The One You Love (Emma Holden suspense mystery trilogy)

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘What did Edna say she saw?’ Lizzy said, joining the conversation.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘not a great deal really…’

  ‘Harry, where are you?’

  They heard a frantic shout from within Mr Henderson’s apartment and Emma knew at once that the chance for explanations had slipped away.

  ‘Harry?’

  ‘I’d better go and see what she wants,’ he said, glancing back towards his front door. ‘Won’t be a second, love!’

  ‘Is she sure that it was Dan she saw?’ Emma said, trying to recover the situation.

  ‘Harry, where are you?’ shouted Mrs Henderson again.

  ‘I really had better go,’ he said. ‘She needs me.’

  ‘Please, Mr Henderson,’ Emma begged, ‘it’s really important. The police came to see us before. They think that Dan was the one who attacked his brother. They think he tried to kill him. And it’s mostly because of what your wife told them. Is she certain it was Dan? Or could it have been someone else? You said that she gets confused. Maybe she did see someone, the person who really did this, but just not Dan.’

  ‘I really don’t want to talk any more about it,’ he said, backing towards the door, now avoiding her gaze as if embarrassed by his actions. ‘I’ve told you all I know, and I really don’t want Edna to be bothered about it. She can’t take this kind of upset in her condition. I’m really sorry for your fiancé, and his brother. I’m sorry. I’ll pray that his brother gets better.’

  ‘Mr Henderson, please.’

  But he turned and shuffled back into the apartment. Emma moved up to the doorframe, but resisted stepping inside the apartment and violating his personal space. ‘Please, if there’s any doubt about what your wife saw, then we really need to know about it. The police need to know.’

  He ignored her pleas and as he went to close the door Emma’s first reaction was to put a foot in the doorway. But she decided against it – the last thing she wanted to do was to alienate them with such threatening action.

  She let Mr Henderson close the door.

  9

  This was going to be a special meal, a new start. Once they had been so close, but they hadn’t even spoken in the past few years, not since he had just upped and left, without even a goodbye.

  But now he was coming home.

  She had made a special trip to the butchers in the high street, to pick up a quarter of best quality steak. It had been so long since she had cooked him a meal. The house had been so empty since he had left.

  But no matter, because he had returned when she needed him the most. When she’d first heard his voice she cried. He’d apologised for just disappearing like that, said that he had to get away, get his head sorted. He’d been having problems with his girlfriend; she knew that, although he’d never confided in her about those sorts of things. But she’d never realised that things had got so bad – that the girl had driven him away from his loved ones.

  What gave her the right to drive a boy away from his mother?

  At first he had called her on the telephone, ringing in the early hours. She didn’t mind being woken at two or three in the morning, not for the chance to speak to him. She would have stayed up all night if that’s what had to be done. He said that he missed home. And although he was still far away – though she didn’t like to ask him where he was, in case it scared him off – he promised her he would be home soon. But she had wondered where he had spent all those years. What job had he been doing? Had he met another woman?

  Then, after numerous phone calls, he announced that the time had come for him to return home. And that was today.

  She looked at her watch; he was now fifteen minutes late. What if he’d changed his mind, decided that he could do without his mother? She pushed that thought aside, bending down to the oven, checking that the meat was not overdone. She then turned the gas down on the hob and reached for the glass of wine.

  She never used to be a drinker, but this was a celebration.

  She emptied the glass and poured herself another, again glancing at her watch.

  Where was he?

  She moved out of the kitchen, through the drab, darkened living room and across to the bay window. She scanned the street, half expecting him to be standing there, just waiting to be invited in. But there was no one there.

  ‘Please come back to me,’ she mouthed. ‘I love you so much.’

  She stared out of the window for a few minutes, imagining what life would be like in the house, totally alone. Then she remembered the meal, dashing back into the kitchen. The pans had boiled dry, ruining the vegetables and potatoes. And the meat was crisping up. How long had she been daydreaming?

  Where was he?

  She grabbed an empty pan from the draining board and hurled it across the kitchen, sending it slamming into the wall and bouncing across the floor. The sound of steel against floor-tile reverberated around the room, hurting her ears.

  She finished another glass of wine and then reached for the knife block, pulling out a six-inch blade. She watched her own reflection in the knife, warped like in a fairground House of Mirrors, wondering what the hell she was doing. As if shocked into sense, she suddenly placed the knife back into the block.

  He wasn’t coming, and it was that stupid girl’s fault.

  10

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Lizzy asked, as Emma stared at the closed door. She’d knocked a couple of times, but didn’t want to risk antagonising him too much.

  Emma turned and stepped away from the door, beckoning Lizzy to the other side of the landing, out of earshot. For all she knew, Mr Henderson could have been standing on the other side of the door, trying to listen.

  ‘I think he might be hiding something.’ Emma lowered her voice. ‘I might be wrong, but it just didn’t seem like the full story.’

  ‘You really think so?’ Lizzy replied in a whisper, glancing over at Mr Henderson’s door.

  ‘Look how he reacted when I started asking him whether it was definitely Dan. He looked like he was hiding something – protecting his wife.’

  Lizzy thought it through. ‘Maybe that’s all he’s doing, protecting his wife. You heard what he said, about her being ill. He might just want to be left alone.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Emma conceded. ‘But I can’t just let things go without trying to find out for sure.’

  ‘So what are you going to do? Kick down the door?’

  ‘Very funny,’ Emma said, meeting her smile.

  ‘Sorry,’ Lizzy said. ‘Not the time for a joke.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. The day you lose your ability to make me laugh, I’ll know that life isn’t worth living.’

  ‘So? What are you going to do?’

  ‘Well, I know we can’t just force our way in there. I’ve had enough contact with the police to last me a lifetime – I don’t want to get arrested.’

  ‘How about speaking to Mrs Henderson directly? Maybe she’ll be prepared to speak about what she saw.’

  Emma mused on that possibility. ‘Could be worth a try. Obviously we’d have to wait until Mr Henderson goes out. But even if we do get to talk to her, she might not make much sense. I guess we’d have to hope that we catch her at a good time. But the other problem is that if Mr Henderson found out that we’d spoken to her behind his back he’d go crazy.’

  ‘Worth the risk though,’ Lizzy ventured. ‘After all, what she told the police could get Dan sent to jail.’

  ‘I know,’ Emma acknowledged. ‘You’re right. But it’ll have to wait. Come on,’ she said, heading for the stairs, ‘let’s get this over with.’

  ‘You sure you want to play detective?’ Lizzy asked, as they stood in front of Emma’s apartment door. ‘We can let the police get on with the investigation – they’re used to dealing with things like this.’

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ Emma replied, bringing the key up to the lock.

  But she didn’t feel okay – she felt terrified.

  ‘You don’t know that. Who know
s how you’ll react to going back in there so soon after… well, after everything. I’m scared, Em, and I’m not as personally involved as you. You don’t have to pretend that you’re not afraid.’

  Emma turned to her friend.

  ‘I am scared, Lizzy. But I still have to do this.’

  She turned the key and went to push the door, but was stopped as Lizzy grabbed at her top.

  ‘I’ll be right with you,’ Lizzy said. ‘Promise me that if it gets too much, you’ll tell me, and we’ll be out of there right away.’

  ‘Okay,’ Emma said. ‘I promise.’

  Lizzy released her grip and Emma stepped into the apartment, feeling like she was crossing some forbidden threshold. The first thing that struck her was the temperature in the flat – despite it being warm outside, the flat was cool, almost cold. Emma didn’t believe in ghosts, but as she moved into the hallway the thought struck her that this place now had a sinister feel. She could sense unease from Lizzy too – she was sure she was holding her breath. Emma flipped on the hall light switch and glanced down towards the kitchen, which was shrouded in darkness.

  ‘You okay?’ Emma said, turning around to Lizzy.

  Lizzy nodded, but she looked anything but okay.

  They moved towards the lounge, passing the closed bathroom door.

  ‘We won’t go in there,’ Emma said.

  ‘Fine by me.’ Lizzy’s voice was cracking with nerves. ‘If I need to go to the toilet I’ll pee in the sink.’

  As they walked past the door, Emma thought for a moment that she heard a scratching sound from behind – maybe someone clawing at the wood, lying stricken on the floor. But it was just her mind playing cruel tricks, and she tried to push away the irrational thought that Richard was still in there, waiting for someone to save his life.

  The place didn’t feel like her home anymore – it was tainted, and for the first time Emma wondered if she would ever live there again.

  She moved into the lounge, half-expecting to see Dan on the sofa, watching the football, or laughing manically at a repeat of Friends.

  But the sofa was unmanned, the television off. She looked around the room, but it was difficult to see – the only light was leaking through the curtains, which the police must have drawn after they had concluded their investigations.

  ‘Looking for anything in particular?’ Lizzy asked.

  ‘Just checking to see if anything’s missing – something I might have missed when we first spoke to the police.’

  ‘You still think it might have been a burglary?’

  ‘I know I’m clutching at straws,’ Emma said, turning to her friend, ‘but if I do find that something is missing, then it might help to explain what happened.’

  She moved across to the window and threw back the curtains, letting light flood in. The room looked a whole lot better. Again, she scanned the room. All the expensive equipment was where it belonged – the television, DVD, stereo system, video recorder. There was even a crisp ten-pound note on the window ledge, where Emma had left it on Thursday evening. Satisfied, but disappointed that nothing was missing from the flat, Emma went to the bedroom to pack some extra clothes. Lizzy put the kettle on for a cup of tea, having discovered that there was still some milk in the fridge.

  ‘Here you go,’ Lizzy said, handing her a cup of tea. ‘The milk is just about okay, but you might want to drink it quickly.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘That’s a nice photograph,’ Lizzy noted. ‘He looks young there.’

  ‘He is,’ Emma said, admiring the photo she’d taken down from the window ledge. ‘It was when he was at university. I don’t know why I always liked it so much – I didn’t even know him then. Maybe that’s it though – it shows me what things were like before we met.’

  Lizzy watched Emma stare into the photograph as if she was looking at some faraway object. ‘You won’t just have those memories. You’ve both got a great future.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Emma replied. ‘But who knows.’

  Lizzy put an arm around her.

  ‘You and Dan will be fine.’

  ‘I just need an explanation, Lizzy. I can’t take not knowing.’

  ‘I know.’

  Emma looked up towards the television, and that’s when she realised that something was missing.

  It was a framed photo of her and Dan, which they had taken on a recent holiday to Rome. They were stood in St Peter’s Square, with the famous basilica rising in the background. Usually the photo was on top of the television. She got up and searched behind the set, to see if it had fallen down the back, but it wasn’t there.

  It couldn’t be him again, could it?

  Emma moved out of the lounge and hurried down the hall towards the bedroom, the terrible thought nagging at the back of her mind.

  ‘You okay, Emma?’ asked Lizzy, following her.

  ‘Just checking something,’ she shouted, not slowing her pace.

  This time she knew what she was looking for. She surveyed the bedside cabinet and the wall opposite the bed. Her suspicions were confirmed. She’d been focussing so much on the expensive items that she’d missed it completely.

  ‘They’re all gone,’ she said, as Lizzy entered the bedroom. ‘All the photos of Dan and me. They’re gone.’

  11

  ‘Why would someone take those photos?’ Lizzy asked, as they were sitting on the sofa in Emma’s flat.

  ‘I don’t know. But I do know that the police will see it as more evidence that it was Dan who did that to Richard.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘I can just imagine what they’d say now,’ Emma said, thinking back to how the detective had announced that Mrs Henderson had seen Dan running from the apartment. ‘They’ll say he took a couple of reminders of me and him, before running away.’

  ‘They might not,’ Lizzy offered.

  ‘They will, Lizzy. You saw for yourself – they’re convinced Dan did it.’

  ‘But what if he is guilty?’

  ‘You can’t mean that,’ Emma replied, shocked at the suggestion. ‘You can’t think Dan could be capable of doing that.’

  Lizzy turned away somewhat apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Emma, but we just don’t know, do we?’

  ‘I don’t believe you. I thought you of all people would support me – and Dan.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then don’t give up on Dan, please.’

  But as they sat in an uncomfortable silence, it was getting harder and harder for Emma to ignore the voice in her head: the voice suggesting that Dan was guilty.

  ‘Look, Emma,’ Lizzy said, after almost a minute of silence. ‘I’m sorry. I want to believe that Dan is innocent, and I do believe it really. But there is a chance, no matter how much we don’t think it, that Dan did do that to Richard. We just don’t know what happened, do we?’

  Emma couldn’t find the words. To admit that she did agree with Lizzy would feel like a terrible betrayal. And in a strange way she felt that to even entertain the possibility that Dan was guilty would make it more likely to be true.

  ‘Maybe Dan had a really good reason for doing what he did,’ Lizzy continued. ‘Maybe he did it in self-defence. What if Richard came round to the flat and for some reason they started to fight – I don’t know why – and as they fought Dan hit Richard just that bit too hard?’

  Emma shook her head.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I read a story last year about a man who got into a drunken fight in a nightclub – the argument was about nothing important. He banged into the back of his girlfriend and the guy took offence. The man threw one punch and the other guy fell and hit his head on the floor – fractured his skull. He died on the spot and the other guy was charged with manslaughter. It can be as easy as that. A trivial thing, but you catch a person in a wrong place, or they fall and bang their head in a certain way, and they end up in hospital or dead. What if that happened, for whatever reason, and Dan just panicked? You wouldn’t blame him, would you? And m
aybe now he’s hiding out, knowing that he should give himself in, but scared of what might happen to him. It would be completely understandable, and it wouldn’t make Dan a bad person.’

  Lizzy waited nervously for a response, while Emma mulled over what Lizzy had just said. Part of her hated Lizzy for even suggesting that Dan might be responsible, while another part loved her friend for daring to risk their relationship by exploring all the options, no matter how painful.

  ‘I can see where you’re coming from,’ Emma acknowledged, picking up the photo of Dan from the coffee table. ‘And if we’d been talking about anyone else except Richard then I might believe it could be true. But,’ she said, looking across to Lizzy, ‘I just can’t believe that Dan would ever fight with his brother. Not after what he’s told me about their relationship – and not after what I’ve seen when they’re together. They’re not just brothers, Lizzy, they’re best friends.’

  ‘Even best friends can fall out,’ Lizzy responded.

  ‘Yes,’ Emma said. ‘But not those two – Dan told me once how when they were on a family holiday – Dan was about eight and Richard was six – Richard got taken to hospital with viral meningitis. Dan was so upset that he wouldn’t leave the hospital – he stayed and slept at his bedside for about two days solid. I know that was a long time ago, Lizzy, but I don’t think things have changed – Dan would be the same now as then. That’s one reason why I need to go to see Richard as much as possible. Because I know that Dan would be there day and night if he could be.’

  ‘But doesn’t the fact that the photos are missing put any doubt in your mind?’

  ‘It makes me more convinced that it wasn’t him. Okay, say Dan did attack Richard, and he decided to run away. Why would he take the trouble to grab the photos above anything else? I’ve looked around the flat, and he hasn’t taken anything else of his – clothes, bags. But of anything, those are the things that he would need if he were going on the run – not a couple of photos. Whatever way you look at it, it doesn’t make sense for him to have done that.’