Dastardly Deeds (7 page)

Yen and I parted company to wander along the rows. I did so methodically, because it suddenly seemed important that I read each inscription to acknowledge the lives, and deaths.
Ultimate sacrifice
was the phrase that sprang to mind, but none of these men would have intended to die. It wasn’t a clear choice. They would have arrived in this faraway place full of patriotism and bravado and a sense of immortality. Reality had been brutally venal. They were all so young. I felt my throat close. I glanced up and locked eyes with Ruby, standing by the towering pine tree. She was with her father and Tessa, and I knew immediately that she knew I knew. Which was why she was avoiding me. At first I felt my dormant hurt surge but then it dissipated as quick as a blink. It was simply too absurd, too self-centredly ridiculous, in this place.

Instead I smiled, and after moment of surprise, she sent a hesitant smile back. We held it for a few long minutes and then that was enough, for now. I made my way towards the cenotaph at the end and joined the queue that snaked its way through the interior, stopping to leave a message in the bound memorial book.

Half an hour later I left, overwhelmed by the experience. I strolled past the cluster of stalls towards the road and then hiked back to the dirt track where our bus was parked. To my surprise, Quinn was already there, sitting cross-legged on the grassy verge beside Griffin.

‘Had enough?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. Like, it’s so sad. We came back with Ruby.’

‘Oh, where is she?’

Quinn gazed around, as if only just realising that her sister wasn’t beside her. She shrugged. ‘Dunno.’

This would be a perfect time to clear the air. It would be a relief to return to the ship with at least that conversation done. I checked the bus before looking around. The dirt track petered into a meandering path that led towards the horizon. It occurred to me that my surreptitiously smoking daughter might have headed there for a bit of cover. I made my way down the path. After about fifty metres, it veered to the left and continued beside an elevated ridge of brushy foliage. I guessed there was a cliff hidden by the ridge, running adjacent to the path. A short distance away were a few rough steps dug into the ridge, so I decided to test my theory. If I couldn’t find Ruby, I might as well have a nice view.

I climbed the steps and came out into a small clearing. The view wasn’t just nice, it was breathtaking. In the distance, the cove curved like a pregnant belly nestled against the shore. The water was satin, made silvery by the cloudy sky. It was like a painting, too idyllic ever to have been the scene of so much carnage. I stood for a while, and then turned to retrace my steps. I didn’t want to be the last one at the bus again. That was when I saw the shoe.

It was a woman’s black shoe, with a flat sole that faced me. It jutted out from some tumbled brush at the front edge of the clearing. What had stopped me in my tracks, however, was the angle of the shoe. It sat neatly, the toe nudging the dirt and the heel pointing upwards, quite unlike something that had simply been abandoned. It looked, actually, like it was still attached. My stomach lurched. I took a step closer and, with my own shoe, prodded the black one. It gave immediate resistance, giving way only slightly before returning to the original position. It was definitely attached.

Time stretched like elastic. I tried desperately to remember what shoes Ruby had been wearing. Then the elastic snapped and I leapt forward, falling to my knees as I began pulling away the brush. It came free easily, too easily, and one part of my brain registered that it had been piled there deliberately. Within seconds the matching black shoe had been uncovered, and beyond, a pair of loose, cream-coloured slacks. Ruby had definitely not been wearing those. I sat back on my haunches, giddy with relief. I ran through the other members of our group but nobody stood out.

But there was also an issue of time. The woman, whoever she was, might still be alive. I returned to work, scrabbling at the twigs and foliage that covered her. Soon a rose-coloured T-shirt was revealed and then one pale arm, bent at the elbow, with a gold Pandora charm bracelet around the wrist. I felt for a pulse but her flesh was cool and still. I continued more slowly, finally pulling away the brush that hid her head. The cause of her death was immediately obvious. Her brown hair was short and densely matted with blood.

I stared for a few long moments and then got to my feet. My stomach was a fist, catching at my breath. Twigs studded my clothing. The woman was lying on her stomach, face down. She looked like she had pitched forward after being hit from behind. I wondered if she had even been aware of the danger. Above her head was an odd crumple of crushed velvet. It took me a moment to realise that it was a hat, which must have fallen off as she hit the ground. And with that, I knew who she was.

I was sitting on the grassy section beside the bus with a travel rug draped over my shoulders. I had no idea how it got there, and didn’t really need it as the day was quite warm, but it felt oddly comforting. The path behind had been cordoned off, with the occasional Turkish police officer slipping beneath to stride grim-faced towards the cliff. They wore military boots with their navy blue uniforms and caps pulled low over their brows.

I had already given my statement but had been told to stay close. There were two policemen doing the rounds, trying to gather information about who knew what and where they were staying. But their main focus was on the occupants of the bus parked so close to ours. I had not been surprised to see the
Absolutely Fabulous
women among this group and even now they were arguing with a senior police officer regarding the whereabouts of their friend.

‘No, you’re wrong,’ said the tall blonde for the second time. ‘I’m telling you Kim just came back here to get her other battery. For her camera. See, Portia was charging it off her iPad and left it on the seat. So she’s probably around here somewhere taking photos.’

‘She
loves
photos,’ agreed Edina. Beside her the Patsy lookalike was pale. I wondered if she was the forgetful Portia.

The police officer nodded. ‘Yes. I am very sorry.’

‘So you see, it must be someone else. Not her.’

‘Yes.’ He nodded again and gestured sharply towards a younger officer. He brought over a knapsack. ‘Would this belong to your friend?’

The women stared at the bag. After a moment, the tall blonde reached out and twisted the knapsack to face her. When she let it go, it swung back and struck the young policeman on the thigh. The sound slapped across the silence.

‘Would this belong to your friend?’ asked the senior police officer again.

‘Someone might have stolen it.’ The blonde’s voice was hoarse. She suddenly grabbed at the bag again, pulling it open. ‘See? Her purse is gone!’

‘Yes. Perhaps it might be best if one of you …’ He paused, glancing at the path.

‘We all will,’ said Edina firmly.

The senior officer barked a few words in Turkish at his subordinate and then ushered the women towards the tape. He lifted it for them to pass beneath. I watched until they disappeared. I knew that this was not going to end well.

‘You all right?’ asked Yen, her arms folded. Petra was beside her.

‘Yes. Have you seen Ruby?’

‘She was eating ice-cream at those shops.’ Yen pointed down the hill. ‘So, do you want to tell me how on earth you managed to get involved in this?’

‘No. Is she okay?’

‘Of course. I mean, who knows what will happen once she digests the stuff, but she’s okay for the moment. Now, answer my question.’

‘I just stumbled across her. That’s all.’ I searched for a change of subject. ‘How did Uncle Jim and Enid go with their uncle’s grave?’

‘Well, they managed to get through the experience without stumbling across a dead body. Ironic, really, when you think about it.’

‘Not really,’ said Petra. She examined me. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Annoyed, actually. But mostly at you.’

‘Ah. Yes.’

‘What’s going on?’ Yen looked from one to the other. ‘What’s happened?’

I answered first. ‘Oh, haven’t you heard? Ruby’s settling in Cornwall with Petra. Your ex-husband is going to give her a job.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t think this is the time or place,’ said Petra primly. ‘Let me know if you need anything, Nell.’

She moved away and, after hesitating for a moment, Yen followed. I could hear her firing questions even as Petra stepped up her pace.

Lyn Russo was standing alone near the rear of the bus. She waved uncertainly. It occurred to me that her husband often seemed to absent himself from her side. Lew and Deb were nearby, along with Scott and Donald and Phoebe. Phoebe was literally wringing her hands. I had never seen someone actually do that. They all looked stunned.

Ashley came over, lowering himself to the ground. He plucked a blade of grass and then rolled it in his fingers. ‘Well, well, well.’

‘Looks like a robbery,’ I said matter-of-factly. An image of Kim’s bloodied scalp flashed before my eyes. I pushed it away.

‘Yes, that’s what I heard.’

‘Her purse was taken. And her expensive camera is gone too.’

‘Hmm. What was she doing down there, though?’

‘She came back to get her spare battery. The theory is that she decided to go for a wander and get some shots of the cove from over there.’ I nodded towards the pathway. ‘They’re thinking someone followed, tried to get the stuff off her and when she resisted …’

‘Yes. Bugger.’

I paused. ‘For a minute, I thought it was Ruby.’

‘Shit.’ He turned, and then gathered me in.

I knew that everybody was probably watching but I didn’t care. The hug felt good. Nevertheless, I was the first to pull back. He kept hold of one of my hands, turning it over to trace the scratches that crisscrossed my fingers.

‘You’d better get these seen to.’

‘I will.’ I folded my hands in my lap. The nagging pain actually felt good. ‘What do you think will happen?’

‘They’ll take names and addresses, but if they’re pretty sure it’s a robbery, then they’ll probably concentrate on the transients who have come in for the tourist pickings. Some of them are pretty sophisticated. They work in gangs.’

‘What about the cruise?’

He shrugged. ‘Not sure. Although my guess is they’ll let it continue – especially as we’re spending the next two days in Istanbul anyway.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ I took off my hat and ran my fingers through my hair, then jammed it back into place. I could see the
Absolutely Fabulous
women coming back up the path, escorted by the senior policeman. The tall blonde was crying and the other two had their arms around each other, as if needing physical support. All conversation, which had ebbed and flowed in pockets around the bus, ceased. I wanted to think it was out of respect for their loss, but suspected it was more about curiosity. I also wanted desperately to approach the women and offer my sympathies, and my regret for not having found a pulse. I wanted to tell them I had treated her with dignity, and that she probably hadn’t known what hit her. That, in all likelihood, she had died instantly doing what she loved.

But I didn’t. Mainly because I didn’t know much of that for certain. What I did know was that the cruise might continue for us, but it had just finished for them.