The Secret

by Debbie Howells

  Folding his arms, Mason sits back. ‘I have nothing to say.’

  The DI doesn’t falter. ‘I think we should talk about Hollie Hampton.’

  Mason looks visibly shocked, but the DI goes on. ‘Did you pay her? Or did she try to buy you off?’

  As Mason frowns, the DI goes on. ‘She came to you, didn’t she? She’d found out what her father had got involved in and she knew you were blackmailing him. Maybe she offered you photographs in exchange for releasing him. But you wanted it all, didn’t you? Killing Hollie allowed you to keep her photos and also continue to blackmail her father.’

  ‘That’s ludicrous.’ But after his earlier performance, it’s impossible to know if Mason’s look of shock is genuine.

  ‘Is it? We know you persuaded people like James Hampton to invest in your porn business. We also know that if they decide they want out – maybe because child pornography is a step too far for most people – you refuse to return their investment and then you blackmail them.’

  I study Mason’s face. ‘James Hampton asked to meet you, didn’t he? In private.’ I’m thinking of what Elise saw in the woods. ‘He begged you to give him his money back. But you refused, didn’t you?’

  Mason looks shifty. ‘Is that what he told you?’

  ‘You were seen, Mr Mason. By one of the villagers, who said the exchange between you looked as though it got quite heated before you drove away. Or do you have a different version of events?’

  After glancing sideways at his lawyer, Mason starts speaking. ‘I did meet Hampton – it’s hardly a crime. And I admit to some of the photographs – all of consenting adults. But I can’t claim to know what goes on when I’m not there.’

  ‘They’re on your premises, on your machines.’ The DI’s voice is sharp. ‘And we’re talking about more than distributing. Evidence suggests they were taken there. Where did the children come from, Mr Mason?’

  Mason folds his arms. ‘I’ve never handled child pornography.’ He pauses. ‘That’s all I can tell you.’

  ‘I see.’ The DI sounds sceptical. ‘So, if it wasn’t you, perhaps you can tell me who is responsible.’

  Mason stays silent.

  ‘For God’s sake, Mason.’ The DI looks disgusted. ‘You’re doing yourself no favours here. You’re already facing charges of possession and distribution of pornographic images of children. Then there’s deception, blackmail … It’s already quite a list.’

  But Mason says nothing further.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Elise

  Niamh grabs my arm, tears streaming down her face. ‘You can’t do this. He’s going to kill you.’

  I stare at her, suddenly realising I’ve completely misunderstood the way she’s been thinking. She hasn’t been frightened for herself, she’s terrified for me. As it sinks in that she believes her father is capable of killing me, I know a new level of despair. No child should have to carry a weight like that.

  ‘Niamh … he won’t, he can’t …’

  ‘He will!’ She sobs. ‘You know what he’s like. He doesn’t care what he does to you.’

  I’ve never seen her so emotional. It’s as though everything she’s bottled up inside for too long is erupting from her. I try to grab her hands. ‘Niamh. Stop. This isn’t helping.’

  ‘Neither will leaving,’ she cries. ‘It will make everything worse. You know it will. We have to stay.’

  As I stare at my daughter, I know she believes what she’s saying, but I have no idea how to respond. ‘It may seem like that now, but it won’t always feel like this. The last few days have been horrible – I know that. But the police are behind us and once we’re away from here, you’ll feel different. Everything passes, Niamh. Everything.’

  As she calms slightly, I take a deep breath. ‘Whatever your father told you and everyone else, I had nothing to do with what happened to Dylan.’

  I hear her sharp intake of breath as her eyes look up at mine. ‘I know he took my pills. But I kept them hidden in the bedroom. I honestly don’t recall leaving them out.’ It’s true. I don’t. But I’m not absolving myself of responsibility. I can’t.

  Another sob escapes her. ‘It was an accident,’ I tell her gently. ‘One that should never have happened.’

  Niamh stares at me. ‘You don’t know, do you?’

  I frown at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

  She looks stricken. ‘About what he told Dylan. It wasn’t an accident – not the way everyone thinks.’ Words tumble out of her, more words than she’s spoken in weeks, and my blood runs cold as Niamh tells me what she heard Andrew talking to Dylan about shortly before he killed himself.

  How he told Dylan he was ashamed of him; that he would never be anyone Andrew could feel proud of. That it would be better for everyone if Dylan was dead.

  My hatred of Andrew reaches new levels, my heart breaking all over again as I think about what Dylan must have gone through. Then I think of what Andrew has put Niamh through, what she’s kept silently, painfully, to herself since before Dylan died. ‘You should have told me this a long time ago.’ Suddenly I pull off my wedding ring. ‘The police need to know everything.’

  ‘No.’ The fear is back in Niamh’s eyes.

  ‘Niamh. He pushed Dylan over the edge. It’s the same emotional abuse he inflicts on us. It’s why Dylan took an overdose. This is really important.’

  ‘The police can’t know.’ Niamh’s eyes are like a rabbit’s caught in the headlights of a car. ‘Not ever.’

  ‘Why not?’ I study her face, puzzled. ‘What haven’t you told me?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She shakes her head, the shutters coming down.

  I know she’s lying.

  Giving Niamh some space, I put the kettle on and make two mugs of tea, taking them over to her when they’re ready.

  ‘Here.’ Passing her one, I sit down next to her. ‘Niamh, what you’ve just told me strengthens the case against your father, making it easier for the police to charge him.’

  She shakes her head. ‘I won’t talk to them.’

  ‘I understand,’ I say softly. ‘But if you agree to let me, I’ll talk to DS May. I’ll tell her some of what you’ve said, but I’ll also tell her how frightened of him you are. You’ve been through so much, Niamh. She’ll understand.’ I pause. ‘It might even mean we can stay here.’

  As we sit there a little longer, I pray to God that Andrew doesn’t get out, because Niamh’s right. There’s no question that if Andrew comes after me now, it will be far worse than the last time. But I can’t let my fear stop me. The time to do this is now, while the police are still holding him. Eventually she nods, and I get my phone.

  *

  DS May arrives an hour later. As she comes into the kitchen, I notice her long hair isn’t as tidy as usual and that there are dark circles under her eyes. From what she’s said, I know this case reminds her of what’s happened in her own life. It’s taking its toll on all of us.

  ‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’

  She nods. ‘I’d love one. How are you both?’

  ‘We’re OK.’ I glance at Niamh, then back to DS May. ‘We’ve packed. But there’s something I have to tell you. It’s a conversation Niamh overheard between Andrew and Dylan, just before he died.’

  DS May frowns. ‘Niamh? Can you tell me what he said?’

  ‘She’d rather I tell you,’ I say, then repeat what Niamh told me earlier.

  There’s an expression of revulsion on DS May’s face as she makes notes. ‘I take it your father had no idea you overheard?’

  Niamh shakes her head, an anxious look on her face.

  DS May hesitates. ‘Did Hollie know about what he said to Dylan?’

  Niamh looks away without speaking.

  ‘Niamh? It’s OK to tell me. Did Hollie know?’

  Slowly Niamh nods, then a single tear rolls down her cheek. ‘We were talking about Dylan and I didn’t mean to, but I told her.’

  ‘So Hollie knew what your father said to Dyl
an?’ When Niamh nods again, DS May asks, ‘Do you remember when you told her?’

  ‘Last year.’ Niamh sounds so very young.

  DS May’s gaze doesn’t waver. ‘This may sound trivial, but do you remember when exactly?’

  Niamh shrugs. ‘It was the 10th of May – Dylan’s birthday. We were remembering him.’

  ‘Thank you. You mustn’t worry about your father harming either of you.’ She turns from Niamh’s pinched face to look at me. ‘We have evidence from the hospital, statements from both of you – and now, this. We’ll be holding him overnight again and almost certainly will be charging him.’

  Thinking of Andrew’s fury at being held by the police, I feel myself shiver. ‘What happens then?’

  ‘Most likely he’ll be remanded in custody.’

  ‘Does that mean he won’t be coming back?’ I try to take in what she’s saying. ‘So can’t we stay here?’

  ‘I’ll keep you in the picture, but I think it would be wise to go away, just for a few days, until formal charges are brought against him. And I need to know the number of work days you’ve missed, as well as other occasions when he’s assaulted you in the past. I’m guessing he’s kept your medical records clean to cover himself, but the airline you work for will have logged it. Do you have a phone number of anyone I can speak to there?’

  Nodding, I get my phone, bringing up the number of my fleet manager. ‘She’ll have a record of all my sick days.’ I pause. ‘Can we stay here tonight, at least? I think Niamh needs a little more time before we leave.’

  She hesitates. ‘You’ll be fine if you want to stay until the morning – but I’d still recommend you move out first thing – and if I were you, I’d make an appointment to see a lawyer.’

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Jo

  Even with mounting evidence against Andrew Buckley, I worry for Elise and Niamh. There is still an outside chance his lawyer could get him out.

  When I tell the DI what Niamh said, he shakes his head in disbelief. ‘We’re holding him tonight, on suspicion that he’s connected to Mason’s business. But regardless, he’ll be charged with assault.’

  ‘I advised Elise Buckley that she was OK to stay in the house tonight.’

  ‘Fine. But we need them out first thing. We may need to begin searching the house.’

  I nod. ‘They have somewhere to go. She knows we’re holding him but she’s still terrified he’ll come after her.’

  ‘He won’t be going anywhere.’ The DI frowns. ‘We need to talk to him again. Press Buckley on what Hollie Hampton had against him. We have to get it out of him. Between him and Mason … One of them must have killed her.’

  ‘About the abuse charge … Niamh Buckley just told me something. She said that just before Dylan died, she overheard their father talking to him. Basically, he told Dylan he was a worthless human being and that they’d all be better off if he was dead.’

  ‘Jesus.’ The DI looks appalled.

  ‘I know. Hollie didn’t know about this, according to Niamh, until what would have been his last birthday. They were “remembering him”, as she worded it, when Niamh told Hollie what her father had said. Dylan’s birthday was the 10th of May. It fits with Hollie going to the surgery later that same month and causing trouble for Buckley – and it’s more than enough to give her a motive.’ I pause. ‘Incredible, isn’t it, that someone would speak like that to their own son.’

  ‘Sadly, it’s all too believable.’ The DI’s voice is quiet. ‘We see too many people like Andrew Buckley who are capable of anything.’

  ‘We should talk to James Hampton again, sir. Hollie may have told him something.’

  ‘He hasn’t been exactly forthcoming so far.’ The DI scratches his head. ‘Go and see him. Then when you come back, we’ll talk to Buckley together.’

  *

  As I drive to the custody centre where James Hampton is being held, the sun breaks through the clouds. By the time I arrive, it’s hot outside. In the distance, the sea is a pale shimmer, just about visible before it merges with the sky. Then I glance at the building, thinking of James Hampton waiting in one of its soulless rooms for the next stage of his life to be decided for him – a life inside. One he’s brought upon himself thanks to his own weaknesses and his association with Mason.

  When I reach the room we’ve been assigned, he’s already waiting. When he sees me, there’s a flicker of hope, as if somewhere he entertains the fantasy that this is all a mistake, that I’ve come to get him out of here. Pulling out a chair, I sit opposite him. ‘We’ve been talking to Andrew Buckley.’ A shadow crosses Hampton’s face. ‘You must be aware of the incident when Hollie accused him of inappropriately touching her?’

  When he nods, I go on. ‘He’s adamant he didn’t. I’m not sure we’ll ever know whether he did or not. But …’ I pause for a moment. ‘He said Hollie did it for revenge, because she found out about his affair with Stephanie. It seemed a perfectly reasonable explanation for her behaviour – until we found out the affair hadn’t started at that point. It appears the real reason she wanted to cause him trouble was she’d found out what he said to Dylan just before he died.’ I frown. ‘What did Hollie say to you about Dylan?’

  ‘Not much.’ He looks wretched.

  ‘They were really in love, weren’t they?’

  He looks surprised. ‘I suppose they were.’

  I try to push him. ‘So what went wrong between them? I know Hollie broke it off with him, and he was heartbroken …’

  But James Hampton interrupts. ‘That’s not right. That isn’t what happened. It was Dylan who broke it off. I didn’t know what to do with Hollie, after, and when he died, she went to pieces. I was really worried about her. For a while, I thought she was going to do what he’d done.’

  I stare at him, speechless. ‘Andrew Buckley told me Hollie ended it. Can you think of any reason why he might have lied?’

  ‘Buckley.’ As he says the word, hatred fills his eyes. ‘You can’t believe anything that man says. But if he lied, you can bet there was a reason for it.’

  ‘But you don’t know what that is?’

  He shakes his head, the rage in his eyes now gone. His daughter is dead. So is his wife. It’s as though James Hampton has decided his life is over, too.

  *

  ‘Buckley told me Hollie screwed up his son, Dylan, when she ended their relationship. But according to James Hampton, it was Dylan who called it off,’ I tell the DI. ‘Buckley definitely lied.’

  The DI looks at me sharply. ‘You don’t think it’s Hampton who’s lying?’

  ‘I don’t think he is. And his version would explain what Hollie wrote on Dylan’s Facebook page – all the love messages she sent him – she poured her heart out.’

  He’s silent for a moment. ‘Buckley’s in the interview room with his lawyer. He’s raging to get out of here today, so we need to break the news he won’t be leaving. Are you ready?’

  *

  After being held overnight, Andrew Buckley isn’t his usual immaculately groomed self. When he sees us, he immediately stands. ‘This better not have cost me my job,’ he says menacingly.

  ‘Sit down, Doctor Buckley.’ The DI pulls out a chair. ‘Mr McClure, I suggest you inform your client that the fastest way through this is for him to quickly and accurately answer our questions. Right. Shall we begin?’ He glances at me.

  I wait until there’s quiet before addressing Andrew Buckley. ‘We have a witness who overheard a conversation you had with your son—’

  His eyes glint at me as he interrupts. ‘My son’s dead, Detective Sergeant. There’s no mileage in this.’

  ‘Doctor Buckley, let me finish. You were overheard using abusive language. You told him you were ashamed of him and it would be better for everyone if he was dead. It wasn’t long after that, that he killed himself.’ He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word in, I ask, ‘Why did you lie to us about Hollie ending the relationship with your son? It was Dylan who b
roke it off, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Look, this has absolutely no relevance to what’s happening now.’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ the DI butts in. ‘What we’re hearing is proof of a longstanding pattern of your emotional abuse of your family, not to mention your own unreliability. Go on, May.’

  I continue. ‘You’ve already told us that it was Hollie who messed Dylan up. However, I have it from a reliable source that after Dylan broke it off with her, Hollie was devastated.’

  ‘Then your source is incorrect,’ he says coldly.

  ‘Just as your medical practice had incorrect records of the date Hollie came to see you? And your wife incorrectly remembers how she got all those bruises?’ I say pointedly. ‘Isn’t that rather a lot of other people getting it wrong?’

  For once, he’s silent. The DI takes over. ‘Tell us about Mason, Doctor Buckley. We know he and James Hampton are involved in a business investment. Did either of them ever approach you about it?’

  ‘I’ve told you before, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ His voice is icy.

  The DI gets straight to the point. ‘We’re talking about porn, Doctor Buckley, including pornographic images of children.’

  ‘Do you honestly think I’d get involved in something like that?’ His voice is full of contempt.

  ‘Seeing as we have your phone, and forensics is taking a look, we’ll soon find out. We’ve also seized Mason’s computers. If your name appears anywhere, it’s only a matter of time before we find it.’

  When he doesn’t speak, I go on. ‘Meanwhile, your wife and daughter are staying somewhere else for a while. So far, Doctor Buckley, we will be charging you with controlling and coercive behaviour, as well as assault. Potentially we’re looking at adding possession of child porn and perverting the course of justice, so if you know anything about Mason’s business, now would be your time to tell us.’

  A light glints in Buckley’s eye as he struggles to rein his anger in. ‘I have not assaulted anyone. Nor am I in possession of pornographic images. This isn’t the end of this, Detective Inspector. I have a busy surgery and patients to see. This is insanity.’