When the Dead Speak

by Sheila Bugler

‘And?’

  This time she got a proper smile.

  ‘And for not telling you about Lauren coming to see me, or what happened with Graham. All of it.’

  ‘I can understand why you didn’t say anything,’ Dee said. ‘It’s just… I thought I knew you better than I do. That’s a weird feeling.’

  ‘I’m still me,’ Ed said.

  ‘Unfortunately.’

  ‘Hey.’ He punched her arm. ‘Watch it or you’ll be buying your own breakfast.’

  They started walking again. Half an hour later, they reached Jevington, a tiny village nestled in the bottom of the valley. They walked through the village, past the row of cottages that were once the Hungry Monk restaurant, where the banoffee pie was created.

  ‘Which way?’ Ed asked. ‘Continue through the village or turn here and walk up to Butt’s Brow?’

  ‘This way.’ Dee pointed to the path that led across the fields and over several more hills to Butt’s Brow. Her body would regret this later, but the views from the top of Butt’s Brow were some of her favourite. It seemed a shame not to take advantage of them on a clear, sunny day like this.

  ‘I got a call from a journalist at the Mirror last night,’ Ed said. ‘Wanted to ask me about Graham. Apparently they’re running their own story today.’

  ‘God, I’m sorry you have to go through all that,’ Dee said. ‘Don’t speak to any of them. No matter how much they make you think it would be a good idea. What exactly are they going to say in their story, do you know?’

  ‘Nothing new, as far as I know. The journalist wanted to know if I had any comment so, of course, I said no. I called Ness, but so far no one’s contacted her. Although I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’

  Dee wished there was something she could do to make this go away. He didn’t deserve to have to deal with tabloid intrusion on top of everything else he’d already been through. Her journalism career sat like a wedge between them at times.

  ‘This could turn into a bit of a shit storm,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you let me handle the journalists? The next time someone calls you, give them my number and tell them to speak to me instead.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that,’ Ed said. ‘Besides, it’ll pass soon enough. Before we know it, they’ll have moved on to the next big story and I’ll be yesterday’s news.’

  His easy dismissal of her offer to help hurt, but she let it go. He had enough to deal with without worrying about her feelings on top of everything else.

  ‘You think Nessa will be okay?’ she asked, as they continued up the hill.

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Ed said. ‘She’s in such a good place now. And Javi’s a very steadying influence. I offered to drive up to see them this weekend, but she said there’s no point.’

  Dee had only met Ed’s sister a handful of times, but she’d liked her instantly. Unlike her older brother, Nessa was scatty and bohemian and a total hippie. She was also vegan and didn’t drink alcohol or caffeine. Despite these vices, she was great fun and Dee had enjoyed her company enormously.

  They didn’t speak much for the next twenty minutes, saving their breath for the hills. As they neared the brow, Ed told Dee about his visit to Nigel the previous day.

  ‘Doesn’t sound like the most sensible thing you’ve ever done,’ Dee said, when he’d finished. Which was mild considering what she could have said. What the hell had he been thinking? Sharon Spalding, Ed’s boss, would go ballistic if she found out, and Dee couldn’t see how Sharon wouldn’t find out.

  ‘I thought he’d want to know the truth,’ Ed said. ‘But he doesn’t care about the truth. The only thing he cares about is protecting his family’s precious reputation.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ Dee said. ‘He might have all sorts of reasons for not wanting to speak to you. You told me yourself the two of you have never got on. You’re probably the last person he wants to see right now.’

  ‘I’m not going to sit back and do nothing,’ Ed said. ‘Especially now, when my own family’s private business is about to be raked over by the tabloid press.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Dee said. ‘But you can’t around upsetting people like Nigel Shaw. You know the right thing to do is leave Rachel to get on with her job.’

  ‘Even if Lauren’s death is directly linked to what happened to Mary?’ Ed said, sounding irritated.

  If he’d been less grumpy, she might have let it go. But his irritation was obviously rubbing off on her. ‘For all you know, whoever killed Lauren put her body in the church and cut off her hair as a distraction.’

  ‘A distraction from what?’

  ‘From the real reason she was killed. Think about it. If the killer knew about Lauren’s connection with Mary, it would be the perfect way to take attention away from himself.’

  ‘Lauren was writing a story about Mary’s murder,’ Ed said. ‘She found something that proved Graham – my uncle – was innocent. That’s why she was killed. There’s no point anyone wasting their time thinking there’s any other reason she was killed.’

  ‘So who killed her then?’

  ‘Well clearly I don’t know that,’ Ed said. ‘Not yet.’

  Dee could see there was no point continuing this conversation. His mind was made up and nothing she did or said was going to change what he thought. Ed normally had such a cool head and took his profession seriously. But on this, he was unwilling to listen to reason. And that irritated the hell out of her.

  They’d reached the car park and, as she waited for Ed to unlock his car, she wished she’d driven across by herself. She didn’t want to get into the car with him, and she certainly didn’t want to have breakfast with him at Nelson’s. She couldn’t bear to be with him when he was like this – obsessed and irrational and nothing like the man she’d started to fall in love with.

  ‘Ed?’

  When he turned and smiled, waiting to hear what she had to say, she wanted to beg him to let it go – Lauren and Graham and Mary, all of it. Just put it behind him and focus on this relationship. Because she was scared of what would happen if he didn’t find the answers he wanted.

  ‘I’ve got a deadline this morning,’ she said instead. ‘I’m not going to have time for breakfast.’

  ‘You okay?’ he said.

  ‘Fine,’ she lied. ‘I’ve just realised how much I’ve got left to do, that’s all.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Probably better, anyway. I was planning to go and speak to Kyle after work today. But if I’m not having breakfast with you, I can try to catch him this morning instead. Come on, don’t stand there looking at me like that. Jump in. We’ve both got work to do.’

  Twenty-two

  Today, the red Mazda was the only car in the driveway. Two minutes earlier, Ed had watched Nigel Shaw get into the silver Lexus and drive away from the house. He waited until Nigel’s car turned left at the end of the road and disappeared before he approached the house. He shouldn’t be here. If Sharon found out he was visiting Lauren’s family, she’d slap a misconduct charge on him.

  He hadn’t planned this. After dropping Dee back home, he’d driven to the Frenches’ house, but despite the early hour, no one seemed to be at home. By then, he was too wired to focus on work. So he’d come here instead.

  He lifted his hand to ring the doorbell. Then paused. Dee’s voice, as clear as if she was standing here beside him. You can’t go around upsetting people like Nigel Shaw. Except Nigel wasn’t here, so what harm could it do? Dee wasn’t here either, come to that. And what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  Bollocks.

  Again, he hesitated. She was right. Not telling her something was another form of lying.

  ‘Ed?’

  The front door had opened while he stood here, trying to make his mind up. Flashes of memory, moments suspended in time. People he hadn’t thought about in years. Bonfires on the beach, a bottle of warm beer being passed around, the air thick with the bitter smell of weed. Her face when she smiled, and the soft touch of
her lips on his. All rushing back with just one word.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Can we talk?’ he said. ‘Please, Maxine.’

  After a moment, she nodded her head.

  ‘You’d better come inside.’

  In the kitchen, she gestured for him to sit at the table.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, sitting opposite him.

  ‘I just wanted to see you,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry, Max.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel real,’ she said. ‘Nothing in life prepares you for this. It’s like being in a nightmare that you can’t wake up from.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘Find who killed her.’ She used her sleeve to wipe her face. ‘I’m glad you came, actually. Nigel said she’d been to see you. Is that true?’

  ‘It’s why I’m not part of the investigation,’ Ed said. ‘Well, that and my family history. Obviously.’

  ‘What did she want to talk to you about?’ Maxine asked.

  ‘I don’t know. She first approached me a few months back. Said she was writing about Mary’s murder and wanted to ask me some questions. I wasn’t interested, and I told her that. Then, a week before she was killed, she sent me an email. Said she needed to see me. I never replied.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Maxine put a hand over her mouth. ‘What the hell was she up to?’

  Grief had aged her. She had none of the bouncy energy that he’d once found so exhilarating. And no sign of that big, wide smile that used to beam pure joy out to the world and made you want to find ways to keep her smiling all the time. Her face had caved in on itself. She’d lost a lot of weight, and looked hollowed out, empty. Her eyes, usually so bright and curious, were dull.

  ‘You’re lucky Nigel isn’t home,’ she said. ‘You really wound him up the last time you were here. It took a lot of persuasion to stop him calling your boss and making a complaint.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset him,’ Ed said. ‘I swear, Max. I just wanted him to know – wanted you both to know – that Lauren had contacted me.’

  ‘He’s not coping. Neither of us are coping, of course. But he’s… I’m worried about him, Ed. At least, I would be worried if I was able to. Mostly I can’t think or care about how he’s feeling. It’s all I can do to keep myself going without trying to keep him going as well. It’s too much.’

  ‘I was hoping you might know why she emailed me,’ Ed said.

  ‘She wanted to be a journalist.’ Tears started running down Maxine’s face, but she continued speaking as if she hadn’t noticed. ‘I’m sure she would have succeeded. She was very determined. Very like Nigel, in fact. Although not as messed up, because… well, because his mother was a horrible woman who probably should never have had children of her own.’ She frowned. ‘Sorry. I’ve forgotten what I was saying. What were we talking about?’

  ‘Lauren,’ Ed said. ‘You were telling me that she wanted to be a journalist.’

  ‘That’s right. But then something happened. I don’t know what, exactly. She had a big row with Nigel, and the next thing I knew she was packing her bags and moving in with Kyle.’

  ‘What did they row about?’

  ‘Some letter she found.’ Maxine frowned. ‘I wish I could tell you more than that, but I can’t. Because neither of them would talk to me. All I know is, one day Lauren was writing a story about Mary’s murder. The next, she refused to talk to me about it. She moved out and now I can’t forgive him for that, because if he hadn’t been such a pig-headed idiot, she wouldn’t have spent the last few weeks of her life living somewhere else.

  ‘Karen loved it, of course. Kept calling around, pretending she wanted to help when all she really wanted to do was rub my nose in it. Sorry. That probably sounds cruel, but I don’t care. That’s the thing, I don’t care about anything any more. I don’t care that Nigel’s cracking up, or Kyle is heartbroken. I don’t care about any of it. All I care about, the only thing I think about every single minute of every day, is finding out who killed my daughter and making sure they pay for what they’ve done.’

  She was speaking too fast, her words tumbling over each other, voice rising until she was shouting. Ed guessed this was the first time she’d said a lot of this out loud.

  She paused to take a breath and wipe her face.

  ‘I’ve never believed in capital punishment,’ she continued. ‘Now, I wish we still had it. I want to see him die. The person who did that to Lauren. I want to stick a knife into his heart and stand over him as the life drains from his body. I want him to suffer, and understand what it’s like to experience pain like you couldn’t even imagine.’

  ‘I’d feel the same.’ Ed thought of his nephews, Cielo and River. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if something like this happened to one of them.

  ‘Nigel still won’t tell me what they rowed about. Even now, when our daughter is dead, he refuses to speak about it. There have been times these last few days when I’ve hated him.’ Maxine shook her head. ‘Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Ed wanted to stand up and wrap his arms around her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take it so he stayed where he was.

  ‘Have you spoken to Kyle?’ she said.

  ‘Not yet. Why?’

  Maxine started to reply but she was interrupted by the sound of the front doorbell ringing. Ed offered to go and see who was there but Maxine shook her head.

  ‘I’ll go. You stay here.’

  He listened as she opened the front door and spoke to whoever was outside. A moment later, he heard the slam of the door being shut, footsteps in the hall and a familiar voice speaking to Maxine.

  Ed groaned. He looked around the kitchen, searching for a way out. He tried the back door, but it was locked and he couldn’t see a key. Before he could find one, Maxine was coming back into the room with Rachel Lewis right behind her.

  Rachel stopped in the doorway.

  ‘Maxine,’ she said, looking at Ed. ‘Is there anywhere we can speak in private?’

  ‘Oh.’ Maxine frowned. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise… yes, of course. We can go into the living room.’

  ‘There’s no need.’ Ed grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair where he’d put it earlier. He felt Rachel’s eyes on him the whole time. ‘I was just leaving. Thanks for the chat, Maxine.’

  At the door, he paused to speak to Rachel but she looked away. Ed pushed past her into the corridor and walked towards the front door. He didn’t look back, but he knew Rachel had turned around and was watching him as he opened the front door and walked outside into the chill wind and grey light of the early spring morning.

  Twenty-three

  Dee was working on her second article for the Guardian when she had an unexpected visitor in the form of Karen French. One look at Karen’s face told Dee this wasn’t a friendly visit.

  ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ Karen demanded as soon as Dee opened the front door.

  ‘What can I do for you, Karen?’

  ‘I thought you were meant to be helping my son. Instead, you’re going around the place making all sorts of wild accusations about my husband.’

  ‘What sort of accusations?’

  ‘Implying there was something going on between him and Lauren. Which is ridiculous. Derek would never do something like that. And why are you accusing him of being involved in the disappearance of some girl who should never have even been in this country in the first place?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘She’s an illegal immigrant, isn’t she?’

  ‘She’s a young woman who’s disappeared,’ Dee said. ‘She was meant to have been meeting someone in your hotel the night she went missing. I’m trying to find out what happened to her. I don’t know what Derek’s told you, but I’ve never accused him of anything. If he’s got a problem with my questions, why doesn’t he speak to me himself?’

  Karen’s shoulders slumped.

  ‘He’s upse
t. We’re all upset. This terrible business with Lauren, it’s broken my poor boy. It’s a nightmare with no end in sight. I really hoped you’d be able to help. Instead, all you’re doing is… I don’t know. What are you doing exactly?’

  She was right. This was a terrible time for Karen and her family. Dee should have handled things with a bit more tact.

  ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any wine?’

  ‘I’m sure I’ve got a bottle of white in the fridge.’

  She was surprised. Karen didn’t strike her as the sort of woman to drink in the afternoon. She led Karen into the sitting room, took a bottle of Pinot from the fridge and poured them both a glass.

  ‘What a wonderful house,’ Karen said. ‘I had no idea you lived somewhere so beautiful.’

  ‘It was my parents’ house,’ Dee said. ‘My dad was an architect. He designed the place.’

  ‘And you inherited all of it? Lucky you.’

  Lucky wasn’t the word Dee would have chosen to describe the death of both her parents, but she let it pass.

  ‘I’m really sorry if I’ve upset you,’ she said, handing one of the glasses to Karen and gesturing for her to sit down.

  ‘You can’t help it, I’m sure. You know Lauren had moved in with us? Everyone thought they were a perfect family, but they had all sorts of problems. Nigel is very difficult, and Maxine lets him walk all over her. Lauren had a bit more spirit so he couldn’t do the same with her. He didn’t like that, I can tell you. I’ve told all of this to the police, but they’re useless. Which is why I was counting on you.’

  ‘I can’t exactly go over to their house and start questioning him,’ Dee said. ‘The man’s just lost his daughter. And, as your husband pointed out yesterday, I’m not a detective. I’ve got no right to ask Nigel anything. Joana and Lauren knew each other, so it makes sense to see if Lauren’s murder has anything to do with Joana’s disappearance.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’

  ‘Derek said you have a photo of her,’ Karen said. ‘Can I take a look?’