45. Preferred Haunts
The group of officers exited through the station's rear door into a gray dawn. The parking lot was strangely hushed as Sally got into the passenger side of DI Gemmell's white Tesla. He took the wheel while Chakrati and Simms got in the back.
An electric blue Mini Countryman pulled out in front of them. Liam sat in the passenger seat next to Mayhew, staring fixedly ahead.
"Here we go," said Gemmell, and started the Tesla forward.
In moments they were out of Rye, heading north on the Military Road alongside the Rother.
The Mini pulled off the road shortly after passing Scots Float, then stopped by the towpath.
Sally opened the door before the Tesla even stopped, then half-ran down to the mooring dock, where Mayhew's group were already standing beside an empty berth.
"No sign of him," Mayhew said. "We'll–"
Sally pushed past them to rap loudly on the flank of the nearest houseboat. Ephesian Tears.
"It's Jack Mercer's," she said, turning. Mayhew's face was a storm cloud, bruised and furious. "He knows Bledd, maybe he knows where he is."
There was a pottering sound from inside, then a double clank as bolts were withdrawn and Mercer's face appeared. He seemed disheveled, no cup of tea in his hand this time, as if they'd just woken him. He blinked in the gray light, looking around at them.
"Officers," he said, until his gaze fell on Mayhew and he gave a tiny flinch. "Gloria?"
Mayhew's anger blanched away, to be replaced with an iron mask of control.
"Mr. Mercer," she said coolly. "We're looking for your neighbor, Arthur Bledd. Do you know when he left this berth, and where he was headed?"
Mercer just stared at Mayhew, like he was faced with a ghost. "Gloria," he repeated softly. "I knew you were on this thing. I tried to check in with you, earlier, but…" he trailed off momentarily. "Wait. Why are you looking for Arthur again?"
"Jack," Mayhew said, the mask of her face not shifting. "Can you help us locate Mr. Bledd?"
Mercer stared a moment longer, then blinked, as if a spell had broken. "I, uh. Arthur. He's not here?" He peered at the nearest berth. "No. Right. Well, he must have left in the night. He was here when I called it a night."
"And when was that?"
"Uh, around 10. Earlier every night, and nothing to do on the water, you know." He tried for a faint smile, his eyes briefly settling on Liam and Sally. Nobody smiled back and that registered. "This is serious, isn't it? You don't think–"
"The situation is developing rapidly," Mayhew said, her tone softer still now. "You know how that works. Can you think of anywhere else Bledd might have gone?"
"Really? I can, uh. Yes, I think so. At least broad strokes."
"What strokes?"
Mercer stepped more fully through the doorway of his houseboat. He wore a tartan dressing gown with the fabric belt dangling loose, frayed at the sleeves. "It's something he's kept very private, but, yes. Thing is, Arthur's recently gotten engaged, and–"
"Bledd's engaged?" Sally blurted.
Everyone looked at her. "He is," Mercer said. "She's an artist, as I understand it. Sculpture, found materials. She has a place on the beach near Dungeness, which I could make assumptions about, but I don't know anything for sure."
Mayhew's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about Prospect Cottage?"
"That'd be my guess. Like I said, he never named it."
"No need. Thank you, Mr. Mercer. DI Gemmell, we're going to Dungeness."
She strode back toward the Mini. Liam and the others followed.
"One second, Stephen," Sally said, turning back to Mercer. "Jack, what's Prospect Cottage?"
Mercer smiled. "Only one of the most famous artist's homes in the country. Used to belong to a film-maker, right out on the shingle. They do residencies, last I heard."
"Come on," Gemmell said, touching Sally's shoulder.
"Coming," she said, as the others went back to the Tesla and the Mini's engine started. She looked at Mercer and he looked back at her.
"What's going on here, Sally?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said, though she felt it. Something was off, and she didn't know what. Like Bledd had been tipped off, somehow. "You and the DCI. There's heat there, like she's angry at you? But you all know each other down here."
Mercer watched her, like he was waiting for her to put the pieces together. "It's a small community."
"It's more than that." The Tesla hummed to life behind her. "You called her Glory, before. Nancy Cagen did the same thing. Now Cagen's dead, and you're friends with Bledd, and now Bledd's gone." She took a moment, trying to put her finger on it. "Jack, I'm concerned for your safety."
"You think I'm a target?"
"Maybe. What's your connection to the DCI? I spoke to Cagen before she died. She wouldn't tell me her ties to Mayhew. Will you?"
Mercer shifted his footing. The houseboat bobbed slightly. "I don't know that it's for me to say, Sally. It's her story to tell."
"That's exactly what Cagen said. She died before she could tell me."
"Officer Rogers, we need to go," came Gemmell's call from the car. Sally held up one hand, watching emotions ripple across Mercer's face. Maybe there was pain. Confusion. Shock.
"Jack," she pressed. "People are dying."
"OK." He held up one hand, then took a deep breath. The Tesla's horn sounded but they both ignored it. "I told you about DCI Robert Stewart. My boss."
Sally frowned. "OK."
"What I didn't tell you was, he had a daughter."
That meant nothing. Then Sally's jaw dropped. "No. Mayhew?"
Mercer nodded. "She used to be little Gloria Stewart.
Before she grew up and got married. She'd come running around the station while we were all working.
Such a cute little kid." His eyes took on a faraway look.
"So bright. And that was all fine, her being in that place, when the major crimes were just tipping and poaching and traffic offenses.
It made coming to work every day feel like family. She used to call me 'Uncle Jack'."
He exhaled heavily. The Tesla's horn blared again.
"Then Richter died, and Rob died, and nothing was the same.
" Mercer seemed paler now, like the story was taking a toll.
"I still remember how she looked at the funeral.
I tried to say something to her, she was only 6 then, but I couldn't find the right words.
She was just a kid, and I couldn't even handle it myself. "
Sally stood, barely hearing the Tesla's horn anymore.
"I ran, Sally. Away from here, from her, from it all. Couldn't face the failure. London was no better, really, but at least it was numb. I wasn't even thinking about redemption. Just stopping it from hurting."
Something cracked inside Sally's chest. She understood that feeling completely.
"So Mayhew's father killed himself," she said, forcing herself forward. "Now she's facing the exact same pressure. The same killer."
"That's it. So if anyone's at risk, it's her. Don't worry about me. I survived last time and I'll survive now. But you have to look after Gloria, Sally. That death destroyed her world and broke us all. I couldn't bear it if it claimed her, too."
Sally didn't know what to say. The horn sounded once more, then a door slammed.
"But if you can find this killer?" he urged. "It'll put to rest this ghost for all of us. A lot of people will finally know peace."
The weight of that landed. The pressure.
"I'll find them," she said, then turned. The Tesla was already halfway through a three-point-turn, and Sally ran toward it. Gemmell stopped and pushed the door open.
"Let's get to the beach," she said, slamming the door after her.