‘Just professionally, or socially as well?’
Barnwell went to speak, but Dimas cut across him.
‘Hold on, shouldn’t Monty have a solicitor?’
‘Sure. I was hoping to keep this informal for now, but if you want to come to the police station, Mr Barnwell, we can do this there and get you a solicitor.’
Barnwell frowned and gave Dimas an annoyed glance. ‘I’m fine here. I’m fine with informal.’
‘Good. Tell me about Dr Desmond.’
‘We both work at the hospital, so I see him there and we have a drink or a meal now and again. Theo’s met him through me.’
‘You’re friends?’
Barnwell paused. ‘Justin’s come here for dinner sometimes, and we’ve gone to his.’
‘Have you ever been partners?’
‘No. We’re friends. Gay men can be friends. We don’t all shag each other just for the sake of it.’
‘It would help if you can try to answer without the aggression. And do you socialise with Dr Darnley?’
‘Now and again.’
‘Where? At the Flare Bar?’ She dropped the name in deliberately and saw Dimas flinch.
‘Sometimes, if he happens to be there. He’s not a friend, as such. Scott’s been here with Justin, for dinner.’
‘Are Scott and Justin partners?’
‘They were. They split up recently.’
That placed a piece of the jigsaw. Barnwell was doling out information in small segments, trying to play cat and mouse. She wondered if Darnley had been lying to her about seeing Desmond with Barnwell, taking revenge on an ex. But if that was the case, why would Barnwell have beaten him up?
‘Why did they split up?’
‘Just not compatible, I suppose. I’ve not been party to the details.’
‘Would you tell me again where you were on the evening of the twenty-eighth of July 2013? I’d like the truth. If I don’t get it, I’ll arrest you and you’ll definitely need a solicitor.’
Barnwell licked his lips and stared at his hand. There was a faint thud from upstairs and the sound of water in pipes. Dimas cleared his throat. They were making an effort not to glance at each other.
Siv let a full minute pass and then sighed. ‘It’s been a long day. I can sit here for hours, but I really don’t want to. I’d remind you how serious this is. I’m conducting a murder inquiry.’
Dimas stood. ‘This nightmare can’t go on. Scott’s been talking. Just tell her, Monty.’ He took a step towards his partner, made a pleading gesture with a palm extended. ‘Just tell her, or I will.’ He sat down again.
Barnwell gave a slight, weary shoulder shrug. ‘Okay, okay.’ He swallowed and leaned forward, head down. ‘Justin rang me the evening Lyn vanished, at about half seven. I was watching TV with Theo. He was terribly upset, barely coherent and needed help. Justin used to have a drug dependency. He’d started using at medical school to help with the stress and long hours. I’d been supporting him with it, trying to get him to access help and kick the habit. If he’d been found out at work, he’d have been reported to the GMC and probably suspended. It would have been a huge disruption to his career. He’s clean now, but back then, he was using, mainly cocaine. He’d met a dealer outside the Flare Bar, in the side alley. There’d been an argument about the price and the dealer had pulled a knife, cut him across the chest and left him on the ground. Justin wasn’t badly wounded, but he was bleeding and shocked. I managed to calm him down enough to tell me what had happened and I went to meet him.’
‘What time was this?’
‘I was alarmed so I left immediately, just after twenty to eight. Justin didn’t want me to take him for medical attention because questions might be asked or the police involved, and then he’d be in real trouble professionally. I took him back to his home, patched up his superficial wound, made him a strong coffee and stayed with him until he was calmer and okay.’
‘What time did you get home?’
‘Around half ten.’
‘So you’ve been lying all this time about that night.’
‘But don’t you see?’ Dimas interrupted. ‘Monty couldn’t say where he’d been, because then Justin would have been in terrible trouble. He lied to protect a good friend who’s a dedicated doctor.’
Siv snapped at him. ‘Pity that Lyn didn’t have anyone protecting her so keenly that night.’
Dimas reddened. His face was a mask of misery. ‘That’s a bit low.’
‘I can go a lot lower when I’m fed bullshit. Which brings me back to you, Mr Dimas. Instead of being at home with your partner watching football, we now have several hours when you were alone at the time when your wife went missing, with no one to verify your whereabouts.’
‘I’ve told you the truth. I stayed in. I watched the football. I was terribly worried about Justin, and waiting for Monty to call to tell me how he was.’
Siv turned to Barnwell. ‘Did you phone Theo from Dr Desmond’s?’ Not that I can believe you if you say you did.
‘I phoned him once Justin was calmer, around a quarter to ten, to tell him that things were okay and I’d be home soon.’
‘That still leaves over two hours unaccounted for,’ Siv told Dimas.
He bit his lip. ‘I was at the flat, that’s all I can say. Jeff Downey rang just after Monty called, to tell me about Adam and how they’d been out searching for Lyn. I didn’t kill Lyn. I’d never have harmed her.’
‘I’m sorry I lied,’ Barnwell said. ‘I did it with good intentions.’
Siv was about to speak when the door handle rattled and Adam burst in, red-eyed. He stood in fleecy pyjamas, trembling and breathing heavily. Siv wondered how long he’d been listening.
‘Can’t you leave my dad alone? He’s done nothing wrong and all you’re doing is telling horrible, filthy lies about my mum!’ He jabbed a finger at Barnwell. ‘You, you fucking liar! You’re just causing trouble as usual and making everything worse. I bet Dad got arrested ’cos of you! I heard you arguing earlier. Sounds like you’ve been seeing someone else, after everything Dad put us through to be with you.’ He choked, and then battled on. ‘My mum was murdered and you’ve been protecting some fucking druggie and making my dad help you. Mum hated you and I hate you! I always have. I hate your sweaty fucking skin, the rancid casseroles you make, your hideous bonsai collection and the way you poke your big fat nose into everything. Why don’t you fuck off out of our lives?’
‘Adam . . .’ Dimas stepped towards his son but Adam pushed him hard in the chest, sobbed loudly and ran upstairs.
Siv stood. ‘I’ll go now. You need to see to Adam. Mr Barnwell, I want you to come to the station tomorrow to make a statement. I’ll have to verify what you’ve told me with Dr Desmond. If I find you’ve carried on lying, I will arrest you. Mr Dimas, I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, don’t forget your bail conditions.’
* * *
Adam waited until he heard his father and Monty go to bed. He crept downstairs, found his father’s phone and checked through recent emails and texts. He forwarded the email from Scott Darnley to himself.
He padded to the kitchen and loaded a plate with chunks of strong cheddar cheese, pork pie, crisps, cake and biscuits. Back in his bedroom, he sat on his bed and ate greedily, spraying crumbs, while he finished watching Toy Story. He’d played it several times a week since his mum had vanished, because it was the film she should have sat and watched with him that night. They’d seen it together a dozen times, snuggled up on the sofa with the soft throw tucked round them. She’d always dug him in the ribs and giggled whenever Buzz Lightyear misunderstood a situation. He cried every time he played it.
His life was full of shoulds. He should have gone to the shop with Mum that evening and kept her safe. He should have realised sooner that she’d been gone too long and maybe then he could have saved her. He should have phoned his dad instead of running to Jeff’s. His dad had asked in a hurt voice, Why didn’t you call me instead of involving that pest next d
oor?
Adam carried all these shoulds around with him like stones in his pockets. Every day he needed to cry and be miserable. He had no right to be happy because his mum had gone and been murdered while he’d been watching TV. That was why he isolated himself in his room every night, repeatedly watching Toy Story, Bambi, Ghost and Lion, and any other film he could find that featured loss and grief, preferably loss of a parent. He sought out despair because it was all he deserved and, in an odd way, he found comfort in it. Bambi was the film that always made him sob the most. Every time the hunter killed Bambi’s mother, he held his pillow against his face.
Now they were saying that his mum might have been shagging someone, maybe even the person who’d killed her. He didn’t believe it. His mum would never have been messing with some other bloke. She wasn’t like that. He was filled with a useless, draining fury.
Toy Story ended. Adam lay on his stomach and peered under his bed. His curse jars stood in a line of pent-up hostility. He hoped they were working their dark magick. The one thing that injected energy into his life was his enduring loathing of Monty. That fuelled his days. If he hadn’t interfered in their lives and taken Dad away from them, Mum might still be here. Tonight was the first time he’d let rip with the loathing and it had been good. Almost as good as making the curse jars. A bit like hope.
Adam had heard everything tonight from the sentry step. He’d heard Monty tell Dad that he’d attacked Scott because he was threatening to talk about what had happened at the Flare Bar, and Dad saying that he must be mad, what had he been thinking? Then Dad had said, Have you been having an affair? Monty had told him not to be dramatic, and then they’d both started shouting and it was just like the bad old days, with Mum and Lily rowing. He’d heard the DI say, Pity that Lyn didn’t have anyone protecting her so keenly that night. She’d called it, all right.
Adam could have told DI Drummond that he’d heard Monty say he’d beaten Scott up, but he was going to hang onto that information for now. It might come in useful.
He lay back against his pillows. The awareness of the jars secreted beneath him, and the sense that their power was growing and expanding in the silence and the dark, brought him immense pleasure. He opened his laptop and was pleased to find Chimera online. He’d already told her about his mum’s body being found.
Chimera: How is your world of sorcery over there in England, Adam dearest?
Tears sprang hot in his eyes when he read the endearment and his anger spilled out.
Adam: It’s all a bit crap. Dad got arrested. The police are saying my mum might have had an affair, but that’s a lie. Monty was in a fight today with a doctor he and my dad are friendly with. The detective was here again. Monty lied to the police about his alibi for the night Mum went missing. The detective threatened to arrest him if his new alibi is false. Also, he’s seeing someone else. I’m worried he’ll break my dad’s heart.
Chimera: Now, Adam, I can hear that you’re in a lot of turmoil. Try to calm yourself. You do see what’s happening here? Forces are slowly surrounding Monty and caging him. This is how your curse works, steadily but surely. His suffering increases daily. You’re winning but you must keep your courage.
Adam: He’s been saying horrible things to Dad about me again.
Chimera: Sticks and stones, Adam dearest. Trust this: you will prevail.
Adam: I created a new curse jar.
Chimera: That’s good. You’re adding to the power. You should now cast a protection spell for yourself, to counter Monty’s evil and the awful lies about your mom. These are very difficult times for you and I want you to keep yourself safe. I’m very conscious that your mom would want that too.
She told him how to cast the strong protective spell. It was simple enough. He had to write his name and put the paper in a box with four pieces of black glass and a sprig of pine needles, then padlock the box and store it somewhere safe.
Adam: I’ll do it tomorrow.
Chimera: Make sure you do. I made my own for you some time ago, to keep you safe but now you must have one near you. I’ve got your back on this, dearest one. Merry Meet Again.
He closed his laptop. He heard Monty’s heavy tread to the bathroom and the sound of him peeing long and heavily. He sounded like a horse in a field. Adam stared into the dark, recalling how Mum had torn into Monty, calling him ‘a despicable pervert.’ He shivered with excitement. Dad had said that he definitely wanted Mum to be buried. He wondered if he might be able to place a curse jar in her grave or even better, with her in her coffin. He pictured tucking it in beside her, prompting her to help him from the world beyond. He’d chat to Chimera about it tomorrow night.
Adam was tired but too worked up to sleep. He nibbled the remaining crust of his pie and pressed ‘Play’ for Bambi. His chest tightened and his breath quickened as the blue, misty forest appeared and drowsy birds started to wake.
* * *
Chimera did live in Idaho, in Twin Falls, but her name was Adele Leigh and she was fifteen, highly intelligent, of a curious, spiteful disposition and bored at school. She found dispensing the spells and charms that she herself had googled immensely entertaining. The English boy was one of her more fascinating ‘clients’ and she was riveted by his painful story about the gay dad, the missing, now murdered mom, the nasty boyfriend and the weird sister. She’d got a real kick when he’d told her that his mother’s body had been found. What an intriguing, terrible family triangle he had! She found it crazy and diverting. It was like tuning in for the next episode of some reality trash on Netflix. And Adam was so gullible and gratifying to tease! Sometimes she desperately wanted to type, You do realise that ‘chimera’ means ‘fantasy,’ you dumb kid? and one day she would. But not just yet, while there was still so much fun to be had.
As she finished typing Merry Meet Again, she was unaware that her father had entered her bedroom and was standing behind her, observing the screen. He’d been worried for some time about her internet use. Now he snatched up her laptop and scanned the forum comments with growing horror.
He confiscated the laptop indefinitely, closed her account and grounded her for a month.
Chimera’s magick was no more.
* * *
Siv was cloudy-headed and twitchy when she arrived at the station the next morning. She’d woken from a vivid dream that her wagon was slipping down the meadow and teetering on the edge of the river. She was inside, unable to open the door. Mutsi stood on the riverbank in a silver evening dress and stilettos, watching and shouting that this wouldn’t be happening if her daughter had been more grateful.
As she reached her office, she heard that a Ms Sitwell was in reception, asking to see her. She briefed Ali and told him to find Justin Desmond and check out Barnwell’s story. Then she opened a window, stuck her head out and took deep breaths to try to reset her agitated brain.
Izzie Sitwell wore a smart black skirt and jacket. She had a tight, thin face and an expression that seemed to tremble on the edge of tears. ‘I got your message and . . . Well, after last night, I wanted to see you as soon as possible. I’ve told work I’ll be in late.’
‘After last night?’
‘Tasha rang me. She told me about Lily and Pearce. Lily’s told Pearce she never wants to see him again and she’s gone to stay with her grandfather. She’s in bits.’
‘I see. Have you spoken to Lily?’
‘No. She sent us all a message, saying she needs time alone. I can’t believe that Pearce did that — had a thing with Lyn. I can’t believe it of her.’
The young woman was distraught. Lily hadn’t reacted like that when she’d heard about her mother. ‘Were you and Lyn close?’
‘Yes, really close. She was such a nice woman and very kind to me, always. I’d never have expected her to behave like that. Lily’s said she doesn’t want any of us to talk to her about it. Usually, we all meet up on Friday night for a drink and a chat but she’s cancelled this week.’
The Damsels might be about to
fragment. ‘So, have you got something to tell me?’
Izzie fiddled with her watch strap and peered at her with tiny, liquid eyes. She had a soft voice. Timid, almost. ‘It’s about Pearce. About the night Lyn vanished.’
‘Okay. That was the night of your prom.’
‘That’s right. I’m not sure, but I might have seen something that . . .’ Her voice trailed.
‘Take your time. You were at Lily’s house, getting ready that afternoon.’
‘That’s right. Then we . . . the Damsels all arrived at the prom together in a limo. We went straight into the school hall, except for Lily. She said Pearce would be arriving any minute, so she’d wait outside for him.’
‘What time was that?’
‘About twenty to eight. Anyway, the rest of us went in. Loads of people were arriving and the hall got packed. It was chaotic in there and I was talking to friends. After a while, I needed a pee and I’d started to get a bit queasy. We’d been drinking during the afternoon and I wasn’t used to it. I went to the loo. It was along a corridor near the entrance. When I was heading back, I thought I saw Pearce just coming in through the outside door.’
‘How long were you in the loo?’
‘About ten minutes, maybe a bit more. I wanted to be sick, but I got better after I drank some water.’
‘What time was it that you saw Pearce arriving?’
She frowned. ‘I can’t be sure it was Pearce. It was just the back of his head and I was still a bit funny and wobbly, you see.’
‘Okay, but the time?’
‘There’s a clock just above the hall door, and I remember noticing it and thinking that Lily wouldn’t be best pleased because it said just after half eight.’
‘When you went into the hall, did you see Lily and Pearce?’
‘Gosh, no, not right away . . . It was so crowded and the music was loud. I just started dancing and drinking. I hoped that if I had some more booze, I’d forget the nausea. Big mistake! I was horribly sick when I got home and I had the hangover from hell the next day. I saw Lily and Pearce a bit later that evening. They were up near the stage, sort of wrapped around each other and kissing.’
NEVER CAME HOME an addictive crime thriller with a twist you won't see coming (Detective Inspector Siv Drummond Book 2) Page 22