Read Online To Perish in Penzance by Jeanne M. Dams - Free Book Online

reached in the pocket of my jacket. Yes, it was still there. Only a throwaway camera, but it had a flash. Considerably better than the thirties model Harriet had had at her disposal.
    Clutching my stick and gritting my teeth, I splashed through the water, much deeper now, and entered the cave.
    How far in would I have to go? How far in could I force myself to go?
    There’s no danger, I told myself. The tide will never rise anywhere near the roof of the cave. You won’t drown. There is no reason whatever to be afraid.
    I was sweating profusely, and I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs.
    You are a photographer, a technician. You have no emotions. You are a recording device
. I repeated the phrases over and over in my mind like a mantra as I pointed and shot, pointed and shot, working almost blind in the dimness. The body first, from as close as I could make myself go. Then the cave, pointing the camera in all directions. The rocky, rapidly disappearing floor. The walls. The area behind the body—I wouldn’t think of it as Alexis—from two different angles.
    When I had run out of film, I secured the camera in the breast pocket of my shirt. It made an odd bulge, but it would be safe and dry there, with the jacket zippered shut. Then I waded out of the cave, staggering as a wave reached nearly to my knees and tried to knock me off my feet.
    Once I was out on the rocks I sought a secluded corner, far enough up the shore to be out of the water at the moment, but close enough to the sea that the tide would reach it soon. Having found an appropriate spot, I was able to relax and let myself lose my breakfast.
    I stood taking deep breaths of the lovely, cool air that surrounded me and looking at the vast sea, the ocean that stretched out without an enclosed space between here and France, or so I supposed. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking. It wasn’t the body, I thought as I wiped my mouth. That wasn’t so very awful, if I could forget for a while that it was someone I had known and liked. No blood or other obvious horrors. And the cave was actually just a cleft in the rock, not really a cave, not a deep, dark cavern with the earth pressing down on one’s head …
    My body discovered that there was a little more in my stomach, and purged itself anew.
    When it was all over, I had to rinse my mouth with seawater. It tasted terrible, and the salt burned my lips and cheeks, but it was better than the other taste. Then I found a higher rock and sat to wait for my husband.
    He came about ten minutes later, accompanied by the scene-of-crime officers, several men in uniform and plain clothes and two in wet suits. He showed them the cave and then hurried back to me.
    â€œAll right, love?”
    â€œI was sick,” I said. “Over there. I thought maybe I should tell you, so if they find it, they’ll know it was me.”
    He sat and reached an arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I was afraid you’d be upset.”
    I leaned against his arm. “My dear man, sometimes you are so very English! Of course I’m upset about Lexa, but that’s not what made me sick. I had to go back into the cave.”
    I explained about the tide and the pictures. “I have no idea whether they’ll do any good. I don’t even know what they’ll show. It was dark in there. I hope the flash gave enough light, but of course when it flashed I was blinded and couldn’t see what I hope the camera saw. I’m sorry I had to go tromping around in there, but I couldn’t just let the sea take away evidence, in case there’s any to take away.”
    â€œI’m glad you went in, Dorothy, and I must say it was very brave of you. It took much longer for Penzance to organize a team than it ought to have done, and I was concerned about the tide, too. They’re going to have a job getting her out, now, without getting her wet.”
    â€œWill it matter so much?