Into the Water 19 страница

Erin didn’t answer her phone, so I left a message and drove on to the station. I parked outside and called again, but again there was no answer, so I decided to wait for her. Half an hour went by and I decided to go in anyway. If Sean was there, I’d make an excuse, I’d pretend I thought that Lena’s statement had been scheduled for nine, not eleven. I’d think of something.

As it turned out, he wasn’t there. Neither of them was. The man on the desk told me DI Townsend was in Newcastle for the day, and that he wasn’t entirely sure of the whereabouts of DS Morgan, but he had no doubt she’d be in any minute.

I went back to my car. I took your bracelet out of my pocket – I’d put it into a plastic bag to protect it. To protect whatever was on it. The chances of there being a fingerprint or some DNA trapped within its links were slim, but slim was something. Slim was a possibility. Slim was a shot at an answer. Nickie said you were dead because you found out something about Patrick Townsend; Lena said you were dead because you fell in love with Sean and he with you, and Helen Townsend, jealous, vengeful Helen, would not stand for that. No matter which way I turned, I saw Townsends.

Metaphorically. Literally, I saw Nickie Sage, looming large in the rear-view mirror. She was shuffling across the car park, achingly slowly, her face pink under a big floppy hat. She reached the back of my car and leaned against it, and I could hear her laboured breathing through the open window.

‘Nickie. ’ I got out of the car. ‘Are you all right? ’ She didn’t respond. ‘Nickie? ’ Up close, she looked like she might be on her last legs.

‘I need a lift, ’ she gasped. ‘Been on my feet for hours. ’

I helped her into the car. Her clothes were soaked with sweat. ‘Where on earth have you been, Nickie? What have you been doing? ’

‘Walking, ’ she wheezed. ‘Up by the Wards’ cottage. Listening to the river. ’

‘You do realize that the river runs right past your own front door, don’t you? ’

She shook her head. ‘Not the same river. You think it’s all the same, but it changes. It has a different spirit up there. Sometimes you need to travel to hear its voice. ’

I turned left just before the bridge towards the square. ‘Up here, yes? ’ She nodded, still gulping for air. ‘Perhaps you should get someone to give you a lift next time you feel like travelling. ’

She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. ‘You volunteering? I didn’t imagine you’d be sticking around. ’

We sat in the car for a bit when we reached her flat. I didn’t have the heart to make her get out and walk upstairs straight away, so instead I listened while she told me why I should stay in Beckford, why it would be good for Lena to stay by the water, why I’d never hear my sister’s voice if I left.

‘I don’t believe in all that stuff, Nickie, ’ I said.

‘Of course you do, ’ she said crossly.

‘OK. ’ I wasn’t going to argue. ‘So. You were up by the Wards’ cottage? That’s the place where Erin Morgan is staying, right? You didn’t see her, did you? ’

‘I did. She’d been out running around somewhere. Then she was running off somewhere else, probably to bark up the wrong tree. Banging on about Helen Townsend, when I told her it wasn’t Helen she should be bothering with. No one listens to me. Lauren, I said, not Helen. But no one ever listens. ’

She gave me the Townsends’ address. The address and a warning: ‘If the old man thinks you know something, he’ll hurt you. You’ve got to be smart. ’ I didn’t tell her about the bracelet, or that it was she, not Erin, who was barking up the wrong tree.

Erin

HELEN KEPT LOOKING up at the window, as though she was expecting someone to appear.

‘You’re expecting Sean back, are you? ’ I asked her.

She shook her head. ‘No. Why would he be coming back? He’s in Newcastle, talking to the brass about the Henderson mess. Surely you knew that? ’

‘He didn’t tell me, ’ I said. ‘It must have slipped his mind. ’ She raised her eyebrows in an expression of disbelief. ‘He can be absent-minded, can’t he? ’ I went on. Her eyebrows rose further still. ‘I mean, not that it affects his work or anything, but sometimes—’

‘Do stop talking, ’ she snapped.

She was impossible to read, veering from polite to exasperated, timid to aggressive; angry one minute and frightened the next. It was making me very nervous. This small, mousey, unimpressive woman sitting opposite me was frightening me because I had no idea what she was going to do next – offer me another cuppa or come at me with the knife.

She pushed her chair back suddenly, its feet screeching against the tiles, got to her feet and went to the window. ‘He’s been gone ages, ’ she said quietly.

‘Who has? Patrick? ’

She ignored me. ‘He walks in the mornings, but not usually for so long. He’s not well. I …’

‘Do you want to go and look for him? ’ I asked. ‘I could come with you if you like. ’

‘He goes up to that cottage almost every day, ’ she said, talking as though I wasn’t there, as though she couldn’t hear me. ‘I don’t know why. That’s where Sean used to take her. That’s where they … Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m not even sure what the right thing is any more. ’ She’d balled her right hand into a fist, a red bloom blossoming on her pristine white bandage.

‘I was so happy when Nel Abbott died, ’ she said. ‘We all were. It was such a relief. But short-lived. Short-lived. Because now I can’t help wondering if it’s caused us even more trouble. ’ She turned, finally, to look at me. ‘Why are you here? And please don’t lie, because I’m not in the mood today. ’ She raised her hand to her face and as she wiped her mouth, bright blood smeared over her lips.

I reached into my pocket for my phone and pulled it out. ‘I think maybe it’s time I left, ’ I said, getting slowly to my feet. ‘I came here to talk to Sean, but since he’s not here …’

‘He isn’t absent-minded, you know, ’ she said, taking a step to her left so that she stood between me and the passage to the front door. ‘He has absences, but that’s a different thing. No, if he didn’t tell you he was going to Newcastle, that’s because he doesn’t trust you, and if he doesn’t trust you, I’m not sure that I should. I’m only going to ask once more, ’ she said, ‘why you are here. ’

I nodded, making a conscious effort to drop my shoulders, to stay relaxed. ‘As I said, I wanted to speak to Sean. ’

‘About? ’

‘About an allegation of improper conduct, ’ I said. ‘About his relationship with Nel Abbott. ’

Helen stepped towards me and I felt a sickeningly sharp kick of adrenaline to my gut. ‘There will be consequences, won’t there? ’ she said, a sad smile on her face. ‘How could we have imagined that there wouldn’t be? ’

‘Helen, ’ I said, ‘I just need to know—’

I heard the front door slam and stepped back quickly, putting some space between us, as Patrick entered the room.

For a moment, none of us said anything. He stared at me, eyes on mine, jaw working, while he took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair. Then he turned his attention to Helen. He noticed her bloody hand and was immediately animated.

‘What happened? Did she do something to you? Darling …’

Helen blushed and something in the pit of my stomach squirmed. ‘It’s nothing, ’ she said quickly. ‘It’s nothing. It wasn’t her. My hand slipped when I was chopping onions …’

Patrick looked at her other hand, at the knife she still held. Gently, he took it from her. ‘What’s she doing here? ’ he asked, without looking at me.

Helen cocked her head to one side, looking from her father-in-law to me and back again. ‘She’s been asking questions, ’ she said, ‘about Nel Abbott. ’ She swallowed. ‘About Sean. About his professional conduct. ’

‘I just need to clarify something, it’s procedural, relating to the handling of the investigation. ’

Patrick didn’t seem interested. He sat down at the kitchen table without looking at me. ‘Do you know, ’ he said to Helen, ‘why they moved her up here? I asked around – I still know people, of course, and I spoke to one of my former colleagues down in London, and he told me that this fine detective here was removed from her post in the Met because she’d seduced a younger colleague. And not just any colleague, a woman! Can you imagine that? ’ His dry laugh segued into a hacking smoker’s cough. ‘Here she is, chasing down your Mr Henderson, while she’s guilty of exactly the same thing. An abuse of power for her own sexual gratification. And she still has a job. ’ He lit a cigarette. ‘And then she comes here and says she wants to talk about my son’s professional conduct! ’

Finally, he looked at me. ‘You should have been thrown off the force altogether, but because you’re a woman, because you’re a dyke, you’re allowed to get away with it. That’s what they call equality. ’ He scoffed. ‘Can you imagine what would happen if it were a man? If Sean got caught sleeping with one of his juniors, he’d be out on his ear. ’

I balled my hands into fists to stop them shaking. ‘How about if Sean was sleeping with a woman who ended up dead? ’ I asked. ‘What d’you think would happen to him then? ’

He moves quickly for an old guy. He was on his feet, chair crashing back, and his hand around my throat in what seemed like less than a second. ‘Watch your mouth, you dirty bitch, ’ he whispered, breathing sour smoke in my face. I gave him a good hard shove in the chest and he let me go.

He stepped back, his arms by his sides, fists clenched. ‘My son has done nothing wrong, ’ he said quietly. ‘So if you make trouble for him, girlie, I’ll make trouble for you. Do you understand that? You’ll get it back with interest. ’

‘Dad, ’ Helen said. ‘That’s enough. You’re scaring her. ’

He turned to his daughter-in-law with a smile. ‘I know, love. I mean to. ’ He looked back at me and smiled again. ‘With some of them, it’s the only thing they understand. ’

Jules

I LEFT THE car on the side of the track leading to the Townsends’ place. I didn’t need to, there was plenty of space to park in their courtyard, but it felt right that I should. This felt like it ought to be a furtive mission, like I ought to surprise them. The fearless relic, the one who appeared the day I confronted my rapist, was back. The bracelet in my pocket, I strode into that sun-drenched courtyard, straight-backed and resolute. I had come on behalf of my sister, to make things right for her. I was determined. I was unafraid.

I was unafraid until Patrick Townsend opened the door to me, his face stained with rage, a knife in his hand.

‘What do you want? ’ he demanded.

I took a couple of steps away from the front door. ‘I …’ He was about to slam the door in my face and I was too frightened to say what I needed to. He did for his wife, Nickie had told me, and for your sister, too. ‘I was …’

‘Jules? ’ a voice called out to me. ‘Is that you? ’

It was quite a scene. Helen was there, with blood on her hand and her face, and Erin, too, doing a poor job of pretending that she was in control of the situation. She greeted me with a cheery smile. ‘What brings you here? We’re supposed to be meeting at the station. ’

‘Yes, I know, I …’

‘Spit it out, ’ Patrick muttered. My skin prickled with heat, breath shortening. ‘You Abbotts! Christ, what a family! ’ His voice rose as he slammed the knife down on the kitchen table. ‘I remember you, you know? Obese, weren’t you, when you were younger? ’ He turned to speak to Helen. ‘Disgusting fat thing, she was. And the parents! Pathetic. ’ My hands were trembling as he turned back to look at me. ‘I suppose the mother had an excuse, because she was dying, but someone should have taken them in hand. You ran wild, didn’t you, you and your sister? And look how well you both turned out! She was mentally unstable, and you … well. What are you? Simple? ’

‘That’s quite enough, Mr Townsend, ’ Erin said. She took my arm. ‘Come on, let’s get you to the station. We need to get Lena’s statement. ’

‘Ah yes, the girl. That one will go the same way as her mother, she’s got the same dirty look about her, filthy mouth, the kind of face you want to slap—’

‘You spend a lot of time thinking about doing things to my teenage niece, do you? ’ I said loudly. ‘Do you think that’s appropriate? ’ My anger was roused again, and Patrick wasn’t ready for it. ‘Well? Do you? Disgusting old man. ’ I turned to Erin. ‘I’m actually not quite ready to leave yet, ’ I said. ‘But I’m glad you’re here, Erin, I think it’s appropriate, because the reason I came was not to speak to him, ’ I jerked my head in Patrick’s direction, ‘but to her. To you, Mrs Townsend. ’ My hand trembling, I fished the little plastic bag out of my pocket and placed it on the table, next to the knife. ‘I wanted to ask you, when did you take this bracelet from my sister’s wrist? ’

Helen’s eyes widened and I knew that she was guilty.

‘Where did the bracelet come from, Jules? ’ Erin asked.

‘From Lena. Who got it from Mark Henderson. Who took it from Helen. Who, I’m guessing from the guilty-as-sin look on her face, took it from my sister before she killed her. ’

Patrick started laughing, a loud, fake bark of a laugh. ‘She took it from Lena, who took it from Mark, who took it from Helen, who took it from the fairy on the fucking Christmas tree! Sorry, love, ’ he apologized to Helen, ‘excuse my French, but what utter garbage. ’

‘It was in your office, wasn’t it, Helen? ’ I looked at Erin. ‘It’ll have prints on it, DNA, won’t it? ’

Patrick chuckled again, but Helen looked stricken. ‘No, I …’ she said at last, her eyes flicking from me to Erin to her father-in-law. ‘It was … No. ’ She took a deep breath. ‘I found it, ’ she said. ‘But I didn’t know … I didn’t know it was hers. I just … I kept it. I was going to hand it in to lost property. ’

‘You found it where, Helen? ’ Erin asked. ‘You found it at the school? ’

Helen glanced at Patrick and then back to the detective, as though considering whether the lie would hold. ‘I think that I … yes, I did. And, er, I didn’t know whose it was, so …’

‘My sister wore that bracelet all the time, ’ I said. ‘It has my mother’s initials on it. I’m finding it a bit hard to believe you didn’t realize what it was, that it was important. ’

‘I didn’t, ’ Helen said, but her voice was thin and her face was reddening.

‘Of course she didn’t know! ’ Patrick shouted suddenly. ‘Of course she didn’t know whose it was or where it came from. ’ He went quickly to her side, placing his hand on her shoulder. ‘Helen had the bracelet because I left it in her car. Careless of me. I was going to throw it out, I meant to, but … I’ve become rather forgetful. I’ve become forgetful, haven’t I, darling? ’ Helen said nothing, she didn’t move. ‘I left it in the car, ’ he said again.

‘OK, ’ Erin said. ‘And where did you get it? ’

He looked right at me when he answered her. ‘Where do you think I got it, you moron? I ripped it off that whore’s wrist before I threw her over. ’

Patrick

HE HAD LOVED her a long time, but never so much as in the moment when she flew to his defence.

‘That is not what happened! ’ Helen sprang to her feet. ‘That is not … Don’t! Don’t you take the blame for this, Dad, that is not what happened. You didn’t … you didn’t even …’

Patrick smiled at her, reaching out a hand. She took it and he pulled her closer. She was soft, but not weak, her modesty, her unashamed plainness more stirring than any facile beauty. It moved him now – he felt his blood rising, the pump of his weakened old heart.

No one spoke. The sister was crying silently, mouthing words without any sound. The detective watched him, watched Helen, something knowing in her face.

‘Are you …? ’ She shook her head, lost for words. ‘Mr Townsend, I …’

‘Come on, then! ’ He felt suddenly irritable, desperate to get away from the woman’s evident distress. ‘For Christ’s sake, you’re a police officer, do what you have to do. ’

Erin took a deep breath and stepped towards him. ‘Patrick Townsend, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Danielle Abbott. You do not have to say anything—’

‘Yes, yes, yes, all right, ’ he said wearily. ‘I know, I know all that. God. Women like you, you don’t ever know when to stop talking. ’ Then he turned to Helen. ‘But you, darling, you do. You know when to speak and when to be quiet. You tell the truth, my girl. ’

She started to cry, and he wanted more than anything to be beside her, in the room upstairs, just one last time, before he was taken away from her. He kissed her forehead then, and before he followed the detective out of the door, bid her goodbye.

Patrick had never been one for mysticism, for gut feelings or hunches, but if he was honest, he’d felt this coming: the reckoning. The endgame. He’d felt it long before they’d dragged Nel Abbott’s cold corpse out of the water, only he’d dismissed it as a symptom of age. His mind had been playing a lot of tricks lately, boosting the colour and the sound in his old memories, blurring the edges of his new ones. He knew it was the start of it, the long goodbye, that he would be eaten from the inside out, core to husk. He could be grateful, at least, that he still had time to tie up the loose ends, to seize control. It was, he realized now, the only way to salvage something of the life they’d built, though he knew that not everyone could be spared.

When they sat him in the interview room at Beckford station, he thought at first that the humiliation was more than he could bear, but bear it he did. What made it easier, he found, was the surprising sensation of relief. He wanted to tell his story. If it was going to come out, then he should be the one to tell it, while he still had time, while his mind was still his own. More than just relief, there was pride. All his life, there had been a part of him that had wanted to tell what had happened the night Lauren died, but he hadn’t been able to. He had held back, out of love for his son.

He spoke in short, simple sentences. He was very clear. He expressed his intention to make a full confession to the murders of Lauren Slater in 1983 and Danielle Abbott in 2015.

Lauren was easier, of course. It was a straightforward tale. They had argued at the house. She had attacked him, and he had defended himself, and in the course of that defence she had been seriously wounded, too grievously to save. So, in an effort to spare his son the truth, and – he admitted – to spare himself a prison sentence, he drove her to the river, carried her body to the top of the cliff, and threw her, lifeless now, into the water.

DS Morgan listened politely, but she stopped him there. ‘Was your son with you at this time, Mr Townsend? ’ she asked.

‘He didn’t see anything, ’ Patrick replied. ‘He was too little, and too frightened, to understand what was happening. He didn’t see his mother get hurt, and he didn’t see her fall. ’

‘He didn’t watch you throw her from the cliff? ’

It took every ounce of his strength not to leap across the table and smack her. ‘He didn’t see anything. I had to put him in the car because I couldn’t leave a six-year-old alone in the house during a thunderstorm. If you had children, you would understand that. He didn’t see anything. He was confused, and so I told him … a version of the truth that would make sense to him. That he could make sense of. ’

‘A version of the truth? ’

‘I told him a story – that’s what you do with children, with things they won’t be able to understand. I told him a story he could live with, one which would make his life liveable. Don’t you see that? ’ Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his voice from rising. ‘I wasn’t going to leave him alone, was I? His mother was gone, and if I went to prison, what would have happened to him then? What sort of life would he have had? He would have been put in care. I’ve seen what happens to kids who grow up in care, there’s not one of them that doesn’t come out damaged and perverted. I have protected him, ’ Patrick said, pride swelling his chest, ‘all his life. ’

The story of Nel Abbott was, inevitably, less easy to recount. When he discovered that she had been speaking to Nickie Sage and taking her allegations about Lauren seriously, he became concerned. Not that she would go to the police, no. She wasn’t interested in justice or anything like that, she was only interested in sensationalizing her worthless art. What concerned him was that she might say something upsetting to Sean. Once again, he was protecting his son. ‘It’s what fathers do, ’ he pointed out. ‘Though you might not be aware of that. I’m told yours was a boozer. ’ He smiled at Erin Morgan, watching her flinch as that punch landed. ‘I’m told he had a temper. ’

He said that he arranged to meet Nel Abbott late one evening to speak about the allegations.

‘And she went to meet you at the cliff? ’ DS Morgan was incredulous.

Patrick smiled. ‘You never met her. You have no idea of the extent of her vanity, her self-importance. All I had to do was suggest to her that I would take her through exactly what happened between Lauren and me. I would show her how the terrible events of that night unfolded, right there, on the spot where they took place. I would tell her the story as it had never been told before, she would be the first to hear it. Then, once I had her up there, it was easy. She’d been drinking, she was unsteady on her feet. ’

‘And the bracelet? ’

Patrick shifted in his seat and forced himself to look DS Morgan directly in the eye. ‘There was a bit of a struggle, and I grabbed her arm as she was trying to pull away from me. Her bracelet came off her wrist. ’

‘You ripped it off – that’s what you told me earlier, isn’t it? ’ She looked down at her notes. ‘You “ripped it off that whore’s wrist”? ’

Patrick nodded. ‘Yes. I was angry, I’ll admit. I was angry that she had been carrying on with my son, threatening his marriage. She seduced him. Even the strongest and most moral of men can find themselves in thrall to a woman who offers herself in that way …’

‘In what way? ’

Patrick ground his teeth. ‘Offering a sort of sexual abandon he might not find at home. It’s sad, I know. It happens. I was angry about it. My son’s marriage is very strong. ’ Patrick saw DS Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up, and again, he had to steel himself. ‘I was angry about that. I ripped the bracelet from her wrist. I pushed her. ’

PART FOUR

SEPTEMBER

Lena

I THOUGHT I wouldn’t want to leave, but I can’t look at the river every day, cross it on my way to school. I don’t even want to swim in it any more. It’s too cold now, in any case. We’re going to London tomorrow, I’m almost all packed.

The house will be rented out. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want people living in our rooms and filling up our spaces, but Jules said that if we didn’t we might get squatters, or things might start to fall apart and there would be no one there to pick up the pieces, and I didn’t like that idea either. So I agreed.

It’ll still be mine. Mum left it to me, so when I’m eighteen (or twenty-one, or something like that) it’ll be mine properly. And I will live here again. I know I will. I’ll come back when it doesn’t hurt so much and I don’t see her everywhere I look.

I’m scared about going to London, but I feel better about it than I did. Jules (not Julia) is really odd, she’s always going to be odd, she’s fucked up. But I’m a bit weird and fucked up too, so maybe we’ll be fine. There are things I like about her. She cooks and fusses around me, she tells me off for smoking, she makes me tell her where I’m going and when I’ll be back. Like other people’s mums do.

In any case, I’m glad it’ll just be the two of us, no husband and I’m guessing no boyfriends or anything like that, and at least when I go to my new school no one will know who I am or anything about me. You can remake yourself, Jules said, which I thought was a bit off because, like, what’s wrong with me? But I know what she meant. I cut all my hair off and I look different now, and when I go to the new school in London, I won’t be the pretty girl that no one likes, I’ll just be ordinary.

Josh

LENA CAME OVER to say goodbye. She’s cut all her hair off. She’s still pretty, but not as pretty as she used to be. I said I liked it more when it was longer and she laughed and said it’ll grow back. She said, it’ll be long again next time you see me, and that made me feel better because at least she thinks that we’ll see each other again, which I wasn’t sure about, because she’ll be in London now and we’re going to Devon, which is not exactly close by. But she said it wasn’t that far, only five hours or something, and in a few years she would have her driver’s licence and she’d come and get me and see what trouble we could get into.

We sat in my room for a bit. It was kind of awkward because we didn’t know what to say to each other. I asked if she’d had any more news and she sort of looked blank and I said, about Mr Henderson, and she shook her head. She didn’t seem to want to talk about it. There’s been lots of rumours – people at school are saying that she killed him and pushed him into the sea. I think it’s rubbish, but even if it isn’t, I wouldn’t blame her.

I know it would have made Katie really unhappy for something to happen to Mr Henderson, but she doesn’t know, does she? There’s no such thing as an afterlife. All that matters are the people who are left, and I think that things have improved. Mum and Dad aren’t happy, but they’re getting better, they’re different than they were. Relieved, maybe? Like they don’t have to wonder any more, about why. They’ve got something they can point to and say, there, that’s why. Something to hold on to, someone said, and I can see that, although for me I don’t think any of it will ever make any sense.

Louise

THE SUITCASES WERE in the car and the boxes were labelled and just before noon they would hand over the keys. Josh and Alec were doing a quick tour of Beckford, saying their goodbyes, but Louise had stayed behind.

Some days were better than others.

Louise had stayed to say goodbye to the house where her daughter had lived, the only home she’d ever known. She had to bid farewell to the height chart in the cupboard under the stairs, to the stone step in the garden where Katie had fallen and cut her knee, where for the first time Louise had had to face that her child wouldn’t be perfect, she would be blemished, scarred. She had to say goodbye to her bedroom, where she and her daughter had sat and chatted while Katie blow-dried her hair and applied her lipstick and said that she was going to Lena’s later and would it be all right if she stayed the night? How many times, she wondered, had that been a lie?

(The thing that kept her awake at night – one of the things – was that day by the river when she’d been so touched, so moved, to see tears in Mark Henderson’s eyes when he offered his condolences. )

Lena had come to say goodbye and had brought with her Nel’s manuscript, the pictures, the notes, a USB with all the computer files. ‘Do what you want with it, ’ she said. ‘Burn it if you like. I don’t want to look at any of it again. ’ Louise was glad that Lena had come, and gladder still that she would never have to see her again. ‘Can you forgive me, do you think? ’ Lena asked. ‘Will you ever? ’ And Louise said that she already had, which was a lie, spoken out of kindness.

⇐ Предыдущая 14 15 16 17 181920 21 22 23 Следующая ⇒