“There’s something else,” she said a bit less sure of herself. “I’m almost thirty so I think it’s time I found my own place. I love living here but I need to spread my wings. I’ve found a flat, it’s only a few streets away so I’ll be able to visit all the time.”
“Katie, it’s okay,” said George. “We knew this day had to come at some point and we’re pleased you’ve finally found the confidence to fly the nest but we’re always here if you need us. Some things never change.”
“Oh Dad,” she said, eyes filling with tears.
“Don’t cry, you’ll spoil that lovely make-up,” he said fondly. The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” He patted his daughter’s cheek before heading for the front door.
“So you’re okay with this Mum?” she said.
“Course I am love. I just want you to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. That bitch from hell is where she belongs so now you can be.”
“I want to say thanks for believing in me when everyone else thought I was making it up about her.”
“I’ve never known you to lie and I spotted what that vicious little cow really was right away. She always was nasty, although I admit I never thought she’d turn out to be a serial killer.” She sighed and shook her head. “That poor husband of hers.”
“Katie, there’s someone here to see you,” George called through the house.
“It’s not another journalist, is it?” she called back. When the whole story about the Creegans had come tumbling out they’d been inundated with journalists after Elspeth had happily spilled the beans about what Sarah had done to her. She’d refused to speak to any of them, despite the financial inducements they’d waved in her face and eventually they’d got bored and left her alone. But she was always afraid they’d come back.
“No, it’s a friend of yours,” said her dad.
“Friend?” frowned Katie. “I don’t have any.”
“Best not keep them waiting,” said Sally, hopeful that she finally had a genuine friend.
Puzzled, Katie walked through the house to the front door, her dad giving her an encouraging smile as she went. When she saw who was waiting for her on the doorstep she gasped. “Patrick Wiley.”
“Katie,” he said, eyes popping out of his head. “You look…wow.”
“So do you,” she coyly replied. It was true. Although he was a few pounds heavier and his light brown hair had started to recede he was still handsome with that winning smile, eyes clear and blue. “What brings you here? It’s been years.”
He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. “To be honest I divorced my wife a couple of years ago and ever since I’ve wondered what happened to my old friend Katie Marsh. I’ve often thought about you over the years.”
“You have?” she said, astonished.
“Yes.” His smile broadened. “A lot.”
“Wait a minute, have you been reading the newspapers?” she said, suddenly suspicious. Surely he couldn’t be here just because he wanted to see her?
His smile faltered. “No. I’ve not seen any newspapers, I’ve been working in Dubai for the past three years. I only came back to Manchester yesterday and I really wanted to see you.”
“Oh, that’s okay then,” she said, her smile returning.
“You dyed your hair,” he commented. “It never used to be black.”
“I fancied a change.”
“You didn’t need to. You were always so pretty.”
“No I wasn’t,” she said, blushing.
“I always thought so. Very pretty.”
They smiled at each other shyly before looking away.
“So, did you become a computer programmer?” she asked him.
“I did. Living the dream,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “Are you still into the games?”
She was, in a big way, but was afraid he might think her silly for still playing them at her age.
“Only I brought this,” he added, holding up a game.
“The new Aftershock,” she cried. “Brilliant.”
“Want to play?”
Those words combined with his devastating smile made her knees go weak. “Too right I do. Come on in.”
As he stepped inside he touched her face. “You’ve still got that gorgeous smile. I always remembered that about you.”
“I thought you would have forgotten about me years ago,” she said, torn between wonder and delight.
“How could I when I’ve dreamed about you for fifteen years?”
He took her hand and Katie felt a spark run up her arm.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she said.
“Sorry?”
“I meant to play the game,” she blushed, pointing at the case in his hand.
“So you can kick my arse again?”
“Maybe this time I’ll let you win,” she said mischievously.
“I don’t mind whether I win or lose,” he said, just so happy to be back with her again.
Both Brodie and Cass were quiet and impatient on the journey to Wythenshawe Hospital Burns Unit. Clarke was waiting to greet them at the main doors and escorted them inside.
“What the bloody hell happened?” Brodie asked him.
“Lauren set fire to the entire ground floor of her home,” he began. “Maggie was asleep upstairs. While she was sleeping Lauren tied her to the bed so she couldn’t escape.”
“Did the smoke get her?” said Cass.
“No,” replied Clarke solemnly.
Brodie grimaced. He hadn’t liked Maggie at all but he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Except the Judas bastard John Lyons. He had a whole number of special tortures reserved for him.
“How badly was Lauren hurt?” said Cass.
“Third degree burns to the legs. She sat there and watched her mum burn to death. I don’t think she intended to get out alive herself but the fire service responded very quickly and pulled her out kicking and screaming. It was lucky they had their breathing apparatus on because she kept punching them. She’s refused to say a word about why she did it. She spoke to say she’d only talk to you and that was it.”
“Is she lucid?”
Clarke nodded. “She’s on painkillers but she’s alert.”
“I’d better wait out here,” said Cass. “She doesn’t like me.”
“I’ll wait with you,” said Clarke a little too eagerly for Brodie’s liking. He left them chatting quietly together. Before entering Lauren’s room he glanced back and saw Clarke gently take Cass’s hand and surreptitiously kiss the top of it, making her smile. At least he treated her nice.
Brodie pushed open the door to Lauren’s private room. A police officer was on guard duty, which was a bit pointless, it wasn’t like she could run away. Her legs were heavily bandaged. Her bare arms were a little red and covered with bruises, probably from being dragged out by burly firemen. An IV drip protruded from the top of her left hand. However Brodie barely registered all these things because he was too busy staring at the scars on her arms. Now Sarah’s words made sense.
He took the seat beside her and sighed heavily, gesturing to her arms. “Your dad did that to you, didn’t he?” Prosser had been wrong, she hadn’t self-harmed.
Lauren nodded. “He liked to practice on me so he’d get it just right on the women.”
Brodie stared at the network of teardrops and swirls. The ones on her left arm were more crude, the right more practiced. Obviously Bryan Flynn liked to work left to right.
“That must have been so painful?”
“It was,” she said, picking at her fingernails because she had no sleeves. “Afterwards anyway. Dad used to give me pills to make me sleep so I wouldn’t move and spoil it but when I woke up it really hurt.”
“Did the rest of the family know what he was doing?”
“Mark had no idea. Seth did, he used to watch, learning from Daddy,” she said bitterly. “Mum did too. She didn’t watch but she’d do anything to keep Dad happy. She’d tell me to stay quiet and still and i
t would all be over soon.”
Brodie was starting to think Maggie deserved her horrible death. “Why did you set fire to your house Lauren?”
“Mum knew what Seth and Sarah were going to do to Mark and she didn’t stop them. I loved Mark, he was so good.”
“She knew?” he exclaimed. “She let them murder one of her own sons?”
“She would have done anything for Seth, just like she did for Dad. When he died Seth took his place. I don’t mean like that,” she added when he looked disgusted. “I mean he became head of the household, she’d do anything he said.”
“Why? I don’t understand. Was she afraid of him?”
“No, she was proud. She thought he was strong. Mark was a sickly child, growing up he was ill a lot. Seth was never sick. She started to resent Mark because Dad blamed her for his illnesses and took it out on her. The older Mark got the healthier he became but the damage had been done. Mum was really close to Seth and she couldn’t stand Mark, couldn’t be bothered with him, even though he was so kind, so sweet…” She broke off and looked down at her hands, tears dripping from her face and spotting the blanket. “He was the only nice thing in that house of horrors.”
“You knew it was Seth when he came out of the house with Sarah after the siege?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “At the house Mark kept trying to tell everyone what was happening, but he couldn’t get his message through.”
Brodie thought of Mark shouting in the background when he’d been on the phone to Seth - Brodie, it’s not… Then he’d been cut off by Seth before he could tell him what was really going on. In the wake of the siege he’d thought about that a lot, hearing the words in his sleep, haunted by guilt because he hadn’t interpreted those words correctly.
“Seth gave Mark the phone when he was being held hostage in that house and he was telling Mum what was happening. He had no idea she was in on it,” she said, voice choked with tears. “She ignored him and told everyone he was Seth and he was going to shoot the hostages. She made the police shoot him dead and in turn she deserved to die,” she cried.
“It’s okay Lauren, settle down,” he said gently. “You need to take it easy with those injuries.”
She nodded and puffed out a breath, wiping her eyes on the backs of her hands. When she’d regained control of herself she continued with her story.
“Mark and Seth swapped places a lot when they were kids. They used to think it was funny, especially at school. They looked so alike but I could always tell the difference, it was in the eyes. Mark’s were so soft and gentle and Seth’s were always black and hard.”
“Did you know Seth and Sarah were having an affair?”
“I’d no idea, I thought they hated each other. I can’t believe it. Poor Mark,” she said, shaking her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. “He loved her so much, the evil, manipulative bitch.”
“Mark didn’t kill your dad, did he?”
“No.”
“It was you?”
“How did you know?”
“You’re the only one he would have taken the blame for.”
“I loved him and he loved me. It was always us against the rest of them. Mark was the only one in our family who wasn’t bad and they did that to him,” she said before bursting into noisy tears.
He took her hand and she gripped onto him hard.
“I’m so sorry for what happened to Mark. He didn’t deserve it,” he said.
“You caught Sarah and Seth, you made them pay.”
“They’ll pay for the rest of their lives. They’re never getting out of prison.”
“Good. I hate them both. I’ll be locked up forever too, that’s why I wanted to die.”
“You still have a future Lauren. You’ll get sent to hospital and you’ll get better. Then they’ll let you out.” There was no way she’d be put in prison with her history. He wasn’t sure they’d ever let her out either but he wanted to give her some hope, her own family had done this to her.
“You think so?” she said, eyes shining.
“I do, as long as you work hard at getting well again.”
“I will, I really will,” she said, nodding her head.
“Everyone who hurt you has gone. Now you can start living and doing things how you want. You’re just at the start of your life, not the end.”
“Will you visit me? Please say you will. I don’t have anyone else now Mark’s gone.”
“I will Lauren,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as reluctant as he felt.
“Thank you. They won’t give me Doctor Prosser again, will they?” she said, a little distraught.
“No Lauren. Doctor Prosser’s not working as a doctor anymore.”
“He’s not?” she said, looking more cheerful already.
“No. He had a little accident and he’s not well enough to work anymore. He won’t be a doctor ever again.”
“That’s good, that’s very good.”
“He wasn’t a nice man.”
“No. He was horrible,” she said quietly.
Prosser had disappeared a few days after Seth and Sarah were arrested. Strangely enough he’d turned up in Liverpool a week later, found wandering along a canal towpath, beaten and confused. He was also missing the tops of all his fingers up to the second joints. He wouldn’t be touching another traumatised woman again. He’d refused to say who’d done it and subsequently had a nervous breakdown. Currently he was residing in one of the mental hospitals he’d worked in. Brodie approved of what Tommy Shenka had done. That was real justice.
“Lauren, I need you to tell me exactly what happened today,” he coaxed. “The police won’t leave you alone until you’ve told your story.”
She wiped her palms across her eyes. “Yes. I’ll tell you anything Brodie, you know that.”
“Thank you Lauren. Would you mind if DS Clarke sat in to listen?”
“Do you think I should let him?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then.”
Brodie slowly got to his feet, being careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle her. He opened the door to find Cass and Clarke still talking quietly together, holding hands.
“She’s ready to talk,” he said a little gruffly.
Clarke excused himself to Cass then followed Brodie into Lauren’s room, shut the door and took the seat on the opposite side of the bed. “Hello Lauren, it’s me again,” he said in a friendly tone.
“Yes, I remember. Can we get this over with? I’m very tired.”
“I’m ready when you are,” he said, taking out a Dictaphone.
There were no surprises. Lauren’s tale progressed just as they’d already figured. She started the fire in the living room. By the time she went upstairs it was already raging. Maggie was asleep when Lauren entered her room. Maggie woke when she started tethering her arms to the bed frame with rope. Lauren was younger, stronger and fitter than her mother and easily pinned her down. Maggie lay there helplessly as the fire rushed up the stairs towards them. It turned out the house wasn’t very fireproof.
Brodie and Clarke glanced at each other with raised eyebrows as Lauren described her mother’s reaction to waking up and realising she was about to burn to death. She left nothing out of her graphic description of her screams and cries. All the while Lauren had sat in the chair by the window watching her mother slowly roast alive, waiting for the flames to consume her too.
“I didn’t realise it would hurt so much,” whispered Lauren, exhausted by talking. “I’ve burnt myself before and it didn’t hurt half as much as that. I saw the skin of my legs swell up and split open and stuff run out. I didn’t know it would be like that. I’m going to be scarred forever.” A dreamy look came into her eyes. “But the fire was so beautiful. Mum was screaming but I think she appreciated it. Have you ever seen a fire?” she asked Brodie. “I don’t mean a controlled one, I mean one that’s set free.”
“No Lauren, I can’t say that I have,” he replied, spine rippling w
ith unease.
“It’s a living thing with a mind of its own. It’ll go in one direction then suddenly change its mind and turn a different way. You’ve got to be so careful, it’s very unpredictable. I watched it creep its way towards Mum. I told her not to be frightened but she kept crying anyway, she never did listen to me,” she said bitterly.
“You did that to her for Mark and for letting your dad hurt you?” said Brodie, for Clarke’s benefit.
“I did and I’m not sorry. She knew what Sarah and Seth were going to do to Mark.”
“When did she know?” said Brodie.
“After you came round asking questions. Seth told her the whole thing. She went along with it because she was frightened of him, she knew he was like dad and that one day he might try to kill her.”
“Did your dad try to kill her?”
“No, although he threatened to so many times. It’s true what you said, every woman he killed was her, he hated her.”
“Why?”
“Because he hated all women, even me, even though I was only young. He didn’t think that we were human beings, just things to be used.”
Brodie leaned forward in his seat. “Did your dad’s parents abuse him?”
“I overheard Mum and Seth talking once. They said Grandma used to hurt Dad, hit him. They said he learnt his own bad behaviour from her. They stopped talking when they realised I was listening in and when I asked them about it they refused to tell me even though it involved my family. They always treated me like a child, I was sick of it.” She smiled grimly. “They can’t control me now. I showed them.”
“Did your dad ever mention the abuse?”
“No but he did keep telling us how much he hated his parents. It only confirmed what I already knew.”
“Did you ever see or speak to your grandparents?”
“No. Dad never allowed it. I never met them. They died and we didn’t even go to the funeral, even though Dad was dead.”
Anger twisted like a knot inside Brodie. Seth and Sarah had used Bryan Creegan’s parents as a smoke screen to keep him looking away from what was really going on. While he was chasing ghosts they’d been abducting and murdering women.
“Seth worshipped Dad, it didn’t matter to him that he kept hurting us all. Dad wanted Mum dead and she thought that one day Seth would kill her in his honour, so she did anything to keep him happy. Plus he said she could see Donna and Megan whenever she wanted, so she sacrificed Mark for herself and those two little brats. Seth said when they took Mark hostage they’d call her in so she could shout and yell and make it look like she was winding him up to shoot them. It was Seth’s way of putting Mark’s death on her shoulders.”
Unfinished Business Page 32