Death in Cold Print by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Stratus

Chapter Thirteen

Cliff Fall

The glitter was back in Richardson’s eyes, and he had a pin-point of scarlet on each cheek. His wife was clutching his arm now, but looking at Tenterden, whose eyes were glistening, whose knuckles were gleaming white where he gripped the telephone.

‘Right,’ he said, and put the receiver down with a bang. He drew a deep breath. ‘The car’s been seen at Bracken Head,’ he went on, with slow vehemence. ‘Men are being lowered to it now.’ After a pause he explained to Roger and Brown: ‘It’s a cliff headland about thirty miles from here.’

‘Rose—’ began Mrs Richardson.

‘By the time we get there we shall know whether your daughter’s in the car,’ said Tenterden. ‘I think you and Mr Richardson had better come in a police car, Mrs Richardson – unless you would rather wait until there’s definite news.’

‘I’d—I’d like to come,’ Mrs Richardson muttered. She looked almost as broken as her husband, timid, frightened, despairing.

‘Oh, God,’ Richardson gasped, and the words sounded more like prayer than blasphemy. ‘Let her be safe. Let her be safe.’ He swung towards the door, the moment of breakdown and perhaps confession gone, hope pouring into him and giving him strength. He did not wait for his wife, and she almost ran after him.

‘Let him drive himself,’ Roger said. ‘I’ll come in your car, Arthur. I’ve done enough driving for today.’

‘Suits me,’ said Tenterden. ‘I’ll lay on a few odds and ends.’ He talked into the telephone for less than thirty seconds, brisk and efficient where action and routine were required, then moved with the others towards the door. A telephone rang on Brown’s desk, and he went back to answer it. Roger went with Tenterden, whose big car was in the yard by the side of the police station. By the time he had the engine started, Brown was alongside him, puffing.

‘That was Cope,’ he reported. ‘Paul Key’s been in London this week, and he and his brother and father are on the way down here. Because of their cousin’s disappearance, Cope understands.’

‘Thanks,’ said Roger. None of the report had any immediate significance, and he noted it automatically.

As they started out from Corby, Tenterden said: ‘Bracken Head’s a notorious suicide spot, and there have been three cases of cars going over it in the last few years. Tricky place, as you’ll see when we get there. Several gorges in the cliffs, and the bottom of them is under water up to about twenty feet at high tide.’ He swung past a Richardson and Key delivery van at the approach to the station, and said: ‘There’s young Cousins, who saw the car last night.’

Roger had caught a glimpse of a big-eyed, fair-haired youth.

‘So if the car went over the edge last night, it’s been under twenty feet of water at least once,’ he said.

‘Probably,’ answered Tenterden.

Brown hammered the obvious home hard.

‘So if she was in it, she’s had it,’ he said. ‘What do you think her father will do then, Handsome?’

‘I think he could explain what’s driving him off his head,’ Roger said.

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