‘I don’t know what went wrong between them. Dylan told me it was over, but he didn’t tell me the reason.’ Elise’s face is blank. ‘I assumed their relationship had run its course. They were young. It seemed inevitable at that age.’
I think back to what Ida Jones said, about how they had had something rare, that she felt blessed to witness it. ‘Your husband said that Hollie ended it, but James Hampton said it was Dylan. Do you know what happened?’
Her voice is cold. ‘I know that Dylan wouldn’t have confided anything in Andrew. Niamh told you what she heard her father saying to him before he died. It was Andrew who tipped him over the edge. It wasn’t Hollie.’
I’m silent. So why has Buckley told us these lies? There’s the sound of quiet footsteps coming downstairs, and when I look up, I see Niamh standing in the doorway.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jo
For a moment Niamh doesn’t move. ‘There was a letter.’ Her voice is thin, clear.
‘What letter?’ Elise’s voice is sharp.
‘Dylan wrote a letter to Hollie. I found it after he died.’
‘Did you give it to her?’ My voice is gentle. When Niamh nods, I ask, ‘When?’
‘A few weeks ago.’
‘Did you read it?’
Niamh nods again.
‘Why did you wait until then to give it to her?’
‘I shouldn’t have kept it.’ Niamh speaks quietly. ‘Dylan wrote it for her.’
‘What did the letter say?’ Elise speaks harshly, but everything about her is brittle right now, as though she’ll snap. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Then I get it. She’s frightened about how much Niamh knows. As I study Niamh, suddenly I know the answer. She hasn’t told us until now because she’s been protecting her mother from something – drip-feeding information to us, as the DI said, on what she judges to be a need-to-know basis. Suddenly I know, with certainty, there’s more.
Niamh goes on. ‘In the letter, Dylan told Hollie he loved her – more than this world. He said she should never forget that.’ Her voice is surprisingly unemotional, but this isn’t new to her. She’s been sitting on it since her brother died. ‘But he said that if they were together, his father had told him he would cause Hollie a whole lot of trouble. The only way to save her was to give her up.’
‘What did he mean by that?’
Niamh’s eyes flicker over me. ‘Before she was with Dylan, Hollie had problems. She was bulimic – and she self-harmed. Dylan helped her stop, but my father was her doctor. He knew because he was treating her.’ Her face is expressionless. ‘He would have told everyone – her school, her parents. Everyone.’
I stare at her, frowning. It’s easy to imagine Andrew Buckley threatening them, but if Hollie and Dylan were in love, this was hardly enough to stop them ‘And you’re sure Dylan wrote that just before he died?’
Niamh nods. ‘It was the day before. He left the letter in his room. I went in there before the police got there and took it. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to read it. Just Hollie. But if she had …’ She tails off.
‘You thought she’d be angry with your father, so you didn’t give it to her – until recently,’ I say quietly, remembering how the tyres on Andrew Buckley’s car were slashed. It’s why you became friends, isn’t it?’ My heart twists as I look at her. ‘You were each other’s links to Dylan. No-one else could understand.’ I wonder how Hollie could have tolerated seeing Andrew Buckley, knowing what he’d said to Dylan – unless she’d been waiting while she planned a way of getting back at him. Except she ran out of time.
‘What happened that day Hollie took you to Phil Mason’s house?’
‘We went in the back way. She checked no-one was in, then she showed me this building that wasn’t part of the house. There was a window …’
‘What did you see?’
‘Photos.’ Niamh’s voice is soft. ‘Of girls.’
Glancing at Elise, there’s a look of horror on her face.
‘Niamh? We know about the photos.’ Trying to reassure her, I wonder how much she could have made out through the window. ‘And we’re holding Phil Mason.’
‘And my father?’ The words, reed-like, chill me. Did Niamh know about Andrew’s involvement?
‘What did Hollie know about your father?’
‘She said he knew Phil Mason – very well.’
‘Is there anything else we should know, Niamh?’ But as she shakes her head, I know that even if there’s more, she’s told me all she’s prepared to at this stage.
I turn to Elise again. ‘I have to get back to the office.’
Getting up, she walks with me to the door. ‘There’s something else.’ Her voice is low, her eyes not quite meeting mine. ‘Something I saw on Andrew’s phone.’
My heart starts to race. ‘Go on.’
‘I should have told you, but I was terrified – you’ve seen what he can do – and if you questioned him, he would have known it was me who told you.’ Desperation flickers in her eyes before she glances away to make sure Niamh can’t hear. ‘But he had a photo on his phone – an indecent photo of a young girl. I challenged him and he made it sound like it was nothing.’
‘How young?’ My voice is sharp.
Elise shakes her head. ‘It’s hard to know. She could have been fifteen or sixteen, but she could have been younger.’ Her voice is low, her eyes imploring me to understand. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I’m silent. ‘You should have told us.’ In the circumstances, I can see why she didn’t, but this is the evidence we’ve needed. ‘I’ll send you over some phone numbers of lawyers – or if you see Chris, you could ask him. You can trust him,’ I emphasise, looking past her at Niamh, still in the kitchen. ‘If you’re worried about Niamh, or if you think she needs to talk to a professional, we can put you in touch with someone who can help.’
*
‘Sir, when Hollie took Niamh to Mason’s property, she saw some photos through a window – of girls. She also told Niamh that our doctor and Mason know each other very well, as she put it. But there’s more. A couple of weeks ago, Elise Buckley caught her husband looking at an image of a young girl on his phone. The girl looked fifteen or sixteen, but could have been younger.’
‘Why hasn’t she told us this before?’ the DI demands.
‘She said he’d know it was her who’d told us and she was frightened of what he’d do to her. I suppose it’s only knowing we’re holding him that’s given her the courage to talk.’
The DI looks at me. ‘We need to get over and search the Buckleys’ house, pick up his computer – see what else we can find. I’m going to step up the investigation into his finances, too. If he’s involved with Operation Rainbow, the chances are he’ll have a tidy sum stashed away somewhere. Buckley clearly knows more than he’s saying. I wouldn’t be surprised if his daughter does, too. But we’ll start with him.’
‘There’s more, sir. Apparently, Andrew Buckley had found out that Hollie was bulimic and used to self-harm. He overheard her talking with his son. He threatened to tell her parents and school if Dylan didn’t break things off with her.’
‘Who told you this?’
‘Niamh. After her brother died, she found a letter he’d left for Hollie.’
‘Did she say where the letter is now?’
‘She gave it to Hollie.’ I hesitate. ‘I can believe Andrew Buckley would have threatened them, and that it could have caused Hollie a great deal of embarrassment, but they were in love. Surely they wouldn’t have let that break them up?’
‘It does seem unlikely – unless there’s something else we don’t know.’ The DI pauses. ‘And it surely wouldn’t be a reason for Buckley to kill her, either.’ As we reach the door of the interview room, he stops outside. ‘Let’s see what he says.’
*
The interview room reeks of the thinly veiled threat of Andrew Buckley’s anger. I pull out a chair and sit opposite him, as the DI settles next to me. ‘
I’d like to talk to you about your son, Doctor Buckley.’
He folds his arms. ‘Is there any point? I’ve told you all there is to know about my son. His death has nothing to do with Hollie’s.’
‘You told us that it was Hollie who left Dylan.’
He frowns irritably. ‘What’s your point?’
‘James Hampton told us that Dylan broke it off with Hollie.’
‘He’ll say anything. You do realise that, don’t you? Hampton isn’t reliable. He never has been.’ Andrew Buckley speaks quickly.
I ignore him. ‘Your wife said Dylan wouldn’t have confided in you. So my question is, how are you so sure that’s what happened?’
‘You had to be there.’ He’s bluffing. ‘It was obvious. Elise will say anything. She’s—’
I interrupt. ‘Unreliable, Doctor Buckley? Like James Hampton and everyone else who doesn’t agree with you?’ As I watch him, he looks less sure of himself. ‘There’s also the letter.’
‘What letter?’ he snaps.
‘The letter Dylan wrote to Hollie, the day before he killed himself. Apparently, he told her she meant the world to him, but you told Dylan that unless they broke up, you planned to cause Hollie a lot of trouble.’
His face pales. ‘That’s ludicrous. Who told you this?’
‘It’s irrelevant where the letter came from. You’d found out about Hollie’s problems, Doctor Buckley, and used them to threaten her and Dylan. That’s correct, isn’t it? Or was there some other reason?’
His manner subtly changes. ‘I meant no harm. I was doing what I thought was for the best – for my family. Hollie wasn’t good for Dylan.’
‘So you keep saying. It would almost be believable that you cared if you hadn’t been overheard shouting at your son.’
His eyes narrow. ‘If you want to find out what really happened with Hollie, you’re talking to the wrong person, Detective Sergeant. I suggest you talk to my wife – I’m assuming you know where she is?’
He looks at me, as if expecting me to take him seriously, as the DI leans forward. ‘Let’s switch gears and talk about Mason’s business. As we speak, a search of your house is under way – which includes seizing your computer and anything else we deem necessary.’
Buckley’s eyes flash with fury. ‘You can’t do that. You have no grounds.’
‘I think the image of the young girl your wife saw on your phone is reason enough.’ The DI speaks through gritted teeth just as there’s a knock on the door of the interview room. ‘One moment.’ After a brief exchange at the door, he comes back. ‘We’ll break for now. Ten minutes. May.’ Nodding to me, he walks out.
As soon as we’re away from the interview room, the DI starts talking. ‘We’ve found enough to implicate him in Operation Rainbow. He and Mason were in cahoots. Calder’s involved too.’
‘You’re sure, sir?’
‘A tidy sum in a bank account set up under a false name that’s been found among Mason’s records – and that he’s accessed from his laptop. He and Mason corresponded by email – Mason used a false name too. It very much looks as though they were partners.’
After all of his lies and inconsistencies, an odd sense of relief fills me that this evil man will be removed from circulation for a long time. Then I think of Elise, at last free to begin her new life without him.
*
When we return ten minutes later, the DI is icily calm and the friction in the interview room is palpable. ‘Doctor Buckley, I’m asking you for the last time if you know anything about Mason’s business.’
Sitting back and folding his arms, Buckley doesn’t miss a beat. ‘I’ve told you more than once, you’re barking up the wrong tree.’
Knowing what we now know, I realise we truly are looking at a psychopath.
The DI is silent for a while. ‘We have incontrovertible proof to the contrary, Doctor Buckley, and I am arresting you on suspicion of the production and distribution of pornographic images of children, as well as perverting the course of justice.’
‘You’re making a mistake.’ The look he gives me before he turns to his lawyer makes my blood run cold, and I’m reminded of what Elise has lived with. ‘Do something about this.’
‘There is nothing to do, Doctor Buckley.’ The DI stands up. ‘You’ve committed a crime – several, in fact. You couldn’t honestly have believed you’d get away with it?’
*
As we walk back to the DI’s office, there’s something on my mind. ‘There was something he said just now, sir. He said we were talking to the wrong person – that we needed to talk to his wife.’
‘You have – several times.’ The DI sounds impatient. ‘Don’t get drawn in by anything he says. We know he lies. In any case, we’ve ruled her out as a suspect.’
‘I don’t know, sir, but her behaviour is erratic. That could be put down to the stress of her marriage, but she isn’t the most stable of people.’ I pause. ‘Think about it for a moment. Elise has an unpredictable working pattern and her family takes for granted that she is where she says she is. She could put on that uniform and go anywhere, for all we know. She might go somewhere else, even meet someone, especially given her husband’s series of affairs. Or she could just be hiding from her miserable marriage. We’ve never actually checked out her job.’
‘Then do it,’ the DI says quietly. ‘The next time her slippery husband tries to distract us, we’ll know exactly where we stand.’
*
When I check my notes, I find that according to Elise, the day Hollie died, she flew to Athens and back. I call her airline, waiting five minutes to get through to her manager and explain the reason for my call.
There’s a brief pause. ‘That’s right. She was rostered on an Athens flight that day. But hold on a moment … I need to check something.’ The phone goes quiet for a moment. ‘She was definitely rostered to go to Athens that day, but on that morning, she didn’t turn up.’
Chapter Forty-Nine
Elise
In the farm cottage, Niamh and I are still in limbo, waiting for one of the lawyers to get back to me, when my mobile buzzes.
‘Elise? It’s DS May. I thought you’d want to know that your husband has been charged and remanded in custody. I’ll let you know more in due course, but I wanted you to be the first to hear.’
My heart lifts. ‘Does this mean we can go home?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ DS May hesitates. ‘We’re searching your house as part of our investigation. I’m sorry about all this.’ She pauses again. ‘I’ll stop over later on and fill you in on everything.’
As the call ends, I stare in disbelief at my phone, then turn to Niamh. ‘That was DS May. The police have arrested your father.’
‘So we can go home?’ Niamh looks hopeful.
‘Not yet.’ I look at her. ‘The police have to search the house, apparently. She’ll come by later to let us know what’s happening.’
The colour drains from Niamh’s face.
‘What’s wrong, Niamh?’
She shakes her head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Are you sure?’
She’s silent. Then she says, ‘I have some of Dylan’s stuff, that’s all. They won’t take it, will they?’
I frown at her, wondering how I hadn’t come across it. ‘What kind of stuff?’
‘Just things he wrote. Some of his drawings. Photos.’
‘It’s your father’s stuff they’ll go through. I can’t imagine the police will want to look through your things.’ I look at Niamh more closely, taking in her anxious look. ‘Are you all right?’
She nods, but before I can ask her more, my phone buzzes again with an unfamiliar number. ‘I need to get this. It could be one of the lawyers.’ I answer the call, frowning as I watch Niamh slip upstairs.
*
An hour on the phone to Alison Wantley, the lawyer, to start divorce proceedings leaves me fortified. That I have an idea of where I stand and what to expect going forward gives me new strength. But also, n
ow that Andrew’s being held by the police, there is no need for me and Niamh to stay in hiding.
‘You could go back to school tomorrow,’ I say to Niamh. ‘I have an appointment to see a lawyer in the morning to sign the paperwork. It won’t be long before things can get back to normal.’ I’m trying to reassure her, but both of us know that normal doesn’t exist anymore; that more time is needed to undo the years of damage inflicted by Andrew.
She nods, then suddenly remembers something. ‘I haven’t got any of my school stuff.’
‘I didn’t even think about that.’ I hadn’t packed her uniform or any of her books. ‘I’ll call DS May. Hopefully, they’ll let us collect it.’
*
Later that afternoon, the farmer, Chris, raises a hand in greeting as we get in the car. As we drive home to Abingworth, I realise the weight of what’s been hanging over me. For a brief moment, I can almost pretend nothing’s happened, but the feeling doesn’t last. When we turn into the drive, several police cars are parked there, including a white van. When we walk in, a man carrying Andrew’s computer passes us on his way out.
Niamh turns to me in horror. ‘They won’t want mine, will they?’
‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t think so. Your father never used it, did he?’ I notice Sergeant Collins coming towards us. ‘Mrs Buckley? Niamh? The DS said you needed to pick up your school uniform. I’m really sorry about all this.’ She glances back towards the house. ‘Niamh? I’m afraid I need to go with you. Is that OK?’ She speaks as if we have a choice, but I know we don’t.
Coming here has brought back too many unpleasant memories. ‘I’ll stay here,’ I say.
As I watch them disappear inside, it’s as if I’m standing outside someone else’s house. Several policemen go to and fro carrying what I imagine to be the contents of Andrew’s desk. Then a light goes on upstairs, in our bedroom, where no doubt the police will be going through mine and Andrew’s clothes.
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