Her Sister's Secret

by E. V. Seymour

  This was not a hole. It was a chasm.

  “They truly love each other, Molly,” Dusty continued. “Always have and always will. Your father would do anything for her, and she for him. Do you understand?”

  I did. After all the years spent together, they still acted like a couple of lovebirds. Family was important to both of them, but I’d always sensed that they could have survived without having us kids. My mum, who wasn’t exactly a pushover, deferred to Dad on everything. He’d always have the last word. She admired his dependability, loved all that Alpha male, macho crap. White anger swept through me.

  “But we’re talking about covering up murder.”

  “Alleged murder and your mother played no part in it, from what you say.”

  “She maintained the lie.”

  “And look how much it’s cost her, Molly.”

  Not something that my sister had factored in, it had been her greatest miscalculation and mistake. She must have been out of her mind to act in the way she did. “Are you saying that I should keep quiet too?”

  “That, my darling, only you can decide.”

  I drained my glass. How could I make that kind of choice?

  “You have to tell Rocco,” Lenny said, a sentiment with which Dusty agreed.

  I explained about him losing his job, clearing out of his home, and cutting off all communications.

  “Maybe, he’ll come to you.”

  “Not after the way I treated him.” I ran my fingers madly through my hair. “Maybe I should go straight to the police.”

  “And say what?” Lenny spiked with alarm. “You do realise the consequences?”

  “At the moment I’m living with the consequences,” I said bitterly. And I hadn’t forgotten Charlie Binns and the fact someone, possibly Mallis, had had him bumped off. I asked Dusty if she’d ever heard my father talk about him.

  “Ah.” She clinked the ice in her glass and took a long swallow. Insides contracting, I asked her to explain.

  “Mallis and your dad served together in the MET.”

  “What are you implying?”

  “Nothing, my sweetheart.”

  “There were rumours. Is that what you mean?” What was it Dad had said? I screwed my brain up tight, trying to recall. Oh yeah, rumours about him supplying Zach, rumours about tipping him off. But the notebook wasn’t rumour. That was real.

  “What I mean is that there were rumours about Mallis.”

  “Not about Dad?”

  “None of which I’m aware.” Dusty chinked the ice in her glass and took a long, thoughtful swallow that made me jag inside. Fascination sharpened Lenny’s features. For her, this was an afternoon’s titillating entertainment. For me, it was life and death.

  I took another swig of gin. The astringent taste sharpened my thinking. What the fuck, I told them about Charlie Binns and the subsequent conversation with Tina Vernon.

  Dusty listened hard. When I finished, she said, “I appreciate you might not wish to go directly to the police, but I have a dear friend who might be able to help.”

  “A police officer?” Surely, that was against the rules. All police officers, retired or not, were bound by the Official Secrets Act; to discuss inside information was a serious offence. “Would this person talk to me?”

  “I can’t promise. Possibly.”

  “And?”

  “Come on, Dusty,” Lenny said, “Stop playing cat and mouse and tell us who it is.”

  Dusty flashed Lenny a warm smile. “Patience, darling. My source is a senior police officer. Ex-Met, retired to the Cotswolds.”

  “And he talked to you?’” I was astounded.

  “Oh for goodness’ sake, Molly. Don’t be so dramatic. She mentioned that she knew your father.”

  “And Mallis?”

  “She knew him too.”

  My mind teemed with possibilities.

  “Want me to give her a call and grab you an audience?”

  Lenny gaped from Dusty to me. “Is this a good idea? Who knows what she might say and if it’s bad, there won’t be any going back.”

  “It’s fine. It’s what I want. I need to hear it. All of it.”

  Chapter 63

  Dusty called a cab for both of us and, after brief discussion, I handed the full running of the shop to Lenny, with my aunt’s help.

  “What about the alarm system in the shop?” Lenny said.

  “Haven’t got round to sorting the remote package yet. Look, don’t worry, I’ll continue to take responsibility.”

  “You sure?” Dusty said with a rare frown.

  “Yup, I’m closer than you. Make sure you arm it each night before you leave.”

  “Okay, between us we’ll drop your car back tomorrow,” Lenny said, “push the keys through the door.”

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Manage.” My aunt laughed, squeezing my shoulder.

  I couldn’t imagine anything getting Dusty down. It didn’t have the elevating effect I’d hoped for. Dazed and with a terrible sense of foreboding, I asked the driver to drop us both at Dusty’s hotel, in town. After paying the fare, she asked if I’d be okay.

  “I feel a lot better for talking.”

  “Good girl. Want to come inside?” She looked up at the grand façade.

  “No, thanks. I need to think.”

  “Not too hard, I hope.”

  She clip-clopped away on high heels and I walked up the steps to Belle Vue Terrace, a promenade with shops and galleries, set high up on the apex of two roads, and towards Rose Bank Gardens, with its impressive metal sculpture of fighting buzzards. On the steep path leading to one of the hillside walks, I heard my name called. Twisting round, I gaped at the extended hand. The man in the shop. The guy with the BMW. I wasn’t sure which appalled me most, the fake grin, rancid breath, or the threat of his touch. I dug my palms into the pockets of my shorts.

  “Clive Mallis.” A smile lifted the edges of his mouth.

  “I know who you are.”

  His lips stretched thinner. I was in no doubt that he was possessed of a cold and ruthless intelligence. “Sounds like you’ve already made your mind up about me.”

  “What do you want, Mr Mallis?” I took a step back.

  “Clive, please,” he said, with a snicker. “I’m one of your dad’s oldest mates. No need for formalities.”

  Breathing hard, I thought my pounding heart would detonate inside my chest.

  “I know what kind of police officer you were,” I said with less emphasis than I’d intended, mainly because fear was oozing out of my every pore. Straightaway, he picked up on it.

  “Some of it bad, if you believe what you’re told, which wouldn’t be wise at all. I only wanted to tell you that your father is a good man. Loves his kids,” he said, rolling his tongue around the words. “It would be a pity for a family, already broken, to be smashed apart over a silly misunderstanding.”

  “Is that so?”

  He continued to grin, although any warmth evaporated when it reached his cold and empty eyes.

  “Did my dad put you up to this?”

  “Molly,” he said, feigning shock. “How could you think such a thing?”

  “I’m not Charlie Binns or someone you can extort loyalty from or threaten with knives and dead animals.’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’

  My breath briefly snagged in the back of my throat. Mallis looked genuinely perplexed. No matter, I thought, furiously recalibrating. “Did you shut Binns up, or did you get someone else to do it for you?” Probably not my wisest move. The fixed grin faltered. His jaw tensed. Eyes narrowed to two thin slits. I was quite pleased to see a line of sweat break out across his brow. “Not sure I know what you mean.”

  Attempting to push past him, I felt Mallis’s hand clamp on my arm, pinching the skin beneath my elbow. His grip was surprisingly dry – like a snake’s.

  “Let go of me.”

  “Calm down.”

 
“If you don’t, I’ll scream the town down.”

  His lips hitched into a half-smile. “Okay,” he said, releasing me. “Sorry,” he added without conviction.

  Peeling away, I retreated the way I’d come, the only physical legacy of the conversation a red mark on my skin where Mallis had gripped me. More worrying, was his strong emotional reaction to my question about Charlie Binns.

  Out of the gardens, I shot back onto the pavement. At any second, I expected him to catch up and drag me to some place he could kill me. I liked to think I’d landed a fatal blow. Sixth sense told me he’d be back.

  Jumping on a bus signed for Malvern Link, I got off at my stop and ran the short journey home. No sooner than I’d stumbled through the front door, Chancer called me again.

  “Now’s not a good time.” Pain creased my temple, the makings of a cracking booze-in-the-day fuelled hangover.

  “Tell me when is.”

  I parked my phone between my left ear and shoulder and slumped onto the nearest chair. “What is it, Chancer?” One part irritation, two parts resignation.

  “Firstly, how are you?”

  You don’t want to know. “I’m all right. Early days. Sorry, I didn’t get to speak to you at the funeral.”

  “That’s fine. I completely understand.”

  “Nice to see you and Edie showing a united front.”

  “Oh that,” he scoffed. “All show. Edie’s idea.”

  “It was a kind thought.”

  “Nothing kind about it. She couldn’t resist tagging along with me – manipulative cow.”

  “Don’t be so vile.”

  “Yeah, well,” he blustered. “Thing is, I wanted to invite you out for a walk.”

  I scratched my chin. “You’ve never once asked me out for a walk.”

  “Well, it’s high time I did. And,” he said pointedly, “I want your advice.”

  “Is this connected to Zach?” I said warily.

  “Zach? Not sure I follow.” I listened hard for any deceit in Chancer’s voice. “It’s about Edie.”

  “Oh God, Chancer, I’m no good at relationships.”

  “On this we can agree.” I was supposed to find it funny. I didn’t. “Please, Molly. I need to talk to someone. She’s driving me crazy.”

  I took a bold breath. “Is that why you hit her?”

  “Who on earth told you that?”

  “Edie.”

  “That frigging little bitch is the limit. Surely, you know me better than that?”

  I didn’t know. From where I was sitting, anything was possible.

  “Molly? Are you still there?”

  “Sorry, yeah. Okay.”

  “You’ll see me?” His voice soared several octaves, peculiarly overjoyed by the prospect. You’d think I’d agreed to hook him up with royalty.

  “I meant I believe you.”

  “Aw, Molly.”

  “All right, all right, I give in.” If only to prove to Mallis that if he had any malign designs on me, I had a sturdy male companion.

  “Great. Tomorrow afternoon. Got any walking boots?”

  “Of course.” It was practically a requirement of living in Malvern, although I drew the line at walking sticks and the rest of the kit beloved by serious ramblers.

  “We’ll have a smashing trudge across the hills in the sunshine and then I’ll treat you to dinner at The Swan.”

  “Chancer, I don’t need to be treated.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll pick you up at 3.30 p.m. See you then.”

  With a splitting head, I fell into bed and pretty much slept the clock round, only waking to drink water, take painkillers and totter off to the bathroom. Magically, the next morning, I woke exceptionally early but with a clear head. That was the problem.

  And then there was Rocco. I had to find him.

  Chapter 64

  I showered and ate breakfast. About to leave, my phone rang. As if by some weird kind of telepathy, it was Mum.

  “Molly, can I come round?”

  “I’m just on my way out, Mum.”

  “Could you hang on for a few moments?”

  “Sorry, I have a hellish schedule.” Not the real reason for my reluctance to see her.

  “Please, Molly. We’re all upset.”

  I bet.

  “This is important.”

  “Then say it now.”

  “No, sweetheart, not like this.”

  I blinked back sudden tears. My mother rarely applied terms of endearment. I don’t think she’d ever called me ‘sweetheart’ in her life.

  “Please, Molly. Don’t shut us out.”

  Shut me out, more like. Grappling with my temper, I said, “If you’ve come to plead on behalf of Dad or say you didn’t know, forget it.”

  “This is between you and me, Molly. Your father has no idea I’m making this call.”

  Had to rate as a first in Napier history. Everything they did, they did together. No secrets between them; only secrets between them and me. “Did you cover for him?”

  “Molly, it’s complicated.”

  I took a deep breath, looked at the wall. I’d spent so long wanting to know and now I did, I couldn’t bear any more lies. And I was wary. I didn’t want my mother knowing to what extent I could ruin them. “I’ll be here for the next twenty minutes.”

  She must have been virtually on my doorstep because, by the time I’d popped to the loo, she was in my kitchen. I stood with my back to the sink, arms crossed, as defensive as I felt. Mum stared at me with haggard eyes. Dusty was right. My father’s actions and Scarlet’s death had cost her everything.

  “I’m not apologising for what your father did.”

  “Good.”

  “I had no idea until after it was done.”

  “I believe you.”

  The lines around her eyes relaxed a little. “But I was in a difficult position. If I’d told the truth, my husband and my son would have gone to prison. You know how badly police officers are treated behind bars.”

  Which was why I felt so torn. “Did it ever occur to you that Zach could have killed Drea Temple?”

  “Never. It’s not in his nature.” Her voice was strong, unwavering. I believed her, or at least I believed that she had no doubt. Mother love is as powerful as dragon glass.

  “Your silence protected a murderer.”

  She flushed angrily. “I was told it was an accident. As soon as your father told me what he’d done, I asked for a divorce.” I blinked in surprise. “He begged me to stay. It took him a while to get me to change my mind. We paid for Zach to go away, making it clear that, although we still loved him, he was no longer welcome at home.” She glanced down so that I wouldn’t see the tear of frustration and distress beading down her cheek.

  “And Mallis? Why does my father stay friends with a corrupt police officer? He’s a thug and he threatened me.”

  “He did what?”

  I described my recent encounter. I’d like to say she looked surprised. She didn’t. “Clive will do anything to protect his interests.”

  “His interests meaning himself.” I repeated my question.

  “Have you ever heard the saying about keeping your enemies close? Your father saw a greater advantage in controlling Clive than making an adversary of him.”

  “He’s afraid of him?”

  “Mallis is not a man to cross, Molly.”

  And I’d made a big mistake in being so loose mouthed around him. The sooner I could speak to Dusty’s contact, the better. “That night Mallis visited, what was that all about?”

  “I wanted to come clean with you. I thought if I explained, we could work something out, but your dad and Clive were dead set against.”

  And they were right, her expression said. At least we could agree on something. “What made you change your mind about leaving Dad?”

  “You and Scarlet.”

  I expressed disbelief. “We’d already left home by then.”

  “It was still important to keep the family toge
ther.” It seemed like a lame, badly rehearsed response. Recalling my aunt’s words, I believed that my mother’s strong sense of self-preservation was a more compelling reason. I think she read the cynicism in my eyes because she said, “You were always such a daddy’s girl. It would have broken your heart.”

  “And yet he broke it anyway.” The sad truth: it would take me more than a lifetime from which to recover from his betrayal.

  “He’s not a bad man, Molly.”

  “How can you say that?” Except I knew; because he’d rescued her.

  “Your father didn’t set out to deliberately hurt. He was only protecting his family.”

  “Well, sometimes that’s not possible.” My voice was uncomfortably on the rise. “Sometimes you have to let people take the rap for their mistakes and pay for them.”

  My mother spread her hands, eyes glistening, fingers trembling. “Don’t you think that’s exactly what we’re doing?”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  Chapter 65

  Rocco would know what to do. His decision whether or not to go straight to the police and tell them the whole sorry tale trumped any that I might take.

  It took me a few minutes to reach his cottage on the Wyche. As I thumped on the door, a man, climbing into a van outside, looked across. “Nobody there, love. Must be on holiday, or something.” Next, I hammered it to Worcester, taking bends too fast and overtaking blind. Breathlessly, I parked opposite the cathedral. Despite the early hour, sunshine bleached the pavement, the walls, and every building in between, the city of Worcester gasping in its thrall. The insane heat felt like another obstacle in a trail of others and I staggered up to the crescent near the cathedral and hurried into ContraMed. Blissfully cool inside, it exuded professionalism and respectability. It felt safe.

  A middle-aged woman with heavy features sat in reception, pecking intently at a keyboard with short powerful fingers. She did not look up. I waited, feeling invisible. When she eventually glanced up, I plastered on my best people-pleasing smile.

  “I was wondering if I could leave a message for Rocco Noble.”

  “He no longer works here.” The way she said it you’d think I’d asked to speak to a celebrity convicted of indecent behaviour.