The Silent Children: A serial-killer thriller with a twist

by Carol Wyer

  ‘Thank you for believing me.’

  ‘Of course I believe you.’ Ross picked up the last piece of cake and studied it with a sigh. ‘Ah, that’s the problem with all good things,’ he said. ‘They come to an end.’ He shovelled in the cake and wiped the crumbs from around his mouth.

  ‘Now, I must take Duke to the park. So, my dear cousin, head back to your office and don’t give this any further thought. I’ll keep you in the loop and, Robyn, don’t expect too much, will you?’

  ‘I won’t. Thanks again, Ross.’

  He rubbed at his cheek and said, ‘You can kiss me here.’

  She chuckled heartily and gave him a playful thump on his arm instead.

  ‘Ouch! That’s more like it. My favourite cousin.’

  ‘I’m your only cousin.’

  ‘Just as well. I’d be running around like a madman sorting you all out. Imagine all that responsibility!’

  Thirty-One

  THEN

  * * *

  The house is empty. The boy shrugs off his schoolbag and calls for his mother.

  ‘She’s out,’ comes the reply.

  The boy feels sick. Clark is in the kitchen, making hot chocolate. He stirs the mug slowly then brings the spoon to his thin lips and licks it, his eyes never straying from the boy.

  Clark speaks at last. ‘Do you want me to make you one?’

  ‘Where’s Mum?’

  ‘I suggested she had some time off for herself. She’s getting her hair done. I gave her the money for her treat. Nice of me, wasn’t it? She’s really happy. I told her I’d look after you since your sister is out at her friend’s house.’

  The boy feels his knees begin to tremble. He knows what Clark really wants.

  ‘Since that was a nice thing for me to do, I think you should do something nice for me in return, don’t you?’

  He knows he can’t refuse. Clark looks shy and pathetic but he isn’t. He can cause pain in many ways that can’t be detected. The boy has felt that pain. Clark has taken photographs of him naked in various poses, some together with his sister. Clark will not only rip out their tongues if they say anything to their mother, but will plaster the photographs on every lamp post in the town and then everyone will see him and his sister naked and laugh and laugh at them. The boy has learnt the pain of shame. He hates having to pose with his naked sister, arm around her, both of them with mouths taped over, but Clark has threatened them both, over and over, and they know he’s dangerous.

  He plods upstairs, into his old bedroom, and begins to undress. He peels off his school uniform, letting it drop to the floor. The sooner he does this, the sooner it will be over. Clark follows him into the bedroom and shuts the door, softly.

  ‘That’s lovely,’ he says as the boy drops his trousers and stands in his underpants. This time Clark doesn’t pick up his camera. Instead, he drops his own trousers.

  ‘I think it’s time for us to become very good friends,’ he says.

  He’s powerless to resist Clark’s demands or to speak out about him. He’s only twelve, and who believes a twelve-year-old? His mother certainly won’t. They’re all used to keeping secrets in this house. He remembers too well the golden rule of silence. For a second, his mind jolts back to a time before Clark. He shuts his eyes and remembers the first time he learnt to keep silent…

  Outside is frosty and bright; a new day. Hidden from view in his hallway, he observes a group of schoolchildren prancing down his street, pushing, joking and laughing with each other. He lifts his own schoolbag from the floor, and takes a last look in the hall mirror before opening the front door. He studies the bruise turning yellow at the base of his neck. With quick fingers his mother tightens his tie and pulls his collar high above it. Her eyes alone say, ‘We will not speak of this…’

  The boy waits for instructions and says nothing. It’s always best to say nothing.

  Thirty-Two

  DAY FIVE – SATURDAY, 18 FEBRUARY, AFTERNOON

  * * *

  Robyn slipped behind her desk. Anna and David had returned while she’d been out and were hunched over some documents at the far side of the room, deep in discussion.

  She pulled out the Henry Gregson file and hunted through every detail. They’d not had one lucky break. Every avenue she’d pursued had led to a dead end. There had to be something she was missing. She reflected on his movements that day. He’d not gone to work. Although his vehicle had been spotted at an automatic number plate recognition point on the way to Lichfield, it hadn’t passed through the next ANPR on the main road just outside Lichfield. Why was that? He must have stopped or turned off before that point.

  She dragged up a map of the area on her computer screen and tried to determine where he might have headed. He could have driven to any of the houses along the route, or headed north from the roundabout, along the A515 towards Yoxall. She stopped reading. Yoxall was significant. Juliet, Roger and Tessa – quiz team members – all lived near Yoxall, and his friend, Liam, lived in the village. Juliet had been at work that day so it was unlikely Henry had intended visiting her. He might have been heading to Tessa Hall’s house. It was a possibility Robyn couldn’t ignore. However, if it wasn’t Tessa, then it might be one of the others.

  Liam had denied seeing Henry that day. Liam’s partner, Ella, had been at home with him that morning, before she left to visit her friend, and he’d stayed behind to look after their child. He’d been out and about the village and had several witnesses who’d seen him.

  She dragged out the statements and read through them. Ella had corroborated his alibi. She’d returned earlier than planned, and Liam was at home when she got in. It was implausible for Liam to have driven to Cannock Chase, murdered Henry and returned to Yoxall before 2 p.m.; besides, he’d been in charge of Astra. It was unlikely he’d have taken her along to Cannock Chase to shoot his friend. Liam wasn’t a suspect, so why was her scalp prickling? She was missing something. She would talk to Ella herself.

  * * *

  The village of Yoxall would have made the perfect setting for a countryside television drama, mused Robyn. It stood on the banks of a meandering river and was surrounded by undulating farmland. Pockets of early frost still clung to hedgerows and twinkled on tree branches, creating a postcard-perfect winter scene. Houses set back from the main street were a mixture of old and new buildings, and nestled between were quaint village pubs and antique shops, all next to the twisting A515 that rose gently from the village towards Ashbourne and the Peak District beyond.

  Carrington’s house was at the entrance to the village and belonged to a bygone era. A small, L-shaped converted barn in aged red brick, it stood in the shadow of a large farmhouse and adjacent to fields occupied by bullocks that snorted at Robyn’s car as she pulled up to it. A blackbird sat on the tiled ridge of the barn, observed the intruder and chattered angrily as Robyn rang the bell.

  The door opened wide. Ella hoisted Astra onto a slim hip and beckoned Robyn inside with her free hand. Robyn found herself directly in a cluttered kitchen and facing a square table with seating for four, small, slim people. The interior walls weren’t plastered as she’d have imagined, but of the same brick as the exterior, making the place feel cool in spite of the heat coming from the nearby radiator. Kitchen units formed a U-shape, covering the back and side walls, and there was little room for the clutter of the ironing board and clothes piled in a basket in front of the fridge. A door to the left of the kitchen had been left slightly ajar, and from her vantage point, Robyn spotted an unmade double mattress on the floor and, alongside it, a single bed with a pink duvet.

  ‘Sorry, the place is a tip. I haven’t had a chance to clear up. Astra’s had me running about all morning, haven’t you, sweetie pie?’

  Astra buried her head into Ella’s neck.

  ‘Hi, Astra, remember me?’ Robyn held up the colouring book she’d brought.

  ‘Oh, Astra, look what DI Carter’s brought you.’

  The girl gradually craned her nec
k. She’d been crying again and her cheeks were stained with tear marks. She gawked at the book being offered.

  ‘Do you like colouring?’ Robyn spoke gently.

  Astra nodded dumbly.

  ‘Me too. Look at all these pictures.’ She flicked through some pages and rested on one of a farm. ‘Do you know what this is?’ she asked.

  ‘Farm,’ said Astra, her face brightening. ‘That’s a cow.’ She pointed at an animal.

  ‘Well done. Have you got some crayons?’

  Astra nodded again, reaching for the colouring book. Robyn handed it to her and she grasped it tightly, eyes on Robyn.

  ‘Say thank you, Astra.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Robyn smiled at the girl, who was scouring the page, eyes on the animals. ‘I have something else for you.’

  The girl looked up in wonder as Robyn produced the black toy cat from a plastic bag. ‘I have a cat exactly like this. This one’s for you.’

  Astra let out a small gasp of pleasure and her cheeks lifted.

  ‘You shouldn’t have,’ said Ella but she was smiling too. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure. I saw it and thought of Astra.’

  ‘Down,’ said Astra, wriggling to escape Ella’s arms. She looked from the book in her hands to the cat in Robyn’s, placed the book on the table and reached up for the cat. Robyn crouched down and handed it over. The girl took it and held it to her face, rubbing it against her cheeks. ‘Cat.’

  Astra ran off, up some wooden stairs by the front door, to fetch her crayons.

  Ella spoke. ‘Thank you so much. That’s really cheered her up. She’s been behaving differently since Henry died. I think she misses him. He was always dropping in. Every time somebody knocks at the door, she hopes it’s him.’

  Ella had sounded timid on the phone, but she walked with confidence as she led the way from the kitchen, down two steps into a small sitting room – one window overlooked the wide tarmac drive Robyn had pulled onto, the other over countryside. Ella gave a warm smile, her wide mouth and full lips perfectly proportioned in her almost perfect face. A scar that ran from under her left eye to her upper lip was still visible in spite of thick concealer. Robyn didn’t stare at it and instead smiled at Astra, who’d returned with a tin of crayons. She fetched her book from the kitchen and dropped to the floor with it, the cat next to her.

  ‘Beautiful spot,’ said Robyn, looking out at the fields beyond. ‘Lovely house.’

  ‘We rent it. It’s a tad on the small side. There’s only one bedroom but there’s space upstairs that Astra uses as her playroom. It belongs to the farmhouse next door. The owner – Eugene McNamara – was once a top jockey but he had an accident and went into property development. Now he owns all the outbuildings on this old farm and converted them into houses. He owns all the converted cow barns the other side of the farmhouse too. They’re much bigger than this and very grand. They’re too expensive for us to rent. This is pricey enough.’

  ‘Rents must be very high around here – prime location,’ said Robyn.

  Ella returned a thin smile. ‘We were lucky. Eugene came from a poor Irish family himself. He lets us have this place for a special reduced rate. He said he remembers what it was like to struggle. So, what can I do for you? I still can’t believe what happened to Henry.’ Ella turned her attention to Astra, who was now colouring. ‘Honey, use the brown crayon for the cow. They’re not purple.’

  Astra shook her head. ‘I want it purple.’

  Ella tutted. ‘She can be so stubborn. This has been absolutely heartbreaking. Lauren’s like a zombie. I don’t know what to say to her. Have you made any progress with finding out what happened?’

  Astra spoke without looking up. ‘Lauren was crying.’

  ‘Yes, she was. And you know why she was crying, don’t you, sweetie?’

  Astra nodded, put down her crayon and picked up the toy cat, holding it to her, eyes suddenly dewy.

  Ella winced. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ she whispered. ‘Astra, why don’t you take the cat to meet your other toys?’

  Astra thought about it for a moment then pushed herself up and moved slowly away, head low.

  Robyn watched Astra leave before answering Ella’s question. ‘We’re still following up leads. Unfortunately, it’s taking much longer than I’d like. I’m trying to get a better picture of Henry and work out why he went to Cannock Chase.’

  ‘You should really talk to Liam about it. They were good friends and spent a lot of time together at work. I only knew Henry and Lauren socially. Henry was such a nice man. He was one of those people who couldn’t do enough for you. Liam liked him from the off. It was his idea to ask Henry to be Astra’s godfather. We had her christened last year. Decided we ought to. Henry was so good to Astra.’

  ‘How would you describe him?’

  ‘As I said: good, kind, nice, gentle – all those clichés that people seem to come out with after somebody dies. But he was. He was a really good man.’

  ‘So lots of people really liked him?’

  ‘I’d say so. Liam certainly did, and Lauren was always going on about the kids he trained at Brocton. They all loved him too. It was impossible not to like him.’

  ‘Did you see much of him?’

  ‘Oh yes. He and Lauren came around most weeks. They’d pick up Astra and take her out. Treated her like she was their own. They’d been trying for children of their own for ages.’

  Robyn nodded. ‘We looked through his phone records and couldn’t help but notice he regularly spoke to you and Liam.’

  ‘Yeah. So did Lauren. It wasn’t unusual for him to chat to one or the other of us. He was a really friendly guy. Sometimes, if Liam was working, he’d ring me up, see how I was, ask about Astra. He couldn’t do enough for her.’

  ‘That’s nice. You must miss him too.’

  Ella stared at her hard. ‘I do. I can’t believe he’s gone.’

  ‘Can I ask you a couple of questions about the fourteenth of February? Just so I can make sure I’ve got my facts straight.’

  ‘Sure.’ Ella fiddled with a child’s cardigan that had been abandoned on the settee, folded it and replaced it.

  ‘You visited a friend that day, didn’t you?’

  Her eyebrows pulled downwards for a second. ‘Yeah. Cassie Snow. At Queen’s Hospital in Burton.’

  ‘You told my officer you returned home earlier than expected and Liam was here when you got back.’

  ‘Fast asleep on the sofa, the lazy sod,’ Ella said with a laugh, displaying white teeth. ‘It’s fine for me to look after Astra all day, but he has her for a couple of hours and he’s worn out. Want a cup of tea? I’ll make us one.’

  She bustled back into the kitchen. Robyn followed her and waited while she pulled out two white mugs from a cupboard and held one up.

  Robyn refused the unspoken offer. In her opinion, Ella was playing for time.

  ‘You didn’t spot Henry’s car parked anywhere in Yoxall as you drove through, did you, or maybe when you returned?’

  ‘I don’t much like driving. I don’t own a car. I caught the ten o’clock bus. I didn’t see Henry’s car. It wasn’t here when I got home. Liam didn’t say he’d seen him, did he?’ She asked the question casually, filling the kettle, her back turned to Robyn.

  ‘Liam told us he took Astra to the park then on to the butcher’s shop, so it’s possible he could’ve missed Henry if he’d visited.’

  ‘Oh yeah. That’s possible. You best ask the neighbours over the road, then. They don’t miss much.’

  ‘Can you remember the exact times you left the house and came back? Just so I can be sure Henry wasn’t here before or after those times.’

  ‘I left at quarter to ten to walk to the bus stop and I was back here just after two.’

  ‘How was your friend?’

  She shrugged. ‘Bus didn’t get in on time, so I missed the connecting bus at the Octagon Centre and was then too late for visiting time. I decided to visi
t her another day. I went shopping for a while, got bored and came home instead.’ Ella fumbled about with a box of teabags before dropping one in the mug. ‘Sure you don’t want a tea?’

  ‘I’m fine. I won’t keep you. Astra’s a sweetie. I bet she keeps you occupied. Fancy going back to work when she’s older?’

  There was a flash of concern as Ella shook her head. ‘I’m happy to be a stay-at-home mum. I used to clean at the farmhouse, when she was younger, but now it’s more difficult to take her with me and get the work done.’ She rushed through the sentence.

  ‘Any plans for more children?’

  Ella shook her head. ‘One’s enough,’ she replied.

  ‘One last question. It’s concerning Tessa Hall.’

  Ella screwed her face up at the name.

  ‘You knew her?’

  ‘Only from the quiz nights. I’d go along to support Liam some evenings. She was on the same quiz team as Liam. She didn’t have any time for me, and I had none for her.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘She tried it on with my Liam – flirty cow. She was always drawing attention to herself. I put her straight and she kept out my way after that. She stayed away from Liam and me.’

  ‘Have you seen her recently?’

  ‘I haven’t. I was glad when Liam gave up going to those stupid quiz nights.’ She pressed her lips together in disapproval.

  * * *

  Robyn left the house with an overriding feeling that Ella was hiding something. She’d suggested Liam was really the person to have most contact with Henry, yet the phone records showed Henry had rung her mobile on numerous occasions. Surely they couldn’t have talked about nothing but the child? Ella’s furtive glances when asked about her movements suggested she was lying. Robyn had interviewed people before who had tried to deflect attention away from a question, and Ella had done exactly that with her comment about Liam being asleep when she got in, followed by the sudden offer of a cup of tea. And there was also the fact she hadn’t actually seen her friend and therefore had no concrete alibi.