Mummy's Little Secret

by M. A. Hunter

  Opening his laptop, he connected to the local network and logged into MOSES to check for any further updates from the Scientific Services team. No email notification that Morag’s prints were a match for the unidentified set on the blade. Jess’s mum said Jess had fled from their home late afternoon, and had maybe headed to Morag’s to seek solace, but Charlie had come after her, and a fight ensued.

  Mike stepped back from the board. It was a perfectly plausible theory, but it didn’t feel right in his gut. No criminal history existed for either Jess or Charlie Donoghue, and as he now searched for the name Morag Kilbride, he again drew a blank. Three people with no previous trouble with the police had suddenly been thrust into the spotlight in the cruellest way.

  He had had little choice but to release Morag Kilbride last night, but he was confident he would have her back in an interview room before the end of the day. He wrote her name on the board and scribbled notes beneath it. She’d said she was out all afternoon, but that alibi should be easy enough to prove or disprove. He would arrange for one of the team to contact the pubs in Chalfont St Peter and see if any staff could recall seeing two older parents and a four-year-old daughter. He would also ask Nazia to check her mountain of security footage to see whether there was any sign of Morag leaving and returning to the property.

  He was about to log off when a fresh thought struck, and he typed in the name Angus Kilbride, excitement growing as one result was found. Opening the case history, he realised it wasn’t actually directly to do with anyone called Angus Kilbride. Instead, he found himself reading about a restraining order taken out by a woman from Edinburgh against a male referred to as Tommy Chamberlain. Within the case history, the woman had provided Angus Kilbride’s name as her place of residence while the restraining order was being sought. The casefile had been closed several weeks after it was opened, with the woman dropping her complaint.

  Mike closed the laptop, and left the Incident Room, making sure the door was locked before heading to his regular desk to prepare for the morning briefing.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Before – Jess

  Morag has her back to me, and I don’t want to interrupt, but I can see she is visibly shaken by the call. There is no sign of Daisy or Angus.

  Whoever she is talking to, whoever is upsetting her, is none of my business. I roll backwards and out of sight, telling myself just to find a cool drink, pay, and leave the shop. Morag doesn’t know I am here, and if she does spot me, she may make some awful suggestion like travelling back on the train with us. She has already wormed herself far enough into my family; I can’t inflict her on my mum too. If I just sit tight for a few minutes and wait for her to leave, I can continue on my journey towards the toyshop.

  ‘I swear to God, I will never let you anywhere near her,’ I hear Morag shout, and it is this that catches my attention.

  She’s not my mum.

  Could the ‘her’ be Daisy? If so, who is on the other end of the phone? My mind whirrs with theories, none of which quite feel right. I remain still, straining to hear anything more, but Morag’s voice is now little more than a murmur.

  ‘Over my dead body,’ Morag yells. ‘I swear on her life, if I see you anywhere near us, I will… I will put a knife in you myself!’

  I swallow hard. My body is awash with equal parts fear and sympathy for this woman who may or may not be the most dangerous person I’ve ever met.

  I hear Morag sigh loudly, and against my better judgement take this as my cue to wheel back around the stanchion and offer her my support. Her shoulders are gently rocking, and although I can’t hear her sob, it is clear she is crying.

  ‘Morag?’ I say gently, trying to include a tone of surprise, like I wasn’t expecting to run into her here.

  She spins around, and I can see her eyeliner has left tear-stained streaks down her cheeks. She quickly blows her nose, and forces a smile, trying to cover her crying.

  ‘Goodness, Jess, what a small world.’ She sniffs. ‘How are you?’

  I wish I could read her mind, to understand what secrets she is keeping and why. I desperately want to know who was on the phone and whether it had anything to do with Daisy’s four little words, but I don’t want her to know that I heard her side of the conversation.

  ‘Last minute PE kit buying,’ I say, pointing to the shopping bags hanging from the handles of my chair. ‘Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.’

  She is studying my face; I suppose trying to determine whether I overheard any of her call. She raises the phone into the air so I can see it. ‘Had some bad news about an old friend, that’s all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Must be all this humidity and the anxiety about Daisy starting school tomorrow.’

  She’s lying to me, but I just nod in acknowledgement. I could tell her I heard the threats she made to the other person, but I don’t see what it will achieve at this stage. They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and for now it suits me better to keep Morag closer, until I know the real reason Daisy approached me in the park.

  If I’m honest, it is taking all my willpower not to demand she tell me the truth about the phone call, and I’m hoping my patience holds out.

  The phone starts ringing in her hand again, and as she looks at the display, and then back at me, I see fresh tears forming in her eyes. She declines the call, and suddenly glances around like she’s half-expecting someone to jump out on us.

  ‘I have to go,’ she says, turning and racing towards the front of the shop.

  ‘Wait,’ I call out, hurrying after her, as quickly as my arms can pump. The sunshine is so bright as I bounce out onto the pavement. Morag has turned right, and is heading back down the road towards Debenhams, and I decide to go after her, until I hear a gruff voice calling out over my shoulder.

  ‘Hey, stop!’

  I nearly tumble out of the chair as it suddenly stops, and as I turn to confront whoever has grabbed the handles, I see the overweight security guard panting. A sheen of sweat shimmers beneath the peak of his cap.

  ‘What the…?’ I begin, as he starts pulling me backwards along the pavement towards the shop.

  He points at my lap, and it is only now I spot the ornamental glass carriage twinkling under the intense sunlight.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Before – Morag

  I run until my lungs burn and my legs feel like they won’t support my weight. I finally relent and, almost crashing to the hard concrete ground, I try to get my bearings. I am not as fit as I once was, and my feet now feel as though they are on actual fire. I’m just grateful I was wearing trainers when I snuck out of the house this morning.

  I appear to have stopped near some kind of park. A playground, basketball court, and skate ramp are visible in the distance, surrounded by a sea of yellowing grass, succumbing to the continued heatwave. There are so many boys and girls rushing about that they’re just a blur of colours and sounds. It’s the sort of place you could slip into and just disappear.

  The whole day I’ve been searching for tails and people who look out of place, and who should I run into in some random local shop, but Jess? She just happened to be there buying PE kit, she claimed. Really? The day before the school term starts? I’m sorry, but I find that a little hard to swallow. Her being there has to be a message from him. He’s showing me he knows where I am, and that if we don’t do as he says, he’ll be able to do whatever he likes with us. It’s too coincidental that Jess approached the moment I broke off the call with him.

  I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for her sob story; did I learn nothing from Wolverhampton? At least I wasn’t the only one who bought Jess and Charlie’s lies.

  I freeze as a fresh wave of panic hits; Jess knows where we live, and if she knows then so does he. Unlocking the mobile, I hold it near my face as I try and formulate a plan. He knows this number – somehow – but that means he can track it. So he can probably track any other number I dial, but what choic
e do I have? I need to warn Angus that he and Daisy are in danger.

  Searching for Angus’s name, I press dial, and listen intently, and wail in frustration when his answerphone kicks in.

  Why isn’t he answering his phone?

  What if he has already gone to the house? What if his phone call to me was just to keep me out of the way?

  I need to keep control of my emotions. I need to think clearly.

  The taxi home is an expense I can’t really afford, but I just need to know where Angus and Daisy are, and to check that they are safe. I pay the driver the last note in my purse, and don’t wait for change, bundling myself out of the taxi, up the driveway, and in through the front door.

  ‘Angus?’ I call out, straining to hear any sound which might indicate where they are. ‘Daisy? Where are you two?’

  Only silence greets me.

  Checking every room downstairs, upstairs, and the garden, I’m about to play my final card – calling the police – when I hear a set of keys, and their voices as they come through the front door.

  Rushing over, I throw my arms around them both, the tears warm as they splash on my cheeks. ‘Where were you two?’

  ‘I went to buy lunch,’ Angus says, waving the long baguette he’s clutching near my face. ‘What’s gotten into you? Whatever is the matter?’

  I can’t answer, not at first. I just want to hold the two most precious gifts in my life and will away the bad that is to come.

  With Daisy settled up in her room with a sandwich, where she won’t hear us speak, I finally come clean to Angus, and tell him about my two calls to Gwen, and subsequent conversations with Tommy.

  Angus doesn’t say anything at first, ruminating on what I have told him. He isn’t angry, maybe disappointed though. ‘He phoned you on this number?’ he questions.

  I nod.

  Without a breath, Angus switches off the phone, and removes the SIM card. ‘What exactly did he say?’

  ‘He wants Daisy back. He said he knows we won’t go to the police because of what we did. He is on his way here, Angus, I know it. We need to pack up and go.’

  ‘No.’ He is so calm, but there is a hardness to his stare. ‘We can’t start over again, Morag. I’m tired of running, and it’s not fair on Daisy. She’s due to start school tomorrow, and if she doesn’t show up, people will start asking awkward questions. We don’t know that he knows we’re here.’

  I can’t believe he’s being so calm about all this. ‘Do you not remember what he did to our cottage in Aberdeen? It’s cinders and dust now. And God knows what he would have done in Wolverhampton had we not got away when we did.’

  ‘We don’t know for certain that he found us last time, Morag. We moved because you said you thought he was getting closer, but we never saw him. We both know how manipulative he is. His visiting Gwen and phoning you could just be mind games designed to drive us into an early grave. If we pack up and move again, he wins.’

  ‘This isn’t about winning and losing, Angus. This is about preservation of life: yours, mine, and Daisy’s.’

  He takes my hands in his. ‘I will not allow anything bad to happen to you, my love. Don’t worry, I have a plan.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Now

  ‘You eaten breakfast yet?’ Polly asked from the doorway, holding up a brown paper bag. ‘Peace offering?’

  He smiled at her. ‘It should be me apologising. I was wrong to assume that because of what happened between us before, you would—’

  She cut him off with a raised hand. ‘I’m happy to forget it if you are. Did you get much sleep in the end?’

  ‘Not as much as I probably needed. You?’

  ‘Sammy wouldn’t settle after you’d been there, so I ended up allowing him into my room, as I didn’t want his scratching and howling to wake the kids next door.’

  Mike winced. ‘I’m sorry. I just wanted to watch him sleeping, but he must have picked up on my scent. Maybe I could have him at my place for a couple of nights so you can get some shut-eye.’

  She raised her eyebrow sceptically. ‘He needs to be somewhere he’ll get regular walks and feeding, which my brother helps out with. Besides, your place isn’t big enough to swing a cat, let alone entertain a four-year-old German Shepherd.’

  He knew she was right, and decided not to push the point.

  ‘Care to update me on the plan for today?’ Polly asked, pragmatic as ever.

  Mike followed her out of the room, gratefully accepting the paper bag, and chuckling as he opened it to see the maple and pecan Danish pastry. ‘We’ll do a full brief when the rest of the team arrives, but in the meantime, I want you to get hold of Jess Donoghue’s mum and find out whether there’s any word from husband Charlie. See if you can get a trace on his phone too. There was no phone or wallet found on the victim, which is unusual in itself, but if Charlie Donoghue’s phone is on, I want to know where it is.’

  ‘So you still think we could be looking at a domestic disturbance gone wrong? You think Jess offed her husband?’

  Mike narrowed his eyes. ‘Call it a working theory for now. I also want someone to check out Morag Kilbride’s alibi as soon as possible, and when it turns out to be a crock of shit, I want her brought back in to answer why.’

  Polly raised both eyebrows as she made a note of his instructions. ‘My, my, someone’s rediscovered their chutzpah!’

  Mike was about to retort when a woman in uniform approached his desk. ‘DI Ferry? I’m PC Carla Anderson. I was sent up to help view some security camera footage?’

  Mike dropped the pastry back into the bag and showed her to a free desk next to where Nazia had been sitting last night. ‘Good, good, make yourself comfortable. Polly can show you where you can get tea and coffee. Team brief is at eight, and then I’ll introduce you to DS Nazia Hussain, who will coordinate what she needs from you.’ He led Carla to the Incident Room door and punched in the code. ‘We’ve narrowed time of death to between five and six yesterday evening, and these are the two faces you need to look for: the woman on the left is one of our suspects, and this unidentified man the victim.’

  ‘Wait, wait, I know her,’ Carla responded urgently. ‘Her name’s Jess, right?’

  Mike’s eyes widened. ‘If she’s a friend of yours then—’

  ‘No, I don’t know her like that,’ Carla interrupted. ‘What I mean is, I interviewed her here the other day. Tuesday, I think.’

  This was new information. ‘We checked for her on the system and there was no record of an arrest.’

  ‘She was brought in on suspicion of shoplifting, but de-arrested when her sister-in-law came forward and offered extenuating circumstances.’

  ‘Her sister-in-law?’

  ‘Rosie something or other,’ Carla replied. ‘She’s on secondment with the Misper team out of Uxbridge, I think she said. Jess claimed she had been unaware she had the item in her lap when she left the shop in pursuit of a friend. I got the impression the store security guard was a bit of a jobsworth, or on commission for catching thieves, as a look at the shop’s CCTV backed up her story, but he insisted she be brought in. I think the shop owner relented and chose not to press charges, so she was released.’

  ‘Was she interviewed under caution?’

  Carla nodded. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Do me a favour and dig out the recording so I can watch it,’ Mike instructed.

  Carla left the room in a hurry, leaving Mike and Polly staring at the image of Jess Donoghue on the wall, wondering what other secrets she was hiding.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Before – Jess

  It’s a nightmare I cannot wake from. Staring at the grimly painted, cold walls of the holding cell, it feels like I am watching somebody else’s life playing out before me. I tried to explain to the overweight guard that I never had any intention of stealing the glass Cinderella carriage; that it was a huge mistake, and I’m not that sort of person.

  ‘That’s what they all say,’ he told me, w
ith a disbelieving and scornful look.

  How many paraplegic shoplifters are there out there? Not as many as he seemed to be suggesting, I bet.

  Every time I tried to speak, he would keep pointing at that ‘Thieves will be prosecuted’ sign on the wall. And it didn’t seem to matter how many times I tried to explain that I’m not a thief, he simply ignored my attempts. I couldn’t actually believe it when two uniformed officers turned up, and escorted me to the waiting van, before securing me inside.

  So humiliating!

  There was a crowd of onlookers at this point, and I can only hope that nobody I know witnessed the debacle. I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone, keeping my tear-filled eyes buried behind my hands.

  I’ve never had as much as a speeding fine or parking ticket in my life. I’ve always considered myself beyond reproach as far as criminal activity is concerned, and now here I am, trapped inside a humid cell, the stale air suffocating.

  What makes it worse is the fact that Mum and Grace are still out there – probably in Harrow – wondering what’s happened to me. When I arrived at the police station, they agreed to allow me to call Mum, but her phone was switched off. I left a voicemail and I guess the older woman behind the custody desk took pity on me, as she agreed to keep trying the number. I can’t even remember if Mum had her phone with her when we headed for the shops. It could just as easily be at home, which of course she can’t get into because I have the keys. Correction: the police now have the keys.

  What a mess!

  As far as I can tell, I’ve been here for two hours, and nearly an hour of that has been spent in this same holding cell. There is a bed against one wall, but there are no windows. The only light in the room comes from a buzzing lamp overhead. There’s also some kind of video camera high up in the corner above the large reinforced door. A little red light flashes continuously as it watches my every move.