The Secret

by Debbie Howells

  ‘It’s really important, Niamh. If I come with you, could we try to find it?’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elise

  Unfortunately, DS May hasn’t finished. She’s frowning as she fiddles with her pen. ‘Niamh, you told us before that Hollie used to go into other people’s properties.’

  Niamh nods. ‘She didn’t do any harm. She just walked around.’

  ‘Did the two of you go anywhere else in the village?’

  As Niamh’s pale cheeks tinge with pink, shock washes over me. After the forged email to the school, what else don’t I know about my daughter?

  ‘We went to Deeprose House once. It was a while before she disappeared. We were only there a few minutes and we didn’t do anything. I told Hollie I didn’t think we should be there.’ Niamh looks at me. ‘I’ve told you … I really don’t know anything else. I wish I’d gone to school that day.’

  ‘Hollie could be very persuasive,’ I tell DS May and Sergeant Collins.

  ‘So it seems. What was it about the house through the woods that made Hollie want to take you there?’ DS May’s voice is gentler as she addresses Niamh.

  Niamh’s silent for a moment. ‘She didn’t say. And there wasn’t anything to see there.’ She shrugs. ‘It was just a house.’

  ‘Can you describe it?’

  ‘It was big.’ Niamh frowns. ‘The garden was massive. Hollie said you could see our house from there – but I couldn’t.’

  DS May makes a note. ‘You’re sure?’ When Niamh nods, she goes on. ‘Can you remember anything unusual about it?’

  ‘Not really. Only that it seemed really big. Otherwise it was like the other houses around here.’

  DS May changes track. ‘Hollie always came here, didn’t she? Rather than you going to her house?’

  ‘Hollie’s father works from home,’ I supply. ‘The girls weren’t bothering anyone here – both Andrew and I are out most days.’

  She turns her attention to me. ‘How often are you away, Mrs Buckley?’

  Her scrutiny makes me uncomfortable. ‘It varies. Mostly, my flights are short haul. Sometimes I’m away overnight, but it’s rare.’

  ‘I see.’ Nodding, she goes on. ‘And what about the Monday, the day before Hollie disappeared? Did you see her?’

  I watch as Niamh starts.

  ‘I think I was working. I need to check my flight schedule again.’ Getting up, I go to get my phone, clicking on my calendar. ‘I had an eight thirty check-in for a flight to Malaga. I would have left the house by six thirty and got home around five that evening.’

  ‘Could you send us a copy of your schedule for our records? That way, we can rule out the need to question you further.’

  I realise that everyone is potentially a suspect at this stage but with the spotlight turned on me, I feel uneasy. ‘Yes. Of course. You’re questioning everyone in the village, I assume?’

  DS May leans forward. ‘Yes, Mrs Buckley. Until Hollie’s murderer is found, we will continue talking to everyone in this village and in her life. Somebody, somewhere, must know something.’

  Her words make me uncomfortable. Both Stephanie and I are keeping information from the police, information they need. Hollie’s funeral is two days away. Two days – after that, I’ll tell them everything.

  DS May turns to Niamh again. ‘We have about an hour of daylight. Can you try to take us to the house Hollie took you to?’

  *

  We follow Niamh through the village, past the turning into Greyfriars Lane. Reaching the woods, she stops.

  ‘I think it was this path.’ She sounds far from certain.

  DS May nods. ‘Shall we carry on?’

  The ground is damp underfoot as we take a narrow path through the trees, their canopy of branches blocking out the light. When we come to where the path intersects with others, Niamh stops again, a frown crossing her face. ‘I can’t remember which way she went.’

  DS May looks at me. ‘Do you know these woods?’

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t.’ These paths are too narrow and dark. When I run, I like to have space around me.

  She gets out her phone. ‘I’ll save the location. We’ll come back in daylight and check this out.’

  *

  After the police have gone, I turn to Niamh. ‘I can’t believe you and Hollie went onto other people’s properties. How many other times have there been?’

  She shakes her head. ‘None. And like I said, we didn’t do any harm. It’s not like there’s anything else to do around here.’

  ‘Niamh, that doesn’t mean it’s OK to trespass on private land—’

  But our conversation ends prematurely. As I’m speaking, Andrew’s car swings into the drive and Niamh gets up and runs upstairs.

  *

  Thursday arrives, the day of Hollie’s funeral, and for a short while the rain lets up, leaving a watery sky broken by rays of weak sunlight. The path to the churchyard is sodden underfoot as we join the small crowd assembled outside the church, all of us pausing our lives to spend this hour to remember Hollie, while the thought occurs to me. Hollie’s killer could be among us and no-one would know.

  We wait while Hollie’s coffin is carried into the church, and as it passes, I notice the posy on top, made up of the spring flowers in delicate shades I saw at Stephanie’s salon last Friday, that seem somehow befitting of Hollie’s ethereal beauty and free spirit.

  Inside, my eyes wander towards the front of the congregation, where I catch a glimpse of the back of Stephanie’s head as she stands next to James. I think of her determination not to let anything get in the way of today happening the way she wanted it to. Each step of the way, she’s held her husband’s hand, her show of solidarity with James unfaltering, as though united in their grief. No-one would guess what’s really going on between them.

  When it’s time for the eulogy, James stands up. You could hear a pin drop as he walks to the front of the church and talks about the pain of losing the daughter he’ll always miss, then asks for everyone to be patient and give them time to grieve. His eyes flicker over the congregation, pausing on me. In that second, I know Stephanie’s told him that she confided in me.

  Whatever the circumstances, whatever wrong James may have done, I can’t help but imagine how he’s feeling today. Around me, the service leaves no-one unmoved – well, almost no-one. To my right, Andrew is tall and sombre in his black suit and tie, an expression of sorrow on his face that only I know he isn’t capable of feeling. As I glance at Niamh’s fair head on my other side, there’s a lump in my throat as I wish yet again that I could protect her from all of this.

  *

  As everyone files outside after the funeral, I see DS May and Sergeant Collins standing together on the fringes of the small crowd. On the other side of the churchyard are two more uniformed officers. Whether they’re expecting trouble and playing it safe, or merely observing us, their presence is nonetheless unnerving.

  While Andrew plays the concerned mourner, I pause, watching DS May’s eyes fix on James, with his head bowed and shoulders slumped, before her gaze moves to Stephanie, with her hair newly coloured and wearing an understated navy dress, as she stands at her husband’s side. Despite her confession to me, it doesn’t at all look like she’s about to leave him.

  Della walks towards me. ‘God-awful day, isn’t it, Elise?’ Leaning forward, she kisses me on both cheeks. ‘Sorry I missed you when you came round. Julian was a bit worried, actually. He said he thought you were upset.’

  ‘It was one of those days,’ I say evasively. ‘I can’t even remember what was going through my mind. You’re right, though. Today’s a terrible day. It doesn’t get much worse.’

  Della gives me an odd look. ‘Are you coming to the pub? James and Stephanie have invited everyone.’

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t think so.’ After the funeral, the last thing I feel like doing is being in a crowded pub with people I don’t want to talk to. Across the churchyard, I catch sight of Phil M
ason – the man James was speaking to at the service two Sundays ago – now talking to someone I don’t know. Then I notice James glance towards Mason, his face clouding over as he takes Stephanie’s arm and steers her away.

  It could be something or nothing, but James clearly doesn’t want anything to do with Mason. ‘James doesn’t seem too pleased to see Phil Mason. Do you know him?’

  Della stares at him. ‘Julian does. Actually, you may have met him, Elise. A year ago – at our summer party. Why?’

  As she says this, pieces start falling into place. I remember drinking too much wine to numb the stultifying boredom of another village social gathering, drifting away from everyone else to pour another glass.

  I shrug. ‘I don’t remember seeing him around before, that’s all. What does he do?’ My voice is purposefully casual.

  Della frowns. ‘He works for some software company. Don’t ask me for details – you know what I’m like with anything technical. But he’s done well out of it. It’s made him quite a wealthy man.’

  I’m silent as I study him, wondering if it’s him who’s blackmailing James. But if that were the case, surely Mason wouldn’t show his face here?

  I feel myself shiver as Stephanie’s voice comes from behind me. ‘Are you joining us at the pub, Elise?’

  Turning, I realise what today is taking from her; that however united she and James may appear, the truth of what she’s going through is in the desperation flickering in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ I hedge, floundering around for a believable excuse. ‘I won’t be able to. To be honest, I don’t want to leave Niamh alone.’

  ‘Niamh is welcome, too.’ It’s a mixed message. She wants me close – but not too close. I know too much.

  ‘Thank you. But I think I’ll take her home. It’s a difficult day for her, as it is for everyone – especially you and James …’

  Stephanie’s eyes fill with tears. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘Your flowers were beautiful,’ I say quietly. ‘I’ll come over to the salon in the next few days, if you’ll be there?’

  As she starts, I realise she’s worried I’m giving away what she told me in confidence. ‘I’ll be there. I’m hardly going to be anywhere else.’ Her voice is overly bright.

  I know the lie is for Della’s benefit, as well as for anyone else who might be eavesdropping, and as her eyes catch mine, I again see the depth of her desperation.

  ‘I should go and find James,’ she mutters, already turning to walk away.

  There’s a strange atmosphere as Della and I stand there, but I’m not prepared for what happens next. Over everyone’s heads, I glimpse Andrew in what appears to be an amicable enough conversation with Phil Mason across the churchyard. I then notice James watching them. Shaking hands with Mason, Andrew turns and walks away just as Stephanie reaches James’s side. He takes her hand as he glares at Andrew, the look in his eyes one of pure hatred.

  Knowing Andrew will go to the pub with everyone else, Niamh and I leave the church, my sense of unease building. As we walk home, it begins to rain, the force of it rapidly intensifying so that we only just make it back before it becomes a downpour. Niamh goes upstairs to change while I put the kettle on and make a pot of coffee, my head buzzing with thoughts of Hollie’s funeral.

  As I go back over what I saw, I become more convinced there’s something going on between James and Phil Mason. I already know from Stephanie what James is embroiled in. Then there’s the argument I stumbled upon that day in the woods, between James and some unidentified person. Could that have been Mason? There’s also Mason’s wealth, which Della hinted at, to consider. But quite how this all adds up, I’m not sure.

  Thinking back to what Stephanie told me about James’s so-called investment and how it’s bankrupted them, my blood runs cold. If Andrew had got involved in something similar, would I know?

  The truth is, I wouldn’t. I don’t know half of what he does.

  With Niamh up in her bedroom, I go quietly to Andrew’s study, closing the door behind me before sitting at his desk. Opening the drawers, I glance at the few letters inside, which appear innocuous. But there isn’t a lot to find – if Andrew was involved in anything nefarious, he’d be meticulous about covering his tracks.

  My eyes scan the shelves behind his desk, but if I do find anything here, I know it will be because he wants me to. I wonder if he knows about the mess James has got himself into. Judging from the look James gave him, there’s clearly ill-feeling between them. Maybe I should ask Stephanie if she knows why.

  Leaving everything as I found it, I close the study door behind me. But my suspicions have taken root and even though it’s risking Andrew’s temper, I want to know more. It’s late when he comes back from the pub stinking of whisky and cigarette smoke, slurring his words.

  ‘What’s for dinner, Elise?’

  Dinner’s long gone. Niamh and I ate two hours ago. ‘I assumed you were eating at the pub.’ I watch him get a glass and pour himself a large Scotch. ‘I didn’t realise you knew Phil Mason,’ I say calmly. ‘Are he and James friends? I assumed they must be, otherwise why else would he have been at the funeral?’

  Turning around, he puts his glass down, his eyes narrowing as he comes over and stands in front of me. ‘It’s a small village, Elise. Of course I know him. What exactly are you trying to say?’

  I don’t miss the warning note in his voice, but before I can speak, he goes on. ‘A word to the wise: Phil’s a powerful man. He’s not the kind of person you go around asking questions about.’ His voice is menacing. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

  I stare at him. Is he saying Mason’s the person who involved James in this scam? But if there’s something going on, if Andrew’s involved too, I want to know. ‘That’s a little melodramatic, Andrew. This is Abingworth, for God’s sake. You’re making him sound like a Mafia boss.’

  But he’s too drunk for rational conversation. His eyes flash dangerously. ‘You have no idea, do you?’ he sneers. ‘But how could you? Face it, Elise, your pathetic little life is so cut off from the real world.’

  After years of him talking to me this way, his words bounce off me. Even in this state, he isn’t going to tell me what I want to know. Not wishing to escalate things, I cut him short. ‘It was an innocent question, Andrew. If you’re hungry, there’s cold chicken in the fridge. I’m going to bed.’ As I walk out, I wait for him to lumber after me, steeling myself for his hand gripping one of my arms then twisting it; for one of his blows.

  At the door, I glance back to see him knocking back his whisky, praying that it’s one of those nights he’ll be too drunk to make it upstairs.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jo

  Hollie Hampton’s murder remains unsolved, but it’s more than that, that frustrates me. Usually the whole world has an opinion on what’s going on with a murder investigation, but not in Abingworth. They’re too reticent, too reluctant to talk – about almost anything.

  ‘It’s as though there’s some unspoken agreement, sir. Either that, or a secret they’re all in on.’

  The DI looks nonplussed. ‘Operation Rainbow, Jo … Have you identified the man who tried to lure the two young women?’

  I shake my head. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘What about the house where the party was supposedly being held? Any clues yet?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I pause. ‘Niamh Buckley told us Hollie took her to a house on the edge of the village and I think there’s more she’s not telling us. She says she doesn’t know who the house belongs to. Apparently Hollie took her there through some woods. Niamh tried to show me which way they went, but there are paths leading off in every direction and she can’t remember which one they took. I’ve got the approximate location – I’m going to ask Emerson to go back over there and take a look.’

  ‘Good. Right now, Jo, anything’s worth trying.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is how someone could be getting away with abducting young women and taking them to a house around here
without anyone in the village noticing something – unless all of them are involved, which is unlikely.’

  ‘Villages …’ Going over to the window, the DI stands there for a moment before turning to look at me. ‘On the one hand, they’re small enough that everyone knows everyone else, but on the other, there are those big, hidden-away houses, plenty of which have no neighbours. If anything was going on behind those hedges and walls, no-one would know. Park House is a good example of that.’

  ‘Sir, there are other houses near Park House. And no other road in.’

  ‘I’m not suggesting anything’s going on there specifically, May. It just seems too much of a coincidence that Hollie’s body was found in the same area we believe the porn ring to be based.’ He frowns. ‘The only evidence we do have suggests there was a private party being held in Abingworth … Again, hearsay rather than proof. We haven’t questioned any of the villagers about this so far, have we?’

  ‘Not yet. We’ve been trying not to alert whoever’s behind this.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s time to start asking. Stir things up a bit.’

  ‘It’s always possible there is no link between Hollie’s death and Operation Rainbow, sir.’

  ‘Yes.’ He doesn’t sound convinced, and like him, I have my doubts. ‘Niamh Buckley … So you think she knows more about Hollie’s death than she’s saying?’

  ‘I suspect so. Her loyalty to Hollie is commendable, if a little misguided, given the circumstances. But she’s fourteen years old and her friend has just died – she’s scared.’

  ‘Maybe talk to her again. Win her trust, May. What about the mother?’

  ‘The last time I saw Elise Buckley, she had half a bottle of Prosecco inside her. She’s protective of her daughter. But on the whole, she seems fairly black and white.’

  ‘And her husband?’

  ‘Andrew Buckley’s the local GP. He’s business-like, professional – and busy. I’ve only spoken to him on the phone so far.’

  Leaning back in his chair, the DI clasps his hands behind his head. ‘Tell me about the funeral.’