Cry From The Grave A Thrilling Psychological Crime Mystery (Harry Briscombe Book 1)

by Carolyn Mahony

  For a long moment, they stared at each other and he saw his own despair mirrored in her eyes. Then her brows snapped together. ‘Oh, for God’s sake pull yourself together. I’m the one in trouble, not you. You’ll be okay whatever the outcome. And by the way, your work mobile was ringing.’

  She turned and left him and Adam dragged himself up to find his phone.

  ‘I need to go up to Halls Farm,’ he said, walking back into the lounge a few minutes later, hauling his jacket on. ‘One of their cows is in labour and having problems and Tim’s on another emergency. Will you be all right if I go?’

  He felt guilty suggesting it, knowing that he should probably stay with her, be there for her. But what was the point? Nothing he said or did was ever right. And the truth of the matter was he needed some space to clear his head.

  She was sitting, legs hunched beneath her, gently rocking in her chair – her vacant expression fixed on the cartoons Katie was watching on the television screen. He frowned.

  ‘Tash? I can ask Jeanette to do the call if you’d rather?’

  She flipped out of her trance to look at him. ‘No, go. I’m fine. I’ll get supper under way.’

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Natasha waited until he’d gone, then settled Katie with a drink and biscuits in front of the television before heading upstairs to her bedroom. She really had no choice now. Her past was about to come out and there was nothing she could do to stop it. A feeling of inevitability swept through her. She didn’t want to have to face it. That was her choice, wasn’t it?

  Just briefly, she considered Katie and Adam. Their lives were going to be so messed up when all this came out. But there was nothing she could do to prevent it now. They’d get over it.

  Her mind felt a terrible jumble and she could feel herself slipping back into the terrible darkness of a couple of years ago. Where were her pills? She mustn’t let that happen.

  She remembered how yesterday she’d thrown a piece of plastic wrapping onto the fire and watched it shrivel up and disappear into nothing. She’d feared as she’d watched it that the same could happen to her, and nobody would even notice she’d gone.

  It was how she felt now.

  She reached for her tablets and took two. She couldn’t afford to lose the plot. Not now. She needed to plan.

  ***

  DCI Murray slammed the phone down. So that was a complete blind alley. Had Natasha Campbell known the aunt was dead?

  He went to the door and called Harry in. ‘Mrs Campbell’s aunt died last year,’ he said tersely, his expression reflecting his frustration. ‘Have you checked if there was a birth certificate?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘The office was closed. I’ll do it first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Remember to use her maiden name when they’re doing the search. And here, this is the aunt’s address in Ireland. Check her local GP surgeries while you’re at it – see if any of them have any records relating to the pregnancy. One of them should.’

  He moved back to his desk and opened an envelope someone had put in his priority tray. He stared at the piece of paper, dumbfounded.

  ‘Well, who’d have thought that?’ he said, showing the contents to Harry.

  Hannah Walker’s flat felt like a haven of normality when Murray dropped by on his way home that evening. There was a welcoming warmth to it that had been lacking before, which he realised was due to a change in décor.

  There was another woman sitting tucked snugly into a chair brandishing a glass of wine, and she smiled cautiously at the policeman as he refused Hannah’s offer of a seat.

  ‘I won’t be stopping, thanks, but I have some news for you, Miss Walker that I’d thought you’d want to know straight away.’ He glanced briefly at her companion. ‘You might prefer to discuss things more privately?’

  Hannah smiled, her expression the most relaxed he’d ever seen it. It seemed a pity that he was about to disturb the nice evening they were obviously having together.

  ‘No - it’s all right Inspector. This is my friend Jessica Dean. There’s not much she doesn’t know about me.’

  ‘Okay.’ He paused. ‘The fact of the matter is ... that hair sample you gave me ... it’s come back as a match to your DNA.’

  Hannah froze, her brain seemingly incapable of functioning, as she tried to absorb the significance of his words, not wanting to get the wrong end of the stick.

  Was he saying what she thought he was? That Sophie might be…?

  She hardly dared voice the question. ‘What ... what does that mean exactly?’

  ‘It means that your daughter’s alive,’ he said gently.

  He watched as the colour drained completely from her face. ‘What!’

  Her friend jumped up. She looked almost as shocked as Hannah did. ‘I’ll get you a glass of water, Han.’

  Hannah was staring at the Inspector as if her life depended on it. ‘Alive?’ she whispered, shakily. ‘Sophie’s alive? Are you sure?’

  ‘Unless you’ve had more than one child – then yes, we’re sure.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ For a moment, she simply stared at him, stunned. Then her face broke into a radiant smile.

  ‘I knew it,’ she cried. ‘I knew she wasn’t dead! Didn’t I always say so? But…but what does it mean? Where do we go from here?’

  Murray sighed, wishing he could be more positive for her. ‘It means your daughter’s alive. However, we’re still no nearer to knowing what happened to her, or where she’s living.’

  Her face fell.

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t be more encouraging. The truth of the matter is, those results have only just come through and I haven’t had a chance to think about what we do next. But now we know she’s alive, well, it’s a start, and I think there’ll be a strong case for getting the investigation reopened. It may not be me who deals with it though, and I have to warn you there’s not much to go on.’

  Hannah’s eyes were swimming. ‘Thank you – thank you so much for coming over to tell me yourself. I don’t know what to say, but ... it has to be good news, right?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he reassured her gently. ‘We’ll do our best to find her, I promise you.’

  ***

  After she’d phoned her mother and Jess had gone, Hannah picked up the phone again. It had to be done ... especially after last time when he’d been so angry not to have been kept in the loop.

  ‘I’m coming over,’ Ben said straight away, when she told him the news.

  ‘No. There’s no point.’

  But he’d already hung up. She looked at her watch. It was seven o’clock. It would take him about an hour. A knot tightened in her stomach – a long-forgotten sensation that was becoming all too familiar these days.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Natasha looked one more time around the cosy, familiar bedroom. There was nothing for her here – that’s how it felt. She was an alien trapped in a world that was at odds with what was going on in her head.

  But then wasn’t that how she’d always felt? A misfit, existing in a parallel world – so different to the reality of her own? No-one ever listened to her. Never had. They made her feel like an idiot, as if she was of no importance at all. And it was all very well Amanda saying she should trust Adam. She knew she should, but she just couldn’t. She didn’t trust anyone, and now it was too late to try even if she wanted to.

  Straightening her back, she stood up. Everything was in place. She’d left a note for Adam, propped up against her pillow.

  Now for the hardest bit. Saying goodbye to Katie. She did love Katie in her own way, she really did. It was just that she’d been second best and always would be.

  She exhaled fiercely. She wished she could shake off the terrible lethargy that seemed to have taken hold of her. She knew she was in a bad place mentally and that one call to the doctor was all it would take. But, what was the point? Nobody could help her now.

  Downstairs, Katie barely glanced up
as her mother walked into the lounge, and that annoyed Natasha. Didn’t she realise the significance of what was about to happen?

  ‘Kate?’ She tried to make her voice soft, loving; but the little girl took no notice, her eyes remaining glued to the television.

  Natasha felt her temper rising. Hadn’t she always known that her daughter didn’t like her? Didn’t love her like she did Adam?

  ‘Katie.’ This time her voice was sharp, demanding a response and Katie looked up.

  ‘Come here and give Mummy a cuddle.’

  ‘In a minute, Mummy. I’m watching Tom and Jerry.’ She turned back to the television screen, then looked up fearfully as Natasha stormed over to her.

  ‘Don’t tell me to wait a minute when I’m telling you to do something. I want to say goodbye to you. Mummy’s going away for a while.’

  She grabbed her daughter by the arm, yanking her to her feet.

  ‘Mummy … you’re hurting me.’

  Natasha’s grip tightened as she shook her. ‘Why do you always do this to me? You’d kiss Daddy goodbye if it was him, wouldn’t you? You’re a bad, wicked, little girl. You wouldn’t care if I wasn’t here anymore, would you? You’d be happy.’

  She was shaking her hard and Katie shrank back, struggling to free herself.

  ‘I want Daddy,’ she screamed. ‘Let me go. I hate you.’

  Somehow, she managed to break free of Natasha’s grip, running out of the door and up the stairs before Natasha even realised what was happening. Natasha went crashing after her, a blinding rage snapping in her head.

  ‘Come back here. Do you hear me? How dare you run away from me? How dare you say you hate me?’

  Ten minutes later she was driving recklessly down the drive, heedless of the treacherous snow swirling around her. Her body was shaking, her eyes a blurry mist as she skidded out onto the road. The rage in her head was beginning to subside, only to be replaced by a huge sense of remorse. It was a nightmare ... a nightmare. How could everything have gone so wrong? She hadn’t wanted to hurt her daughter. She only wanted to say goodbye – to have a cuddle so Katie would have nice memories of her. Katie had pushed her to it. She really had. And now this was something else the police would have against her. There really was no turning back now.

  She stopped at the end of her road, looking both ways. The snow was building up on her screen and she increased the wiper speed to clear it. If only it was as easy to clear the jumble that was her mind. Which way should she turn? She looked frantically from side to side. Where did you drive to when you were about to take your own life?

  The woods, she decided, trying to get a handle on herself. Perhaps near the old woodman’s shack where she and Adam used to picnic when they first met. It would be deserted in this weather, so it would be unlikely anyone would disturb her.

  But first, there was something she needed to do, and she’d go to Mario’s to do it.

  The coffee bar was warm and cosy, as always, and she stamped her feet on the mat, dislodging the snow before closing the door behind her.

  ‘Evening, gorgeous, you’re looking as lovely as ever.’ Mario’s warm Italian gaze slid over her appreciatively. ‘Do you want your usual?’

  For once, Natasha didn’t respond in kind to his flirtatious manner. Nodding her head distractedly, she made her way over to a small table in the corner and opened her bag. First, she pulled out the long, detailed, letter she’d written. Then she fished out the small notepad she’d put in and stared at it for a long time before slowly starting to write. It didn’t take long. In fact, it was only a couple of lines, but once she’d written them she knew an easing in her mind. Knew also there was no going back. She tried not to think about the bleak, isolated woods, waiting for her. She sipped unhurriedly from the chocolate Mocha that Mario had prepared for her, then rising from her seat, she left some money on the table and stepped out into the night.

  Half an hour later, she’d posted her letters and found her spot, a small car park near where she and Adam used to go, that was empty tonight, but would surely have walkers and their dogs frequent it during the day. She didn’t want to be missing indefinitely.

  She turned off the engine. She didn’t feel calm like she had done the last time, when she’d taken the pills. This time she felt agitated. She looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the piece of hosepipe sitting on the back seat. She wasn’t even sure how to do it, but she’d read something on the internet and she’d seen enough clips in films to work it out, she was sure.

  But, just to be on the safe side, she pulled her pills from her bag. The bottle was almost full – a cocktail of her medications that she’d been saving for weeks.

  Without giving herself time to think, she tipped them all into her mouth and reached for the water bottle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Adam knew something was wrong the moment he entered the house. It was eerily quiet and now he thought about it, he realised Natasha’s car hadn’t been parked in the drive.

  Still he found himself calling out her name.

  ‘Tash? Katie?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Natasha.’

  He walked swiftly through the house checking the ground floor before taking the stairs two at a time. In her bedroom, his heart plummeted when he saw the envelope propped against her pillow.

  Snatching it up, he tore it open.

  Dear Adam,

  I’m sure in the long term this letter can only come as a relief to you. I was never good news as far as you were concerned, or anyone else for that matter. As I’m sure you’ve realised, my past is about to catch up with me and I choose not to face up to it. This time, I promise, I’ll do it properly.

  Forgive me for the hurt I know I’m going to cause you.

  Natasha

  He stared at the letter, a cold fear gripping his heart. He should have stayed with her, got someone else to do his call-out. Why hadn’t he realised how bad she was?

  Then another fear struck him – so terrifying that it made his blood run cold.

  Katie. Where was she? She hadn’t taken her with her? Christ, she surely wouldn’t have done that?

  Throwing the note back down on the bed, he rushed out onto the landing to Katie’s bedroom. He flung the door open. The room was empty but his eyes widened in horror at the sight of the broken mirror and overturned chair; the little ornaments and knick-knacks usually so carefully arranged on her dressing table, that were now scattered all over the floor.

  ‘Katie,’ he roared.

  No answer.

  He tried to keep a handle on his fear as he searched every inch of the house. He couldn’t believe Natasha would have taken Katie with her. She wouldn’t, surely?

  It didn’t take him long to establish that neither of them were in the house. Without wasting any more time he grabbed the phone and dialled 999.

  ‘Can you get a message through to DCI Murray from Hertfordshire police?’ he asked the girl after she’d taken the details. ‘He knows our case and I’m sure he’d want to be informed.’

  ‘I can’t guarantee it, sir, but I’ll relay that request on. Someone will be around to take details off you soon.’

  ‘I won’t be here. I need to go out and look for them. This weather’s treacherous.’

  ‘I’m afraid I must ask you to stay put for a while. We’ll need more detailed information and it’ll make it easier and quicker for us to track them down if you’re there to supply it. We’ll get someone over to you as quickly as we can.’

  Hanging up, Adam quickly dialled his mother’s number. He had no intention of sitting around waiting for the police to turn up. His mother could supply any information they needed.

  ‘I’ll be over in ten minutes,’ she said straight away. ‘Why don’t you get some soup on and put it in a flask? If you find them they could probably do with it in this weather.’

  She was giving him something to do to occupy his mind he realised, but it calmed him going through the mundane task.

 
***

  Natasha worked swiftly and methodically in the freezing night air. It was snowing hard now and her fingers felt stiff and unwieldy as she forced them to do their work. It was a messy job as she tinkered around the exhaust – and she hated dirt, but finally, after what seemed an age, she had to be satisfied. She climbed back into the car and sat for a long moment with her head on the wheel.

  Why didn’t it feel right? Last time she’d been so high and divorced from reality that it had felt like a blessed escape. But this time she knew exactly what she was doing and it frightened her. Yet so much shit was about to hit the fan. What choice did she have? She’d never been good at facing up to stuff.

  She raised her head and pulled the mirror down to take one last look at herself. But all she saw was Katie’s terrified eyes staring back at her. She could still hear her daughter’s screams in her head from when she’d hit her.

  ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ she whispered, then flicked the mirror back up, rejecting the image of that haunted little face; closing her eyes and trying to replace it instead with Adam’s craggy, good natured smile – the sort he used to give her when they first got together.

  But it didn’t work. All she could see was him as he’d been the past few weeks; tense and resigned almost, as the final nails in the coffin that was their relationship had been ruthlessly hammered home.

  She tried to blame him for the situation she now found herself in. After all, if he hadn’t dug up those bones, she wouldn’t have got so stressed, wouldn’t have started taking more of the drugs that fed her depression, wouldn’t have started suffering again with the recurring nightmares that for a while she’d learnt to put behind her.

  But she couldn’t blame him, not really. It felt as if she’d been waiting for this moment all her life.

  She’d always known the truth would come out. And now it had. And in a strange way, she was glad. There was no need to live a lie any longer. And it was a blessed relief. Perhaps that was why she wasn’t so keen on ending everything this time. Because once the truth was out, that was surely the hardest bit?