‘You know the crawlspace in Blackhall Manor where Libby was held?’
‘What about it?’
‘The search team found a gun silencer covered in cobwebs. It’s not related to this case.’
‘Go on.’
Richie took a step towards her. ‘Sarah … it looks like it’s been there years. CSI found fragments of blood on it. It’s been sent for testing.’
‘Oh God,’ Sarah said softly, feeling like she’d been punched in the chest. This was relating to her family’s case. This was in connection with their deaths. But her father didn’t use a silencer. That much she knew. She forced herself to stay calm. Richie’s hand was warm as he touched her arm.
‘Are you OK?’
Needing to distance herself, Sarah took a step back. ‘Whose blood?’ she whispered. ‘You know, don’t you?’
Richie shook his head. ‘Not yet. But it fits the shotgun that killed your family.’
Sarah stared into space, the words a blur as she processed the news. ‘I heard each one of those shots ring out. They were like thunder. The only shot I didn’t hear was my father’s.’ Her cheeks were burning now. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene, but the memory flooded her mind. ‘My ears were ringing after he shot through the wardrobe. My vision was blurry with blood. But I remember lying there, my eyes half open as the police came for me. I should have heard something when my dad turned the gun on himself.’
‘We don’t know anything, not until the results come back.’
‘Who’s authorised the testing?’
‘Bernard. He’s fast-tracked it. He asked me to break the news.’
Sarah nodded in understanding. So that’s why Bernard had called her in to see how she was doing. It was also why he’d instructed Yvonne to go easy on her. But as well as he knew her, he hadn’t been able to break the news himself.
‘Five o’clock, Ms Part-Timer – home time!’ Yvonne’s high-pitched voice broke the moment as she stuck her head in. Some things never changed. She took in Sarah’s face and paused. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Yes,’ Sarah said. But her hands were shaking. ‘Thanks for letting me shadow you, Richie, I’ll leave you in peace now.’
‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘Because if you need to talk …’
‘Nope, all good here. Have a productive evening.’ Forcing one foot before the other, she grabbed her coat and bag.
She needed to get away. She needed time to think. All these years she had blamed her father. What if it was his blood on the silencer? He could have been murdered first … his so-called suicide staged. That must be what Richie was thinking. She saw it written on his face. As Sarah pulled on her coat and left, theories ran wild in her mind. If her father wasn’t responsible for the murder of her family, then who was?
48
Maggie sat next to her husband’s bedside, just as she had done every week for the past year. It was a long and painful process, watching him battle with his illness and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this for. As always, she masked her feelings as she talked to Lewis, who stared vacantly at the wall.
‘And Sarah adopted a turtle in Elliott’s name. Honestly, you should have seen his face. He was so happy. Anyone would think she’d brought it in and physically handed it to him.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘Now all he talks about is turtles. He’s been learning all the facts and even drew up a chart comparing turtles and tortoises. I told him he should get a job in a zoo when he grows up. You know what he said?’ She squeezed her husband’s hand, knowing better than to expect a response. ‘He said he wants to be a marine biologist. Isn’t that great?’
But Lewis’s hand remained limp, his gaze vacant.
Maggie swallowed back the tightness in her throat. She had already told him about this morning’s interview, and how brave Elliott had been. If anything, the investigation had provided her with a talking point. Telling her husband about every facet of her life was better than sitting in silence, listening to the clock tick away each long minute in his company. What she’d give for his support right now. She thought about Yvonne and the way she had spoken to them in such a patronising tone. Recalled the way her face had soured when she spoke Sarah’s name. How she had looked at Elliott, physically shuddering when they first met. Someone should bring her down a peg or two. She walked to the window and stared out into the car park.
‘Not much of a view, you’d think they’d give you better for what it costs to keep you here.’ But there were trees nearby, and sometimes birdsong. Not today. Today everything felt cold and bleak. All the rain from the last week was beginning to turn to ice. Winter was coming and it was biting down hard. She glanced at the skeletal trees, enveloped by a shroud of mist. ‘I’d better not stay too long,’ she said. ‘The fog is coming down.’ Returning to her chair, Maggie crossed her legs. Sarah coming into her life felt like a chance for a new start. She should never have doubted her friend.
Sarah had once asked Maggie if people in Slayton were cursed. How could she tell her that she sometimes wondered if karma was knocking at her door? Maggie was not the true friend that Sarah thought she was. But she had paid for her misdemeanours, hadn’t she? With her husband’s prolonged illness, and her son the way he was. She thought of Elliott and how easy he found it to talk to his new ‘Auntie Sarah’ as he had begun to call her. They had quickly forged a bond and Sarah made him happy. How could she take that away from him? As for Sarah – Maggie knew she saw a little of her brother Robin in him. If she found comfort in their friendship then where was the harm? Maggie’s white lie had been so many years ago. But what started off as a snowball had now become an avalanche. Would Sarah forgive her when she discovered the truth? She needed her friend in her life. Being an army wife had been hard. She’d gotten used to Lewis’s long absences over the years, but now it felt like he would never come home. She couldn’t face the future with just her and Elliott. She needed her friend’s support.
‘I miss you,’ she said, returning her attention to her husband who hadn’t moved an inch. ‘I wish you could tell me what to do.’ But all she heard was the rattle of a medication trolley passing their door and the tick of the clock on the wall.
49
His fleece blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Elliott sucked the last drop of liquid from his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles water bottle. Mummy didn’t like him drinking at bedtime in case he wet the bed but it didn’t come close to quenching his thirst. He needed to speak to Sarah, but he was meant to be asleep. Jahmelia needed his help. Time was running out, and the Midnight Man was getting closer. He could feel him in the shadows, waiting and watching. But the world was so big, and Elliott’s voice was so small.
Maggie had been quiet since coming back from visiting Daddy. When Elliott told her the sandwich she toasted was empty, she looked like she was going to burst into tears. Now, her voice was rising from the hall as she spoke to someone at the front door. Elliott strained to hear. It was Sarah!
