Isolated

by M. A. Hunter

  Louise reaches to take control of the phone but Owen’s grip is too tight.

  ‘Please, Dad, you’re not listening. You don’t understand,’ Sally implores. ‘Pete isn’t the man who did this to me. Pete isn’t Joshua’s father.’

  Owen is staring into the phone, probably far too close for Sally and Pete to be able to see anything but his brooding and bloodshot eyes. The rest of us are staring at the television, watching the silent exchanges and knowing looks between the two of them, as if they’re waiting to deliver a well-rehearsed performance.

  ‘Please, Dad, give the phone back to Lou, so I can see the rest of you. Please?’

  He throws it in Louise’s direction, but doesn’t return to his space on the sofa beside Diane, instead pressing an arm against the closed living room door and resting his head on his forearm.

  ‘Thank you. Now, I know what I’m about to say won’t be easy to hear – God knows it isn’t easy to say – but it’s the truth. Pete was never interested in me or Louise – not like that. He wanted to help us learn skills, which is why he taught the drama class, but sexually we never would have been compatible.’ She pauses and looks to Pete for confirmation, which he provides in a simple nod. ‘Pete is gay; he always has been.’

  Our eyes all focus on Pete, whose face reddens even further. ‘It’s true,’ he confirms. ‘I love Sally, and I love Joshua, but as a sister and brother. I wasn’t out-out back then; I was confused and wanted to deny how I really felt, but once I came to Germany, away from certain pressures, I was able to embrace who I want to be. And Sally has been as much of a rock for me as I have been for her.’ He smiles at Sally and the kinship between them is apparent. Pete turns back to the camera. ‘When my dad caught me in town with my arm around another guy, he flew off the handle. I remember him dragging me to that old shack of a hut and berating me. He accused me of being sordid, told me that I was committing heresy. He even accused me of sneaking about in dark places, cavorting with the devil himself! Can you believe the nerve of the guy, when he—’

  Sally puts a hand up to stop him. ‘Things are a lot more relaxed over here and Pete left the military after a year. We rented a flat for a bit while I nursed Joshua and he got a job teaching. It hasn’t been easy – for either of us – but we made the right decision to come here. You only have to look at how well Joshua is doing to see that.’

  I’m about to ask the obvious question when Rimmington beats me to it. ‘So if Pete isn’t the father of your son, who is?’

  The two of them exchange glances again, before Sally takes a deep breath. ‘Pete’s dad, Bill Havvard, was the one I slept with.’

  Diane screams and Owen bangs his arm against the door, turning as angry tears blot on his cheeks.

  ‘What?’ Owen demands. ‘N–n–no, it couldn’t be.’

  Sally has fresh tears as she nods. ‘I swear to you, Dad, it was him. It only happened the once. He caught me after I snuck out of that very house one night and offered to walk me back home. I was terrified he would tell you and Mamma that he’d caught me drinking in the park and I begged him not to. He said he would keep my secret, if…’ She swallows audibly. ‘If I would let him kiss me.’ She scoffs now. ‘I thought it was a small price to pay and I was picturing Pete as it happened, which is probably something I should see a therapist about.’ She laughs insincerely. ‘I knew that what he was doing was wrong but Louise and I were always so competitive at school that I thought this would give me the edge. I knew what he was doing and I didn’t ask him to stop, but I regretted it as soon as it had happened. He promised he wouldn’t tell you two about seeing me out late and I knew he’d have to keep it quiet because I now had something over him. I was naïve enough to think I couldn’t get pregnant, so I didn’t tell anyone until it was too late.

  ‘I have so many regrets about that time in my life, but without them I wouldn’t now have Joshua and so, despite everything, I wouldn’t change a single thing about my life. I’ve learned to forgive and forget.’

  Rimmington already has the phone to her ear once more. ‘Get Colonel William Havvard to the Curtis house, now. I don’t care if he’s busy! Oh, and get a transport vehicle ready too.’

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Now

  Bovington Garrison, Dorset

  DI Rimmington and I have excused ourselves from the living room to allow Sally a little time to reconnect with her parents without us gawping. I’m not going to lie; this is certainly not how I expected today to go, and yet it wasn’t a total surprise to hear Sally accusing Colonel William Havvard of assaulting her. From my first encounter with him – when Cheryl and Diane were with me in the pub across the street from the base – it was clear that he likes to dominate proceedings. I’ve known bullies in my time and I had a similar feeling when I first interviewed Arthur Turgood back before I was ever able to prove the abuse that he’d mercilessly inflicted on Freddie Mitchell and the other boys. I’ve seen that malevolent look that feeds on holding power over others, and both Turgood and Colonel Havvard have it in spades.

  A commotion at the front door signals that the colonel has arrived and as his booming voice carries into the kitchen, it’s clear he’s rattled.

  ‘What the bloody hell is this circus you’ve got going on here?’ he yells at the poor officer assigned to open the door and verify guests. ‘First of all, you come onto my base while we’re setting up for the day then you wave that ridiculous piece of paper in front of my face saying you have the right to search the training woods, and now I find you here harassing one of our families. Your chief superintendent will be hearing about all this, I can assure you!’

  Rimmington has been lurking just behind the kitchen door, eagerly listening to every word. Our eyes meet and, from the look of glee now crossing her face, I don’t think it’s fear holding her back. This moment has been a long time coming for her and I can’t blame her for wanting to revel for a moment.

  She emerges from her place and looks at Havvard for a long moment but when she speaks there is no sound of gloating. ‘Colonel Havvard, thank you for making the time to come and see me. I promise you we won’t keep you for any longer than is absolutely necessary to clear up a few minor details.’

  I want to applaud her calmness, as even I’m chomping at the bit to scratch his eyes out. Yet the delivery of her words has done exactly what she intended. All the bluster and fuss has gone out of him, like a balloon deflating before my very eyes. Offering him that element of submissiveness has lulled him into thinking that he’s still in control, when I sense he is anything but.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to step into the kitchen?’ Rimmington suggests, and that’s my cue to leave.

  Havvard pushes past me as I scuttle out of the room and makes his way to the kitchen sink by the front window, away from the door. With the lounge door closed, there isn’t anywhere for me to go, so I perch on the stairs instead. Rimmington nods at me but leaves the kitchen door wide open. I would have expected her to close it to give them some privacy, but maybe there is an element within her that doesn’t feel wholly safe being alone with this bully.

  ‘Have you been made aware that the remains of a body have been located in the woods where we were searching this morning?’ Rimmington begins.

  ‘Yes. And?’ His tone is short and untrusting.

  ‘Based on a witness statement we received yesterday, we had reason to believe that the remains might belong to Sally Curtis, which is why I am in this house right now. It will take several hours for samples of earth to be collected, and for the bones to be recovered intact, but we are hopeful of making a positive identification in the coming days.’

  ‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it?

  ‘Yes, and we located them much sooner than we’d anticipated, which will hopefully mean we’ll be out of your hair soon.’

  ‘Good. With Christmas around the corner, I don’t want your lot interfering with what our families have planned. It’s a pain in the arse that you’ve closed half this road off as it
is.’

  She’s nodding with false understanding. ‘All very necessary though, I’m afraid. You must understand that we have processes and procedures to follow.’

  He grunts.

  ‘Anyway,’ Rimmington presses on, ‘that isn’t the reason I asked you to meet me here, Colonel Havvard.’

  ‘It isn’t?’

  ‘No.’ A pause. ‘The truth is that a very serious accusation has been levied at you and I wanted to bring it to your attention informally like this to give you the opportunity to answer the charge.’

  ‘An accusation against me? By whom?’ His mood has definitely changed, and in my head I’m picturing a tiger circling its cage, waiting to lash out at the buffoon who dared to enter it.

  ‘By your son, Colonel.’

  ‘Pete? What’s he got to do with any of this? When did you speak to him?’

  ‘This morning, via video call, as it happens. Have you spoken to him recently?’

  ‘No, not for a while… We don’t really speak anymore… It’s complicated.’

  ‘Oh, I see, well, um, your son has made a statement accusing you of impregnating Sally Curtis in the weeks prior to her disappearance.’

  The silence is deafening and I can’t take my eyes from them.

  ‘He said what?’ Havvard’s voice booms.

  Rimmington remains where she is. ‘You can understand why I wanted to bring this to your attention as a matter of urgency,’ she replies calmly, with an air of bogus submissiveness. He might be a tiger waiting to pounce but she is a spider, carefully building a web to trap her prey. I think I’m really starting to like DI Rimmington.

  Havvard can see his world unravelling before his eyes. ‘Well, he’s lying of course. I never… I don’t know why he’d say such a thing!’

  ‘But you understand that when such an accusation is made, I’m obliged to investigate it. Are you saying that it isn’t true?’

  ‘Of course it isn’t bloody true!’ he bellows again. ‘What do you take me for?’

  ‘So you didn’t have sexual intercourse with Sally Curtis in 2005?’

  ‘No, I did not!’ he replies evenly.

  ‘Thank you for confirming that, Colonel. There is something else I neglected to mention. Your son Pete wasn’t the only witness to come forward and levy this accusation at you. Sally herself has confirmed the timeline of events too. She says you caught her out late one night and blackmailed her into having sex with you, sex which resulted in her falling pregnant.’

  Rimmington has stopped speaking and as I watch her, I see she is doing a wonderful job of keeping the smug look from her face.

  ‘You’ve spoken to Sally?’ His voice is quieter now, almost reluctantly accepting his fate.

  ‘Oh, yes. Turns out she’s alive and well, and living with Pete in Germany.’

  His face reddens by the second as he realises he is now tangled in the carefully laid web.

  ‘And she says I had sex with her and got her pregnant?’

  Rimmington nods as if she’s casually confirming a meal choice.

  ‘She’s lying!’ Havvard yells. ‘Simple as that. I am a decorated war hero. I’m set to receive a CBE in the Queen’s New Year’s Honours List in just over a week. You see what they’re trying to do here, don’t you? They’re trying to smear my name to embarrass me and take the sheen off my deserved recognition.’

  Rimmington feigns confusion. ‘Why would they want to do that exactly, Colonel?’

  ‘Oh, because that boy is a deviant, of course. I didn’t want to bring it up – because I know it isn’t politically correct in this day and age – but the two of us had a falling out some years ago when I found out he likes… well, he’s gay. That’s what this will be about now. It’s his attempt at revenge when things are finally going right for me.’

  He’s reaching; a desperate man will do desperate things when pushed.

  ‘Still,’ Rimmington muses, ‘it is a serious accusation and I will need to formally investigate the allegation, if only to prove your innocence of the charge, you understand?’

  ‘If I’m supposed to have… done what they’ve said, why is she only coming forward now? Why didn’t she accuse me when it happened or tell someone about it? I mean, fifteen years ago? There won’t be any evidence to prove anything one way or another. It’s her word against mine and how can you put any credence in the words of a girl who’s pretended to be dead for the last fifteen years? It’s nonsense.’

  ‘I understand, Colonel, I really do. However, there is one way you can one hundred per cent discredit this allegation.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘Consent to a DNA test. The thing is, Sally delivered the baby she was pregnant with when she ran away fifteen years ago and if we could compare a sample of your DNA to his, and it isn’t a match, then it really is your word against hers, but the evidence would be in your favour.’

  There is silence as the trap is sprung.

  ‘Is that okay, Colonel? I can have one of our forensic technicians collect your sample now, and then we’ll have it compared to Sally’s son’s in our lab where there’s no risk of contamination. That way, you’ll have a report that backs up what you’ve told me today.’

  Havvard still doesn’t respond and I wish I could see his face as he desperately claws at any kind of way out. ‘I think I should consult with a solicitor,’ he finally says. ‘If I’m being accused of this preposterous crime, I don’t want to say anything that might limit the compensation due me when I decide to sue you and your force for slander.’

  I hadn’t heard the lounge door open but I suddenly catch sight of a figure in my periphery rushing towards the open kitchen door. Instinct – or stupidity – kicks in and I’m on my feet, crashing my shoulder into the charging Owen Curtis. My nimble body does little to stop his movement, but I slow him enough to allow Rimmington and Havvard to take evasive manoeuvres.

  ‘Enough, Bill,’ Owen says, making no effort to pull me away, maybe grateful that I’m stopping him from making a bigger mistake. ‘Stop the bullshit and lies and admit what you did.’

  ‘I’ll mind you to hold your tongue, Captain,’ Havvard cautions, coming closer.

  Owen makes no effort to back off and if I’m not careful I’ll end up as the meat in their sandwich. ‘I trusted you. I’ve blindly followed you for decades, believing that what we were doing was serving the greater good but it’s all bollocks, isn’t it? You, this, none of it is serving anything other than your greater good.’

  ‘Don’t say another word, Captain,’ Havvard warns again, his leg brushing against mine as he tries to get as close as he can.

  I force myself to straighten and hold my ground until both men ease off. Rimmington nods gratefully at me.

  ‘DI Rimmington, I’d like to make a formal statement when you have a moment,’ Owen says, now addressing her.

  Havvard stabs a finger towards him, almost catching me in the face as he does. ‘Another word out of you and I’ll have you court-martialled for insubordination. Do you understand me, Captain Curtis?’

  I think back to the passage in Natalie’s journal where she described the night Havvard visited her dad and the subsequent conversation. I already know what he’s about to say before the confession tumbles from his mouth.

  ‘I know who the body in the woods is,’ Owen says. ‘Her name is Margaret Kilpatrick.’

  Rimmington frowns at the name.

  ‘Fifteen-year-old girl who went missing from the base in 2000,’ I tell her.

  ‘Don’t do this, Captain,’ Havvard cautions.

  But Owen is past caring. ‘Everyone thought she’d run away, especially when a postcard mysteriously arrived from Denmark. Only she never sent it, did she, Bill?’

  ‘That’s enough, Captain.’

  ‘What kind of fifteen-year-old runs off to join a convent?’ Owen scoffs, echoing my own doubt.

  ‘Don’t listen to a word this imbecile is saying,’ Havvard pleads with Rimmington. ‘This is obviously some other story h
e’s concocted – probably with that lying bitch of a daughter of his – in order to tarnish my good name ahead of my CBE award.’

  ‘Let him speak,’ I snap at Havvard, uncertain where the courage has come from. ‘Tell us what happened to Margaret, Owen.’

  He glares at Havvard as he speaks. ‘Bill called on us in the early hours of New Year’s Day. Me and Geoff, his two “boys” – that’s what he called us. He said there’d been a terrible accident and he needed our help. We were ready to die for him so of course we went. He took us to the old hut where we found Margaret dead on the cold floor. He reckoned he’d found her hanging from a bit of rope. She’d killed herself, he said. Told us it would be too difficult for her family to deal with and that the best thing we could do for them was to bury her body and make out that she’d run away from home. She was nearly sixteen, he said, and therefore of an age where she might want to start out on her own. The bruising around her neck could have been consistent with strangulation by a rope, but when I asked where it had happened, Bill said he’d already disposed of the rope, which is all the more reason why we needed to handle the situation there and then.’

  There is pure hatred in Havvard’s bulging eyes, and I’m no longer certain he won’t attack me to get at Owen.

  ‘Geoff thought we should just tell her parents the truth, but Bill has a way of forcing his will on others and before I knew it, we were sneaking into those woods and digging a ten-foot trench. It took hours but we managed it before the sun came up.’

  That depth would certainly explain why sniffer dogs wouldn’t necessarily pick up on the scent when searching for Sally years later.

  ‘It was Geoff’s idea to go to Denmark to send the postcard,’ Owen continues, ‘and we bribed a local to make the statement that she’d seen Margaret in the nunnery, alive and well. I never thought we’d get away with it, but as Sergeant Kilpatrick came to terms with her running away, it became easier to believe we hadn’t done anything wrong… that Bill had been right all along.’