“You can probably imagine that I’ve spent a lot of time agonizing about that. In the end there’s no escaping the fact that all of us grown-ups were guilty in some way of what happened to Amy. I shouldn’t have been away, Grandma shouldn’t have left you kids with Granddad, and he should have kept a closer eye on things. Elizabeth was far too young to be in charge of any of you. We’ve had to live with that and, as you know, your grandfather just couldn’t. I also paid a price, but there is no getting away from what Martin did. Was he jealous of the attention paid to Amy when she was a newborn baby? I guess so, but not more so than happens in lots of families. Could I put hand on heart and say there was anything about him which might have given any hint that he was capable of what he did then, and what everyone thinks he has done now? Despite what the psychologist said at the inquest, I believe I’d have to answer no.”
She had only just stopped speaking when there was a knock, and Mrs. Morrison put her head around the door.
“Sorry to disturb you, but the two detectives who were at the funeral are here and are asking if they can have a word with Michael. I didn’t know if you minded being interrupted?”
Michael said he would come out to speak to them.
“Hello, Michael,” said Superintendent Bailey. “Sorry to bother you. We went back to the office after the funeral, and there’s nothing new to report. It’s just that we agreed that we would speak twice a day, and I’ve been calling your number. I think that maybe you forgot to turn your phone back on after the ceremony. I’ve left a few messages.”
Michael apologized and felt his pockets to find his phone. He took it out and switched it on, and saw that he had five missed calls. “Let me just listen to these and make sure there’s nothing relevant.” He pressed the speed-dial for his messages. The two detectives stood facing Michael as he placed the phone at his ear, and the service clicked on. “First one’s from you,” said Michael, continuing to press the phone against his ear. “So’s the second”—he smiled at the DCS, waiting for the next playback—“and so’s the third! Sorry about this.” A few seconds more passed and Michael nodded his head. “This one’s from my work asking me when I think I’m going to be able to get back.” Still Michael was pressing the phone to his ear and was about to end the call when he heard a voice he instantly recognized. The words were spoken slowly and calmly.
“Michael. You know who this is. If you are with the police now, just act normally and pretend this is a routine call from a friend.” There was a pause. “Tell them it’s just an old mate, and then listen to the rest of this when you are on your own.” Michael was aware that the two detectives were looking at him with curiosity. He had a moment of indecision and was about to reveal the truth when something stopped him. He clicked off the call. “It’s just a bloke from work sending sympathy about Rose. I’ll call him back later.”
Perhaps there was something in Michael’s tone which made Superintendent Bailey wonder, and he continued to look at Michael for a few moments, as though trying to work out whether he was telling the truth.
“Are you sure, Michael? Nothing we need to know about?”
“No, nothing.” Michael tried to sound as casual and convincing as he knew how. “Just a friend from work.”
“What’s his name?”
“What?”
“I just wondered what your friend’s name is? The one who’s a liability.”
“Oh, it’s Stephen. He’s my boss at work. It’s just Stephen. I’ll phone him back later.”
The two detectives seemed satisfied with the answer. They apologized once more for disturbing the family and said they would be back in touch tomorrow. Michael watched from the window as they drove out of the car park, then returned to his phone and called voice mail again. He played through to where he had interrupted the recording and listened intently.
“OK, so I’m assuming you’re now on your own. Well, Michael, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? A lot of water under the bridge, as you might say.” There seemed to be an underlying sneer in the voice, and Michael found that he was shaking his head in disbelief at what he was hearing. “So I guess you must have been wondering what really happened all those years ago—what I did, what Elizabeth did, and most of all what you did yourself. And also why everything that has happened to you in the last week has happened. Well, I’ll be happy to tell you, Michael, but if you want to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, we will need to meet up. Yeah, that’s right, but no police. If you bring them, I will clam up tight and you will never ever learn what really happened. So I’ll call you at six o’clock tonight. Make sure you’re on your own, and I’ll tell you a time and place where we can meet. Cheers,” said the voice, “and by the way, Michael, I know exactly what you were talking about in your appeal on the telly about being torn apart. Always tight, always one. Isn’t that right, little bro?”
TWENTY-TWO
The telephone message from his brother sent Michael into a renewed state of shock, and he knew he would need to dig deep into his reserves of self-control if he was to stand any chance of acting normally as he returned to Mrs. Morrison’s office. He stood outside the door for a few moments, taking time to breathe deeply, but all the while feeling that the air was constricted in his lungs. He stuck out his chest and spun both of his arms like windmills, willing his heart to start pumping the oxygen through to the extremities of his body. Finally he inhaled as deeply as he could, mouthed a silent prayer to his grandma to give him strength, and reentered the room.
“What did the police want?” Margaret did not look up.
“Just the routine stuff,” said Michael, but he still felt breathless as the words came out. He coughed and swallowed hard. “Had I heard anything? Seems like I forgot to turn my phone back on after the ceremony and they couldn’t contact me.”
Neither woman appeared to notice his disarray, but still Michael turned aside, afraid that his facial expression would give away his state. He suggested that it was time to bring what had already been a very long day for all of them to an end, and no one disagreed.
Michael and Alison gave Margaret a ride to her rented home in Wimbledon. There was an unspoken understanding that events were likely to bring them together again soon, and so they made no arrangement. Alison remained in the car as Michael walked his mother to her door, and there was a moment of awkwardness before, for the first time since their reunion, he put both of his arms around her and held her closely to him.
“Your grandma was very proud of you Michael.” Margaret pushed her face into the lapels of Michael’s jacket and held her son tightly around his waist. “And she was right to be.” Then she loosened her arms and turned and headed indoors. “Let’s talk again in the next day or two.”
Michael and Alison continued the drive back to the apartment in Kingston, and he wondered whether or not to share the latest extraordinary twist in the unfolding series of events. Part of him wanted to spare her the further turmoil which would inevitably arise from knowing that his brother had contacted him. On the other hand, he had no firm idea what he should do about the call he had received and felt an overwhelming need to seek her opinion.
“Something happened today.” He kept looking at the road ahead as he spoke, but Alison turned towards to him in amazement.
“Are you kidding? Your grandmother’s funeral, an agonizing confession from your mother, and you and I talking again. Yes, I think something happened.”
Michael half turned back towards her with a smile and placed his hand on hers. “But even with all that going on, I’m afraid you need to get ready for another shock. It happened when I went out this afternoon to talk to Bailey and Collins.” Alison said nothing, but the expression on her face encouraged him to finish what he had to say. “I had a phone message from Martin.”
* * *
Less than an hour later they were sitting at the kitchen table in Rose’s apartment. Alison had been unable to react beyond the briefest expression of surprise and
alarm, but now there were only twenty minutes to go before the promised phone call from Martin, and they knew that they had an urgent decision to make. For her, at least, their choice seemed clear.
“For one thing, there’s the small matter of the law. If we know the whereabouts of a dangerous criminal and don’t tell the authorities, we could end up going to jail. And that’s not to mention the moral point of view. If we don’t tell the police and he kills again before they catch him, we’ll be indirectly responsible. Surely we don’t want that on our consciences?”
“All that’s true, and I get it,” said Michael, “but I can’t just ignore the fact that he is my brother, and we don’t have a single shred of firm evidence that he’s the Madman. I know that everything points to him, but remember that just a few days ago everything seemed to point to me. Don’t you think that the very least I owe him as his brother is to give him the benefit of the doubt? He didn’t say anything directly in the phone message about being responsible for the Madman killings, and if we hear him out, we’ll know in a moment if he’s guilty or not. If he is, we will obviously have to tell the police straightaway.”
Alison found his logic difficult to resist, and now Rose’s antique clock showed that the time was approaching 6:00 PM. Michael’s heart seemed to be pounding at about five beats to every one sweep of the pendulum.
They waited as the minutes went up to and then past the top of the hour, and Michael had begun to wonder if the call would come when his phone started to ring. He and Alison shared a last moment of doubt before Michael nodded and put the phone to his ear.
“Hello.”
There was silence on the line, but then Michael thought he could hear someone breathing. Alison’s expression turned from anticipation to inquiry, and so he put the phone on the table and pushed the speaker button. The static hum which filled the room seemed to have the sound of the sea in the background.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my little brother. We get to talk after all these years. Are you alone?” The voice was unmistakably the same as they had heard at the police press conference—undoubtedly that of the person claiming to be the Madman.
“I’m here with Elizabeth,” said Michael. “She and I are both very keen to know what you have to say.”
“Hello, Elizabeth,” said the voice from the speaker. “It’s nice to talk to you, too, after so much time. Thanks for coming to see me in the detention center.” There was another pause while Michael and Alison wondered how to respond. It was broken by a single word from Martin. “Not.”
“It’s very strange to be speaking to you, Martin,” said Michael. “A few days ago I had no idea that I even had a brother or had ever had a baby sister, let alone anything about what happened when we were all children. And now here you are, and there’s all this Madman stuff going on. I don’t know where to start asking you questions.”
“Exactly,” said Martin abruptly, “but I don’t want to talk for long on the phone. We should get together, just you and me, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know. You can ask me anything you like. Do you want to do that?”
“Of course I do, but it’s not possible. How can it be? The whole world knows our faces and everyone is looking for you. How could we possibly meet without you being arrested?”
“I’ve got pretty used to going out in disguise, Michael. I’m out and about right now, and people are walking past me. I think you’re resourceful enough to do the same. Meet me at midday tomorrow—tell you what—at the end of Brighton Pier. That should bring back some memories from when we were little kids together.”
“I just don’t see how we can do that, Martin.” Michael suddenly felt a desperate need to keep his brother on the line. “But just tell me one thing before you go.”
“What’s that? Be quick.”
“It’s bloody obvious that someone set me up as a suspect in the murders of all those children. I’ve been working hard to come up with an alternative answer, but it seems to me that the only person who could have done that is you. Did you all along want me to be arrested for the Madman murders?”
Martin laughed. “I wanted you to get just the smallest taste of what I’ve had to go through all these years. So, yes, I set you up just a little bit. After that first time, I watched you for weeks before I chose the places where I would do what I did. It was simple enough to break into the apartment to check out your wardrobe so I could make sure you had a set of clothes to match mine. Nice place, by the way, and what a cute picture of you on your first day at school.”
“So that was you…?” but Michael’s words were cut off sharply.
“I dropped back later on, too, just to make sure you had a gray hoodie, but I couldn’t find one, so I made you a little present of mine. And it was easy enough to get into your work and make a few minor adjustments to the sound monitors. After that, I sat and watched it all take its course.”
“But why, Martin? What did I do to deserve that? And what on earth did any of those kids do to deserve what you did to them? What the hell were you thinking?”
“I’ll explain it all,” said Martin. “But that’s enough for now. I’ll tell you everything you need to know tomorrow. Twelve o’clock, midday. Brighton Pier. No police.” The line went dead.
* * *
A further ten minutes passed before either Michael or Alison could express anything sensible about their thoughts. “So that’s that then,” she said finally. “There can be no more doubt that Martin is the Madman. He admitted it. Surely we have to tell the police straightaway, don’t we?”
“I guess we do,” said Michael, “but just think, if we do that right now, the chances are that neither of us will ever know what happened on that day. He’s told us already that he’ll clam up and we may never know the truth. As it is, whatever he thinks happened has caused him to believe that I deserve this nightmare I’ve been put through. I have to find out what that’s all about. And it’s only one day. I don’t believe that even a fucking Madman is going to kill anyone else before tomorrow.”
* * *
Later the couple set off in the car towards Brighton, and while neither of them felt certain that they were doing the right thing, events seemed to have taken on their own momentum. It was beginning to grow dark outside, and the driving rain caused the oncoming headlights to blur and dazzle. The defrosters were not working, and Michael asked Alison to reach across to wipe the inside of the windscreen so that he could see the road ahead. They drove for most of the journey in silence, each of them scouring the deepest corners of their memories but discovering nothing further.
It was late and dark by the time they arrived and unpacked the car, but still Alison suggested that they should take a walk to stretch their legs and clear their thoughts. They set off to retrace once again the route they’d taken together on the morning after their first meeting. The rain had stopped, and after a few hundred yards they lengthened their stride and began to suck in the fresh sea air.
“God, it’s so good to feel some oxygen in your lungs,” said Alison. “It seems like days since I’ve been able to breathe freely.”
“Yes, it feels good,” said Michael, “and even more so when I think how it’s only just over a week since I was looking at the possibility of an indefinite stretch in jail.”
“Just like Martin,” said Alison.
“I guess so,” said Michael, and wondered whether she was thinking about what his brother had faced before, or what he was facing now. “But maybe he should have thought of that before he started throwing tiny kids into the river?”
The time was approaching 11:00 PM and neither of them had discussed how they would spend the night ahead. Since the moment that Esme had told him about Alison’s true identity, Michael had been trying to reconcile himself to the notion that he and she would never be intimate again. All the while her role in the death of his baby sister remained unclear, he could not imagine how it would be possible to be so close to her. It was not until earlier today, as he li
stened to her own account of events, that the weight of all that began to be lifted from him, and he allowed himself to wonder whether they might be able to pick up their lives where they left off.
Still, though, Michael knew that there was one more hurdle he had to get over before all barriers between them could be swept away. He feared the consequences of yet another difficult revelation, but even more than that, he feared embarking on the next stage of his life with Alison without complete honesty. If they were ever to have a chance of moving forward together, this was his opportunity to start with a totally clean sheet.
“Now that Martin has admitted what he’s done, there’s something else I need to tell you.” Alison looked at him with renewed apprehension, but then once again the expression on her face encouraged him to continue. “I’m sure you understand that one of the most difficult aspects of all this for me was the discovery that someone has been trying to put me under suspicion for the killings. Framing me for these terrible crimes.” He hesitated momentarily as though to check on his own resolve, but quickly decided to continue. “It’s been a terrible blow to me to learn that my own brother was responsible for doing so. I still can’t imagine why he did, but in a way it was also a relief to hear it from him.”
“How so?” said Alison. Michael paused again and took a deep breath.
“Because right in the middle of all that, before I even knew of the existence of Martin, the thought occurred to me that the person trying to incriminate me could possibly be you.”
Alison’s footsteps slowed, and within a few more seconds she had come to a halt. He stood alongside her, waiting for her to react, his anxiety increasing moment by moment. He was getting ready to try to row back from his statement when she spoke.
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