Lethal Ties

by Christmas, Helen

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Joe,” he said. “It was self-defence and I doubt Schiller would be having any regrets if it had been the other way round. Now try to get some rest. You’ve had a very lucky escape.”

  “Rest?” Joe spluttered. “Are you kidding? It’s Maisie we should be worried about... I-I was desperate to try and reach her before this happened!”

  Mark shook his head as if struggling to make sense of it. “What are you talking about? I haven’t heard a peep out of Maisie.”

  “What?” Joe murmured under his breath. “Oh shit.”

  Clocking the confusion in Mark’s eyes, it seemed obvious not one of them knew the truth. He exhaled a shuddering breath, flinching at the tug of stitches. But shoving aside his pain, he swung his legs over the bed, determined to act before the worst happened.

  “We have got to get her out of that house,” he snarled. “Haven’t you lot sussed she’s in danger? I’ll go myself if I have to...”

  “You can’t,” Mark insisted, “you’re in no fit state to do anything right now, so why don’t you just leave us to handle this?”

  Joe clenched his teeth, fighting an urge to slap him. “It’s too fucking risky, that’s why. Surely you saw the text I got. If those bastards even get a whiff you’re onto ‘em, they’ll have no qualms about killing her.”

  “I did see it,” Mark gulped. “Officers did a thorough search but found no one. They concluded it must have been a bluff, just to throw you off the scent.”

  Joe dug his nails into his palms, the frustration in him soaring to boiling point.

  “Bollocks!” he retorted. “How would Mortimer know she was all alone if they weren’t watching her? We need to get to her now but without them knowing, ‘cos if they find out I’m still breathing...” he broke off with a shiver. “Any news of Sam? He was gonna drive down and protect her, but do you trust him? I know I don’t!”

  Mark turned to his colleague, braced by the door. “Do me a favour, Tony, and check this out, will you? See if you can get hold of Maisie and failing that, try Sam. Let’s see what he has to say about this. If anything.”

  ******

  Mark was beginning to feel the onset of panic. Even more so when a few minutes later, his colleague returned to the room white-faced. The only news he had to report was that Maisie had left work early to go home.

  “She’s not answering her phone,” he said, “and neither is Sam.”

  Joe turned to Mark, the dread in his expression growing more profound by the second.

  “That’s it,” he gasped, “there’s something going down at that place, and you can bet it involves Mortimer. Please, Mark! Call the guys at the Met if you have to and they’ll fill you in, but I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

  Mark swallowed. “They’ve already updated us. Confirmed what you said about Sam driving down to Sussex...”

  With his words trailing off, however, he felt an icy chill crawl right through him; a growing suspicion he had never had the chance to voice until now.

  “What is it about Sam you haven’t told us, Joe?”

  The next time Joe stared at him, he saw the fear in his eyes.

  “I’m worried he moved her into that house to isolate her, but I haven’t figured out why. She could be in there, unprotected, and left to chance, anything could happen. Do you really wanna take that chance?”

  Absorbing his words, Mark was rocked by another wave of panic.

  He had always wondered about Sam, and was intrigued to hear Joe’s view, having never forgotten their reunion in Charing Cross Police Station.

  Joe had been gawking at Sam’s i-Phone, almost oblivious to him sauntering by his side. Mark caught a glint in Sam’s eye, lit with cruelty. It passed in a flash - perhaps he was the only one who felt a shiver roll over him, but it was there - that tiny flicker on Sam’s lips, and with it a smirk that had left him cold.

  As Harold often cautioned, though, police investigations had to be based on more than just a hunch.

  Mark frowned. He could not see how they would ensure Maisie’s safety without giving the game away. But looking at Joe now, he felt a wave of understanding pass between them; that whatever they decided, he was going to sneak his way out of this hospital to save her. With or without their help.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Tears filled my eyes, the lights on the wall blurring into surreal shapes as the words of my tormenter sank in.

  Words that changed everything.

  “Duncan,” I echoed in horror. “Duncan, as in Sam’s half-brother?”

  I so badly wanted this to be a dream, but knew the man pacing around me was no illusion. He was very real. A man I had fallen in love with, and he had transformed into my enemy.

  “So for all this time, you’ve been spinning a lie.”

  His face turned stony. “Not all of it was a lie. Sam was adopted by his father, and brought up to Scotland. You saw the photo of Galbraith Castle, home to the McFadden family. I showed you at the police station, remember? Sam was in that photo, and exactly as you remembered him.”

  “Yes, I remember,” I whispered.

  “Sam, my annoying little screwed-up half-brother,” he sneered. “The boy I was forced to look after and watch like a fucking hawk...”

  Staring at him spellbound, I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

  “It’s like I said all along, I had no choice. ‘If anything went tits up, Duncan took the flack’ and boy, did I suffer. That story about him sneaking into the garden for example. I was the one Father grabbed by the throat. It was my head he bashed against the wall. I wasn’t lying about Hogmanay, either. I missed out on the best celebration of the year because of that little prick.”

  “Maybe you should have stood up to your father,” I replied in my naivety.

  “Yeah, I could have done,” he nodded, “but on the other hand, I had far more to lose by not following his instructions.”

  “You were scared of him, weren’t you?” I tried to empathise.

  His eyes gleamed in the shadows. “Not scared. I was in awe of him. He drew me into a secret pact, you see. He promised me that if I spent the next years getting to know Sam and learning everything there was to know about him, I would be richly rewarded. As his heir and successor, I couldn’t really wish for more.”

  “I don’t get it. Why assign you to be Sam’s minder if you hated him?”

  “Ah, I thought you’d ask that,” he said, “but this is where it gets complicated. So allow me to explain the true reason the respectable Alistair McFadden QC rescued his bastard son. It all goes back to Cornelius Mortimer. The sad fact of the matter is, Sam knew too much...”

  “The party,” I shivered. “Does this mean everything you said he witnessed was true?”

  “That’s right! I wasn’t lying when I gave my statement to the police, only the story I fed them was Sam’s story. He was so traumatised. But once I’d gained his trust, he told me everything, from Joe being drugged, to the punch he spat out. But do you want to hear the most scandalous part? The satanic ritual he witnessed was real enough, but it wasn’t Lord Parker-Smythe in the background... It was our father!”

  Every muscle in my body froze.

  “Your father?” I gulped. “So the politician was innocent?”

  Duncan shrugged. “Someone had to take the fall. According to Cornelius, he broke his promise about funding. Got suspicious, until eventually they fell out. Cornelius swore revenge, but that’s another story. The closure of the homes was never really down to lack of funding, but a lot to do with what Sam witnessed.”

  “So for all this time you conned us into thinking your father tried to stop the ritual when the truth is he was a participant!”

  “Yes.”

  A surge of terror shuddered down my spine. Sam had always maligned his father, but not once did I imagine anything of this barbarity.

  “When Cornelius formed his cult, Hooded Shadows, it was bound to attract men like my father. The highest asce
nsion of power, something that not only violated every written rule but enabled men in authority to cross the barriers of morality. Like drugging and raping children. They thought they were above the law.”

  Holding my gaze, he exhaled a pitiful sigh.

  “He aspired to the role of High Priest, you know. The man at the top. The Great One. Yet that party could have destroyed him. The instant he recognised his son lying there, he panicked. He had to stop the ritual, in case Sam recognised him too.”

  “That’s horrible,” I shivered, “although I never doubted your story.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you did - and those nightmares of yours backed it up very nicely - another nail in the coffin for Thomas.”

  I shook my head, fighting to bury my contempt. How dare he mention my nightmares, given the hell he was putting me though now.

  “Anyway, going back to that night, Father had to act fast before Sam started bleating, and as a judge he had contacts. Enough to persuade the authorities Sam was better out of care, especially with the protection of his real family. Christ knows how he did it but within a few hours, the police had turned up to collect him, and you already know the rest. I spoke the truth about Sam’s isolation but you must understand why we had to do that - sever his connections from his friends – more specifically, you and Joe.”

  “Joe...” I choked. Tears sprung to my eyes at the mere mention of him, but I saw not one flicker of compassion in return.

  “Joe was the biggest pain in the arse out of the lot of you, as far as Cornelius was concerned,” he snapped, “but the day after that party he was bricking it.”

  A tear rolled down my face, the horror of Joe’s fate magnifying the pain.

  “It makes sense now,” I blubbered. “Mr. Mortimer was so threatening towards him. He said you’d been adopted but something didn’t tally. Just thank God he ran away when he did...”

  Taking a step back to observe me, he tilted his head to one side.

  “Yes, well now you know why, because he’s the reason Cornelius had to close Orchard Grange. Joe bloody Winterton! Couldn’t keep his trap shut, could he? Forever taunting him about Sam, insinuating he might have been killed. Okay, I don’t blame him for running away, I’d have done the same, but consider the consequences for Cornelius. He saw Joe as the ultimate whistle blower, never knowing when he’d start shooting off his big mouth. So he shut the place down. Got rid of them all, chose a new direction in life and fucked off abroad. But he swore to my father he’d hunt Joe down and deal with him...” A look of loathing narrowed his eyes. “The only problem is it took a little longer than expected.”

  “Don’t!” I gasped, struggling against my restraints. “Please... stop torturing me! I can’t bear to imagine Joe dead.”

  “But I haven’t finished,” Duncan goaded, “there’s more. You see, it wasn’t just Cornelius who had to cover his tracks, but my father. He thought he was on top of his game when those boys were returned to the homes, unharmed. Quick to ‘rescue’ Sam and invite him into the family fold - convinced that once Sam was spirited up to the Scottish Highlands, people would forget him... but there had to be procedures and paperwork, which is where that sodding social worker got involved.”

  “Oh no,” I whispered. “You’re talking about Yvonne Draper, aren’t you?”

  “Yvonne Draper was a problem he never expected,” he said brutally. “He’d guessed Sam would be traumatised after what he witnessed. He just never considered the possibility he would blurt it all out to his social worker.”

  “But she kept quiet,” I argued. “Another thing Joe couldn’t understand.”

  “Ah, Joe, always the curious one. I suppose he wondered why she didn’t report it?”

  “Did your father put the frighteners on her?” I challenged him. A lump tightened my throat, but I had to ask.

  “Too bloody right he did!” he replied. “Sam’s account was everything he feared, so he had to nip it in the bud before word got out, and yes, there was a cover up! He warned the Draper woman that if ever she repeated a word of what Sam had said, her family would suffer big time. He wasn’t just protecting himself, but Cornelius. Anything to avoid a scandal, and for a while, it paid off. A secret they suppressed for years.”

  A dangerous tone had crept into his voice but as the threads kept unravelling, I hankered to know more.

  “So she didn’t dare speak the truth...” My words came out as a whisper. “Even when the investigation was underway.”

  “Oh yeah, the investigation,” Duncan muttered. “Shame she had to die, but when the cops cranked up the pressure, the last thing we needed was her falling apart. You were sat in the pub when I contacted DI Fitzpatrick to arrange an interview.”

  “I remember,” I said numbly, “and did you?”

  “Of course! I did whatever it took to throw Joe off the scent, but what you didn’t see was my text to Cornelius. Joe’s phone might be bugged but I had to be sure Cornelius knew what I was about to do. He was clever to arrange her death so speedily. Or rather, Schiller was.”

  “Schiller,” I breathed. My fear turned to hatred as I glared at him. “Christ, how many people have died to protect your father and that pervert, Mortimer?”

  “Does it matter?”

  The chill in his eyes unnerved me, but I had nothing more to lose. “It does to me! And what about you? What was your role in all this? You mentioned a pact...”

  “I’m glad you asked, because the answer brings us full circle, so to speak. So let’s rewind a little and go back a few years. Back to the time Sam lived with us. My father ordered me to be in charge of him, as you know, but there was a little more to it than that. I had to watch him, observe his behaviour, listen to his stories until I knew them off by heart. He said plenty about his mother, but I was more interested in his life at Orchard Grange. His friendship with you and Joe...”

  “So that’s how you knew so much about us.”

  “Yes,” he said, “and I meant it when I said how grateful Sam was for Joe’s protection. That story about having his head forced down the bog, that did amuse me, and as for Joe’s face when I repeated it! I had a feeling he’d want to test me, though I was particularly intrigued to hear how much Sam adored you, Maisie. In fact, I think he was in love with you, and that proved to be of even greater value!”

  “I see,” I murmured. A thread of tension drew the atmosphere taut as the impact of his words hit home. “So for all the years Sam was isolated in your castle, you were planning to impersonate him? I don’t understand...”

  “No, I don’t suppose you do, but you will. This entire charade has had far reaching consequences. I wasn’t just in charge of Sam, see, I had to copy his behaviour, learn everything about him and ultimately be him.”

  “But why?” I whimpered. My wrists burned as I tugged against the cords again, helpless.

  “It was all part of an ingenious strategy devised by Cornelius,” he said, “and my father went along with it. Sam was contained, but they were never going to be safe with you and Joe walking free. So he kept an eye on you, especially you, because you were the one thing he desired more than anything, a girl so special, he wanted to save you for his final ritual...”

  “What?” Suddenly it was hard to focus as a wave of panic swept over me.

  “Call it ‘unfinished business.’ From the day you were fostered, he had you in his sights, but perhaps it’s better to let him tell you about that. All I understood is they needed Sam to get to you, and I was perfectly placed to play the role...”

  Pausing for effect, he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “See this? I even had his fucking scar carved into my forehead, another wound my father inflicted to carry out his master plan!”

  “So where is Sam now?” I dared to whisper.

  The silence hung between us like fog. I held my breath, waiting for him to divulge the truth, though deep down I already knew.

  “Where do you think?” he said, his voice a shard of ice. “Corneliu
s was in it for the long game, and by the time Sam reached his fourteenth birthday, we’d extracted every little drop of information we needed. He was of no further use.”

  “You killed him, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” Duncan gloated. “My father had no qualms but it had to be me. I was the only one Sam trusted, so imagine his feelings the day I invited him to come on a hike with me. He was ecstatic! I knew exactly where to take him. Following the path from the grounds, we ventured into the mountains, and he loved it! All those years cooped up and finally he was out in the fresh air, seeing the views. The best were at the top, and when we finally reached the vantage point we were over three thousand feet up. I dared him to look over the edge, and smiled one last smile at the whining brat, sure that the best day of my life would be the day I ended his.”

  I blinked, unable to fathom his expression. With flickers of light reflected in his gleaming eyes, he looked as triumphant as he did dangerous.

  “At least he died happy,” he added softly. “Goodbye little brother I said, and one hard shove sent him toppling over the edge.”

  “How can you say that and smile?” I cried out but as the tears started flowing, I recalled every devious trick he had used to woo me.

  The drive in the countryside, this house... Sam, Joe and now me. Oh, how cleverly we had been reeled in by his lies.

  “You’re a monster,” I shuddered. “No wonder Joe couldn’t warm to you. You stand there, boasting about your brother’s murder, when all the while you were impersonating him to lay a trap? And I thought you loved me!”

  “It wasn’t easy,” he responded. “There were times I felt so stressed, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. Keeping you happy, while hopping backwards and forwards to indulge Cornelius’s every whim. It was tearing me apart, but he’s the one calling the shots here...”

  “You’re as evil as he is,” I choked through my tears, “and to think, this was all for Mortimer?”

  “All for Mortimer,” he repeated coldly, “but it was his dying wish. He’s terminally ill now, so what can I do? If it’s any consolation, I am sorry.”