Glenn shook his head in a ‘kids today’ way. I’d always thought they sounded a laugh, Beth.
‘Think about it,’ I urged him. ‘Those wireless headphones we found, and the blackout curtains? I reckon someone held a silent dance at the RAF tower, and used blackout curtains to eliminate any lights. With no noise and no light, no one would suspect a thing out there – it’s not like anyone is going to pass by and spot the revellers. They could shout at the tops of their voices, too, as it’s too far for that sound to travel to the village. It’s perfect.’
‘If we’re right, then that means Jill Young knew about this.’
I nodded eagerly. ‘She’s definitely lying. I knew it! And it means there must have been someone who witnessed what happened to Beth. Surely!’
‘Why wouldn’t they come forward?’
‘It’s an illegal rave, Glenn. No one is going to admit to breaking the law. And I bet half the people attending were underage, like Beth, and the other half were doing drugs. Not the sort of thing you’d want to tell the police about. That’s why Beth was so dressed up – she was there too.’
‘Along with Aleksy.’
That made sense – that would be why he’d got so freaked out about me pushing him when he’d mentioned dancing.
‘And Alison Daughtrey-Drew,’ I realised, pieces falling into place. ‘That must have been where she was when she saw Beth. And I bet James Harvey was there, and that’s how he and Alison hooked up. So he’s back in the picture. Maybe she really was selling drugs, and that’s why she has lied for him.’ I chewed my lip, thinking. ‘But how would word be spread about this do without parents finding out about it?’
Glenn pondered. He clicked his fingers. ‘Did Beth use Snapchat?’
‘Umm, yeah, name rings a bell. I don’t understand what it is, though.’
‘It’s images that can be sent between users, and they only last for ten seconds. Could be the perfect way to communicate a secret.’
‘Bloody hell!’
This was it; this was the reason why everyone was lying. Now we knew what the connection was, it was only a matter of time before we discovered who had hurt you. All thanks to Glenn’s detective work. I could have kissed him.
‘So how come Roza told you all this, anyway?’
‘Kids love me. Besides, I can be very persuasive. I told her I’d get her a sparkly cover for her phone, in exchange for her showing me how to download a ringtone from it. After that it was easy enough to chat to her. Mind you, working out how to Bluetooth the ringtone was a nightmare; it took ages to figure out how to do it. I’m such a technophobe!’
He played his new ringtone, which sounded like echoing, villainous laughter. ‘Cool, eh?’
‘Hang on, how come you know about Snapchat, but don’t understand Bluetooth?’
‘Looks like we’re getting somewhere,’ Glenn said, rubbing his hands together and ignoring my dig. ‘The question now is whether we tell the police what we’ve discovered. Or do some more investigating ourselves?’
‘After the run-in I had earlier with the police, I’m not inclined to go to them until I have something solid. Otherwise they’ll have another go at me and probably accuse me of being a hysterical mother.’
‘So our next move is… ?’
‘Fancy anything from the shop?’ I asked, giving him a smile made of iron.
Sixty-Seven
The Picky Person’s Pop In was empty. That seemed to be the norm lately, for which I thanked my lucky stars. Jill stood behind the counter, hands on hips hidden behind a blindingly white apron. I looked at her, then slowly, deliberately, locked the door and turned the sign hanging on it to ‘closed’. Glenn stood in front of it like a bouncer, his arms folded.
‘Hey, lady,’ she blustered.
But I cut across her.
‘I think we need to have a little chat about the lookout tower. And the rave that was held there.’
She slumped forward, holding onto the counter. Jill had always seemed like the puppetmaster, in control of everything. Now she looked like a marionette with her strings cut. You wouldn’t have recognised her.
‘That’s why Beth was on the marsh that night,’ I whispered, my voice full of malice. ‘So I want you to tell me everything. Right now.’
She nodded. Stumbled back and pulled a stool over to rest on, then looked at me sadly.
‘I’m so, so sorry.’
Then she sat up straighter, seemed to pull herself together. ‘You want to know everything? I’ll do my best, but it’s hard to know where to start…
‘I bought the old RAF lookout tower back in 2005. It had taken a long time for the property bubble to reach these parts, but finally it had. Prices had been going up and up and up. So when the RAF decided to stop using the marsh for bombing practice, and sell the tower, I snapped it up. I thought I couldn’t go wrong. I’d wait a couple of months, give it a lick of paint, then sell it on to a property developer for a tidy sum.
‘Just weeks later, the credit crunch hit. World recession, banks teetering on the edge. The value of the property plummeted overnight. The bank changed the terms of the mortgage on me, and I wasn’t in a position to argue, was I? Everyone was panicking.’
Jill stared down at the counter as if she could see it all playing out there. I barely breathed, impatient to get to the relevant part of the story, but not wanting to urge her on for fear of breaking the flow. This was, after all, the most I had ever heard the normally laconic Jill say in one go.
‘I almost lost everything; it’s taken all I’ve got to keep my head above water. I tried to auction the tower off, rid myself of the millstone around my neck, but no one would touch it. Only one offer was made, and it was so far below what I’d paid for it that I’d have been in negative equity. So I had no choice but to hang onto it and hope…’
Her head snapped up, desperate eyes meeting mine. ‘Look at this place. It’s so quiet, with everyone getting their shopping from the supermarkets. Even the café is taking trade now they’re selling cards. Things have got better since I started selling some farmer’s market produce: local cheeses, vegetables, meat. But the money isn’t coming in fast enough, and property prices are still nowhere near where they use to be. I went to the bank to ask for a loan, showing them how the shop’s books have improved – I wanted to use the money to do the tower up as best I could myself, then sell it. But the bank turned me down. I’ve too much debt, thanks to the tower’s mortgage.
‘In desperation I went, cap in hand, to the Daughtrey-Drews. I had a stupid idea that the old ways might survive, that they’d feel it their duty to help a villager out, the way their ancestors would have. Of course, they didn’t.’