Tower he was very jumpy. Nervous. Stressed.”
“He didn’t say why?”
“Didn’t need to. The details he told me about his financial situation were enough to make anyone stressed.” Suddenly Nuala Cullan seemed to lose patience. “Look, what is this all about? You got in touch with me because you said you knew something about Mark’s whereabouts. I don’t have the whole evening to waste. Tell me where he is.”
It was Carole who answered. “He was seen down in Smalting in the small hours of last Tuesday morning.”
“Oh? So he’s back with Little Miss Perfect, is he?”
“Philly Rose said she hadn’t seen him since May.”
“Has it occurred to you she might be lying?”
“I don’t think she would,” said Jude.
“Oh, I see. So you’ve been fooled by her wide-eyed innocent look, have you?”
More than I have by yours, thought Jude. But all she said was, “I thought you hadn’t met her.”
“I don’t need to meet her. I know the kind of woman Mark would be a sucker for.”
“But he was a sucker for you at one point. I wouldn’t have thought ‘wide-eyed innocent’ was a very accurate description of you,” said Carole with some asperity.
“No, you’re right. It isn’t.” Nuala Cullan smiled a feline, controlling smile. “Our relationship was very powerful, passionate, but also potentially toxic. Mark couldn’t always keep up with me. I am strong liquor, the hard stuff, you see. And Mark’s basically a coward. Which is why he opted instead for milky afternoon tea in Smalting.”
“Anyway,” said Carole, who had had quite enough of this preening, “when Mark was seen down there last Tuesday morning, there was a woman with him.”
“So?”
“Philly’s first thought when she heard was that the woman must be you.”
“Why?”
“Because she thought you and Mark were back together.”
“Well, I’ve told you, we’re not.” Nuala Cullan looked at the small Rolex on her slender wrist. “And is that all you’ve come to tell me? That he’s been seen? Or can you actually tell me where I can contact the bastard?”
“No,” said Carole rather feebly. “We just wanted to tell you he’s been seen down in Smalting.”
“Well, thank you very much,” came the sarcastic reply.
“We thought you’d want to know.”
“Why?”
“At least it proves he’s still alive,” said Jude.
“And why shouldn’t he be alive?” Nuala looked sardonically thoughtful. “Though if he were dead, it would in a way solve all my problems, wouldn’t it?”
“How?”
“I’m still his wife. I would inherit everything.”
“Though it doesn’t seem there’d be that much to inherit.”
“Don’t you believe it. Someone as canny as Mark’s always going to have something stashed away.” There was a gleam of pure greed in her eyes as she spoke.
Repelled by this, Jude said, “Well, he’s not dead, so the issue doesn’t really arise, does it?”
“No.” Nuala Cullan took another look at her watch and picked up her handbag. “I won’t say thank you, because so far as I’m concerned our meeting has been a total waste of time. But if you do find out where Mark is, let me know. You have my mobile number.” She stood up.
“And there wasn’t any other contact Mark gave you?” asked Jude, desperate to retrieve something from the situation.
The tall woman stood undecided for a moment. Her desire to be uncooperative conflicted with her interest in tracking down her absent husband. She still wanted to leech more money out of him.
She made up her mind. “There was a number he gave me, some acquaintance down in Smalting where he said I could leave a message. I tried it a few times, but my messages never got a response from Mark, so I stopped bothering.”
“Did you speak to this acquaintance of his?”
“No, the phone was always on voicemail.”
“Would you mind giving us the number?” asked Jude.
The area code was 01903, which covered Worthing, Littlehampton, Fethering and Smalting. Jude wrote it down, and Nuala Cullan walked out of Sec without a word of farewell.
The two women decided to have another glass of Sauvignon Blanc to bolster them for the slow train journey back to Fethering. And they both knew exactly why Mark Dennis had wanted to get away from his wife.
? Bones Under The Beach Hut ?
Twenty-Two
They were back home too late to do anything else that evening. And on the Wednesday morning Jude had to go and visit one of her Fethering clients who was immobilized with what the patient thought to be a slipped disc, but the healer knew to be anxiety about her daughter’s forthcoming wedding.
It was after her neighbour had gone – and therefore too late – when Carole realized that Jude had got the piece of paper with the phone number Nuala Cullan had given them. That was annoying. She’d been hoping that contact might offer some breakthrough on the intractable mystery that confronted them.
But even as she felt the frustration building within her, Carole received a phone call that brought her new information. It was from Curt Holderness.
She was surprised that he had rung back. The message had been left on his mobile without much optimism. But the fact that he had got back to her and his manner when he spoke gave Carole a lift. He was clearly still worried that she might draw the attention of the authorities to his lax approach to his job. Which gave her a position of power over him.
“You rang me, Carole. What can I do for you?” Curt Holderness’s opening words were breezy enough, but there was an encouraging undercurrent of anxiety in his voice.
“Oh, thank you so much for getting back to me. Yes, there was something I wanted to follow up with you, further to our previous conversation…”
She let the silence dangle for a moment and was rewarded by a nervous “What?” from the other end of the line.
“Oh, it was about that night, you know, when you saw Mark Dennis going on to Smalting Beach.”
“Yes.” He sounded relieved now he knew the subject of her enquiry. She wasn’t raising issues of low-grade local council corruption.
“You said that he was with a woman…”
“Yes.”
“…but you didn’t recognize her.”
“Right.”
“So could you give me a description of her?”
“Shortish.” If Nuala Cullan hadn’t already ruled herself out that would have done it. “I don’t know, it was fairly dark that night. Shortish, as I say, and maybe on the chubby side.”
“What age?”
His manner implied a shrug as he replied, “I don’t know. I mean, she wasn’t the kind of woman who made much impression, if you know what I mean. Just like plenty of women you see in the street, nothing remarkable about them.”
“Hair colour?”
“Blond, possibly.” He didn’t sound very sure.
“And how was Mark Dennis behaving with her?”
“What do you mean?”
