by Jay Gill
“Absolutely,” laughed Monica. She winked at the girls and said, “I think it’s important these two young women understand that beastly boys grow up to become beastly men.”
“Hear, hear,” said Mum. “And they eventually become beastly grandads.”
“Well, that’s just charming,” I said. “And all this time there was me thinking I was your dream come true.”
Mum said, “You are, dear. You are her dream come true.” She added in a whisper from behind her hand, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Bless him.”
Breakfast went on this way for a good hour or so. Lots of good-natured fun and heartfelt laughter. It was great therapy. Every one of us around the table was hurting in their own way.
Emma looked relaxed and in good spirits. There was no doubt she was hurting inside, and she would need time to grieve. But right now, she’d put that to one side and was getting on with dealing with the here and now.
After we’d all helped with the clearing up and the packing away of breakfast, Emma and I went to my office to spend some time going over the case. It was time to decide our next move.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I’d lost track of time while going over the case files with Emma, and visiting hours at the hospital were over. I pressed the buzzer and peered through the window of the ward’s secure doors.
To my surprise, I was welcomed with a big smile from the ward sister. I quickly discovered she’d been told who I was and that I was working the homicide case they’d all heard about on the news.
I was allowed in under strict instructions that I shouldn’t stay more than half an hour and to be ‘as quiet as a church mouse.’
“Your dad talks about you a lot. He’s so proud,” said Nurse Gillespie. “He’s a lovely man. He makes us all laugh. Tells us stories of his granddaughters.”
“Thank you for looking after him. It sounds like he’s in good form.”
“Yes, he is. His operation got pushed back because an emergency came in, but we’re monitoring him, and the doctor will re-schedule at the earliest opportunity.”
I found Dad sitting up in bed reading the Daily Echo. On seeing me, he folded the newspaper and put it to one side. His face still looked pale and the rims of his eyes were red, but he was smiling and appeared stable.
“Stop your gawping and sit yourself down,” ordered Dad. “You’re looking tired, James. Have you been sleeping?”
“I’m okay,” I lied. The last thing Dad needed to hear was how the Lyle case had escalated.
“How are my granddaughters? I’m looking forward to seeing them and Monica. Monica promised to smuggle in some of that carrot cake of hers.” Suddenly his eyes filled with tears.
“What is it, Dad?”
“Ah, nothing. Just being a dope.”
“Come on,” I insisted. “Talk to me.”
Dad picked up his paper, unnecessarily folded it one more time, put it back down on his lap, and said, “You know, for a moment there, when I was on the floor, staring up at the sky, I thought it was all over. I kept telling myself ‘I’m not ready to go,’ but there was nothing I could do about it. Now, I’m feeling like I’m on borrowed time.
“Something like this makes you realise how our time here can be all over in the blink of an eye and how precious each second is. It also makes you re-assess what’s truly important. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve always known what’s important. Yet, something like this really focuses the mind.”
Dad wiped away a tear and said, “I want to get out of here. I don’t want to waste another second in this hospital bed.” He looked anxious and scared in a way I’d never seen him before.
“You need the op, Dad. Wait and see the doctor in the morning. Get the operation over with, and you’ll feel like a new man. I guarantee it.”
“If anything happens to me…” started Dad.
“Listen, nothing’s going happen. You’ve had a scare, that’s all. A message from your body. Fixing a condition like yours is routine stuff for doctors these days. You’ll be fine.”
Dad ignored me. “If anything happens to me, your mother will be okay financially. I need you to promise me you’ll look after her. I know you will, but I just need to hear you say it, for my own peace of mind. She puts on the air of a strong, independent woman. Inside, I still see the young woman I met all those years ago. She acts tough, and she is in many ways – she certainly knows her mind – but that big generous heart of hers is easily broken.”
“I promise, I will. But we shouldn’t be having this conversation. You’ve both got years ahead of you.”
Dad smiled weakly. From his face, I could see he didn’t believe me. I guessed he was still in shock and feeling tired and vulnerable.
Suddenly, he brightened up. He sat up straight, put his paper to one side and said, “I might have told you the story, many times, of how your mother and I met at a dance. She was there with her girlfriends, and as soon as I saw her, I knew. The way she looked, moved and laughed. She was the only girl in the room I wanted to talk to. For me, it was love at first sight.
“We danced a few times that evening. We talked and talked, and I told her I was a police officer, with big plans for my future. I thought it would impress her.
“What I didn’t ever tell you was what your mother said to me that evening. Your mother told me she’d had a nice time but that a second date wasn’t in the cards. She turned me down.”
Dad laughed to himself as he pictured the moment in his mind.
“I was full of myself back then. A hot-headed young man. What I didn’t see back then was that, to your mother, my confidence and my stories of wanting to be a detective came across to her as arrogance. She told me years later I spent the whole dance talking about me and had wanted to know very little about her. Being naïve, and keen as mustard, I thought the way to win her was to do all I could to impress her with my achievements and ambition. I’d messed up.
“What it meant was I made it harder for myself to win her over. In time, she saw who I really was, and realised that the way I behaved that first evening was just for show.”
Dad put his hand on mine.
“The truth is, I didn’t know how to behave around girls back then, and I was putting on an act. As you get older, son, you realise that being something you’re not is harder than being who you really are. And for your own peace of mind you must accept who you are. Those who care about you will accept that. Be true to yourself, son. We only get one shot at this life, so whatever happens, be true to who you are.”
Dad wrinkled his nose and brushed away a tear. He looked like storm clouds were gathering in his mind and I wanted to keep him upbeat. I said, “Well, you won her over in the end. And the two of you have been together, ahem, many years.” I coughed jokingly to cover the number of years.
Dad laughed a little too loudly, and we looked at each other like naughty schoolboys as we noticed Nurse Gillespie give us a stern look. We continued to chuckle quietly.
“You’d better get out of here before you get thrown out,” he said at last. “Thanks for coming, son. You’ve cheered me up. Give Monica, Alice and Faith a kiss from me. I’d better get some sleep now. No doubt your mother will be here at the crack of dawn to fuss over me.”
“You love it, really. All this attention.”
“You bet I do. I’m making the most of this. Go on, get out of here. Go and see that beautiful family of yours.”
I thanked Nurse Gillespie on my way out and headed home.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Edward Richter sat back in his chair and folded his arms. He looked across the table at the woman opposite him, his eyes unblinking, as he tried to read her face.
“So you’re my new psychologist? What makes you think you’re smart enough to poke around inside my head and tell me why I do what I do? How long have you held a psychology degree? Nice wig, by the way. Though I prefer brunettes, if you know what I mean.”
“We both know why I’m here, Richter.”
“Isn’t it risky of you coming here? What’s to stop me calling the guards right now and turning you in?”
“That’s not your style. We both know you’re a man who likes to get his hands bloody.”
“Prison can change a man.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Why are you here? It can’t be about your girlfriend. That was years ago. Don’t tell me you’re still whining about that? If you are, it’s just a pretence. I don’t believe you are capable of love. I’ve often wondered whether, hidden deep inside you, there might be a heart. I concluded that if there is, it’s ugly, twisted and cold. Let’s face it – try as you might, you’ll never find peace.”
Kelly Lyle showed no emotion. She straightened her badge, which read Criminal Psychologist, and waited for Richter to finish.
When he was done speaking, she said, “I’m here because I want you to know that I’m the one who decides your future. And I want to take another look before I decide how that’s going to look.”
“You’re so full of shit, Lyle. If you could get to me, I’d be dead already. Then again, maybe you think you have more clout than you actually do. Delusional, they call that. Look it up.” Richter laughed and slapped the table with a tattooed hand.
“You can sit there and act all cocky. I really don’t care. I’m out there living life. Drinking wine, eating great food, travelling the world and getting laid. You, on the other hand, are lucky if you get an hour in the yard. Made any new friends in the showers? How’s that working out for you?”
Richter appeared unimpressed by Lyle’s little speech. “Little overdramatic, don’t you think? We both know you can’t touch me. We both also know her death was unintentional. What’s the real reason you’re here? Is it that you’re bored with me? I mean, if life’s so good on the outside and you have your freedom, then why waste your time visiting me? The difference between you and me, Lyle, is I know who I am. I accept it. I know where I fit in. You, on the other hand, well, you’re still a lost little girl who’s angry at Daddy. Maybe it’s time you got over it. Perhaps it’s time to take a long, hard look at yourself and moved on. Perhaps you’re suffering from never having a real man in your life?”
He paused and placed a finger on his lips, pretending to think. “Something just occurred to me. Why didn’t I think of it before? Ooh, Kelly, perhaps, you’re still looking for a real man. Is that what it is? You’re confused about your sexuality. Is that why you’re here? How about I show you how a real man feels, then you can decide?”
Richter gave a filthy, guttural laugh as he leaned back in his chair and pretended to unzip his trousers.
Lyle closed the fake folder of notes in front of her and placed her clasped hands on top of them.
“Edward Richter, your time is coming. I just need to click my fingers. You’ll never know it’s coming. But I guarantee it is, and from a most unexpected hand.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,” said Richter. He jumped to his feet and tried to grab Lyle from across the table. Lyle took a step back to avoid his grasp. Richter grabbed the fake file and paperwork and threw it across the room.
“You want to know what your real problem is, Lyle?” He grabbed his crotch. “You wish you had a pair of these. When I get out of here, I’m going to pay you a visit. And this time I won’t miss, I can promise you that. You’re a fucking dead woman. Dead – you hear me?”
Richter ran his finger slowly across his throat. “Dead.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Emma and I had been working out of my home office since the early hours, challenging assumptions and making calls. We decided to take a break, get out and go for a walk.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“You need to stop asking me that. If the same had happened to your old partner Rayner, would you be asking him the same question?”
“As a matter of fact, I would. Partners look out for each other.”
“Is that what we are? Partners?”
“So long as we can trust one another. Agree not to hide anything from each other. And look out for each other. Then I’d say yes, we’re partners.”
Emma turned to look at me. I could see she was wondering whether I knew. To her credit, she opened up about going to see Tony Horn. When I showed no surprise, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Rayner told you?” Her voice was accusing.
“As I said, partners don’t hide things.”
She looked annoyed and embarrassed, like a child who’d been caught cheating a friend. “I wasn’t hiding anything. I wanted to understand before speaking to you. I didn’t want you distracted from your own line of enquiry with what might amount to nothing.”
I wasn’t angry, only mildly annoyed. Annoyed that Emma had chosen to speak to Horn without consulting me. What had happened to Helena would always be very personal for me, and it felt as though she’d stepped over the line.
“I really believe the tipoff is connected to this current case. It makes sense to look into it,” said Emma.
“You believe there is some sort of connection between what’s happening now and what happened to Helena? Kelly Lyle told you that?”
“You make it sound like that’s impossible.”
“You could have got yourself killed. Lyle’s toying with you. It what she does. All it’s done is get Tony Horn killed.”
Emma stopped in her tracks and looked at me as if she hadn’t heard me correctly. With shock on her face, she said, “What? Is he dead? How? When?”
“He was found dead in his cell. In truth, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before this. He had a way of pissing people off, from what I heard. What did he say to you, exactly?”
“Nothing, really. I got the impression he was trying to change. Trying to get his life back on track. He was obviously a troubled individual.”
I didn’t like the way Emma spoke about Horn. As far as I was concerned, he had no right to a life. I really didn’t care to hear that Horn was trying to improve his life. I knew I shouldn’t think it, but I was glad he was dead.
“Do you think Lyle got to him?” asked Emma.
Now it was my turn to be shocked.
“I have no idea. I don’t see why Lyle would want Horn dead. As far as I know, they have nothing connecting them.”
Emma said, “Lyle wants me to look at Helena’s murder. All these recent murders are all very close to home.”
I nodded in agreement and said, “Most recently with Etheridge’s murder, David’s and now Horn’s.”
Emma added, “It feels like every step of the way, she’s corralling us towards an endgame. We need to ask why. And we need to ask how it all fits together.”
We walked for some time in silence, both of us thinking and wondering what we were missing.
Finally, Emma spoke again. “Something Horn said has been going around and around in my head. He said the detective was getting too close. What do you think he meant?”
I shook my head. “My guess is it doesn’t mean anything. Either he told you what you wanted to hear, or he was concocting a story ready for when he was eligible for parole.”
Emma stopped walking and said, “I’m going back to the office. The station office. I’ll drop by my house first, grab a few things and start working from there. I’ve slept on my office sofa more times than I care to admit.”
I didn’t like it, but I could see from her manner there was no point arguing with her.
“You’re welcome to stay in our guest room for as long as you want, you know that. “
“Thank you. If the sofa becomes too uncomfortable, I may take you up on it. You have enough going on, with your father in the hospital. I’m also thinking I can’t let Lyle drive me out of my home. I really should go back there. And sooner rather than later. And there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Try me.”
“I want to speak to the killer you were investigating with R
ayner when Helena was murdered. I want to speak to Edward Richter.”
We didn’t speak on the walk back to the house. I couldn’t stop her seeing Richter, any more than I could insist she remain at my home.
As I watched Emma drive away, I wondered whether I should have confronted her and asked whether there was anything else she had neglected to tell me.
There was no doubt in my mind Emma was an excellent detective, and I decided that even though I like to think I have all the answers, in truth I know I don’t. Perhaps this investigation was too close to home, and I was blinkered to what was really going on.
Giving Emma the space to investigate the way she saw fit might yield a breakthrough. As the saying goes, ‘Sometimes the secret to leadership is to step back and let others lead.’
Since she had spoken to Rayner and to Horn, I guessed it was only a matter of time before she began digging deeper. I had nothing to hide, but I was concerned that Emma might get in over her head and not ask for help.
I decided to call in a few favours and make sure someone was looking out for her.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
I answered the phone on the third ring. I sat up in bed as I felt my body go numb. Monica lightly touched my back and whispered, “What is it, James?”
I couldn’t find the words. I switched on the bedside lamp and fumbled around for my clothes.
Monica sat up and looked at me. “James? What’s going on?”
I gave up trying to find my sock and pulled on a fresh pair.
“That was Mum on the phone. She’s at the hospital. Dad’s had another heart attack. I need to get over to the hospital right away.”
“Shall I come with you? Shall I get the girls up?”
I was looking under the bed, hunting for my shoes. I was having difficulty thinking where they would be.
“No, no,” I said. “Would you stay here? There’s no point worrying Faith and Alice. Let’s wait until we know more. Is that okay? I’ll call you.”