The Mine by Rachel McLean

Author:Rachel McLean [McLean, Rachel & Hames, Joel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

THERE.

Nina slowed as she passed a small cottage, its grey stone brightened by a rare burst of sunlight. She caught a glimpse of a small front garden, leafless shrubs that would be a riot of colour come spring, bounded by the house and a low stone wall.

This was the neighbour’s house. Rosemary Ripon. The one who’d spoken so warmly of Bernard Dearborn.

From here, Nina could see Bernard’s house in the distance. A moment later, she was past it and looking for the turning to Bernard’s.

She’d come a different route, hoping she might find something just as useful as that camera coming another way.

She hadn’t.

Bernard’s place looked better in the sunlight. This whole valley did. But quiet, now eerily so, with no Harriett Barnes outside, no Stella Berry shouting abuse within. Not even police tape on the door.

She pushed at it and turned the handle. It was unlocked, as Stella had told her it would be. The keys would be in the kitchen. She shouted as she stepped inside, more out of habit than expecting a response.

No response. Of course. She found the light switch and turned on the light. The stone floors seemed to shine back at her.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember what else she’d seen, as she’d wandered from room to room, trying to avoid Stella. Had there been a photo album? Something that might have been a will?

She pictured it in her mind, what she thought it would look like. Bound pages, cream parchment, red string. Was that real? Or just in period dramas?

As for the photo album, she didn’t remember seeing that. She tried to imagine it, but she hadn’t even been given a clue. Instead, she just saw Harriett standing there, oblivious to the rain running through her hair, listening intently and staring out into the grey emptiness.

What did Harriett really think of Tom? Something didn’t seem quite right there, but it was none of her business. Nina liked Harriett. She hoped the PC wasn’t going to hurt her friend.

She started in the study, where they’d found the gun safe. It was still there, still open, but the shotgun had been removed. Probably a good thing with the front door unlocked. Nina went to the drawer full of keys and started opening things: more drawers in the desk, the drawers of a small cabinet that fitted neatly under it.

Bernard Dearborn had been a hoarder. Not worryingly so, but in the same way most people of his generation seemed to be hoarders. There were thousands of pages of receipts, invoices, utility bills, bank statements. Business accounts. Reports about the mine. It would all have been so important at one time. But now, it was all so dull. And there was still no will or photo album.

She went to the kitchen, where she found recipe books and programmes for Workington RFC – Bernard had been a keen rugby fan. But again, no will. No photo album.

Nina reached the living room when her phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number, but knew Kay’s voice as soon as she heard it.

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