I peer at the cliff face again, but all I can see are waves breaking over boulders, a row of gulls lined up on a promontory. Several minutes pass before I spot a black shape rolling with each wave at the foot of the cliff, making my gut tighten.
‘Can you land me on the rocks, Denny?’
Cardew gives me a wary glance. ‘You’ll have to jump. I’ll run aground if I go too close.’
‘Lucky I’ve got long legs.’
My heart’s pumping as the boat swings towards the cliff. If my timing’s wrong, I’ll be crushed against the rocks as the boat rides the next high wave. I wait for a deep swell then take my chances, landing heavily on an outcrop, fingers clasping its wet surface. When I climb across the granite, the soles of my trainers slip on a patina of seaweed. I give Cardew a hasty thumbs up, then gaze at the wall of rock that lies ahead, marked by cracks and fissures. Below it a body is twisting on the water’s surface, dressed in diving gear, too far away to reach. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman, but the reason why the ocean has failed to drag it under is obvious. The oxygen tank attached to the corpse’s back is snagged on the rocks, anchoring it to the mouth of Piper’s Hole.
I dig my phone from my pocket and call Eddie Nickell. The young sergeant listens in silence as I instruct him to bring a police launch from St Mary’s; it will have to anchor nearby until the tide ebbs and the body can be carried aboard. Breakers cresting the rocks are taller than before, the Tresco Lass still bobbing on the high water, ten metres away. I make a shooing motion with my hands to send Cardew away before his boat is damaged, but he gives a fierce headshake, and I can’t help grinning. The fisherman is a typical islander, unwilling to leave a man stranded, despite risking his livelihood. I turn my back to the pounding spray, knowing the wait will be uncomfortable. It could take an hour for the tide to recede far enough to let me reach the body. When I lift my head again, the corpse is rolling with each wave, helpless as a piece of driftwood.
2
Tom Heligan reaches Ruin Beach earlier than planned. He looks more like a schoolboy than a young man on his way to work, an overgrown fringe shielding his eyes, his legs spindly. He pauses on Long Point to catch his breath, images from the sea cave making panic build inside his chest. From here he can see the black outlines of Northwethel, Crow Island, and the Eastern Isles scattered across the sea. On an ordinary day he could stand for hours, picturing shipwrecks trapped below the ocean’s surface. Spanish galleons lie beside square riggers and tea clippers. He could draw a map of the wooden carcasses that litter the seabed with his eyes shut, but even his favourite obsession fails to calm him today. Tresco’s rocky shores have destroyed hundreds of boats, their precious cargo stolen by the waves, ever since Phoenicians sailed here to trade jewellery for tin. Now his own life is foundering. He drags in another breath, weak as a castaway stumbling ashore.
The boy crosses the beach towards the café at his slowest pace. How will he be able to work after what he saw? He should never have followed Jude Trellon from the pub last night; it was a pathetic thing to do, especially after spending the day in her company, but he hates letting her out of his sight. Tom comes to a halt, eyes screwed shut, trying to erase the memory. The shame of his cowardice will last forever. He saw a figure emerge from behind a rock in Piper’s Hole, but was too afraid to act: he hid in the darkness until the terrible cries and splashing ended, then ran for his life. Fields passed in a blur as he sprinted home to Merchant’s Point. Last night he convinced himself that everything he saw was a waking dream, but now he’s less certain. Surely the woman he’s obsessed with is strong enough to defend herself from any threat? There might be nothing to fear after all.
Kate Rhodes grew up in London, but now lives in Cambridge with her husband, the artist and writer Dave Pescod. Kate began her career as an English lecturer and still works part-time as an educational consultant. Before becoming a crime writer she produced two award-winning poetry collections. In 2015 Kate was awarded the Ruth Rendell short story prize.
Also by Kate Rhodes
Blood Symmetry
River of Souls
The Winter Foundlings
A Killing of Angels
Crossbone’s Yard
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2018
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright © Kate Rhodes, 2018
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Hardback ISBN: 978-1-4711-6539-9
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Acknowledgements
Ruin Beach Excerpt
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
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