by KERRY BARNES
Bruce patted Justin’s arm. ‘Mums forgive anything. Go on, get yourself some rest. I’ll have a word at the station and see if we can get this shit cleared up.’
Chapter 22
Deni shuffled into Kara’s room, her hair sticking up in all directions, and her face looking withered. ‘I couldn’t sleep. How about you, babe?’
With a shake of her head, Kara replied, ‘No, not a wink, even the baby was restless. Why is it all taking so long? I’ll wear the floor out, if I pace this cell one more time. It’s been more than three days since I called Stuart, and I’ve heard nothing, not even a letter.’
‘Now, now, don’t get yaself worked up. He’s probably looking into it all, and ya know the police can take forever. It will all come good in the end. That Stuart is pulling out all the stops. I mean, I’ve never heard of a barrister going to all this trouble at his own expense to help an inmate the way he’s helped you.’
Kara wasn’t listening. ‘I just can’t believe it, and furthermore, I don’t understand it, Deni. I mean, how was Lucy caught up with Justin, if she’s as bad as Vic said?’
Deni sat heavily on the bed and slowly removed the baby from Kara, gently rocking her. ‘Well, look on the bright side. No judge in the poxy land will let Justin have the baby, not while he’s with her. Fuck me, whatever possessed the man to take up with someone like her, when he could have a diamond like you?’
‘I was so upset, after that visit, Deni, I can’t remember half of what was said. Tell me, did you know this Lucy well?’
With the baby in one arm and using the other hand to push herself off the bed, Deni gently laid Denise Rose in the crib. ‘There, she has gone off.’ Deni sighed heavily, and the corners of her mouth turned down. ‘Yeah, babe, I’m afraid to say, I knew her all too well. She was a fucking trollop and no mistake.’
‘They won’t get custody of my baby, will they?’ Her eyes were full of desperation.
Deni folded her arms under her breasts. ‘Cor, blimey, no, not once they find out about her criminal record. I mean, it’s as long as a fireman’s hose. Even one of my own girls had her nicked, and that, in my line of work, goes right against the grain. Mind you, I couldn’t blame Manda.’
‘Tell me, Deni, what you know.’
‘Little Manda, we called her, stick-thin she was, but she had this really pretty face, you know, like a china doll, with rosebud lips and huge blue eyes. The poor cow was wandering the streets, refusing point-blank to go back home. She was a wreck when Rocky brought her to me. He said she was too young to be streetwalking. Anyway, the little lass was streetwise, and no matter how much I tried to talk her out of selling herself, she was adamant. Rocky took a shine to her – not in that way – but he wanted to help her, ya know. He took her to the flat he’d put Lucy in. A right nice pad, that was.
‘Well, anyway, Lucy was up in arms and made it quite clear she wasn’t happy. That’s when Rocky told her, if she didn’t accept little Manda, then she would find herself out on her ear. The cunt played them both, pretending she would accept her, and for a few weeks, Manda said she was really nice. Of course, I had my concerns then ’cos Lucy was never really nice …’ Deni held back the emotion that was trapped in her throat. She sighed heavily and shook her head. ‘That kiddie was scarred for life, the poor little thing. Lucy had drugged her, and let a punter have his wicked way with her.’
Kara gasped, and her eyes widened. ‘No!’
‘Yep, she’d drugged the kid and told the police that Manda had men in and out and anything could have happened. Lucy said she’d gone out for the evening, yet Manda, in her half-conscious state, only remembered bits and pieces. But the poor cow was too doped up to do anything about it …’ She shuddered and wiped her brow. ‘What she must have gone through was pure terror. The fucking nutjob of a man beat her black and blue. You know, what makes me sick was the police didn’t charge Lucy because she was fucking the detective.’
Her eyes fell on Kara, who was open-mouthed with horror. ‘My God, and Justin expects me to leave my baby in the hands of that basket case?’
Deni threw her hands in the air. ‘Well, it’s all on record, so you can have your solicitor pull that as the trump card.’
Kara looked over at her sleeping baby and slowly nodded. ‘I will insist they dig out her records because I’m sure they’ll find more.’
‘Oh, there is! So much more. Anyway, you can talk it all over with this Stuart guy. I’m sure he will look after your interests. It seems to me, he’s doing more than his job. I told you ages ago I thought he had a little crush on ya. Otherwise, why would he go above and beyond?’ she said, with a mischievous smile.
Kara waved her hand. ‘Oh, Deni, don’t go there. Anyway, I have Rocky, now.’
‘About that, um …’
With a frown deeply edged on Kara’s face, she urged Deni to go on.
‘He is lovely, Kara, but you are worlds apart, although I know it’s none of my business.’ She looked outside the room, to make sure no one was listening. ‘He’s no angel, babe. I like him ’cos he looked out for my girls, but that’s no life for you. Once a villain, always a villain, and no matter how much he thinks he’s on the straight and narrow, he can never really have two feet in the law-abiding world. He’ll always have a size-twelve boot in some crime venture. You, my babe, are made of finer things, and as much as you think you don’t deserve better, you damn well do.’
‘But I love him, Deni,’ she almost whimpered.
‘Nah ya don’t, Kara, you love the idea of him. That’s something entirely different.’
Kara changed the subject. ‘I wonder if Stuart has called the police about the ring?’
Deni nodded. ‘He has a legal obligation to do so, love.’
As her heart pounded in her chest, Kara felt nervous, yet excited. Her unanswered questions had kept her up for three nights, and she needed answers, before she climbed the walls. Just as Deni was about to leave the room, she was almost knocked down by Vic. ‘Jesus, girl, what’s up with you?’
Vic was clearly distraught; her face was crimson and her eyes were glassy.
‘I’ve been trying to speak to Rocky about my parole, but I couldn’t get hold of him. Then, when I phoned Angie, she told me. Me brother’s in hospital. That fucking Justin has only gone and mown him down. His legs were crushed.’
Leaping from the bed, Kara threw her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh my God! Is he okay? I mean, apart from his legs?’
Vic slumped down on the bed. ‘I dunno. Angie reckons he is, but she’s as daft as a fucking box of frogs. Fuck me, what on earth bleedin’ went on after that visit?’
Kara was still in disbelief and shook her head. ‘My God, this just gets worse. I feel so bad. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened. I just seem to be blighted with a black cloud following me around and raining hell on anyone who knows me.’
Vic jumped up, out of breath from the shock. ‘Now, you listen to me. This ain’t your doing. It’s that bastard Lucy. I will bet me own sanity that she’s behind it. If anyone leaves mayhem in their fucking path, it’s her.’
‘I just cannot imagine Justin doing something so reckless. He was never violent. Running someone down is just so hard to believe.’
Vic shot her a questioning glare.
‘Oh, no, Vic, I’m not saying I don’t believe it, of course I do, but it’s just so out of character.’
‘And he ain’t pressing charges either, so Justin will get away with everything scot-free.’
The guilt overwhelmed Kara and she cupped her hands over her face and cried. Before Deni or Vic could comfort her, Barbara stepped into the cell and screeched, ‘You two, get to work!’
Vic didn’t argue. She was on her way home soon and needed to keep her nose clean. Deni, however, had nothing to lose, and, as was often the case, had plenty to say. Like now. ‘You really are a right miserable fucking mare.’
‘Don’t push it, Denton!’ snapped Barbara.
With a huff and a si
gh, Deni waddled out of the room leaving Barbara with a nasty smirk on her spiteful face. ‘You can take the baby to the nursery while you have your legal visit.’ She scowled as she turned to face Kara.
‘A legal visit? What? No one said.’
‘What were you expecting, a gold letter handed to you on a silver plate? Just get that baby over to the nursery. Your visit is in ten minutes,’ retorted Barbara.
‘No, I won’t. Cole can watch her for me. She is down as one of my baby’s partners, since you have just demanded Deni go to work.’
It was obvious Kara had been crying and Barbara grinned even more. ‘Well, you need to get used to being away from your kid ’cos you’ll be handing her over long before you leave ’ere.’
Kara stood up and inclined her head to the side. ‘Tell me, Barbara, why are you so cruel?’ She kept her voice to a soft controlled pitch, which strangely unnerved the officer.
‘What?’
‘You know, Barbara, you just seem to enjoy being particularly wicked, like poison.’ She stepped closer and watched as the officer backed away.
‘It amazes me somewhat why no one has smashed your head to a pulp.’
Barbara was spooked. Kara’s tone was low and slow, and it was said with such an undercurrent of creepiness.
Without responding, Barbara turned on her heel and walked out of the cell. This was not the Kara she recognised. The woman was clearly able to switch to a different – scary – persona whenever she felt like it and her words sent a shiver up Barbara’s spine. Once outside the cell, the officer took a deep breath. Although she’d become hardened to the inmates shouting abuse, her defence mechanism seemed to have no answer to Kara, who was different and almost passive-aggressive.
* * *
As soon as Colette had arrived, Kara was ready to meet her lawyer. She brushed her hair that was now very long and added moisturiser to her face. Her skin had dried out from a lack of fresh circulating air in the mothers’ unit. George himself came to collect her. He asked how she was doing and if she had everything she needed, now particularly concerned for her welfare after all that had happened to her.
The moment he opened the door to the visiting room, Kara jumped back; she was shocked to see two other men there with Stuart.
‘Hello, Kara, please do come in. At last, I can introduce you to Bruce Williams, who, as you know, is my private detective, and this is Detective Inspector Hamilton from the Metropolitan Police.’
With a nervous smile, Kara gingerly took her seat, her eyes wide and full of trepidation.
DI Hamilton was a man in his late fifties, tall and thickset, with mousy hair cut close to his head. His shoulders were pulled back as he sat confidently next to Bruce Williams.
Clutching a stack of papers, DI Hamilton held them up and said, ‘This, here, is a pile of notes regarding an unsolved case.’
Stuart Venables and Bruce Williams remained quiet, just watching the expression on Kara’s face. She noticed how tired they both were. Stuart had a five o’clock shadow and Bruce also appeared dishevelled. His hair was greasy, and he hadn’t shaved.
‘We followed up the message you left with your lawyer and Bruce spoke to Justin Fox.’ He placed the file back on the table. ‘He informed us of his concerns regarding his wife, Lucy, and I have to say we were very alarmed. It appears that she did indeed go to Australia, and whilst she was out there, she referred to herself as Lucille, and for a time, she did look after Joan. She also had in her possession a box of Rohypnol, and as a scientist, I have no need to tell you what that is used for.’
Under the table, Kara was wringing her hands, her knees were shaking, and she stared, trying to take in the detective’s words and the cold manner in which they were said.
‘The second coroner that dealt with your mother’s post-mortem samples—’
‘What!’ shrieked Kara.
Hamilton raised his brow. ‘Yes, Miss Bannon, your mother died unexpectedly, and I know you are aware that a post-mortem was carried out, although initially, it was deemed as self-inflicted, a possible suicide, or an overdose of her prescribed painkillers. But we requested another coroner to reassess the blood samples and report, considering the recent concerns. The latest report confirmed abnormal swelling of her liver and lethal damage to her kidneys, again possibly caused by an overdose of her current medication, but, interestingly, on close examination, the coroner found small unusual bleeds in the liver, indicative of poisoning.’
‘Oh my God! No! But you …’ She paused, looking at Stuart. ‘You said she’d died and was cremated months ago. You never mentioned she was poisoned.’ Her eyes frantically searched the expression on the men’s faces. The anxiety curled into her stomach and clawed up her throat, as if it was choking her.
Stuart looked away.
‘Stuart!’ she cried.
‘Miss Bannon, Stuart acted as your barrister for the crime for which you were convicted, namely, for the arson attack on Justin Fox’s home. But Stuart, here, went beyond that. Out of the kindness of his heart, he employed the services of Bruce Williams, a former colleague of mine, because you had concerns that your mother hadn’t returned your calls.’ Hamilton’s cold stare and no-nonsense manner turned Kara’s stomach over and a wave of light-headedness swept through her, leaving her mouth dry. All eyes were on her. She remained speechless, almost predicting the next sentence.
‘We tracked down Lucy at the hospital, nursing her son. He is very sickly, you know, and it seems he has problems brought on by a particular poison – the same poison Joan Bannon died from.’
‘Oh my God! Are you saying she murdered my mother and tried to kill her own son?’
Hamilton shook his head. ‘No, Miss Bannon. I’m absolutely not saying that. She never poisoned anyone, did she?’
With the realisation that the detective had uncovered so much, the blood rushed to her ears, her pulse skyrocketed, and Kara stared in disbelief.
‘No, she didn’t try to kill her own child because she herself had ingested the poison. Sadly, she was unaware that she was pregnant at this time.’
The tension in the air was almost palpable. Kara was too afraid to speak, as she dug her nails into her hands and bit down on her lip.
‘Lucy, however, wasn’t squeaky clean. It seems she did have a dark, sinister part to play in all of this, a part, Miss Bannon, you didn’t see coming. Lucy, as you may or may not be aware, is your sister.’
He paused to see her eyes open wide and her pupils suddenly dilate. The blood visibly drained from her face. Kara remained motionless, still digesting his words.
‘You do know she is your sister, don’t you, Miss Bannon?’
‘What? My sister? But … this Lucy or Lucille was my mother’s carer, wasn’t she? My mother never said …?’ Stumped and totally bewildered, as if her thoughts were all suddenly glued together, Kara couldn’t speak.
Hamilton continued in a stiff tone. ‘Two sisters separated at a young age, both despising each other, both believing their lives would be better.’
‘No, no, you’ve got that all wrong. I didn’t know her. I didn’t even know her name. I just thought …’
Butting in, Hamilton was cold. ‘You hated Joan, though, didn’t you?’
Uncurling her hunched posture, Kara sat back on her chair and raised her eyebrow, with a sheer look of smug defiance. Stuart’s eyes widened as he witnessed what he thought was a sweet, unassuming young woman transform into a dark, evil-eyed, and sneering creature.
With a cold stare, she thought about her mother. No, she didn’t like her; in fact, she hated her with a passion. She knew all along that she had a sister and a father but was denied any further details as to where they lived or even their names. Joan wanted to move on with her life, and so when Kara was nine years old, Joan took up with Thomas Grey, a wealthy businessman, who was already married, and who kept Joan as his dirty little secret. It sickened Kara how her mother acted like some lovesick teenager, running around after him.
But that
wasn’t why she detested her mother. It wasn’t jealousy; it was her mother’s denial. She shivered, as if a ghost had walked right through her. The vision of him sneaking into her bedroom and slowly lowering himself onto her bed was almost vivid. His hands were pawing at her, his hot, sickly breath, always smelling of whisky, lingering as he buried his face into her neck. Then, it turned physical, as the biting and kissing, which turned her stomach, led to the unforgivable outrage and that unbearable pain and humiliation where she left her body to escape reality, and her mind took her to a place in one of her books as it overcompensated for the brutality she was experiencing.
Joan was there, though, outside that door, spying on her. She never stopped him, and she never came to Kara’s rescue. Her selfish excuse was that she just didn’t want him to run back to his wife. She would do whatever it took to keep him – even if it meant allowing the disgusting man to take what he wanted from a naive and frightened twelve-year-old child.
The day her mother sent her to boarding school was the day she planned her revenge. She had to read and study; no one would get away with murder, if they didn’t have a brain.
She craved the solitary existence whilst surrounded by all the pupils at school during the day and those who were in her dormitory at night. She imagined her sister free to live a wonderful life, having her own bedroom and real friends, not friends who were thrust upon her. She pictured her sitting with her father and both of them laughing together as she told him what she’d done that day. She craved the love of her real father; it must be a joy, she thought, and so different from the cold suffocating glares Thomas Grey gave her, the man she despised, and for good reason.
Lonely, sad, and yet frightened to be at home, Kara occupied her days with her nose in a book, hiding from the bitter disappointment of life, always wondering what her sister was doing, and forever pondering why she was with her mother. As the years passed, Kara began to despise Joan. She didn’t hate her sister, because she never knew her, and she was intelligent enough to realise that whatever caused her to be separated from her sister was down to their parents, including Joan. That was another reason for hating her mother. She believed that her mother had taken her from her real father and forced her to live with Thomas Grey.