The Black Sheep

by Sophie McKenzie

  ‘She’s upstairs, in Lucy’s bedroom. At least that’s where Lucy thinks she is. Lucy’s here too.’

  ‘I know about Lucy. When I got free just now I wanted to call the police, but Dex had taken my mobile and I could hear him and your sister in the hall. She sounded distraught.’ Harry can still feel his heart thudding at the sound of their voices. It had been too big a risk to try and get past them so instead he had headed into the garden where he was sure he’d find Fran at least.

  ‘It was Lucy who put the watch in that storage locker,’ Fran gabbles. ‘She found it in Perry’s safe last week. He’s the one behind PAAUL, not Dad.’

  ‘Your Uncle Perry?’ Harry frowns. ‘Whose house we went to? Lanagh?’

  ‘Yes, there was a safe in the study I didn’t know about. Lucy found the watch and the names of all the murder victims in there. All the doctors who’ve been killed. And you. Though she didn’t know until Saturday it was your name.’

  ‘Jesus, why didn’t she say something?’ Harry asks grimly.

  ‘She said she did warn you. When you spoke to her that afternoon.’

  Harry snorts, still sawing through Fran’s ropes. ‘She told me to “be careful”. But what I mean is: why didn’t she tell your dad? Or the police?’

  ‘You can’t blame her,’ Fran insists. ‘She’s always been . . . not weak exactly but really fragile. And our family is her whole life.’ I stop, wondering why I’m defending Lucy so strongly. She’s no longer a child, and no matter how devastated she was to find out that Perry was responsible for multiple murders, she should still have spoken up. ‘Anyway,’ I go on. ‘Now she’s found out Dex is involved and he’s totally terrorised her – there’s history between them, she’s too scared to stand up to him. I’m terrified he’ll kill her when he’s done with us.’ She gazes at him, her eyes huge with sorrow. ‘We have to rescue them both. Lucy as well as Ruby.’

  Harry’s heart plummets. Finding Fran has been risky enough. But he can hardly leave her to rescue her daughter and sister alone. He tugs at the rope. It’s looser but still holding fast.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ he says, redoubling his efforts. ‘I want you to go over the fence to the neighbours, you can break in if you have to. Raise the alarm. The police will—’

  ‘Won’t work,’ Fran says, her voice rising with anxiety. ‘The fence on both sides is too high.’

  ‘Okay then, we’ll yell for help.’ Harry slices through the final bit of rope. Fran’s hands are free. ‘There.’

  She hugs him tightly. He smells of oil and dust and fresh sweat. It’s a strange mix; oddly reassuring.

  ‘Thank you,’ she breathes, rubbing her wrists, as he moves on to the binding around her ankles. ‘But we can’t yell for help. If Dex hears us he’ll kill Ruby. Harry, he’s killed everyone. For Perry. He’s the head of PAAUL, you were right about the whole thing, except it’s him and not my dad.’

  ‘Right.’ Harry grunts his frustration as he carves through the thickest part of the rope. ‘Damn it. Do you know where Dex put our mobiles?’

  ‘No,’ she says.

  ‘Done.’ The rope comes away in his hands.

  ‘There’s a house phone in the hall.’ Fran struggles to her feet. ‘We can call the police on the way up to Ruby.’ She flexes her ankles. ‘Come on.’

  Outside the wind is sharp and cold. Fran stumbles as they hurry through the copse of trees, her feet still numb. Harry can only imagine how she feels: betrayed by her uncle, attacked by her cousin, desperate to get to her daughter. Her breath comes in pitiful jags. He takes her hand as they reach the edge of the trees.

  The lights are off in the kitchen, across the whole back of the house. Which means anyone looking out will see them crossing the lawn in the moonlight.

  ‘Fast as possible,’ he whispers.

  Still holding hands they race over the grass and the patio and into the kitchen. Harry puts his finger to his lips as they stand inside, listening for sounds. The house is silent. Spooky.

  ‘D’you think Dex has gone?’ Fran whispers.

  They creep across the tiled kitchen floor and into the hall. An old-fashioned house phone stands on the table next to the living room door. Sweat gathers at the nape of Harry’s neck as he gently lifts the receiver off its base.

  ‘Thanks, but I’m very tired. Shall we pray now?’ Someone is speaking on an extension. It’s Lucy. She sounds upset. Harry opens his mouth to speak, then remembers what Fran said. Lucy may scream if she knows they are free.

  He glances at Fran and shakes his head. She points up the stairs, eager to get to Ruby. Harry hesitates. If he puts the phone back down Lucy and whoever she is speaking to will surely hear the click. Instead he lays the receiver quietly on the hall table.

  They tiptoe to the stairs. As Fran hurries up to Ruby, Harry glances at the front door just a few feet away. He could leave. Right now. Run for help. He looks up to the first floor. Lucy is clearly still in the house, either up there or on the second floor above. Dex is most probably up there too. Fran is heading straight into danger. Even if he runs up now and tries to drag Fran away, he knows it won’t work.

  Fran will never leave Ruby.

  And he can’t leave Fran.

  He hurries after her up the stairs and across the first-floor landing, catching up with her as she reaches Lucy’s bedroom.

  Fran glances at him, her elegant features riven with fear.

  ‘Ready?’ she mouths.

  Harry nods, holding his breath as Fran turns the handle and pushes open the door. Moonlight streaks across the coverlet pulled smooth and neat. The rosary dangling from Christ’s foot gleams.

  But underneath the bed is empty.

  FRAN

  Ruby isn’t here.

  I look around the room, desperate, is she hiding somewhere? Is there anywhere she could have been shut away? No. Lucy’s closet and cupboards aren’t big enough.

  After the adrenaline rush of our escape, of finding out Harry is alive, the misery and terror of not finding Ruby crushes me. Harry’s strong hand touches my shoulder. I sink back against him, all hope sucked out of my lungs along with my breath. ‘Oh.’ The noise I make is a strangled moan.

  Harry grips my elbow. His voice is fierce in my ear. ‘We’ll find her.’

  ‘Francesca! Harry!’ Lucy’s hushed whisper makes us spin around. My sister is in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. ‘What are you doing? How did you—?’

  ‘We’ve come for Ruby.’ I keep my voice low. ‘Where is she? You said she was in your room?’

  ‘Dex moved her. Oh, dear Lord.’ Lucy hurries into the room. She clasps her hands together so tightly the knuckles are white. ‘What are you doing? He’ll be so mad, he’ll—’

  ‘He’s going to kill us anyway.’ Harry’s impatient voice cuts across hers, quiet but firm. ‘Is Ruby still in the house?’

  Lucy hops from foot to foot. ‘I think so, I don’t know, I don’t know.’

  I stare at her. How can she be so useless? Ruby is her niece. My baby. I know Lucy adores her, so why won’t she act?

  ‘Come on!’ Harry pulls me round. But before we can take a step, Dex rushes into view. He stands, panting for breath, in the doorway. There’s a gun in his hand.

  I stare at the gun, my mouth open in shock.

  ‘Feeling okay, coz?’ Dex asks, a frown creasing his forehead. He sounds totally sincere.

  ‘You bastard!’ I snarl. ‘Where’s Ruby?’

  ‘What did you use to get free?’ Dex demands.

  Beside me Harry ducks down, pulls the knife out of his boot and rushes at Dex. ‘This,’ he says.

  Dex sidesteps him neatly, backing away and pointing the gun at Harry, who shrinks back.

  ‘Drop the knife,’ he orders.

  Shocked numb, I look up from the weapon and into my cousin’s eyes. I’ve known him since we were babies. How is this happening? Is it drugs? Or a totally hidden side of his personality?

  Harry growls with fury. He is still holding the knife.
>
  ‘Who are you, Dex?’ The words sputter out of me like the dying flicker of a light. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more lost in my life.

  ‘He’s psychotic,’ Harry says.

  Dex gives a small, impatient shake of the head. He glances at Harry. ‘Last chance to drop the knife.’ He turns the gun to point at me.

  Harry lets the little kitchen knife fall to the carpet.

  Lucy darts forward and picks it up.

  ‘Here.’ Dex holds out his hand.

  For a second Lucy hesitates. I will her to stand up to him but instead she scurries over and puts the knife in his palm. She retreats across the bedroom. A black wave of despair washes over me.

  ‘Where’s Ruby?’ I ask again. ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘She’s here, she’s fine.’

  Thank God. I take a step towards the door. Dex bars my way, the gun still in his hand. I jolt to a stop.

  ‘Let me see her.’

  ‘Soon. She’s still unconscious.’ Dex looks me in the eye. ‘I’m not going to hurt her, Franny. I was never going to do that. I didn’t kill Harry either. I couldn’t do that to you.’

  ‘How can I believe anything you say?’ My throat swells with emotion. ‘I know what you’ve done, all the people you’ve killed.’ My voice breaks, my body shudders. ‘You murdered Caspian, Dex, who I loved so . . . you took away my children’s father . . .’ I’m too choked to speak.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Dex says. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘What about Lucy?’ I snap. ‘You raped her. She was barely fifteen and—’

  ‘It wasn’t rape.’ Dex glares at Lucy, who shrinks against the wall.

  Panic engulfs me. If he thinks he can justify sex with his fifteen-year-old cousin, God knows what he’s capable of.

  ‘Please, let me have Ruby, plea—’

  ‘I told you, you’ll see her soon. Now shut up for God’s sake.’ As Dex speaks, Harry shifts so that more of his body is in front of mine. It’s a small gesture but a deeply protective one.

  And it gives me strength. ‘So what’s the plan, Dex?’ I ask, more steel in my voice than before. ‘I’m guessing you’re not going to let that gun off in the house.’

  ‘Yeah, apart from anything else, Jayson and Jacqueline won’t be happy if you make a mess on their landing,’ Harry snaps.

  ‘I told you to shut up,’ Dex barks, sweeping his gun to take in the three of us. ‘We’re only here because this third-rate reporter wanted a crappy story on Jayson Carr. And because you . . .’ He glares at me. ‘Because you recognised that stupid curtain in Dad’s flat. This is your fault, all of you.’

  I glance at Lucy, remembering what she said about Dex being a psychopath. Here he is blaming others, refusing to take responsibility for his actions. Just as he did with his marriage. How did I never notice before? Lucy’s head is bowed; her shoulders shake with fear. If Dex is a classic psychopath then Lucy is a stereotypical victim: trusting, insecure, sensitive. I should have seen that before too.

  ‘Our fault?’ Harry snorts. ‘We’re not the ones killing off abortion doctors and kidnapping children.’

  ‘Enough.’ Dex turns to Lucy. ‘Where’s my phone?’

  Lucy’s mouth opens and shuts wordlessly. Then she scurries off, presumably to fetch Dex’s mobile. How can she be so submissive?

  ‘What are you going to do with us, Dex?’ I ask.

  ‘There’s no way out of this,’ Harry adds. ‘You should put the gun down and turn yourself in.’

  ‘Thanks for the advice.’ Dex strides out of the room, slams the door on us and turns the key. A moment later his footsteps sound, stomping down the stairs.

  Harry hurls himself at the door. I join him. But the door holds fast.

  ‘Lucy?’ My heart thuds. ‘Lucy, are you there?’

  ‘We have to get her to let us out.’ Harry paces up and down.

  ‘Lucy?’ I call more loudly.

  ‘I’m here.’ She sounds out of breath, as if she’s been running. ‘I don’t have long, he’s on the phone.’

  ‘Let us out!’ I insist.

  ‘I can’t, he has the key.’ There’s a sound of paper rustling on the other side of the door.

  ‘Lucy, did you see Ruby, is she all right?’ I ask.

  ‘Go and dial 999,’ Harry orders. ‘Tell them all our lives are in danger.’

  ‘Listen, Francesca, I wasn’t lying about Dex and what happened when I was fifteen.’

  Harry and I exchange a frustrated glance.

  ‘That doesn’t matter now, Lucy,’ I say sharply. ‘Nothing matters right now except saving Ruby and calling the police. Nothing matters right now except doing the right thing.’

  There’s silence on the other side of the door. Shit. Ruby is here somewhere, terrified and alone. I need to get to her. Now. But it was stupid to snap at Lucy. She needs to be heard. Perhaps if I can make her feel supported, she’ll be able to stand up to Dex.

  ‘Luce?’

  She gives a loud sniff. ‘I know you think I’m pathetic, but it’s so hard to talk about it all. I’ve been carrying everything for . . . for so long.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re pathetic, Lucy, I promise I don’t. And I do believe you . . . about what Dex did. It’s just we really need to get out of here.’

  ‘I need to explain,’ she whimpers.

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Harry mutters under his breath.

  ‘Explain what?’ I force myself to sound patient.

  The sound of paper rustling again, a couple of pages clearly torn from a pad or notebook appear under the door.

  Harry grabs them; holds them up.

  ‘What’s this?’ I ask.

  ‘Mum’s diary,’ Lucy says with another sniff. ‘It wasn’t just me. Dex used her too. You have to believe me.’

  I take the pages. They are written in Mum’s distinctive handwriting: forward slanting and rounded with dots over the ‘i’s and ‘j’s.

  ‘We don’t have time to read an effing journal, Jesus,’ Harry hisses.

  I bite my lip, calculating how long I need to pretend to read in order to win Lucy over.

  ‘Okay, Lucy, I’ll read this,’ I say. ‘But you need to dial 999. Tell them about Ruby and that . . . that Dex has threatened to kill us, that you’re scared, that we’re locked in. Will you do that, please?’

  ‘I’ll try.’ Lucy’s voice sounds small and terrified. I hear her padding away.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, this is ridiculous.’ Harry heads to the window and tries the latch. It’s locked. ‘Maybe I can smash through.’ He looks around for something to use.

  ‘Okay.’ I don’t hold out much hope. Like all the windows in the house this one is not only double-glazed but toughened and tempered to resist break-ins.

  I force myself to focus on the pages torn from Mum’s notebook. I’m not at all sure Lucy will really call the police. Maybe if I demonstrate I’ve kept my word and read some of this diary she’ll gain confidence. I try to focus on the line at the top of the page. The date given is a week or two before Mum died, around the time of that party where she told Ayesha she was frightened. How does what Mum is writing here connect with Dex? The word ‘miracle’ catches my eye. I brace myself for a religious outpouring and read on . . .

  A miracle. I’d been dreading the whole event so much and then I saw him. My Apollo. He was across the room. All tall and muscular, his sleeves rolled up. I spilt a splash of champagne on my blouse, which was sheer, and I caught him staring. Weird, seeing him look at me in that way. Weirder to feel the tug of desire thrilling through me in response. He came over and I could feel how much he wanted me. It was in his eyes. Such hunger. ‘How is this possible?’ That was what he said. Not then, of course. Then he just told me how he was planning to visit Tate Modern the next day, what a shame it was to see beautiful things and have no one to share them with. I volunteered to go immediately. I didn’t hesitate. And when he touched my arm we both felt the electricity. Honestly I couldn’t have stopped if
I’d wanted to. And I didn’t want to stop. I knew then. We met. We looked at art. We laughed. We told each other how much was missing in our lives. Then he took me away from the crowds and leaned me against a wall and kissed my face and touched my breasts under my dress and told me he’d been wanting to do that since the party. I thought my body would dissolve with pleasure. I shook all over and he took me to a hotel and – oh, I have never felt anything like I did when he touched me. And now I’m at his mercy, terrified of his power over me. He acts like God, omnipotent. Oh, Dex, my Dex, bringer of wave upon wave of delirious . . .

  I can’t read any more. Feeling sick, I put the paper down.

  So this is what Lucy wanted me to know . . . that Dex not only abused her, but seduced our mother.

  He acts like God.

  Those were the very words Ayesha reported Mum had said in that moment of drunken indiscretion at the party. My heart thuds. Mum claimed she was talking about Uncle Graham, but I’m guessing she really meant Dex. Having given her feelings away in an unguarded moment, she must have pretended she’d meant Graham in order to stop persistent Ayesha asking questions.

  I put my ear to the door. Where the hell is Lucy? More than ever, I just want to get to Ruby, to save her, to hold her and never let go.

  Across the room Harry slams the base of Lucy’s bedside lamp against the window. The glass holds firm. As I guessed it would.

  ‘Francesca?’ At last Lucy’s back, on the other side of the door.

  ‘Did you make the call?’ I lean in close.

  ‘Yes.’ Lucy’s voice is a faint, trembling whisper. ‘Police and an ambulance for Ruby.’

  Oh, thank goodness. ‘Well done, Lucy.’ I let out a shaky sigh of relief. Across the room Harry raises his eyebrows. I give him a nod.

  ‘I’m so scared though,’ Lucy goes on. ‘When Dex finds out . . .’

  ‘You need to hide from him,’ I say. ‘Then the police can deal with him before he can get to you.’

  ‘We won’t let him hurt you, Lucy,’ Harry adds, walking over to me. ‘Promise.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Lucy whimpers. ‘Did you read the diary?’

  ‘Most of it,’ I say. ‘It’s a shock. But . . . Lucy, you should go and hide. We can talk about this lat—’