The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller

by K. L. Slater

  Forty-Five

  Juliet

  Both Tom and Beth have warned me against looking at my work emails.

  ‘I’ll handle everything,’ Beth assured me when I gave her the passwords to the business sales and client accounts. ‘There’s absolutely no need for you to give it any more thought. Maddy is your only priority right now.’

  She’s right, I know it. But with the rest of my life in tatters, the temptation to dip in to see what is happening with the business proves too much to fight.

  After five seconds of glancing down the email inbox, I wish I could un-see some of the subject lines.

  Order cancellation

  Retraction of contract

  Please remove us from your communications

  When I see the subject line of an email from Van Dyke’s, I lean against the wall to keep my legs from buckling.

  Contract UK4167915: cancellation clause activation

  This is the contract we’ve already spent thousands on, commissioning our garment suppliers to make the clothing. The contract Tom and I remortgaged our house to fulfil.

  I’d hoped – I’d really hoped – that because so much of our business is done online via the website, it might just be possible to recover from the fire.

  Our existing stock has been destroyed, but we’ve had an unbelievable stroke of luck because the Van Dyke clothing order has not yet been delivered and so wasn’t in the lock-up when it was burned out.

  Despite all this, it seems that lots of our clients have somehow heard about our involvement in the investigation into Bessie Wilford’s death, and I’m not sure how that can be.

  Yes, we do a great deal of business in the local area and it’s highly possible that word has reached those customers. But the bigger contracts are with companies much further afield, some of them in Europe.

  None of the newspaper reports I’ve seen so far have flagged InsideOut4Kids as being our business. Have I underestimated the power of the Internet… or could there something more sinister at play here?

  Beth hasn’t informed me about any of these worrying emails, which have all been opened. I know she’s screening stuff she thinks I’m going to find upsetting, but it’s made me feel even worse discovering it like this. And I can’t just forget it.

  Instead of turning off my phone like I know I should do, I open Safari and go to my list of bookmarks for websites that are important to our reputation. A lot of these are review sites like Trustpilot, where customers can leave testimonials about how they found our service and the quality of the products.

  New companies we approach, who don’t know our outstanding reputation, often refer to review sites to give them the overview on how we treat our customers and judge whether orders are promptly fulfilled.

  I tap the business name into the search bar and immediately see that our rating has suffered a catastrophic plunge from 4.6 to 2.9 in less than two days. When I click on the link, I count eight one-star reviews in the most recent posts. One star is the lowest rating it’s possible to give.

  The anonymous reviews all start with a scathing opinion on our clothes, and then mention Bessie Wilford’s death complete with links to news articles. If the same person has posted all of them – and the reviews do look suspiciously similar – it’s someone who knows how important positive feedback is to us.

  Chloe’s face flashes in my mind again, her distant, evasive behaviour the last couple of months: having the odd day or two off, forgetting to renew the insurance policy.

  What would she gain by ruining me?

  Then I catch myself. We may have our differences but we are sisters. The business provides Chloe with a living too.

  I pick up my phone and call Beth. She answers on the second ring and I blurt everything out to her.

  ‘So despite promising to leave the business stuff to me, you went and had a good look anyway?’ She sighs. ‘Juliet, I know it looks bad, and it is bad. But even something as terrible as what happened to Bessie Wilford will be fish and chip paper soon. You just have to give it time to blow over. Trust me.’

  ‘But it’s worse now, Beth. Maddy has confessed to hurting Bessie and they’re interviewing the two of them again. If she doesn’t speak up and tell them everything, they could well charge her.’

  ‘Surely they wouldn’t charge her with such scant details? The truth has got to come out soon and I can’t believe either of the girls did anything wrong.’

  Something closes in my throat like a fist. I take a breath and swallow down the wave of nausea spreading rapidly through my chest.

  ‘She’s going to get the blame for it, Beth. I just know it.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous! She’s a child, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t do it… Maddy can’t have done something like that.’

  ‘We know that, but they don’t.’

  ‘Look, the one thing you can do for yourself is to put the business right out of your head. I’ll do my very best for you, you know that. You’re causing yourself undue distress by dipping in and out like this.’

  ‘I know, and I’m so grateful for all you’re doing, Beth. It might sound silly but I really feel like Mum and Dad are siding with Chloe and Brianna now, and Tom’s all over the place at the minute. He just doesn’t seem like himself at all.’

  ‘To be fair, under the circumstances…’

  ‘Yes, I know. But I need his support and I’m not feeling it. I’ve put so much into the business for so long, it keeps pulling me back. It’s something I might just be able to control, in the middle of my life falling to pieces. That was until I saw how dire things are.’

  ‘I’m trying to warn you off taking an interest, so I shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve spoken to Van Dyke’s and the big order is definitely going through. The goods have cleared Customs and should be dispatched by road very soon.’

  Relief washes over me like a healing balm. The cancelled contracts are tiny compared to the Van Dyke order. That contract alone is big enough to keep the balance sheet looking healthy for the next twelve months.

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ I fight back tears of gratitude. ‘Beth, I can’t thank you enough. I—’

  ‘No thanks required. I’ll get this contract fulfilled even if I have to sell my soul in the process.’

  ‘Thanks for telling me,’ I say sheepishly. ‘I promise I’ll stop peeking at the emails, now.’

  ‘Good. You’ve got enough on your plate. Just concentrate on getting Maddy home. And Juliet?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Look after yourself, too.’

  ‘Thanks, Beth. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you looking after Josh. He’s had a bit of a hard time on the coach trip home.’

  ‘Just focus on yourself and your family,’ she says. ‘That’s what’s really important.’

  I hesitate, wondering whether to articulate my wild suspicions about my own sister. I decide against it and push the thought away, for now. Beth, like Tom, already thinks I’m flaky and finding it hard to cope.

  Forty-Six

  The police station

  Neary asked Dana to sit in on the witness interview back at the police station.

  ‘It will be interesting to hear his take on how the girls were acting when he saw them,’ he added.

  She nodded, pleased. Any detail, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant, might help shed a little light on the case.

  Peter Brewer was a short, stocky man in his mid forties with wiry salt-and-pepper hair. He wore dark brown trousers and a checked shirt and carried a battered brown leather satchel.

  Dana watched as the kitchen salesman wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was obviously uncomfortable being summoned to the police station.

  ‘Sorry.’ He tugged at the collar of his creased shirt. ‘Haven’t had a chance to get changed yet. I came straight over here soon as I got back from my work trip.’

  ‘And we’re very grateful you did, Mr Brewer.’ Neary nodded. ‘So, if you could start by telling us exactly what
happened yesterday, please.’

  ‘I usually have at least one night away from home during the week,’ Peter began. ‘This week it was Newcastle. I worked from home during the morning and set off about midday. I had a client meeting at teatime and then dinner with our biggest supplier last night.’

  Neary nodded while March made notes.

  ‘I came out of the house initially to put my case and some door samples in the car, and that’s when the movement across the street caught my eye.’

  ‘When you say movement, are you referring to the two girls?’

  ‘No, actually. There was no sign of the kids at that point.’

  Neary leaned forward. ‘So where did the movement come from?’

  ‘Someone was in Mrs Wilford’s front garden. They had their back to me and they were just sort of standing there.’

  ‘Can you describe this person? Adult? Male or female?’

  ‘Adult and possibly male. I… I’m not sure. Sorry.’ Peter looked sheepish. ‘I just sort of glanced in the direction of the movement and then thought nothing more of it.’

  ‘Did it not bother you that someone was lurking in an elderly woman’s garden?’

  ‘No, not really.’ Peter looked flushed. ‘I mean, some of the older people on the street have a gardener for a couple of hours a week, that sort of thing. There’s never any trouble on our road.’

  Neary frowned at the irony but didn’t comment.

  Peter opened his mouth and closed it again. Waited.

  ‘Can you recall what the person was wearing? Was it dark or light clothing?’ Neary tried again to glean any possible shred of detail.

  ‘A dark T-shirt, I think, maybe long-sleeved, and a baseball cap… Yes, a dark baseball cap.’ Peter looked pained. ‘Bessie’s hedges are a bit overgrown. I could only see the upper part of the person. But as I said, I didn’t really take anything in. I wish I had.’

  ‘So you took the stuff out to the car and spotted someone in Bessie’s front garden,’ DS March recapped. ‘Then what?’

  ‘I went back inside to do a last-minute check that I’d turned everything off in the house. I grabbed my satchel and keys, and then I left. Locked the front door and opened the driver’s-side door, and that’s when I saw the two girls skipping down the street.’

  ‘And the person standing in Bessie’s garden… were they still there?’ DS March asked.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t notice.’

  ‘The girls, then?’ Neary prompted.

  ‘They looked quite happy, I could hear them chanting or singing and they were holding hands as they skipped along. I remember thinking how bright and sunny they looked… their clothes, I mean. Dressed for the nice weather.’

  Dana replayed his words in her mind. Singing… skipping along, holding hands. The same two girls who had then abruptly stopped speaking and turned against each other.

  ‘Did you speak to them?’ March asked.

  Peter shook his head. ‘You can’t say hello to kids you don’t know these days unless you want to look like a pervert.’ Neary raised an eyebrow. ‘Sorry, it’s true, though. They were still skipping towards Bessie’s house as I got into the car. When I turned the car around at the end of the street, they were standing at the gate. I think one of the girls had her hand on it. After that, I set off and never gave it another thought.’

  ‘Just to confirm, you didn’t notice if there was still a person in the front garden at that point?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I only saw the two girls.’

  Was it possible, Dana wondered, that someone else had seen the girls enter the house at the time of Bessie Wilford’s attack? If so, why hadn’t they come forward yet?

  Forty-Seven

  The village

  Dana hadn’t been back in the village long after leaving the station when she got the call.

  She and Lizzie were just about to enter the small brasserie when Dana sighed as she glanced at the screen.

  ‘I’m not answering that.’

  ‘Go on, you might as well.’ Lizzie nudged her. ‘Otherwise you’ll be wondering all through brunch.’

  It was true. Dana had met this wonderful woman just two weeks earlier and she already seemed to understand her perfectly.

  Lizzie tipped her head to one side and watched with amusement, a wry smile playing on her lips, as Dana answered the call and conducted her one-way conversation.

  ‘Hello, Conor. Right now?… I can’t, I’m just about to have food. Hang on.’

  She took the phone away from her ear and pressed the mute button.

  ‘It’s Neary. He said he wouldn’t need me until later this morning but he’s asking if I can get over to the detention centre in half an hour.’ She bit down on her back teeth. Getting some time with Lizzie was proving to be quite the challenge.

  ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘It’s not really OK. We’ve had this table booked for over a week. It’ll be another week before we can arrange the time again, and I really wanted to—’

  ‘Dana. It’s fine.’ Lizzie smiled and laid her hand on Dana’s upper arm. ‘Really. We can do this any time, it’s not a problem.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Go!’

  Dana pressed the button and lifted the phone to her ear again.

  ‘I’m on my way,’ she said, before adding, ‘You owe me, Neary.’

  Lizzie asked to be dropped off at the shopping mall on the way.

  ‘I’ll only be there an hour,’ Dana told her. ‘You could come with me, grab a coffee or something, and then we can go for something to eat afterwards.’

  Lizzie grinned. ‘Tempting as the offer to visit the detention centre is, I’ll pass. Has Neary got a problem for you to sort out?’

  ‘He wants to interview the girls again, separately this time.’

  ‘But it’s clear-cut now, isn’t it? One of them confessed.’

  ‘Maddy Fletcher.’ Dana nodded. ‘Yes, it should be straightforward if the forensics back it up, but one kid’s accusation against another isn’t enough. There’s something just a bit off about the whole thing, the family vibe. There’s something that we’re not seeing. Neary agrees we need more information before he makes the final charge.’

  Lizzie glanced at her as they walked. ‘A bit off? Like what?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Just a feeling that they’re keeping something from us.’

  ‘But the girl has confessed. Period. The sooner Neary lets the law take its course, the sooner you can get on with your life.’

  The voice of reason she’d been missing in her life. Dana pulled her keys from her bag and unlocked the car. She could understand Lizzie’s frustration completely.

  ‘If only it were that easy,’ she said wearily.

  * * *

  Dana signed in at the centre’s reception and Neary appeared from his office, taking long strides up the corridor to meet her.

  ‘We’ll speak to Maddy Fletcher first,’ he said. ‘Then Brianna Voce. But if her mother starts being difficult like last time, I’m going to ask her to leave the room.’

  His jaw was set, his eyes slightly glazed over and Dana recognised the signs. He was keenly focused, desperate to make the right call in respect of Maddy’s confession and Brianna’s accusation.

  In a side office, he indicated for her to sit before slumping down himself in a chair.

  ‘OK, so here’s where we’re at. March and I have spoken to the super and she’s given us one last chance to talk to the girls.’ He picked up a ballpoint pen and studied the nib intently. ‘If we can’t get anything else and the kid is still confessing, the super’s adamant we charge her with manslaughter.’

  Dana sighed. She shared Neary’s misgivings about issuing a charge at this point.

  ‘I know, I know. But I can see the super’s side of things too. The locals and the press are baying for blood. We don’t want to charge the wrong kid, but we can’t be seen to be dragging our feet either. We’re expecting comprehensive forensics back within the hour.
’

  ‘If Maddy had kept quiet, you’d have been forced to release them after thirty-six hours,’ Dana pointed out.

  ‘If the forensics didn’t support our case, yes. But Bessie Wilford was a much-loved member of the community and we can’t appear to be showing leniency when things seem so straightforward, on the surface at least. Thank God the press don’t know about Maddy’s confession.’

  Dana nodded.

  ‘So in terms of these final interviews, I want to go in quite hard. That OK with you?’

  She pulled the corners of her mouth down and shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not.’

  ‘It’s for their own good; the only way we stand any chance of getting to the truth.’ He let the pen drop from his fingers. ‘In your opinion, are they capable of withstanding tougher questioning?’

  ‘I’ve not noted any signs to the contrary,’ Dana replied. ‘They both seem fairly well adjusted and competent.’

  ‘Exactly. Not the sort of girls to batter an old lady to death, eh?’

  She raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement of the irony and stood up.

  Together they made their way to the centre’s interview room.

  Forty-Eight

  The juvenile centre

  Brianna Voce sat with her mother on the low upholstered seats. DC Carol Hall sat a little further back from them.

  Dana met Chloe’s belligerent stare and gifted her most compassionate smile. Nobody wanted their child to be disbelieved or made to feel uncomfortable, but this was one of those occasions when Neary and his team really had no choice.

  Maddy Fletcher was Chloe’s niece, after all. Surely Chloe was concerned that she should get a fair hearing? Or maybe not. This was a strange family, and Dana clearly hadn’t got to the bottom of it yet.

  Neary began.

  ‘We’re going to ask you some questions, Brianna, and it’s very important that you tell us the truth. If you don’t know something, say so. If you do, give us as much detail as you can. Is that clear?’