meadow. The woods are heavy there, but there’s a little green hollow between the path and the bank. He was there on Sunday when Becca was rowing, then again on Monday evening, the same time. When I thought about it afterwards, I realized he wasn’t actually fishing, although he had some gear. It was more like he was— waiting.
“So, this afternoon, I went to look. There was a footprint in the mud, and the edge of the bank looked churned up, as if there’d been a struggle. Becca would have been rowing close to shore there, going upriver, and as late as she was, it would have been almost completely dark . . . She wouldn’t have seen someone until she was right on top of them.”
“How deep is the river there?” Kincaid asked.
“Not very. A few feet, maybe, that close to the bank.”
“So you think this—fisherman—could have waded in and capsized her?”
“He’d have to have known how.”
“Ah.” Kincaid sat back in his chair, feeling the weight of what had happened to Becca Meredith. Kieran’s story made sense, put together with what they had already learned. “I think perhaps he did. You see, we found evidence, both on the body and the shell. It looks as if she was held under the boat with her own oar.”
“Oh, God.” Kieran’s face grew almost as white as the gauze on his forehead. “I thought—I thought I was just being paranoid.” His eyes filled. “Why? Why would someone do that to her?”
“I was hoping you might tell me.”
Shaking his head, Kieran said, “I can’t imagine. Becca was—she could be sharp with people, you know? She had to be tough, with her job, and rowers in general aren’t the most patient sort. But she’d never deliberately hurt someone.”
“What about her competition? Would someone have wanted to put her out of the running that badly?”
“Oh, no.” Kieran sounded horrified. “Not the girls at Leander. I know them—they’re great. I’ve worked on their boats. And besides, I don’t think anyone really knew how serious Becca was or how good she was. That’s one reason she rowed in the evenings, and on Saturdays she stayed downriver, away from the crew’s normal training course. She didn’t want people clocking her.”
“Milo Jachym knew.”
“You’ve talked to Milo?” Kieran looked surprised, then nodded, thinking about it. “Yeah, Milo knew. But he’d coached her, and they were friends. He’s a good guy.”
Kincaid reserved judgment. Milo seemed like a nice bloke, and had appeared genuinely grieved about Becca’s death as well as concerned about Freddie. But how many more chances would Milo have to get one of his own female crew an Olympic slot? Not to mention that Becca would have trusted him if he’d called to her from the bank—and he would certainly have known how to capsize a rower.
Tavie, who’d been sitting on the edge of her chair, making an obvious effort not to interrupt, stood up and went to her dining table. Shuffling through a stack of papers, she said, “Kieran, this place—you mean upstream from Temple Island, right?”
“Yeah, it’s—”
Tavie held up a sheet of paper. “I know exactly where it is. The team on that sector had a minor alert there. It’s in the log.”
“What do you mean, a minor alert?” Kincaid asked.
“The dogs showed some interest, but seemed confused and moved on. We log any alert—sometimes they’ll form a pattern that will help us locate a victim. But this was isolated.”
Kincaid frowned. “Could the dogs have picked up Becca’s scent there, even though she was never on shore?”
“It’s possible. And he—Kieran’s fisherman—may have had it on his clothes or gear.”
“They picked up her scent from the Filippi,” Kieran said, “and it was in the water.”
“Right.” Kincaid thought of the times he’d watched Geordie, their cocker spaniel, run in the park, ears flying, nose to the ground, and he’d envied the rich sensory world that was beyond his perception. “Can I make copies of your log and your maps? I’ll have someone return the originals to you as soon as possible.”
When Tavie nodded, he turned back to Kieran. “You saw this fisherman from the opposite bank. Would you recognize him?”
“It was almost dark both days, and he wore a hat that shadowed his face. The only thing I’d be willing to swear to was that it was a man.”
“Not a tall woman?”
Kieran thought for a moment. “No. The body shape was wrong. Too wide in the shoulders. And something about the way he stood—with his legs apart.”
“Okay, we’ll go with that. But that leaves us with another big question. If we assume that the same person attacked you, how did he know who you were and where you lived? Could he have recognized you and been afraid you’d recognized him?”
“I—I don’t know. I run almost every day, and I suppose people round here know who I am, but—there’s something more. This afternoon, when I found the hollow, I could have sworn someone was watching me. Eyes between the shoulder blades. You know the feeling.”
“You think he saw you there?”
“I thought I was imagining things. But I suppose it’s possible . . .” A slight shudder ran through Kieran’s body. Finn lifted his head and Kieran reached down to stroke the dog, as if comforting them both.
“Could he have followed you today?” Kincaid asked.
“I think I’d have seen someone crossing the meadow behind me, even in the dusk.” Kieran paused, thinking it through. “But he’d have known the footpath crosses the Marlow Road. If he got back to the road by a shorter way and picked up a car, he could have seen me as I came back into Henley . . .”
“You and Finn are not exactly unnoticeable,” Kincaid agreed. “What about before the fire tonight? Did you hear anything, see anything?”
Eyes wide, Kieran said, “I’d forgotten. There was a splash. Finn heard it, too, I think. It might have been an oar.”
“So you think your arsonist came by boat?”
“It
Kincaid thought of the myriad of boats moored up and down both sides of Henley Bridge and gave an inner groan. Someone could easily have taken a skiff from one of the boat hire firms. Uniform branch would have their work cut out for them, trying to trace a temporarily missing boat.
He stood. There were many things to set in motion. “The arson team will get started on your shed at first light, Kieran. We’ll see what they turn up. In the meantime, I certainly think it best if you stay here.
“Tavie, I’m going to send a uniformed officer for the map and the log. I want someone guarding that spot until I can get the SOCOs there in the morning.”
Kieran pushed himself up out of the chair, although he wobbled a bit. Both the dogs jumped up as well, panting gently in anticipation of a new activity.
“Thank you,” Kieran said simply.
“I’m the one should be thanking you. Both of you.” He included Tavie with a brief smile, then turned back to Kieran. “But there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell us yesterday, when we found the Filippi, that you had a relationship with Rebecca Meredith?”
“I—I just—I suppose all I could think was to do what she wanted. And she didn’t want anyone to know about us.”
“Why? You were both single adults.”
“I used to believe it was because she was ashamed of me.” Kieran looked down at his blood- and soot- spattered clothes. “Even at the best of times, I’m not exactly the guy you introduce at office parties or take to your family’s Christmas dinner.”
“Would her ex-husband have minded that she was seeing someone?”
Kieran considered. “I don’t think so. At least, they seemed to be friends. But she said—one time when we’d
