother had killed herself, she’d hanged herself.’ Caz paused for a moment. ‘I lost it. Started yelling. Blaming him.’

Gaby found it hard to imagine Caz, usually so controlled and contained, losing it, but her friend was still talking.

‘I said some hateful stuff: I thought we were in this together. Working to keep Mum safe. How could you let this happen? He’d tried to take me into his arms but I pushed him away. I know I should forgive him, but part of me can’t quite.’ She looked up at Gaby, her eyes very big behind her glasses. ‘It’s ten years, so perhaps we should make our peace. But I don’t want to be on my own with him. Not on this particular day. Do you understand?’

Gaby wasn’t quite sure that she did understand – weren’t Christians supposed to forgive? – but she nodded anyway.

They met Christopher in the National Trust car park, with a view of the sea and the cliffs, as they’d arranged. Because it was so early in the season there were very few people, only a scattering of cars. There was a footpath leading down the cliff to the beach and the air seemed very thin and light.

‘This was my mother’s favourite place,’ Caz said.

Christopher was there before them, and was already out of his car, staring out towards the island of Lundy, apparently