A Murder of Crows

by Ian Skewis

  ‘Not my family,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘Well, let me tell you that they were worried sick.’

  The twin satellites reappeared, holding his gaze in their steady axis. ‘I’m sorry,’ she wailed suddenly, and hid her face in her hands.

  Jack quickly fumbled for a box of tissues on the bedside table and placed them on the sheets in front of her. He watched as she blew her nose loudly, the noise grating on him. Deep down, he wanted to slap her face for putting everyone, including himself, through hell.

  ‘And what about Alistair? Did you go back to find him?’

  ‘Of course I did. I tried to phone him again and again. But there was nothing.’

  ‘Okay, I get that, but did you actually go back to look for him?’

  She remained tight-lipped.

  ‘You were the last person to see him alive so you’d better answer me or so help me god.’

  ‘Alive?’ she repeated. ‘What do you mean?’

  Jack felt his face flush and he quickly changed tact. ‘Look, Caroline, you’ve been staying here for several days now. Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you return home?’

  Caroline fingered the bed sheets nervously. ‘I don’t get on with my family,’ she said simply.

  Jack waited.

  She tried to stare him out, but Jack was in no mood, and finally Caroline shrugged and relented. ‘I knew the press were out there. I read about it in the papers. I saw them from the top of the hill when I was in the garden. I didn’t want to see anyone. I was upset. I just needed some peace and quiet.’

  ‘Somewhere to hide?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘My parents don’t hold me in high esteem. Nothing I ever do is good enough for them.’

  ‘But they were at their wits’ end,’ Jack insisted. ‘Your face has been plastered all over the papers, and on television – and I know for a fact that much of this was due to your parents’ concern over your well-being.’

  Caroline smiled cynically. ‘They only care about how this will affect their social standing.’

  Jack raised his eyebrows. She reminded him of his son: defiant and untrusting of the elders in her life. ‘So you were hiding here to punish them?’

  She thought for a second or two. ‘I knew they wouldn’t approve of Alistair. And they certainly won’t be happy about my pregnancy, so yes, I hid from them. But that’s not the reason I stayed here.’ She glanced up at him, her lower lip trembling.

  Jack forced a helpful smile. ‘Take your time,’ he said, though he didn’t mean it.

  ‘The day after the storm, it felt like I had been given a chance. It was like a new beginning for me. I did go back to the woods, but I stopped short of actually going in there because I got scared. I don’t know why. It seems so silly now. But that’s when it all changed for me. When I got back to the house, Alice’s house, her carer, Helen, was there at the gate. I told her what had happened and she said I could maybe take care of the garden for a few days. It would take my mind off things. I said we’d better ask Alice first. Helen said not to worry about that. And she was right. When I met Alice again she didn’t remember me from the previous evening.’

  Jack sat back a little. ‘So you mean to say that both you and Helen concocted a lie between you? You took advantage of Alice’s illness?’

  ‘No,’ Caroline replied quickly. ‘I mean, it was true that Alice needed help with the garden. And she did know who I was on some occasions. She knew I was Alistair’s girlfriend, most of the time. It depended on how her memory was from day to day. I guess I arrived at just the right moment.’ She smiled hopefully.

  Jack regarded her critically, as Caroline then bit her lip, realising how lame she must have sounded.

  ‘So, Helen knew about your circumstances?’

  Caroline nodded.

  ‘Let me be absolutely clear on this. You’re saying that Helen knew that you were officially missing and she withheld that evidence?’

  Caroline blushed. ‘Please don’t get her into trouble. It was my fault really. She saw the state I was in and took pity on me. Just as Alice had done the night before.’

  Jack watched as she lowered her sights again. He could tell from the way she kept her face covered that she was preparing to offer another revelation. Finally, she said, ‘Between you and me, Helen is a bit simple.’

  ‘She’s a trained nurse,’ replied Jack disbelievingly.

  Caroline looked up and smiled. ‘I know. But she’s lonely.’

  Jack folded his arms impatiently. ‘So are lots of people. It doesn’t make them simple.’

  ‘She confided to me once about it. She just wanted to take care of me, the way she does with Alice. It’s all she has in life, really. Please don’t blame her.’

  Jack let out a long, slow sigh.

  ‘I did help in the garden. You saw me,’ she said eagerly, like a child.

  ‘But you must have considered that everyone would be looking for you,’ remarked Jack incredulously.

  ‘Yes. But there’s something about living up there on that hill,’ she began, her gaze drifting dreamily up to the right. ‘It’s like nowhere else. You’re divorced from everything. Real life is down there somewhere, in the village. On the brae it’s so peaceful. There’s no press, no gossip. Nothing can hurt me up there.’

  Jack watched, a little crestfallen, as she started sobbing again. He gave her a moment to recover. As he sat there, he reminded himself that she seemed to be telling the truth, if the direction of her visual recall was anything to go by. Up and to the right means a true visual memory. Up and to the left means an imagined one. He observed her closely and wondered. ‘Caroline. What do you think has happened to Alistair?’

  Jack waited as she slowly lifted her head and peeled away the blonde hair that was clinging to her face. Her eyes met his. They were wide with fear, her pupils shrinking.

  ‘I don’t want to say.’

  ‘You must,’ replied Jack, quietly but firmly.

  ‘He’s the father of my child.’

  ‘Yes, I know that.’

  ‘I don’t want him to leave me,’ she said simply.

  Jack bit his lip thoughtfully, wondering if that was a euphemism.

  ‘There was another reason for wanting to stay there,’ she added, shifting slightly in her bed.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I knew Alice was his mother. And it felt good to be with her. I could pretend that nothing was wrong and that he had managed to introduce me to her after all. He wasn’t there, of course, but I could pretend.’

  Jack looked at her long and hard, finding her story difficult to believe. Yet her tale seemed so banal in places that a part of him wondered if it was true. If she is lying then it’s a pretty feeble one, he deduced. Jack reminded himself that she had displayed no tells, no signs of deceit. When it came to the feeling of tranquillity at the top of the brae, and the resulting desire to escape, he saw Rachel and he understood exactly what she meant.

  ‘Your reasons for remaining in hiding are not going to hold up well in a court of law,’ he explained quietly. ‘By making this decision to remain hidden in plain sight, as it were, you may also have implicated both Alice and Helen.’

  ‘Sometimes Alice forgets I’m there. I catch her looking upstairs, as if she’s trying to remember who else is staying with her. I don’t mean to scare her but it’s good that she forgets.’

  Jack clenched his jaw angrily. She’s not even listening to me now, he realised. Perhaps she received a blow to the head or something. She certainly seems traumatised. ‘What do you mean it’s good when she forgets?’

  ‘I’m not troubled by consequences when I’m up there. I’m a liberated woman.’ She stared unflinchingly at him.

  ‘Liberated,’ he repeated, smiling at her naïvety. You’ll be feeling quite the opposite if the prosecution have their way, he thought. As far as Jack was concerned, she wasn’t a woman yet. Old enough to give birth, he decided, but her emotional age
is stifled by words and phrases that she carefully selects in order to make herself sound more of a force to be reckoned with than she actually is. Her actions were passive aggressive too, he felt. He was certain that she was, to an extent, using the episode to punish her parents. But something about her story didn’t quite ring true. Something between the lines. What is she not telling me?

  ‘And what about Alistair?’ he asked. ‘You do realise that you must have vital information that could have helped us in our search days ago?’

  ‘I don’t think I do, to be honest. I’m as in the dark about this as anyone else.’ Then she added, ‘I’m a coward. I’m too scared to deal with whatever the outcome might be. You said I was the last person to see him alive. What did you mean by that?’

  Jack remained silent, wondering why she hadn’t seen the news in the papers. Maybe she’s being deliberately obtuse, blocking out the inevitable, he thought. It would explain her actions – her strange choice to remain hidden. Some people go mad not knowing if a loved one is alive or dead. Maybe she’s dealing with it as best she can in her vulnerable pregnant state. He reasoned that maybe she was more mature than he had previously thought and that in doubting her he had shown up his own quiet prejudice for what it was. Jack believed that he never gave women enough credit for anything. My wife would certainly testify to that, he thought with a knowing smile.

  He leaned closer to Caroline and said softly, ‘You are aware that there’s a distinct possibility that Alistair is—’

  Her raised forefinger prevented him from saying the obvious.

  Caroline then rubbed her finger cautiously across her lower lip and said, ‘I don’t want to have this baby if he’s gone for good.’

  Her euphemism is a thinly veiled one this time, he thought. And he began to consider what his next move would be when she said quietly, ‘Would you tell them that I’m pregnant?’

  Jack looked at her, confused. ‘Tell who?’

  ‘My family. I don’t have the heart to do it.’

  ‘I don’t think I should,’ replied Jack. ‘It’s better if it comes from you.’

  She touched his arm and looked right at him with her blue eyes wide and imploring. ‘Please.’

  Just then, an entourage arrived: a tall, red-headed, well-dressed woman in high heels that clacked loudly across the floor; a short, squat but sharp-suited man with receding dyed-black hair, who had difficulty keeping up with her; behind them a good-looking, dark-haired young man, who scowled at everything in sight.

  Caroline swallowed and attempted a smile. ‘Who needs enemies when you have families?’ she quipped, and sat up properly in her bed as they approached. Jack gave her a complicit smile and intercepted, standing between Caroline and her unwelcome relatives. Introducing himself and launching straight into his well-used phrase of ‘we’re doing everything we can’, Jack gently ushered the brood into another room, whilst Caroline got some extended reprieve.

  They were a funny lot, Jack thought afterwards. He noted that the parents were very polite and said all the right things, but, as is often the case, their eyes betrayed them.

  ‘I just want her home,’ the mother said anxiously.

  ‘Yes, she’s needed at home,’ added the father, as if Caroline was late for the all-important task of darning his socks or something.

  The brother remained silent, but it was plain to see from his folded arms and intolerant frown that he had already cast judgement on his sister and it wasn’t a favourable one. Every glance between each member of the family seemed loaded with doubt and condemnation. As Jack continued with his explanation of Caroline’s well-being, he noted the looks between them escalated and were now being exchanged faster than a game of catch.

  Jack concluded that Caroline was right after all, for it was painfully clear that they were far less concerned with their daughter’s welfare and rather more concerned with the damage her relationship with someone such as Alistair would do to their reputation, so much so that Jack decided to curtail his speech and get right to the meat. There was a part of him that actually relished the idea, and he was surprised at how quickly his mind had changed, that he now found himself fighting Caroline’s corner and wanting to defend her. He, too, felt like punishing them.

  ‘I also have permission from your daughter to inform you that she is pregnant.’

  Cue a mutual gasp from the parents and a look from the brother that could melt steel. It was obvious that they did not approve of either Caroline or her boyfriend. Nevertheless, after a startled pause, the mother conveyed her gratitude to Jack, who then informed her that Caroline was in very good hands and that the doctors would do everything they could to get her back to normal. ‘We will, of course, return her clothes to her after the forensics team has finished with them.’ This wrinkled the mother’s nose slightly, as if the reference to her daughter’s garments being inspected by a bunch of strangers implied something distasteful, an invasion of privacy perhaps. A curious thing happened next.

  The mother touched Jack’s arm and said hesitantly, ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes were wide and filled with tears. Her lower lip trembled.

  Jack didn’t believe her. It was a performance that had no doubt worked many times for her in the past, whenever she wanted to get her own way. She did seem to rule the roost, if the relative silence of her male counterparts was anything to go by. Her approach smacked of melodrama and seemed insincere. Suddenly, the entire episode was about her. As she reached into her handbag and pinched out a handkerchief, her two subordinates flanked her defensively. Jack lost his patience at such shallow demonstration and, as much to end the sorry episode as anything else, fell back into his official authoritarian voice and closed the exchange with, ‘It is also my duty to ensure that this and all other aspects of her physical and mental state are kept away from the prying eyes of the press.’ They all looked at him, as if offended, for it was clear that Jack was giving them orders. He then smiled reassuringly, equally as insincere as the mother’s performance.

  The family exchanged looks once more, and the mother gave Jack a bitter citrus smile – not too happy that Jack was having the last word. She flounced past him, and Jack sighed inwardly; his instructions were as much to save his own reputation as Caroline’s privacy. He needed a reliable witness and these were in very short supply. He watched the family leave, remembering the cow that had all but pushed him into the crap, and how much he disliked matriarchs.

  Still leaning against the police station corridor wall and feeling quite literally up against it, Jack’s doubts increased tenfold and he wondered how this mystery would resolve itself. His investigation had shifted back into an interminable cycle, going round and round, waiting to reboot and upload with vital new information. Never before had he felt so impotent.

  ‘We will need you to make an official statement when you get better,’ said Jack to Caroline. She looked at him oddly, almost haughtily, as if to say she was in no fit state. Shades of her mother, he thought. Disappointed that he now had nothing to pin on Scott, he reluctantly made his way back to the police station to question him.

  *

  Leaving the drama of the interview room behind him, he exited the station and went to his car, where his son was waiting for him. Jack drove off. He had no idea where he was going. He just knew he needed to get away for a bit. He was almost outside Hobbs Brae when his vehicle broke down and he was forced to call the rescue service.

  He waited for a while, but time seemed to drag by and he thought to return the phone call he’d taken in the station. It had been from Rachel. Her message had sounded urgent – something about Clements’s wife. Jack hadn’t really been listening and he had cut his wife off mid-sentence. He knew he would get an earful from her for that, so he decided against phoning her back. He wasn’t in the mood for yet more drama.

  Instead, he turned and said to his son, ‘Well, what next?’

  Jamie just stared back at him, unmoved by his father’s plight. Jack gave a little shrug, more in defence than
anything else, for he knew how his offspring blamed him for everything, and maybe he was right to. Jack had too many things on his mind and didn’t have the inclination for an argument. The minutes dragged by and he could feel his mood darkening. As a distraction, he looked outside and saw the clouds massing above him. He smiled ruefully.

  For the sky was darkening too.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  September 7th

  Matthew was returning to the scene of the crime.

  As he walked along the dirt track, his footsteps faltering, uncertain, he wondered how everything had got into such a mess. He recalled the landlady’s frightened face and how guilty he had felt. What am I playing at? What did I think I could achieve? It all seemed so stupid now, all his jealousy and subterfuge. But he had set the wheels in motion and now there was no going back.

  I did it all for Caroline, he concluded, as if that somehow made his criminal behaviour acceptable. He shamefully recalled the details. Following his ex in the car that night and checking into the hotel under an alias. Lying to the landlady, who so obviously had some sort of horrendous crush on him. Spying on the police as they carried out their investigation.

  And in the back of his mind there was the blood. Always the blood.

  He had figured the police might find his car sooner or later. He had parked it a short distance away from the Warm and Friendly so that passers-by might assume it belonged to someone further down the road, but a neighbour complained that it was blocking their driveway and the police intervened. He guessed that he had got off lightly up until then. The landlady was easily coerced and his alias had worked for a time. He kept a low profile, only venturing outside when he figured that most people would be at work and the streets were quiet. No one who lived there would recognise the scrawny kid with the nervous disposition from all those years ago – a fact that gave him some comfort.

  He recalled Caroline’s last words. It felt like he had been stung and the venom was now coursing through his veins. But there was no time to make amends now. He had to leave. But where would I go? he wondered desperately.