Death on the Lake, Jo Allen [e reader TXT] 📗

‘Oh, I see. Thank you.’ She nodded to Tyrone and let him take over, smiling a little at what must be coincidence.

‘Yeah. So we had something to eat.’

‘Which was?’

‘Err…sandwiches and stuff.’ Ollie went pink. ‘And a beer. Maybe a couple of beers. I fell asleep and Will must have done, too. When we woke up, she wasn’t on the boat.’

‘Okay. And what time was that?’

‘About five o’clock.’

‘And weren’t you worried?’

‘Nah. We thought she’d need to get back and she must have decided not to wake us.’

‘And the boat,’ pursued Tyrone, in patient explanation, ‘was out on the lake, where it is now?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you get there by a dinghy.’

‘Yes, but it was tied to the boat.’

‘And so how did Summer get to the shore?’

There was a long pause. ‘Don’t know.’ Ollie pushed his chest out in what was obvious defiance, snatched a sideways look at Ashleigh, who returned it with interest just to let him know she was already onto the probability he was lying, and turned back to Tyrone. ‘I never thought of that. I just woke up and she’d gone.’

‘Perhaps your brother rowed her over to the shore.’

Ollie snorted. ‘Will was way more drunk that I was. I had to wake him up.’ He brightened. ‘She must have swum.’

‘In her clothes?’

‘Yeah, why not?’ The youth brightened, as if a solution had occurred to him. ‘She was really sporty. I think she went wild swimming and stuff. Or maybe she rowed over with her bag and stuff and then returned the boat so we could get off, and then swam back and got dressed and walked home. That would make sense.’

‘Perfect sense. You didn’t think to check she’d got home safely?’

‘No, because…well, I didn’t think. It didn’t occur to me. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think anything, much. I’d had quite a lot to drink. Beer. And it was hot. Goes right to your head.’

‘Anything other than beer?’

Ollie squirmed in his seat. ‘Summer brought a bottle of vodka.’

‘And anything else?’

‘No.’ Ollie’s ears flamed scarlet.

‘Okay. But it’s fair to say you were drunk. And Summer?’

‘Very drunk. I hope she’s okay. Maybe she fell asleep somewhere on the way home.’

Tyrone looked at Ashleigh, received a nod, and put his pen down. ‘I’m going to ask you to read over this statement as I’ve written it, and initial it as a true representation of everything you’ve told me today. If Summer doesn’t turn up somewhere in the very near future, I expect we’ll be back for more questions.’

‘Because we were the last people to see her, yeah?’

‘The last that we know of.’ Tyrone handed the sheet of paper and the pen to Ollie, who barely scanned it before signing his name at the bottom of it. He must be keen to get rid of them. And then he’d be checking with his twin to make sure they’d said the same thing although, she realised with a sigh, they were probably both smart enough to do that before they started.

Summer might turn up, but she had the distinct impression Ollie knew more than he was letting on. She pushed her chair back. ‘Thanks a lot, Ollie. You were a great help.’ She smiled at him, a full-on smile he tried and failed to return. The blush deepened. Ollie Neilson was a confident young man, and she didn’t think a smile from a woman usually sent him that beetroot colour. Yes; surely he had something to hide.

‘Thanks, Sergeant. Constable.’ He nodded them out of the kitchen, grandly. ‘I’ll go and get Miranda. She’ll want to see you off.’

In the living room, Charlie was wrapping up his interview with Will. ‘Thanks, lad,’ he was saying. ‘That’s all I need just now.

Will bounced up with obvious relief and the slightest nod passed between him and Ollie, as if each had concluded their side of a bargain, as he flung open the french window and yelled for his stepmother.

Miranda had been waiting for the summons, and was in the room in half a dozen strides. ‘Thank you, Ollie. Will.’ She dismissed her stepsons with grace, and they withdrew without any sign of the tension common between teenage children and a second wife only three years into their lives. Maybe they were glad to get off so lightly. Instead, she addressed herself to the three police officers. ‘Thank you for being so helpful. And so understanding. I’m afraid the boys don’t seem to have covered themselves with glory yesterday.’

‘Boys will be boys.’ Tyrone nodded his head as if he were twenty years older.

‘We don’t encourage them to drink a lot, and they’ve yet to learn to handle what they do drink, it seems. And I believe the young woman brought spirits. Of course, if I’d been here this wouldn’t have happened. Or not in the same way. I worry I cut them too much slack, but I try to turn bit of a blind eye. They’re so young.’

And she was their stepmother and didn’t have the authority their father would have. ‘When is Mr Neilson expected back?’ Ashleigh asked, as Charlie and Tyrone got into the patrol car and headed off to make further inquiries in the village.

‘He was due home on Friday, but I spoke to him earlier and he’s coming back straight away.’ The faintest scowl crossed her face. ‘He won’t be pleased. I’m afraid he can be a little puritanical. They like to have fun. I think the party on the Seven of Swords was Ollie’s idea.’

‘That’s a wonderful name for a boat.’

‘It’s a tarot card. A fortune teller drew the card for me at a fair, years ago, and I liked the name.’

A short silence hovered between them. ‘Thanks for your help.’ Ashleigh moved towards the car.

‘No, thank you, Sergeant O’Halloran.’ A pause. ‘I do hope you find the poor girl safe and well.’

‘We’ll do our best.’

Ashleigh slid into the car and started the engine, noting how Miranda watched her all the way along the curve of the drive