Author's note: All the usual disclaimers apply. The amusement park exists but has been modified and renamed for the purposes of this story.
It was only a few minutes after six o'clock. The morning was cold and brooding, much like the atmosphere inside Detective Inspector Lynley's classic car. It was a ninety minute run down the A3 to Portsmouth but to Tommy it was beginning to feel like an expedition to the summit of Everest. His sergeant, Barbara Havers, was grumpy and it went far beyond waking her at five o'clock with phone call to let her know a body had been found. He had told her that he would pick her up in thirty minutes with coffee. That normally worked but this morning she was moody and bad tempered. He was trying hard to be friendly but was fast losing patience.
"We're making good time," he said as cheerily as he could, "we should make the first ferry."
"Ferry?"
"Isle of Wight. I thought the name might have been the clue."
"They have bridges to islands! Why do you want to take the ferry?" she snapped.
Tommy was trying to be tolerant but he knew his tone was the same as he would use on a five year old child. "There's no bridge across the Solent so we have to take the car ferry. It's a pretty little trip of about forty minutes."
"I don't like ferries, they sink," she said petulantly clearly channeling the child he had in mind.
"We can only hope," he muttered under his breath. For the last ten years she had been prickly at times but this felt personal rather than her usual railing against class, wealth, privilege or whatever other injustice she thought he represented. "Have I done something wrong?"
"No."
Her answer was too quick. Barbara did not play female games, unlike his wife Helen, but that "no" had a very Helen ring to it and it angered him. "It seems I have but if you won't tell me then you'll just have to sit there and sulk until we get to the crime scene. I'm not in the mood for games, especially from you Havers. I didn't like having to get out of my bed any more than you did."
"I'll bet you didn't!" she spat bitterly.
Tommy glared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She did not answer but stared out the window. If he did not know better he would think she was jealous, but of what? Then it dawned on him. Barbara thought he was sleeping with his houseguest. He smiled to himself. If only she knew! But why should that worry her?
Lady Elizabeth Tynan was an old schoolfriend of Helen's who spent most of her time in Brussels. She was in London for a week and had asked if she could stay with Tommy. Lizzy had just broken up with her lover of many years and needed to settle her affairs. She was no longer welcome at home having run off to Europe with Jamaican Mary ten years earlier. Helen had always felt sorry for her knowing that she had struggled with her sexuality all though school, so Tommy had agreed knowing it would have been what Helen wanted.
Tommy now regretted introducing them the other evening when Lizzy collected him from work. First Lizzy had played Twenty Questions about Barbara and then told him that before her death Helen had confided to her a fear that Tommy would never to as close to her as he was to his work partner. That had disturbed him, not because Helen had believed it but because it was true. He could never explain their relationship, even to himself, but he resented others interfering with it. Now for no obvious reason Barbara seemed to dislike Lizzy. He doubted that Barbara would judge Lizzy so it was bizarre that she should be so bitter. There was no reason for any animosity and it was quite unlike Barbara to react like this without cause. Women! If I live to be a thousand I'll never understand them.
"Why don't you phone the office and see if they have any updates?" he suggested hoping that focussing on the case would ease the tension.
The oppression in the car lifted slightly as Barbara discussed the murder scene and preliminary findings. "Blunt force trauma to the head of a male aged about forty. No signs of a struggle but other injuries consistent with the fall from the chairlift."
"And the blow to the head was not the result of the fall?"
"No. Winston said Stuart thinks it happened earlier. It's possible he was not murdered at the scene."
Tommy engaged with the conversation, happy to have things go back to a semblance of normality but he could not stop thinking about her reaction. Why would Barbara seem jealous? Obviously she was not jealous as such, probably just being protective. He had a lot to live down after his incident with Julia Oborne. He thought she had accepted it and forgiven him but perhaps not. It was not as though he needed her forgiveness but he had hated himself for disappointing her. 'Not you finest hour', those words still echoed in his nightmares. Barbara had been the only one he could turn to, the only one he knew would never doubt him but he had felt as if he had betrayed her far more than he had Helen's memory.
He knew she worried about him and he was grateful. He felt he should reassure her but he was loathe to broach the subject and he was still miffed that she had taken such a high-handed attitude without establishing the facts. When he made assumptions in cases she was quick to berate him. Best leave well alone!
As they waited in line for the ferry he noticed Barbara seemed nervous. She was biting her lip and had her hands clasped tightly around her bag. "You're not actually worried about the ferry are you?"
"Nah, not worried as such Sir but I don't really like boats."
"That's a shame," he said wistfully, "I used to like sailing when I was young. Helen hated the idea but I always thought if I had children I could take it up again. Do you get seasick?"
"I don't know. I've only been down the Thames once but the idea of a boat doesn't seem right. You should take it up again though if you enjoy it. Does Lady Elizabeth like sailing?"
There seemed to be a hint of something in her voice; sarcasm or resentment. He wanted to understand why she was so upset by Lizzy. The ferry started to load. Tommy looked across at her but before he could speak he had to concentrate on maneuvering his car so it was not scratched. They parked successfully and climbed the stairs to the lounge. Barbara seemed surprised that the large open area had comfortable seating. They chose a spot by the window that had a small table between four grey and crimson, velveteen seats. Tommy discreetly ensured Barbara faced forward and he sat opposite. The ferry lurched as it left the quay and Barbara looked up in alarm. He smiled and gave her hand a quick squeeze to reassure her.
"I'd like to take you sailing," he said surprising both of them.
"Yeah, right of course. I'll just grab my boat shoes."
"Don't be like that please Barbara." Tommy removed his hand. It seemed such a shame to have never experienced the thrill of the wind through your hair on the deck of a yacht. He could tell however that his partner was too rooted to her urban ideas of life to even think about it. "If you could see past your prejudices you might find you enjoyed it."
"I doubt it."
"Yes, so do I," he retorted referring to her ability to approach a new idea with an open mind. He felt unreasonably angry. He would, for once, like her to try something new, something that he enjoyed just on the off chance that they might find common ground that did not involve a cadaver or criminals.
They sat silently as the ferry chugged across to Fishbourne. Barbara stared out of the window and he contemplated why he was so annoyed that she had slipped back into old habits. They had become close over the years and just when he thought they were comfortable and stable a day like today came along and it felt as though everything just slipped away. He sighed and tried, unsuccessfully, to push it from his mind.
They were in the final row of cars to leave the ferry and Tommy exited carefully. "Are you clear where to go?" he asked Barbara who had a tourist map that Tommy had grabbed from a stand on the ferry spread on her lap.
"Yeah but it's about twenty five miles."
"It's a bigger island than you'd think."
The road was well used but narrow which meant travel was restricted to urban speeds. Most of the traffic was heading back towards the ferry. "Where's everyone going?" she asked.
"Quite a few people commute to the mainland from here. Otherwise it's primarily tourism and agriculture."
"And aged care," she said, "that's the fifth old people's village I've seen. Don't you ever put me in a home over here!"
"I won't," he answered thinking that if it ever came to that he would pay for her to be looked after at Howenstowe. The implication then occurred to him and he looked across to see her reaction. There was none. They had both assumed, unconsciously, that they would always be looking after each other. Despite her mood today he was pleased. Their friendship meant a lot to him and any thought of her not being in his life forever distressed him. "Which nursing home do you want me to put you in then?"
Barbara blushed and could not look at him. "Ha ha," she said feebly, "you know what I meant."
He regretted his last line. It had made her uncomfortable which was the last thing he wanted when she was in a mood like today. He worried too that it reminded her of her mother who had spent the last few years of her life in a home just like the dismal ones they passed now. She was right, there were a lot of them.
He had often wondered if she assumed, as he did, that they would be friends forever. Somehow he doubted it. Barbara would never understand how much he needed her in his life. She was the only person he had ever allowed himself to fully trust. He could not even trust Helen that way. His wife had let him down too often and even though in the last few months she had made more effort to understand him it was too late. Helen could never balance him the way the annoying woman sitting beside him was able to effortlessly do.
They drove on in silence except for her directions. At the roundabout at Totland she hesitated. "Which exit?" he asked as he waited at the give way sign.
"The second," she replied positively. Tommy drove into the intersection.
"No the first," she said just as he was about to turn.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes by the petrol station."
Tommy drove right around and was about to exit when she said, "No the second, or maybe the third."
"Make up your mind Havers!" He acknowledged the man waiting patiently at the smallest of the intersecting roads with a smile and a thanking hand wave. The man smiled but as she changed her mind twice more and he circled the tiny roundabout for the fourth time he could tell that the man had passed through annoyed to bemused. Tommy spotted the sign to Alum Bay and swung onto the second exit. He pulled over, snatched the map from her, looked at it and drove on.
"Sorry," she said quietly, "I don't seem to be having a very good day."
"That makes two of us."
Within ten minutes they were standing at the tent that had been erected to act as crime scene headquarters. A single runnel of water tracked across the entrance and dripped on the asphalt splashing Tommy's impeccably shined shoes."Good trip?" Lafferty asked as he came out to brief them.
"No!" they said in unison then stared at each other. Tommy noted Stuart's smirk and felt even angrier.
"Where's the body?" Barbara asked.
"Under the chairlift."
Dampness crept down his back. Tommy had left his umbrella in the car up the hill. He could not be bothered to go back for it and pulled up the collar of his black overcoat around his neck. The place made him shiver. If ever there was a fitting location for a murder this was it. The Pleasure Palace was set up for tourists who came to look at the nearby national park. Tommy imagined that on a bright, sunny day it could appear vaguely pleasant but the gaudy array of carnival activities seemed out of keeping and tastelessly juxtaposed against the dramatic cream cliffs. Lynley imagined the dinosaur mini golf and water peddle cars would appeal to those who saw the geology as merely of passing interest. He knew that the historical significance of the first radio broadcasts from the spot was immaterial to most of the people who would wander past the spot as they chatted on their phones or updated their Facebook status. He sighed and followed Havers and Lafferty towards the path behind the chairlift terminal.
As they strode down the central courtyard the merry-go-round turned lazily. Its horses moved mournfully up and down while the organ music ground out Greensleeves at a third of the usual speed. The miniature vintage cars to the left sat silently on their tracks, the dull blues and reds brightened by the shining rain. Behind them the giant teacups were arranged in neat circles longing for the March Hare to set them spinning. Maybe with children and sunshine the place would seem alive but now it was depressingly eerie.
"Can't they turn off that carousel?" he asked testily.
"No, it's stuck somehow. Gives me the creeps. You should have been here before dawn!" Stuart replied.
They made their way to the edge of the the cliffs. The body was wedged in a crevice about ten yards before the land dropped away to the sea. He was well dressed in a bespoke navy suit and an Oxford college tie. It was the last thing Tommy had expected. "St. Hugh's."
Barbara frowned looked up front her notebook at him. "You knew him?"
"No. The tie, it's the college tie of St. Hugh's in Oxford."
"Right so some sort of toff then," she said almost sounding as if that alone was enough reason to murder him.
"We don't know that Havers, just stick to the facts and leave your prejudices for another time."
They glared at each other but Barbara backed down and started scribbling furiously in her book. "Yes Sir."
Tommy clamped his jaw shut and ground his teeth. He did not want to create a scene now but if she wanted an argument she was going to get one. Enough was enough!
