Read Online Little Black Lies by Sharon Bolton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sharon Bolton
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round hulls. Tonight, though, the tension hovers around the masts like gulls hanging on the air currents. The suspicion that arose when the child wasn’t found is spreading like an infectious disease.
We turn south around Cape Pembroke and the Antarctic wind hits us full on. Queenie shoots me a look of disdain and does her usual half run, half fall into the bow cabin, as I become conscious that this is the first time Callum and I have been alone, properly alone, in years. I wait for him to say something, make some comment about the search, or the plans of either police or military. He remains silent, and when I turn I see him sitting on the side couch, arms on his knees, head down.
The sea gets bigger. Both the wind and the tide are against us and it’s going to take longer than the usual hour to reach the wreck. The waves are five, six feet high. They hit the bow and droplets of water scatter like pebbles over the hull, running down the glass panes of the wheelhouse windows. Callum hasn’t moved.
‘If you’re not feeling too good, you’re probably better on deck.’
‘I’m good. I don’t get seasick.’
Seasick or not, something is bothering him. He’s the colour of the water that is splashing over the bow, a sort of sickly grey-green. Sensing me watching him, he lifts his head.
‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s a killer on the islands.’
I’m conscious of my heartbeat picking up, of a chill that has nothing to do with wind or weather creeping up on me. ‘This isn’t Glasgow, or Dundee or London.’ I’m trying hard to keep my voice light, as though I’m half joking. ‘We only have a couple of thousand people. What are the chances of one of them being a psychopath?’
His stare hardens. ‘Well, I’m no actuary, but I’d say greater than the chances of three boys between the ages of seven and three disappearing in three years.’
It seems a good moment to concentrate on steering.
‘I was at Port Howard when Fred vanished. So was Stopford. I begged him to search all the visiting boats but he refused. He said the owners would check themselves, that if the little boy was hiding on any of them, he’d be found without a disruptive and distressing search.’
I don’t answer. No point. I can tell he’s far from finished.
‘Think about it, Cat. Two of our biggest events, Sports Day and the Midwinter Swim. Loads of people milling around. Kids wandering away from their parents. If you were a paedophile, isn’t that when you’d choose?’
I shake my head. He just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get that that sort of thing simply doesn’t happen here.
His raised voice is as shocking as a sudden cold wave. ‘Jeez, Catrin, what happened to you?’
I look at him then. I forget the boat completely. That he, of all people—
‘Sorry.’ He’s on his feet. ‘That was a stupid thing to say.’ He runs his hand over his face. ‘I haven’t slept in God knows how long.’
I turn back to the wheel. ‘Archie didn’t vanish during an event. He was just picnicking with his family.’
‘So maybe he’s becoming an opportunist. He could have been stalking Archie and his family for days.’
‘He?’ Callum is directly behind me. I can see him in the glass of the wheelhouse, not quite as tall as I would expect him to be. His feet are planted wide apart to give him balance in the rolling sea.
‘Paedophiles and child killers are usually male.’
If the boat pitches suddenly, he’ll fall into me.
‘When Fred vanished, some teenagers said they’d seen a young kid wandering off towards the beach. They followed but when they got down there, no sign of him. Which suggests to me, he didn’t make it to the beach. When Jimmy went, more than one person thought they’d seen him near the parked cars.’
‘None of them were sure, though, from what I can remember.’
‘Why do you think they all vanished near water?’
He’s not going to let this go.
‘If a child is going to come
We turn south around Cape Pembroke and the Antarctic wind hits us full on. Queenie shoots me a look of disdain and does her usual half run, half fall into the bow cabin, as I become conscious that this is the first time Callum and I have been alone, properly alone, in years. I wait for him to say something, make some comment about the search, or the plans of either police or military. He remains silent, and when I turn I see him sitting on the side couch, arms on his knees, head down.
The sea gets bigger. Both the wind and the tide are against us and it’s going to take longer than the usual hour to reach the wreck. The waves are five, six feet high. They hit the bow and droplets of water scatter like pebbles over the hull, running down the glass panes of the wheelhouse windows. Callum hasn’t moved.
‘If you’re not feeling too good, you’re probably better on deck.’
‘I’m good. I don’t get seasick.’
Seasick or not, something is bothering him. He’s the colour of the water that is splashing over the bow, a sort of sickly grey-green. Sensing me watching him, he lifts his head.
‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s a killer on the islands.’
I’m conscious of my heartbeat picking up, of a chill that has nothing to do with wind or weather creeping up on me. ‘This isn’t Glasgow, or Dundee or London.’ I’m trying hard to keep my voice light, as though I’m half joking. ‘We only have a couple of thousand people. What are the chances of one of them being a psychopath?’
His stare hardens. ‘Well, I’m no actuary, but I’d say greater than the chances of three boys between the ages of seven and three disappearing in three years.’
It seems a good moment to concentrate on steering.
‘I was at Port Howard when Fred vanished. So was Stopford. I begged him to search all the visiting boats but he refused. He said the owners would check themselves, that if the little boy was hiding on any of them, he’d be found without a disruptive and distressing search.’
I don’t answer. No point. I can tell he’s far from finished.
‘Think about it, Cat. Two of our biggest events, Sports Day and the Midwinter Swim. Loads of people milling around. Kids wandering away from their parents. If you were a paedophile, isn’t that when you’d choose?’
I shake my head. He just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get that that sort of thing simply doesn’t happen here.
His raised voice is as shocking as a sudden cold wave. ‘Jeez, Catrin, what happened to you?’
I look at him then. I forget the boat completely. That he, of all people—
‘Sorry.’ He’s on his feet. ‘That was a stupid thing to say.’ He runs his hand over his face. ‘I haven’t slept in God knows how long.’
I turn back to the wheel. ‘Archie didn’t vanish during an event. He was just picnicking with his family.’
‘So maybe he’s becoming an opportunist. He could have been stalking Archie and his family for days.’
‘He?’ Callum is directly behind me. I can see him in the glass of the wheelhouse, not quite as tall as I would expect him to be. His feet are planted wide apart to give him balance in the rolling sea.
‘Paedophiles and child killers are usually male.’
If the boat pitches suddenly, he’ll fall into me.
‘When Fred vanished, some teenagers said they’d seen a young kid wandering off towards the beach. They followed but when they got down there, no sign of him. Which suggests to me, he didn’t make it to the beach. When Jimmy went, more than one person thought they’d seen him near the parked cars.’
‘None of them were sure, though, from what I can remember.’
‘Why do you think they all vanished near water?’
He’s not going to let this go.
‘If a child is going to come
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