The Secret_An absolutely gripping psychological thriller

by K. L. Slater

  I need to keep my eyes on the car park, so I can’t read to pass the time. Movement catches my attention, but it’s just an elderly man I’ve seen before who I think lives on the ground floor. A couple of minutes later, a young woman drives into the car park, unstraps a baby from a car seat and walks towards the building.

  And that’s how it goes, getting busier as the afternoon wears on.

  I’ve been sitting there an hour and I’m finally thinking I need to move before my joints seize up again when I hear a loud thump from upstairs in Jenny’s flat. Raised voices follow.

  I seem to hear better here in the kitchen; maybe it’s the shared pipework or something. I can’t hear actual words, of course, but I can hear a man shouting and he sounds very, very angry. There’s another loud bang, and then everything goes quiet for a while.

  I hold the worktop and lean forward, stretching my aching back.

  Now I know more about the type of person Jenny is involved with, should I call the police? What if that final bang was Jenny hitting the floor because she’s dared to have a visitor up there? Maybe she’s told him about my concerns over James and he’s gone crazy. I’ll feel so bad if I’m to blame for making things worse for her.

  Then I remember her words earlier today: I think it’s best if you don’t come up any more. I’m not her keeper. She’s made it clear she wants me to butt out of her affairs.

  My stomach feels a bit delicate. I walk into the hallway just to make sure I locked the door, which of course I did. I can’t seem to stop Martyn’s face flashing in my mind.

  I nearly jump out of my skin when the doorbell rings. My feet freeze to the floor and I hardly dare breathe.

  ‘Alice? It’s me, Jenny!’ The bell rings again. ‘Alice? I know you’re in there… please let me in. I need your help.’

  She sounds desperate… scared, even.

  I don’t move.

  Now she’s knocking on the door, banging. ‘Alice, I beg you, please… open the door!’

  I can’t stand it any more. I can’t just leave her there. I unbolt and unlock the door and she’s there, head hanging.

  ‘You look terrible,’ I say. ‘I heard all the noise and—’

  She literally flies into me, knocking me to the floor and pressing a vile-smelling cloth to my face. I cry out as pain pulses through my body, so strong I think I’m going to pass out. I feel myself being flipped over and someone gripping me like iron, then something is being stuffed in my mouth. As I hear the door slam closed, I start to feel sick and drowsy…

  * * *

  When I open my eyes, it’s dark.

  I remember the cloth against my face and claw at it with one hand, but my nails scratch my mouth because there is no cloth there.

  My throat feels so sore, as if someone has scraped it with sandpaper. I try to cry out, but sound won’t come. I have to move… but that’s easier said than done.

  My right hip actually feels dislocated. I can’t sit up, so I crawl forward on my belly, like a snake, until I reach the kitchen door.

  After a short rest, I roll over onto my back and bend my knees. My head, back and legs are throbbing but I’m slowly managing to move. Using my legs as leverage, I inch my shoulders and upper back against the wall next to the kitchen door.

  The lights from the car park are providing a little illumination to the kitchen and hallway, but not much. At last I’m in a seated position and I close my eyes and allow myself a few deep breaths.

  I remember Jenny shouting outside the door. I can’t recall her exact words, but it was enough to make me think I should let her in after the noises I’d heard upstairs.

  When she flew at me, her face was pained, like mine when she hit me. She looked… odd… as if she was hurting too.

  I don’t remember anything much after that, just the feeling of darkness and losing control… and then I woke up. I haven’t a clue how much time has passed; I’m not wearing my watch.

  I open my eyes again and slowly, painfully, using the door frame as support, get myself up to standing.

  I head for the sink. Desperate for water, I down two glasses and fill a third. As I turn to walk away, I see a silver glint on the worktop. James’s phone.

  I snap on the light and look at it. I don’t remember leaving it out, but I’m glad Jenny didn’t take it.

  My head is banging, banging, the pain almost unbearable.

  And then the doorbell rings.

  I nearly collapse with fear. What if Jenny is back? She assaulted me, she’s crazy.

  It rings again and I step into the hallway. The bolts are off, of course, but it looks as though the catch is on, so it must have locked when she left.

  ‘Miss Fisher?’ A loud male voice. ‘Police. Open up, please.’

  I don’t know why, but I don’t doubt the voice. I slide the chain on and open the door. Two plain-clothes officers stand there, holding ID.

  ‘I’m DI Peters,’ the first one says. ‘And this is DS Khan. We’d like to come in, please, to discuss an allegation with you.’

  I glance at the ID and I’m satisfied it’s genuine. I open the door.

  ‘What’s all this about?’ I say, my voice croaky. ‘I’ve just been assaulted in my own home.’

  The detectives glance at each other.

  ‘Really? Have you reported it?’

  ‘No. I’ve just… I’ve only just come to.’ I know I’m not making any sense, so I decide to shut up for now. ‘Please, come through.’ Maybe one of the neighbours has reported a fracas; I don’t know if I shouted out or not, but perhaps someone heard something.

  I’m still holding my glass of water when we sit down in the lounge, but I don’t offer the detectives a drink. I don’t feel steady enough on my feet.

  ‘Miss Fisher, can you tell us if you know a man called James Wilson?’

  ‘Oh my goodness, have you found him? Is he OK?’ They look at me stony-faced.

  ‘Just answer the question, please.’ DS Khan frowns. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘I didn’t know him very well… I haven’t seen him for a while.’

  ‘Do you mind if I take a look around?’ DS Khan asks.

  ‘I suppose…’ I follow her with my eyes as she circles the room, picking things up, studying them.

  ‘We’ve had a missing person report filed this morning for a James Wilson by his father,’ DI Peters explains. ‘And we’ve reason to believe you may know of his whereabouts.’

  ‘I told you, I haven’t seen him for a while,’ I say, distracted by DS Khan leaving the room. ‘Where’s she going?’

  ‘She’s just taking a look around the rest of the flat.’

  ‘Well he’s not here, if that’s what you think!’

  ‘No, I don’t expect he is.’ DS Khan appears in the doorway again, holding something up. ‘But I believe this might be his phone.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  LOUISE

  After Alice’s arrest in connection with James’s disappearance, the detectives took her to the station. While she sat in that small, cold holding cell, so confused she’d forgotten what day it was, Louise sprang into action.

  She had a spare key for Alice’s apartment that her sister had given her years ago, in case there was an emergency with their mother. She’d never used it, always preferring to ring the bell for speed, but it had lived at the back of the kitchen drawer at home, where she occasionally set eyes on it. She retrieved it and drove to the flat with Archie in tow.

  ‘We need to look for clues about what happened so we can help Auntie Alice,’ she told him.

  ‘I’m brilliant at finding clues, Mum,’ Archie said. ‘I might be a forensic investigator when I grow up.’

  When they arrived, a couple of scene-of-crime officers were already in there.

  ‘This is my sister’s flat,’ Louise told the police officer at the door. ‘We’ve come to get her some spare clothing.’

  ‘Sorry, madam. This apartment has been declared a crime scene. You can gain entry when they�
��ve finished.’

  They were standing there in the corridor, not knowing whether to wait or come back later, when eagle-eyed Archie grabbed Louise’s arm.

  ‘Mum!’ he hissed. ‘I’ve just seen Jenny walk upstairs. She lives above Auntie Alice. She might know something.’

  Louise realised that the unreliable lifts she’d always hated had probably forced Alice’s neighbour to walk up to her apartment.

  They climbed the stairs and knocked at Jenny’s door.

  There was no answer at first, so Louise knocked again. After a few seconds, the door opened and Jenny’s face appeared, complete with guarded expression.

  She looked down and smiled when she saw Archie.

  ‘Hi, it’s Jenny, isn’t it?’ Louise held out her hand. ‘I’m Alice’s sister. Could I come in, just for a minute or two?’

  She wondered if it was her imagination or if Jenny’s face had hardened when she introduced herself.

  ‘How’s your nose now, Archie?’ Jenny asked pointedly.

  ‘Fine.’ He shrugged and turned to his mother. ‘She helped me when I had the nosebleed.’

  ‘You’d better come through,’ Jenny said, turning to walk down the short hallway that was a carbon copy of Alice’s. ‘My boyfriend Mark is here and we were just wondering what had happened.’

  Louise and Archie followed her towards the lounge and both stopped dead at the door, both their faces frozen in horror.

  ‘What the…’

  Darren jumped up from the sofa.

  ‘What the hell are you two doing here?’ he yelled.

  ‘I could ask you the same question,’ Louise said faintly, trying to keep her legs from buckling beneath her.

  ‘What’s wrong… Can someone please tell me what’s happening?’ Jenny said, her eyes wide and confused.

  ‘Your boyfriend is also my husband.’ Louise stared, the sound of her own voice surreal in her ears. ‘Except his name is Darren. Mark is his middle name.’

  ‘What?’ Jenny looked at him, her eyes wide and accusing. ‘Mark?’

  ‘You knew I was married,’ he frowned, ‘so don’t go acting all shocked now.’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t know Archie was your son! I didn’t know we were having an affair above your own sister-in-law’s bedroom!’

  Archie began to shake.

  Louise placed her hands on his shoulders and watched as he began to cry inconsolably, his eyes never leaving Darren’s. Her racing heart felt as if it would split any second.

  ‘You lied to me,’ Jenny whispered, her face drawn and pale. ‘You told me you were separated from your wife and you’d got no kids.’

  ‘Archie is his adopted son,’ Louise told her. She looked at Darren. ‘Forcing me to try and get Alice out of the flat to pay the debts you’ve run up… Threatening that you’ll get custody of Archie—’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Darren clenched his fists and stared at Jenny. ‘You’d better keep your mouth shut, bitch. You know what I’m talking about.’

  Archie stepped forward and spoke between sobs.

  ‘Auntie Alice says you should never be afraid to talk to someone, Jenny.’

  ‘Shut it, champ,’ Darren snapped.

  ‘I’m not your champ.’ Archie pulled up his sleeves. ‘He told me to keep a secret too, Mum.’

  Louise cried out at the bruises on Archie’s upper arm.

  ‘You little…’ Darren took a few strides forward and Archie yelped in fear as he ducked around his mother and ran from the flat.

  Darren grabbed hold of Louise’s arm.

  ‘Don’t touch me,’ she cried. ‘Let go!’

  ‘Get out you lying, cheating . . .’ Jenny picked up a lamp and cracked him hard on the back of the head with it. He roared, clutching his skull, then turned and pushed her so hard she flew across the room.

  Louise turned to run, but he grabbed her by the hair.

  ‘Get off me!’ she screamed. ‘I have to find Archie.’

  Suddenly the police officer from downstairs appeared with Archie at his side.

  Darren let go of Louise and backed off to the other side of the room.

  ‘You two, please take the child and wait outside the flat. Additional officers are on their way.’

  Louise and Jenny ran past him, Louise pulling Archie by the hand.

  ‘You did amazingly, Archie,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Now tell me, what did your dad ask you to keep a secret?’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  ARCHIE

  Me, Mum and Auntie Alice sit in the living room of her flat.

  The forensic officers have finished in here now. They were looking for evidence that James Wilson was here, but Auntie Alice says they won’t find any because he has never been to her home.

  They both sit staring into space and they don’t even drink the coffee that Mum has made for them. They look a bit dazed, like they’ve been near an explosion. If this was a computer game, it would be very boring and nobody would buy it.

  ‘How’s Archie?’ Auntie Alice says like Archie is another boy who is sitting right next to me.

  I don’t answer and Mum says, ‘I was so proud of him, finding the courage to speak out like he did.’

  They both turn and smile at me.

  ‘Mrs Booth says nobody has the right to keep anyone else silent if they want to share something… a secret,’ I say.

  ‘Mrs Booth is right,’ Auntie Alice says, looking at Mum. ‘I’m sorry, Louise, I thought you were the one hurting him, controlling him. Darren told me things, said your behaviour was erratic, that you couldn’t be trusted.’

  ‘All lies.’ Mum shakes her head sadly. ‘It’s OK, Archie, you can tell Auntie Alice what happened now.’

  They both look at me, their eyes boring into me like lasers. Maybe they can see inside my head and read my thoughts. Maybe they know that I—

  ‘Archie?’ Mum says.

  ‘When Mum was at a work conference, I saw Dad and Jenny kissing in his car,’ I say, looking away from them at the window. ‘I tried to sneak away but Dad saw me and came in the house after me.’

  ‘You hated Jenny on sight,’ Auntie Alice whispers. ‘But when she came to the flat, she didn’t seem to know who you were.’

  ‘Only Dad saw me watching that day.’ I shrug. ‘I ran back inside before she could see me.’

  ‘Tell Auntie Alice what your dad said,’ Mum says.

  ‘He said I had to keep quiet or he’d hurt me.’

  ‘Poor Archie.’ Tears spring into Auntie Alice’s eyes. ‘The burden he’s had to bear on his own. I can’t stand thinking about it.’

  Mum nods.

  ‘And the bruises I saw that day, Archie, who did that?’

  ‘Tell her,’ Mum says.

  ‘Dad,’ I whisper. ‘When I asked him if he was still seeing Jenny, he grabbed me really hard. Said that’s what he’d do to Mum if I said another word about it.’

  Mum clears her throat and smiles, but I can see she feels like crying.

  ‘School are aware and they say he’s like a different boy,’ she tells Auntie Alice. ‘Happier, friendlier to the other kids. He’s been under so much pressure and I blame myself for never realising it was connected to his dad.’

  ‘And Jenny… thank goodness she spoke out!’ Auntie Alice clutches her throat.

  ‘Why did you care so much about that man Dad hurt?’ I look at her. ‘You didn’t really know him, he wasn’t your boyfriend. He just went past on the tram each day.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Auntie Alice says. ‘But people can’t just go around hurting others, Archie. If you saw someone being hurt in the street, would you turn away and go about your business because you didn’t know them, or would you run for help? In certain situations, we all have a moral responsibility to do the right thing.’

  I turn her words over in my head for a moment.

  What she said feels true deep inside me, in the place that just knows if things are right or wrong.

  ‘Jenny was so angry,’ Mum says. ‘So, so an
gry that she was pregnant and Darren had lied through his teeth about everything. When the police got here, she just blurted it all out. Told them how Darren had strangled James to death and had attacked you here, in your own flat.’

  They both look at me then, like I’ve heard too much. But I’m not a baby. I’ve always known more than they think.

  ‘And they arrested him there and then, when Jenny told them the truth?’

  Mum nods again. ‘Predictably, he didn’t go quietly, but he’s got his comeuppance now, at least.’

  ‘And all those times you were trying to get me to sell the flat, it was for my benefit, not your own?’

  ‘He threatened to hurt you, and now I know he hurt Archie. He told me if I could persuade you to sell, he’d give me thirty grand of my share and a divorce. But if not, he’d never let us go.’ Mum glances at me and drops her voice as if I might not hear her. ‘He’d already tried to convince our neighbours to think of me as a drunk, a fraudster. He led friends and family to believe I was hurting Archie and had got us deep in debt…’

  ‘When it was him all the time,’ Auntie Alice adds.

  ‘From the moment we married, he was keen to formally adopt Archie. He wanted to prove that he thought of him as his real son.’ Mum looks at me and her face is sad. ‘I thought it was a sign of love, but it was the ultimate form of control. Soon as the official adoption papers came through, he ruled me with a rod of iron and threatened to get custody from me at every turn.’

  Tears roll down her face and I can’t help staring. It’s the first time I’ve seen Mum cry in years.

  ‘Archie used to sometimes refer to the secret in passing but I thought it was just kid’s stuff. I had so much on my mind, I stopped listening, and I feel so guilty now. Turns out his secret was real enough.’ Mum looks at me. ‘Sorry, pumpkin.’

  I try to smile and tell her it’s OK, but I can’t do it. Because this isn’t the only secret I’ve been keeping.

  There is another secret. One that is far, far worse.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Eighteen months earlier

  The door opposite the bathroom in Auntie Alice’s flat is ajar and I hear a noise coming from behind it. A sort of puffing, scratching sound.