‘They left her head in a box!’
‘What?’
‘Some fucking bastard left a box by the gate with her head in it! You said I could go home, so I brought the kids back this evening.’
‘I said wait till I’d spoken to Uniform.’ Jessie was trying not to shout as she ran out of the tent.
‘The kids were unsettled enough.’
‘Are you sure –’
‘I don’t know! I heard a noise. I’m feeling a little paranoid at the moment about the boys. Maybe it’s the drugs I used to take, or maybe it’s because my wife was DIPPED IN ACID!’
‘Calm down, you’ll wake the boys.’
‘I mean, what kind of cunt would do a thing like that? What if Paul had found it? He’d be in a loony bin. It makes me feel sick thinking about it.’
‘Someone knows you’re home.’
‘No shit! That pig’s blood somebody threw at the gate, and all the other fucking things – those letters, death threats … What if they weren’t cranks? What if this really is about Verity and me and Eve –’
‘What do you mean, you and Eve?’
‘What if they’re after the boys? Help me, please. If anything happened to them … Jesus, I’m going out of my mind. Whoever’s doing this is fucking sick!’
‘Calm down. I’ll come and get you.’
‘I’m not taking the boys back to that safe house. Some car keeps driving past during the night. They know. Somehow they know. I’ve had stuff through the letter box.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I don’t want to live like this. Scared all the fucking time.’ He was crying. Jessie could hear it down the phone.
‘P.J., I need you to do a few things. Do you trust me?’
Jessie heard his breath whistle down the phone. ‘Yes. Jesus Christ –’
‘Stop it. Get the boys out of bed, throw some jeans and sweatshirts into a bag – enough for a week or so, warm clothes. I’ll be with you in half an hour.’
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to lose it.’
‘It’s okay. I’m coming.’
She put her phone back in her bag and waved at Maggie to come and join her.
‘Not a word to anyone, Maggie.’
‘My lips are sealed. Are you going?’
Protect what you care about, said Ray St Giles. ‘I have to. Those boys could be in serious danger.’
Joshua walked towards her. A bottle of Grey Goose in his hand. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, looking at her coat.
‘I’m sorry.’
He whispered in her ear. ‘I embarrassed you –’
‘It was nothing to do with that. But I have to go.’
He looked at her rather desperately. ‘Can I call you?’
Yes. No. ‘Give your number to Maggie.’
Maggie slipped her arm through Joshua’s. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ll look after him.’
CHAPTER 54
It was too dark. Too dark and too quiet. Tarek stopped for the second time. He was nearly at the end of the long subway. One more corner, a flight of shallow stairs, and he would be back out into the world of the living. Underfoot he felt the broken glass. He looked up to the curved roof of the subway and stared into the gloom where the fizzing orange light should have been. A sabotaged light was the same as a convenient death, the same as an altered lock. Something was not right. He would never know exactly what made him turn and run, but, as he did so, he could have sworn he felt something swoop past his ear.
CHAPTER 55
Jessie watched the patrol car move off, taking the skull with it. Only one other vehicle had been by, an empty mini cab. It was almost dawn; those who were going home had gone and those who weren’t would wait until the morning smacked them in the face. Jessie walked up the granite driveway to the house. She followed the noise past Eve Wirrel’s installation to the kitchen.
‘Hi, Jessie, we’re packing provisions. Sausage rolls, cheese slices, and jam tarts, because you like them,’ said Paul, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Ty.
‘On a road trip,’ said Jessie.
‘Let me take your coat.’
‘Thanks.’
Her thick cashmere coat slid over her shoulders and she remembered a moment too late that she was still in the backless Armani dress. She turned to P.J. to explain and caught his eyes sweeping back up to meet hers.
‘Wow!’ said Ty. ‘Someone’s cut a hole in your dress.’
Jessie laughed.
P.J. looked delighted.
‘I think it’s pretty,’ said Paul.
‘So do I,’ said P.J.
‘Can I see the sparkly bits?’ said Ty.
‘Of course you can. Come here, I’ll lift you up.’
Paul and P.J. watched Ty walk slowly over to Jessie. He looked pensive for a while, then stretched out his arms. Jessie lifted the five-year-old with ease.
‘Like stars,’ he said, then lay his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Paul giggled.
‘Why don’t you put that tea in a flask, and we’ll set off now,’ said Jessie quietly.
P.J. nodded, but continued to look at Ty.
‘Amazing.’ He looked at her, a grateful smile on his face. ‘Can you manage?’ he asked.
‘Easy. But I might need a sweatshirt for the journey.’
‘Paul, go to my room, find some clothes for Jessie and bring them down.’
‘What about Mummy’s?’
‘I wouldn’t want Ty to wake up and see me in your mother’s clothes. He might get a bit spooked.’
Paul nodded seriously. ‘Good thinking, Batman.’ Then he ran out.
‘Sorry I rang you in the middle of a party. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.’
‘No. Nothing at all. I was on my way home anyway … Where are Craig and Bernie?’
‘In a hotel. Craig didn’t want to come back here. They have nothing to do with this.’
‘You’ll have to let me be the judge of that.’
‘Are you a good judge?’
Maybe not, she thought. ‘I’m not judgemental, if that’s what you mean. It was me who told you about Craig and Verity, remember. I told you he’d need looking after.’
‘You were right.’
‘So that should answer your question.’
Ty squirmed in Jessie’s arms, opened his eyes once, looked at Jessie, then closed them again.
‘It’s quite a long drive,’ whispered Jessie, ‘so of your fleet of cars, you should pick the most comfy. And it’ll need to be one that can take the odd bumpy road.’
‘So not the Porsche?’ P.J. whispered back.
Jessie shook her head.
‘Aston Martin?’
‘Now you’re showing off.’
He smiled. It was nice to see. ‘I know, the Bentley Turbo.’
‘Vulgar. Truly vulgar.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got just the vehicle.’ He laughed softly, then looked at her. ‘I am so grateful you are here. I don’t think I’ve been so terrified in my life.’ He stepped towards her.
She was glad she had Ty in her arms. A buffer zone. ‘We should get going.’
Jessie was curled up in the enormous seat of the Hummer. The NavSat was leading P.J. ever northwards, while she retreated into herself. The boys had watched ten minutes of Toy Story on the DVD system, then fallen asleep. She had been trying to follow suit, but every jolt of the car reminded her who she was with and where she was taking him.
‘I know I’m prickly,’ said P.J.
Jessie kept her eyes closed.
‘Bernie and Craig, they mean a lot to me. I guess I’m over-protective.’ He paused. ‘They’re like family. Bernie’s been through a lot. We lived on a rough estate in outer Manchester. It was shit, especially for girls. At least we had football, rugby … She was my sister’s best friend.’
Jessie opened her eyes but didn’t move.
‘My sister drowned.’
Jes
sie waited.
‘It happened a long time ago, but it still feels like yesterday. No one talks about her and the press know better than to mention her in a piece. Julie was thirteen when she died; she and Bernie were playing by the estuary. My sister waded out a bit too far and was pulled out by the tide, unfortunately she –’
‘– couldn’t swim,’ said Jessie quietly.
He looked at her briefly. ‘How did you know?’
Jessie sat up. ‘You said it once, when you were upset. I thought you might have been talking about Bernie.’
‘Bernie couldn’t swim either. She’s still terrified of water. I offered her lessons but she refused. I don’t blame her.’
Jessie thought of the punt in the river and the pool at P.J.’s house. Phobias had made convincing alibis before.
‘What happened?’
‘Bernie ran to get help, but by the time we got there my sister had disappeared. I looked for hours. Until I was blue from the cold. They never found the body. Bernie became a surrogate sister to me. She was all I had. My family weren’t very …’ He rubbed his face. ‘We lost touch for a few years. I went to America and things took off for me. When we met again, she needed a job to support Craig, I needed a housekeeper, and she was prepared to do the work. She is proud, despite everything.’
‘And what does she think of Craig and Verity?’
‘She’s upset, but not for the reasons you’d think. She’s not angry with Craig, he’s a kid still, and as you said, he is very, very upset. I’ve sent them to a retreat in the Swiss mountains.’
‘You said they were at a hotel.’
‘It is a hotel. It’s just there are people there he can talk to. It’s sort of like a bereavement centre with activities and therapy.’
‘In Switzerland! They shouldn’t have left the country, P.J., and you know it. We are in the middle of a murder investigation here.’
‘I’m sorry. I was trying to look after them, that’s all. You can’t possibly think that Bernie is involved. I know her, she couldn’t have done those things, and neither could Craig.’
‘Verity was sleeping with her son. A seventeen-year-old boy. Two years older than Bernie was when she got pregnant.’
‘That has got nothing to do with it,’ he said angrily.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because I know her better than I know myself. She no more killed Verity than Ty did. Bernie is a sweet, loving, caring, beautiful woman who is so good, she puts the rest of us to shame.’
Jessie wanted to know how deep these feelings went. Did P.J. really love her like a sister, or was there more to it? She suspected there was. ‘What is the history between you two?’
‘I’ve just told you. Isn’t that enough?’
‘I think you’re holding something back from me.’
‘That’s it!’
‘You want to tell me about Craig’s father?’
He stared at her, then turned back to the road ahead. ‘We need petrol,’ he said, and turned off the motorway. P.J. jumped out of the car, lit a Marlboro Light and, hunched against the cold, walked away.
A giant blood-orange sun hovered above Lake Ullswater. The bare barks of Scotch pine trees glowed pink under a canopy of deep forest green. Shards of orange flashed across the gun-metal grey water as the sun rose on another day. Jessie stood on the deck of the timber house and watched fluttering sails of wooden-hulled boats creep towards the centre of the lake. She listened to the clatter of spoons in bowls from the kitchen as her brother and sister-in-law fed an unfamiliar tribe. Her nieces, she knew, would rise to the occasion. Take care of these two, small patients of the modern world that she had brought into theirs. She looked down at P.J.’s jeans and sweatshirt, now three hundred miles away from the threat of decapitated heads, acid, insane obsession, and septic tanks. It wasn’t the children she was worried about. Infidelity plagued her. Verity Shore’s with Christopher Cadell.
‘Jessieeeeee,’ called Charlotte. She was dragging P.J. and the boys on to the deck. The girls were excited. The men looked lost.
‘We’re going to show them our tepee,’ said Ellie.
‘That’s a wigwam,’ said Charlotte.
Jessie smiled. ‘You’d better find the boys some boots then.’
The boys snaked around P.J.’s legs.
‘We’ve got bows and arrows,’ said Charlotte. ‘We can be Indians.’ She took Ty’s hand. ‘I’m going to show you all our secret places.’ Ty allowed himself to be led away.
‘Go with your brother,’ said P.J., pushing Paul gently.
‘We’ll come and find you in half an hour or so,’ shouted Jessie as she led P.J. back into the house.
‘What about the lake?’ said P.J.
‘Don’t worry, they know not to go near the water unless they have lifejackets,’ said Colin.
P.J. looked worried. Colin passed him a steaming cup of coffee. ‘I’d be more concerned about the girls taking them up trees than going near the water.’
‘Too much of the Driver genes,’ said Kate.
‘Jessie was exactly the same,’ said Colin. ‘No fear.’
‘Is this supposed to make me feel better?’ said P.J., straining to watch the children as they disappeared into the woodland that backed on to the garden. A jumble of trees waiting to come to life as soon as their backs were turned.
‘Sit down,’ said Colin. ‘Your children are safe. Otherwise Jessie wouldn’t have brought you all the way up here. We’ll get the boat going later and take them on the lake, there are some great rocks to climb in the next bay.’
‘Oh God, I’m too urban for this.’
‘You’ll get over it,’ said Colin. ‘So tell me, why did Jessie bring you up here?’
Kate coughed. ‘Jessie, more porridge?’
CHAPTER 56
Mark Ward walked through the archway that led to the Woolwich Cemetery. The cloudless night had left the ground hard with frost. The death certificate said Gareth Blake’s short life had ended on April 11th, 1979. It was a destitute place. Crumbling under the weight of desertion. A place for the poor and forgotten. Or were they just lost, as Clare had said on that long and fruitless journey to Sunderland? He thought of Clare, walking up and down the pathways, reading every gravestone until she found her parents. Always on the look out for a Frank Mills. Waiting to stumble across his final resting place. He’d been a healthy boy, she’d said.
Gareth Blake had been healthy too. Right up until his sudden death of pneumonia. It had been bugging him. The child had never previously been ill. In fact, according to the records, he was a perfect child. In care, wasn’t that an oxymoron? No temper tantrums. No need to discipline. No psychiatry records. Almost as if he wasn’t there. Until his sudden death. Mark found the year: 1979. He began to walk slowly along the line of graves: January 2nd, January 29th, February 9th, April 11th. Gareth Blake. RIP. He knelt down and brushed the dead leaves away. They crumbled at his touch. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Could have been Frank, he supposed. Now they’d never know.
CHAPTER 57
The spiked shells of fallen beechnuts cracked beneath their feet as Jessie and P.J. picked their way through the wood.
‘Your brother and sister-in-law are charming,’ said P.J. ‘Do you all come from up here?’
‘No. They moved after they were married. Kate is a sommelier. One of the best in the business. Her father owned wineries, she picked up the trade. Now they sell to private clients and hotels. She’s a bit of a superstar, really.’
‘None of the others married?’
‘God, no. Imagine trying to compete with Kate.’
‘Or you.’
‘Me?’
‘Well, look at you –’
Jessie heard a twig snap to the left of them. She pointed.
‘Hey, boys!’ shouted P.J.
‘Shh, don’t let them know we’re coming. We’ll be ambushed and it’ll all be over in seconds. Here, have this –’ Jessie picked up a boomerang-shaped stick.
‘What for?’
‘It’s your gun, of course. We’re the cowboys.’
‘We are?’
‘A little imagination, please.’
P.J. put himself in a manly stance. Jessie giggled. ‘You look constipated.’
He tipped an imaginary hat. ‘Why, thank you, ma’am.’
‘Don’t you play games with the boys?’
He immediately came out of his sheriff pose. ‘Yeah. Playstation.’
‘What about Craig? Did you play with him when he was younger?’
P.J. looked uncomfortable. ‘Not really.’
‘Well, you’re in for a shock. Here you have to make your own games.’
P.J. put his hands on his hips. ‘You are really quite annoying.’
‘My brothers would agree.’
‘Colin tells me you climb mountains.’
‘It’s a psychological flaw, reaching the same peaks as they can.’
‘Which mountains?’
‘Kilimanjaro.’
‘No?’ said P.J. mockingly.
‘Mont Blanc. On skis.’
‘Now you’re showing off.’
‘The Eiger.’
‘That’s vulgar, Jessie Driver, truly vulgar.’
‘Touché,’ said Jessie.
‘Attack! Attack!’
‘What?’ P.J. whirled round.
‘Oops, I think we’ve been found.’
P.J. and Jessie stood back to back. Four children streaked across the glade chanting Indian war cries. They had put bird feathers in their hair and Ty was wearing an old Hiawatha wig.
‘Throw down your weapons,’ shouted Ellie.
‘What weapons?’ whispered P.J.
‘The gun.’
P.J. dutifully obeyed.
‘Now you are our prisoners, you have to do exactly what we tell you.’
‘What do you want?’
‘We are hungry. You must go to the rich farmer’s house and steal Coca-Cola and flapjacks and chocolate crispies.’
‘I can make those,’ said Paul.
‘Can you?’ asked Charlotte, impressed, lowering her stick.
‘Let’s go and make some now,’ said Ellie.
‘Yeah!’ said Ty and Charlotte.
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