The House At Sea’s End

house.’

‘It was about nine o’clock. I was looking out of my window and I saw him. Looking at me.’

‘Where was he standing, exactly?’

Maria takes Nelson to the window and points. The garage forecourt is deserted, the only light comes from the kiosk and from a huge illuminated advert for a Volkswagen Golf. As Nelson watches, a policeman comes slowly into view, shining his torch in wide, careful arcs. Nelson recognises him as Roy ‘Rocky’ Taylor, a local boy. Definitely not the brightest bulb in the box.

‘He was standing there,’ says Maria. ‘Looking up. I see him at nine, ten, again at eleven.’

‘Did he just stand there all the time?’

‘Yes. But, at ten past eleven, there is a ring at my bell. I know it is him.’

‘Did you answer?’

‘No. I ring this number. It is the lady policeman, Judy, who came with you.’ She shows him Judy’s card. ‘I ring Judy because I think she is kind.’

‘Sergeant Johnson wasn’t on duty,’ puts in Clough. ‘So I answered the call.’

Maria looks at him doubtfully.

PC Taylor appears at the door and Nelson goes to speak to him. There is no sign of any man hanging around. The people in the garage haven’t seen anything. Their CCTV cameras don’t cover the area near Maria’s block of flats. Nelson wonders if the mysterious lurker knew this. He asks if Taylor has spoken to any of the other residents in the building. No, says the policeman stolidly, no-one asked him to.

Nelson sighs. ‘All right, Taylor. Wait for us in the car.’

He turns back to Maria who is sitting back at the table. Clough is beside her, just far enough away to be professional.

‘Maria, did you get a good look at this man?’

‘No. It is dark. He is wearing dark clothes and a hat.’

‘What sort of hat?’

‘A knitted one. Like the hat George wears for football.’

‘What colour?’

‘Black.’

‘Did you see his face? When he was looking up?’

‘Not really.’

‘Was he pale skinned? Dark?’ Nelson treads warily in the PC minefield.

‘Pale. Like you.’

‘What was he wearing?’

‘A long dark coat. Trousers.’

‘Are you sure it was a man?’ asks Clough.

Maria looks at him, her lip quivering. ‘No.’

Clough and Nelson exchange glances. Nelson feels so tired that he can barely speak. There doesn’t seem to be any evidence of Maria’s mystery prowler but, then again, she was the person who was given Archie’s cryptic clue, the unwitting recipient of a seventy-year-old secret. Could someone be trying to scare her? Could someone be trying to find the code for themselves?

‘Maria,’ he says. His soothing whisper comes out more like a sinister croak. ‘You remember that Archie left you some books in his will?’

‘Yes.’ Maria looks up, surprised.

‘Can I see them? The actual books.’

Maria goes to the black trunk beside the bed. She lifts the lid with difficulty (Clough rushes to help) and pulls out the eight battered paperbacks. Avoiding Clough’s eye, Nelson carefully fans through the pages. In Evil Under the Sun he finds what he is looking for. A letter.

‘Did you know this was here?’ he asks Maria.

Maria looks bemused. ‘No.’

‘Do you mind if I borrow this for a bit?’

‘No.’

Nelson folds the letter and puts it in his pocket. He is sure Ruth would have told him to wear gloves.

At the door, he asks, ‘Maria, did you tell anyone that Archie left you the books?’

‘Everyone at the home knew. Dorothy said it was a tribute to us all. That he left me something.’

Nelson isn’t so sure about this. If Archie had wanted to pay tribute to Greenfields Care Home, he could easily have done it openly. No, the books were for Maria alone.

‘Anyone else?’ he asks.

‘My mother. I phone her every Sunday. I told her.’

Nelson looks around the room, at the sleeping child under the blue light, the statue of Mary, the bare walls, the uniform hanging on the door, the breakfast plates already laid out next to the sink. He thinks of the letter in his pocket. Did anyone else know it was there?

‘Try not to worry, Maria,’ he says. ‘I’m sure it was just some down-and-out looking for somewhere to kip. But I’ll have a patrol car come past every half hour or so, just to make sure he doesn’t come back. If you’re scared for any reason, just ring me.’

‘Or me,’ says Clough.

‘You’re very kind,’ says Maria. ‘You’d better go now. George needs his sleep.’

Driving home, windows open to keep him awake, Nelson thinks about Maria and her delicate, compassionate relationship with Archie Whitcliffe. Why had the old man left her his books? Why did he make her the guardian of this secret, protected so long and with such ingenuity? Had Archie discussed his will with Hugh Anselm? Is this what was agreed at their last meeting, if it ever took place? The last of the three of us left alive will leave instructions as to where to find this evidence. Archie had been the last of the three. Why had he decided to pass on his secret in this way?

The house is dark. Michelle and Rebecca must both be in bed, but when Nelson goes into the study he sees that the computer is still on. By the blue light of the computer screen, he takes the letter from his pocket and reads:

Dear Archie and Hugh,

By the time you get this I will be long dead. I have asked my younger sister to post this on her eightieth birthday which will be in the year 2001. Can you imagine that date? I can’t. What I think is that the world will have ended by then. Maybe some asteroid will have hit us just like Hugh is always saying.

I’m sorry but I just can’t live with it. Knowing what we did to those poor fellows that night. I keep dreaming about it, and in my dreams they are coming for me because they know it was my fault. I should have stopped them. I know you tried, Hugh, but it wasn’t enough. I know we have made the film so that one day everyone will know what happened but I can’t help thinking that we need some sort of sacrifice. A life for a life. So that is what I am going to do. Tomorrow morning, before it is light, I am going down to the beach at Broughton. I am going to swim out beyond Sea’s End Point. I am going to swim and swim until I can swim no more and then I am going to let the sea take me. It sounds beautiful put like that, doesn’t it? I don’t think it will be beautiful but it will be right. Then maybe the rest of you can live your lives in peace.

I hope so much that you will be reading this at the end of long, happy lives.

Your friend,

Danny

Nelson sits there for a long time in the dark, the letter in his hand. He is sure, beyond any doubt, that this is the letter that Archie was reading on the night that he died. The letter that he had hidden for so many years inside the Agatha Christie classic. Was the title somehow significant? Evil Under the Sun? But these murders were committed by the light of the moon, witnessed only by Jack Hastings’ wakeful little brother, himself now dead.

Archie’s memories must have been stirred by Nelson’s visit, which is why he went to sleep that night with the word ‘Lucifer’ on his lips. Lucifer – the plan to turn the seas into fire. Or maybe even a reference to Buster Hastings, the ‘old devil’ himself, the man who had murdered five people in cold blood (not forgetting the man killed by his loyal sergeant) and forced his troop to take a blood oath, promising to keep his secret forever. Archie had kept his