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

Page 21

by Carolyn Mahony


  She resisted an urge to probe further. Instead she simply touched his arm gently before turning on her heels and heading back down the path.

  Adam watched her go, an unfathomable look on his face; then he closed the front door quietly behind her.

  ‘Who was that?’ his mother asked, coming into the hall.

  ‘Just a friend calling to see how we were.’

  His mother’s eyes were curious but she didn’t pursue the subject.

  ‘That was thoughtful of them. How about you sit with Kate for a bit now while I get lunch dished up? She says she’s not hungry but I’ve done toad in the hole. We’ll see if that changes her mind.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I don’t know how I’d cope without you.’

  Damn, he was in danger of breaking down completely.

  ‘You’d manage absolutely fine as you always do,’ his mother said prosaically, ‘but no point struggling along on your own when you don’t have to. She’ll come back Ad, I’m sure. And when she does …’ her usually good-natured face took on a firm expression, ‘you’ve got some sorting out to do. She needs to go back and see the psychiatrist at the hospital. The business with Katie isn’t going to go away overnight and if she can do that once …’

  ‘I know.’ Adam’s voice was terse. He didn’t need anyone telling him how serious Natasha’s behaviour towards Katie had been. It had been one of the reasons he hadn’t slept last night – the fear that Katie would be taken away from them and put into care.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Adam threw back the bedclothes and headed for the shower. He’d had another crap night driving around in treacherous weather conditions, looking for Natasha and calling on the few friends she had, to see if she’d taken refuge with them. Nothing. He hadn’t got to sleep until gone three o’clock and he felt like death. But he needed to get out there again – carry on looking until he found her. She’d been missing for nearly forty hours. Where the hell was she? How could she just disappear off the face of the earth like that?

  He stood under the shower, letting the warm water flow soothingly over him. When he was dressed, he poked his head around Katie’s bedroom door. ‘Ten minutes to breakfast, poppet. Do you want a hand with that?’

  She was sitting on her bed struggling with her shoes.

  ‘No.’ The little girl’s eyes were filled with determination. ‘I can do it myself, Daddy. An’ if I’m a good girl, Mummy will come back.’

  Adam’s heart twisted as he moved into the bedroom and sat down next to her. ‘It’s not because of you that Mummy left,’ he said, helping her with her buckle. ‘You mustn’t think that. Mummy’s not been well, poppet, and when people aren’t well they sometimes do silly things.’

  Katie looked up at him, her eyes filling up. ‘But she was cross with me. That’s why she left.’

  ‘Oh, Kate …’ Adam took his daughter in his arms and sat her on his knee. ‘It has nothing to do with you, sweetheart. She was just as cross with me. Do you think she left because of me?’

  ‘N …no.’

  ‘Exactly. She left because she’s not well. And when she comes back the doctor will make her better and everything will be fine again. You’ll see. Okay?’

  The little girl thought about it, then nodded and jumped off the bed. ‘Okay. Is Nanna still here?’

  ‘Yup. She’s downstairs in the kitchen getting breakfast ready.’

  ‘Goodee. She said I could have dippy eggs this morning.’

  Adam managed a smile as he jumped up off the bed and headed for the door, but his expression soon became weary again. Perhaps he shouldn't have done that – filled her with what may well turn out to be false hope. What if Natasha really had…?

  He refused to go there. They’d find her – or she’d come back. And when that happened, he’d make sure they tackled this depression thing together. Once and for all. It wouldn’t be easy with everything else that was going on, but then, he’d got used to life for him and Natasha not being easy. He’d just be grateful if they could get back to some semblance of normality.

  He walked down the stairs, the sound of the morning’s post coming through the door momentarily distracting him. He moved over to pick it up and walked into the kitchen where his mother was cooking breakfast.

  ‘What time did you say the police were coming?’ he asked, leafing through the mail.

  ‘Nine o’clock the Inspector said. I’ll take Katie to school. I can nip home after that and catch up on a few chores.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll head off again after breakfast…’

  He broke off abruptly, catching a breath at the sight of the familiar scrawling handwriting on one of the envelopes. ‘Excuse me a minute, Mum.’

  Without another word, he left the room and went into his study. Tearing the envelope open he started to read.

  God Adam, where to start?

  It’s taken me three days to get this letter right, and I feel so jumbled up in my head it still probably won’t make sense. But I don’t care anymore. I live in hourly dread of the police knocking on our door to arrest me and I can’t face that. So I want to set the record straight – for you mostly, but also for them.

  I guess the best thing is to go back to the beginning and there’s no easy way of telling you this, but Katie isn’t your daughter. I’m sorry – that will hurt you I know.

  I had a brief fling that last term of school with Zach Baker (the chap you met the other day). I didn’t mean for it to happen but I was lonely stuck away in boarding school. When I realised I was pregnant, I didn’t know what to do. I was back home by then and mum was just starting her treatment and was so ill. It just seemed easier to let you think the baby was yours.

  I hated being pregnant, and I hated giving birth but I was stunned by the love I felt for Kate – and when she died I was devastated.

  She’d been unwell for a couple of days and neither of us had had much sleep. I remember talking to you about it on the phone and you told me to call the doctor if I was worried ... but I wasn’t. The nurse at the clinic had seen her and said she just had a bit of a cold, it would pass. Only it didn’t, and one night she wouldn’t stop crying. I was so tired – I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in four days. I ended up picking her up and shaking her – not hard, I swear I didn’t shake her hard. I was so upset when the police said her arm was fractured. How could I have done that to her?

  She still didn’t stop screaming and I was in such a state myself that I knew I had to leave the room. I put her back in her cot and left her. Eventually she went quiet and I went to sleep.

  But in the morning when I went in she was lying so still. I knew she was dead straight away. I didn’t know what to do. I was so shocked. I wrapped her in her swaddle and just sat cuddling her for most of the day, wondering how I was going to explain myself. To you, to the police. I wanted to call you but I didn’t dare. I was terrified that if I did, the police would come and arrest me.

  I don’t remember much about that day but the next day I found myself down at the baby clinic watching the other mothers going in and out with their babies. I couldn’t believe what I was thinking. And then Hannah Walker came out. I’d seen her the week before at the clinic and I knew her baby was only a couple of weeks younger than Katie. I found myself following her home, and when she put her baby out in the garden it seemed like a sign. Then her partner came out and drove off and I knew if I was going to do anything I had to act quickly. So, I took the baby, put it in the carrycot in my car and drove home. It was as simple as that. Nobody suspected anything, not even you. I couldn’t believe how easily I got away with it.

  And that should have been the end of it, except that I couldn’t get it out of my head what I’d done to Katie and that she was there, in the garden. It’s why I had the affairs. No excuse, but sex and drugs both did it for me – helped me forget for a while.

  But then you found the grave and now everything’s caving in on me. It’s only a matter of time before I get found out and I can’t go through
all that. I’m sorry. Everything’s logged in my Journal. If you show that to the police, it will prove that you knew nothing of what I did.

  If they haven’t found me by the time you get this letter, get them to look near the woodcutter’s hut in the woods. We had some good times there in the early days, and I hope when all the fuss dies down, you’ll remember them sometimes.

  Tash x

  Adam clenched and re-clenched the letter in his hand, reeling from the shock. He could almost feel her presence in the room – this woman he’d spent the last seven years living with, who he didn’t know at all. Yet now it all made perfect sense, the pieces of the puzzle slotting finally into place.

  He didn’t know how long he stood there trying to absorb it all. So many emotions were rampaging through his head he didn’t know how to start prioritising them. Disbelief at what she’d revealed. Anger at her duplicity. Guilt that he’d let her down when she most needed him – and, most of all, pity, that she’d been forced to endure things no child should ever have to go through.

  The list was endless. But the one over-riding emotion that bypassed them all – slicing straight to his heart – was fear, and the certain, painful knowledge that he was about to lose his daughter. The shock of discovering she wasn’t biologically his was nothing compared to that.

  It left him facing an impossible dilemma. He knew what he should do, but for the first time in his life, duty seemed irrelevant, swept aside by a much stronger, more primal need – to keep what was his, close. How could he even contemplate giving her up?

  He barely registered the sound of the doorbell ringing, not until he heard the familiar tones he was beginning to fear would haunt him for the rest of his days.

  ‘Is Mr Campbell in? It’s DCI Murray. Sorry I’m a bit early … it’s not good news I’m afraid. We’ve found his wife.’

  Without giving himself time to reconsider, he slipped the letter carefully into his pocket and walked out into the hall.

  ‘Who found her?’ he asked a few minutes later when they were standing in the lounge.

  ‘A man walking his dog early this morning. Said he’d seen the car in the distance two days running and got curious so he wandered over to take a look.’

  ‘Did you ... see her yourself?’

  ‘Yes. If it’s any consolation, she looked very peaceful.’ He paused, allowing Adam some time before he said. ‘You’ll need to formally identify her, and there’ll be a post mortem I’m afraid.’

  Adam tried not to think about that. He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll come now, if that’s all right? No point putting it off.’

  ‘I’ll drive you. You've had a shock. One of my men can drop you back.’

  In the car, Murray switched on the radio.

  ‘Yes, well of course typically we don’t hear much from the police as to where they are with the investigation,’ a man was saying. ‘But I’d like to think that after the botched-up way they handled it last time, this time they’ll be more on the ball.’

  ‘And are they any nearer solving the mystery of who’s holding your daughter do you think, Mr. Short?

  Murray groaned out loud and went to turn the radio off.

  Adam’s heart flipped, the letter burning a hole in his pocket making him feel like an accomplice. ‘Do you mind leaving it on?’ he asked abruptly.

  Murray shrugged and left it.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Ben Short said. ‘But I’m older and wiser this time around and I won’t rest until she’s found. Unfortunately, Hannah’s struggling with it all emotionally. It’s rather taken its toll on her I’m afraid. But my future wife and I will do our best by Sophie if she’s found. She’s going to need a secure stable family life and I’m determined to see that she gets it.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Hannah let out a cry, staring at the letter in her hand in total shock. The writing was the same scrawling style as the last letter she’d received, and she read it over and over again, the words leaping out at her.

  “I took your baby when ours died. I’m sorry.

  Natasha Campbell.”

  That was all it said. Her hands were trembling so much the letter was visibly shaking. Even her legs were threatening to buckle under her. She collapsed down onto the sofa. Never ... never, could she have imagined this scenario.

  Her mind worked feverishly. Could it be true? Was that why Natasha had run away? Why was she telling her now?

  And Adam! Her thoughts switched to him in horror. Had he known? Had he got to know her just so they could keep a track of what was going on with the police investigation?

  She couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Yet … her expression hardened. How could he not have known? It was inconceivable that his wife could have done something like that without his knowledge.

  She sat there for an age, the thoughts crashing around in her head in a complete muddle. She could make no sense of any of them.

  But none of them were important, she realised, galvanised into action as she jumped up from her seat. What was important was that she could be about to find her daughter.

  Inspector Murray. She needed to talk to him straight away … tell him. She picked up the handset then slammed it down again, grabbing her coat instead. This was too important to do over the phone. A sensation lurched in her stomach – an indefinable cross between exhilaration and dread. Was she really about to find Sophie after all these years? She couldn’t believe it could be true.

  In the car, she heard Ben’s interview and her heart plummeted. She could see what he was doing and it terrified her. It shouldn’t be possible that he’d get custody of Sophie. Not with his history. Yet when it came to it, what did she have on him that she could uphold in a court? He’d hit her once according to official records and no doubt he’d argue that they’d both been under extreme stress over Sophie at the time. He was clever. He’d do whatever was needed to get custody of their daughter.

  And she was about to drop that opportunity right into his lap.

  ***

  ‘You bastard!’

  Before she could stop herself, Hannah launched herself at Adam in the police reception area, fists flying as she punched at him. She was shocked by her own rage. To think she’d trusted him. Even, she acknowledged, had feelings for him.

  ‘What the ...!’ Appalled Adam fended her off.

  ‘How could you do it? How could you take my baby?’

  ‘Miss Walker ... Miss Walker!’ Murray’s expression was stunned as he dived in to break them up. ‘What are you doing? What are you talking about?’

  ‘He stole my baby. It was him. I’ve got the proof here.’

  She thrust the letter in her hand at him, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had arisen.

  ‘He stole my baby ...’ she uttered brokenly, her face crumbling. ‘All these years...’

  Murray looked at the envelope she gave him in bemusement, then pulled out the letter and scanned its contents.

  His gaze swung to where Adam was still recovering from the shock of her attack, but now there was another expression in his eyes too, one Murray had seen often enough before.

  Guilt.

  ‘Harry, escort Mr Campbell to interview room one, will you? I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  He turned back to Hannah, but before he could say anything, she cried defiantly. ‘I’m not leaving until I know the truth.’

  His hesitation was barely perceptible.

  ‘Susie,’ he called out over his shoulder.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Take Miss Walker to my office, will you? Get her a drink of something if she wants it.’ He turned back to Hannah. ‘I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.’

  Adam found himself being escorted to a room on the next floor up. A single table with two chairs set either side of it identified it clearly as an official interview room. He looked around uneasily

  ‘Sit down there please, Mr Campbell. The Inspector won’t be long.’

  He’d never have imagined the
sergeant could sound so stern.

  ‘Look, I can explain …’

  ‘Not until Inspector Murray’s here please.’

  They sat in silence, during which time Adam tried to calm himself. He’d done nothing wrong, they had nothing on him. Only the fact that he’d concealed Natasha’s letter, and thank God, he had that.

  The door opened with a flourish and Inspector Murray walked in. He sat down next to his sergeant and faced Adam across the table.

  ‘I need to ask you some questions, Mr Campbell. You have a right to a solicitor if you want one?’

  Adam shook his head.

  Without preamble, Murray thrust the note Hannah had given him down on the table in front of Adam. ‘Is this your wife’s handwriting?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to explain it?’

  It took Adam no time at all to read the few simple words. ‘I know what it must look like, Inspector.’

  ‘Do you now? Well just for the sake of clarity I’ll tell you what it looks like. It looks like you and your wife have been stringing us along all this time, and I don’t like being strung along, Mr Campbell.’

  ‘I’ve done nothing of the sort. I knew nothing about any of this until this morning, just before you came to my house.’

  ‘This morning? It seems unlikely if you don’t mind me saying so. I find it hard to believe that your child could have died and your wife taken someone else’s baby without you being at the very least, a little suspicious?’

  ‘It happened while I was away at University. I was only coming back every couple of weeks. I swear to you I had no idea.’

  He rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out Natasha’s letter. It wouldn’t go down well that he’d concealed it but there wasn’t much he could do about that now.

  ‘This came this morning, just before you arrived. It’s a letter from my wife. I know I should have shown it to you straight away, but … I was so shocked I needed time to get my head around it.’

  Murray took the letter from him and scanned its contents in silence. When he’d finished reading, his eyes met Adam’s across the table. Suspicion was still evident, but when he spoke, his voice had lost some of its heat.

 

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