Angel of Death

‘You’re cold. You need to get indoors, get dressed. Forget your swim this morning.’ He stood up, lifting her, and she clutched at him, her arms going round his neck. Her fear had somehow drained away; suddenly she trusted him, felt safe with him.

The swing of her emotions was bewildering: one minute she was terrified, under threat; the next she was soothed into a belief that nothing was going to happen to her with Alex around. She would give anything for a little stability; to have solid ground under her feet for a while, to forget her fears for ever.

Alex carried her to her bungalow, unlocked the door, took her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and knelt beside her, gazing down at her with an intensity that made her head swim.

‘Don’t look at me like that!’

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered, then he began kissing her. She drowned in the depth of emotion running between them. His hands touched her, fire scorching her skin, his body moved closer and closer. But never close enough. She yearned to be part of him, to take him into herself, melt into him. This was how she had felt from the first moment she saw him – this need, this desire, had been instant and overpowering. Why else had she felt so guilty when Tom died?

Shuddering, she pushed him away. ‘No, Alex, don’t.’ She rolled off the bed and stood up. ‘I must get some breakfast before I start work, but first I have to have a shower and get dressed – would you mind leaving?’

Slowly he got up too. ‘Are you still fighting the way you feel, Miranda? Your husband’s been dead for three years. It’s time you stopped refusing to move on. You’re still young, you have a long life in front of you.’

She walked to the door and opened it, silently inviting him to leave but as he came towards her Neil appeared in the doorway, wearing swimming trunks, a large towel over one shoulder.

‘I’m going down to the sea for a swim – will you join me, Miranda?’

Alex’s face tightened into a cold mask. He walked past Neil, nodding to him curtly.

‘Oh, hello, I didn’t see you there,’ Neil said, startled. Alex walked off without replying. Neil gave Miranda a grimace. ‘Did I come at the wrong moment?’

‘No, he was leaving anyway. I’m sorry, Neil, I’ve already had my swim. Maybe I’ll see you later?’

‘Lunch?’

‘That would be nice. My lunch break is at one o’clock today.’

‘I’ll see you then.’

As Neil swam in the blue sea, under a blue sky, he envied Miranda waking up every morning to weather like this in this lovely place. He would have to go back to dreary, grey, autumnal London, leaving her here.

He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her, he knew that. Every day she came into his head, he couldn’t shut her out. He had never been this obsessed with anyone. Her image was burned into his brain.

Back in his bungalow, he was nearly dressed when the phone rang, making him jump. He reached for it automatically. ‘Hello.’

‘Hello, Maddrell. Sergeant Cordell here, missing persons. Just had a fax from the Met. They’ve had information from some fishing port down the coast from Dublin. Port St Patrick.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘Me, neither. But, seems a body came ashore there yesterday . . .’

Neil stiffened, heart racing, his knuckles gripping the phone going white. ‘A woman’s body?’

The other man chuckled. ‘Thought that would make you sit up. That’s right, a woman’s body. Been in the sea a long time, wrapped in an old bit of carpet, weighted down with gym weights, I’d guess from a private gym, they’re too small to have come from a public gym, from the sound of it.’

‘How the hell did it come up if it had been on the bottom of the sea all these weeks?’

‘Came up in a trawl net, Japanese fishermen out in the deep sea, fifteen miles off the UK coast, nearer to Ireland, fishing for mackerel and herring, brought it up in their nets, and put into port with it at dawn. The pathologist hasn’t taken a look at it yet, but it could be what you’ve been looking for. The photo you faxed us isn’t any help, I gather. No hair left, no eyes, either, so we can’t match them. But the general weight, colouring, could be right, and she has all her own teeth – although some work has been done not too long ago, so if you get hold of your girl’s dentist that might help with identification. Shall we send someone else, or d’you want to come back and take a look?’

‘Yes,’ Neil said fiercely. ‘I certainly do.’

‘Rather you than me. Remember, she’s been in the sea for weeks. Not pretty. And it will screw your holiday up.’

‘If this is my missing body it will break the case wide open. It’s worth it. I can take a holiday later. Thanks, Cordell. I owe you one.’

‘Buy me a drink next time I see you.’

‘You’re on.’