Authors: Faith Mortimer
Clare sat back in her chair. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to relax after questioning Debbie. Opening her eyes, she glanced round the room and for the first time really noticed Roger when he got up and threw more wood on the fire. Up until then, after their brief introduction, he had sat quietly in one corner.
Roger stood up, stretched and turned in her direction. Clare met his stare and felt a tremor go through her.
This man was in some way connected
to the children,
and it was more than just him suggesting Adam visit Cyprus
.
Chapter 19
When Adam came back into the room, Diana made a bee-line for the handsome detective before anyone else got to him. She knew Adam recognised the steely glint in her eye by the way his gaze flicked round the room looking for an escape.
“There’s no way out. You bugger…why didn’t you tell us the real reason for your visit here,” she hissed. “You know we wouldn’t have minded.”
Adam had the grace to look contrite. “Di, I’m sorry. I know I should have explained. But, I honestly didn’t know what to expect. Roger was convinced, but I had to see for myself. I thought if I could have one last word with Yvonne—or Debbie as you know her—in private, no one would ever know,” he sighed. “The whole thing is irregular, but Roger knew how I felt. I planned to have a quiet chat and lay a few ghosts. Then this happened.”
“You’re certainly right there. Anyway, now’s not the time for us to quarrel. Since you’re here, I hope you can help things along. There’s something I’d like to run past you.”
Adam grinned and laughed softly. “I wondered if you’d discovered anything. You never let me down.”
Diana shrugged. “It’s nothing concrete, just a feeling I have. You need to look at the email Debbie and William received this morning. Of course, it can’t be easily traced, since the police say it was sent from an internet cafe. Have a look and see what you think. I’m sure William will be only too happy for you to assist in any way.”
She led him over to the table where Debbie’s laptop was lying and moved the mouse. Adam leant down, quickly read the short message and took in the content of the photographs. When he finished, he straightened up, lifted his eyebrows, and directed his gaze at Diana. “Not a lot to go on, is there? The sender obviously knew Yvonne six years ago and knows about her two new children.”
“I have a theory. Please tell me if I’m wrong, but when children go missing and foul play is expected, don’t the police deliberately withhold at least one piece of information? Am I right in thinking they do this so that they have some help in sifting through the rubbish that comes in from the usual cranks of this world? Look at that sentence the mailer has left…
‘Will your present two children end the same way, strangled with their scarves and lying in a grave?’ What do you think?”
Adam looked back at the screen and slowly nodded his head. “Yes, you’re right. I should have noticed it sooner. Sorry, but I had little sleep last night, finishing off a week’s backlog of
paperwork before we left to come here. If I remember—and Roger will no doubt back me up in this—all newspaper and television accounts six years ago mentioned the two children being discovered and lying strangled in a grave in the woods. But I’m one-hundred-per-cent certain that at no time was there any mention about being strangled with their own scarves. Well, well. So if we assume Yvonne’s—sorry, Debbie’s—innocence, then that person who sent the emails must be one of a very small circle of people who knew about the scarves.”
Diana felt her face flame in excitement. “The person who kidnapped and probably murdered Sally and Stuart is the same person who sent the emails and has abducted Hannah and Charlie. My God! He or she must have found out Debbie was living here, maybe followed her every move.”
“We need to question her and see whether she can remember anything else. She’s not going to confess to anything, but we can accept her innocence as a fact in both cases. We have to convince the Cypriot police too.” Adam spoke quietly while casting a quick look round the room. “What is it with that inspector? He certainly has a rod up his backside and dislikes you, darling girl.”
Diana stiffened and flashed him a dark look. “Don’t you dare start calling me that again. I thought we’d got over all that. And yes, the inspector and I don’t exactly hit it off.”
He smiled. “Have you meddled in one of his earlier investigations?”
She pursed her lips. “Maybe. Oh, all right. I solved a crime in the village before Poppy was born, and he’s never forgiven me. He blames me for his lack of promotion. He’s a real pain sometimes.”
“Even so, he is an inspector, so he must have half a brain at least. He’ll cotton on as soon as I explain more of the original case to him. I’ll spell out the lead concerning the children’s scarves.”
Diana eyed Adam doubtfully. “Perhaps you can. There’s one other supposition to all this, I’m thinking.”
“What’s that?” Adam asked.
“If the killer is one and the same, then he or she has been living here for a while. They must have been watching Debbie and the children for some time. There’s the photo of them all on the beach during the summer for instance. A chilling thought, don’t you think?”
Adam looked worried on hearing her words, and Diana knew what he was thinking. Without waiting, she hurriedly whispered, “If he abducted the children this morning, then the killer may have already killed them. Please don’t let that be true.” Diana went hot and cold all over as she thought of that possibility. “I need some air,” she gasped and fled outside with Adam following on her heels.
“Okay. Take it easy,” he said as she stood leaning against the outside wall with her eyes tightly closed. “Take slower breaths, otherwise you’ll over-inhale and faint. Jesus, it’s cold. I thought Cyprus was a land of permanent sunshine?”
Diana calmed down, her breath under control and blew out sharply. “It is normally. Believe me this is unusual.” They both stood watching the snow which was still steadily falling. The footprints made by the search teams were already obliterated.
“There is one other thing, Adam,” she said after a moment’s silence. “Looking at it from a slightly different angle. If we’ve removed Debbie as a suspect, it is equally possible that someone else...someone who never came forward during the original case, but who knew something about the murders, wrote that email and abducted Charlie and Hannah. Or even both kidnappings are unrelated. It could be a coincidence, I suppose. You know, a frustrated woman who’s lost her baby.”
“I don’t believe that and neither do you,” he said. “But there is one thing I do believe. Debbie Frost knew more than she said about her first two children’s disappearance.” Despite Diana’s look of surprise, he carried on. “No, I’m not saying she’s guilty. She just didn’t tell us everything.”
“Maybe because she couldn’t, Adam. She’s so shocked at the moment, and most probably she was equally shocked the first time. She says she lost her memory back then and finds part of her past life confusing…maybe it was all to do with the loss of her parents. Did you know they were killed in a car accident?”
He nodded as he huddled deeper into his jacket. “I vaguely remember something like that. What I do remember is that half of the time she acted like she was out of it. She was so imprecise when she stood on the witness stand.”
Diana stood away from the wall and blew on her hands. “If Debbie knows something about the death of her first two children, she might be able to help us find these two. Although I know nothing about clairvoyance, Clare may be able to help with hypnosis. Can we go back in, I’m frozen now.”
“Of course, now you’re under control. I have no idea what, if anything, Clare can do. This is the first time I’ve heard about her so-called powers. It sounds far-fetched if you ask me.”
“Maybe, but we can try. Clare swears she feels something, that the two children are very much alive. As I understand it, the problem is to extract any hidden knowledge Debbie possesses. Knowledge she doesn’t even know she has.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” he grumbled. “Stranger things have happened. I’m not a complete dinosaur. I do listen to sensible suggestions.”
Diana risked another look in his direction before moving towards the doorway. Was he being sarcastic? “Debbie needs to reveal what she knows about this morning’s events. Of course, there may be nothing new there, but also anything about the past.”
They went back into the house and shivered as the warmth enveloped them. “Brr, that’s better,” she said, making her way towards the snug. She stopped at the doorway and took in the scene before them.
Debbie was lying back on the settee, with a cushion tucked beneath her head. Clare was sitting beside her, speaking in a soft voice. Debbie seemed to be asleep; she appeared relaxed, and there was some colour in her face. William looked tormented standing by the stove, clutching the mantelpiece for support. Roger and Steve were standing near the window. Roger was pale and thin, and Diana wondered if he was in any pain from his cancer. As she watched, Roger rearranged his yellow scarf around his neck and pulled his coat around his shoulders. The room wasn’t that warm.
Clare glanced across at Adam as he was about to speak and shook her head, mouthing a ‘Hush’. Realizing what was happening, Diana sank down into the nearest vacant chair to Debbie, while Adam moved across to stand by William.
“Debbie, how do you feel?” Clare asked in a serene, low voice. “Are you comfortable?”
“I’m scared…” Debbie answered without opening her eyes.
“Why?”
“I’m frightened ...the children…the children, they’re…”
“Debbie. Can we talk about this morning? I mean first thing, after you woke up.”
“I had a dream. I’m always dreaming.”
“What was the dream about?”
“I dreamt about Sally and Stuart. I always dream the same…about how big they’d be now. It’s six years since they went…” There was a strangled noise from her, and then Debbie began to cry. When her cries turned to sobs, William made a move towards his wife, but was held back by Adam’s vice-like grip and a warning shake of his head.
Debbie’s voice rose against her sobs. “How could I have done that? How could I have killed them? They…they were my children! How could I have killed them…?”
Chapter 20
The sleet beat a tattoo against the window glass. The sky was filled with black clouds, and cold air seemed to seep into the house, swirling around those people gathered in the deepening gloom. It was a frightful day. If only the weather were decent, the fields and ravines would be filled with men and women searching for Charlie and Hannah. But in that weather, only a proportion of the local population would have thought of going out. The police had given up for the day, and many felt it was now a useless search anyway.
The wind was howling around the house with a bleak, mournful sound. Upstairs, a door slammed causing Diana to jump. It was a savage day in more ways than one. And, if she believed Clare, then not that far away, two children were lying trussed together, shivering under a rank smelling rug. The boy was conscious. A lock of his hair rested on his forehead, while his eyes were filled with terror. He could not scream because his mouth was securely bound with gaffer tape. The man roughly pushed the boy aside and reached for the little girl, untying the rope. He moved her limp body to one side and gazed down, his face slaked with lust.
Debbie was clutching frantically at her clothes. Her fingers fluttered in her agitation. Clare firmly covered her hands with her own and stroked the back of her wrist. Debbie’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps.
“Debbie. Debbie, please listen to me. Everyone here knows that you wouldn’t hurt your own children. We know you couldn’t hurt them. That’s what you meant just now, isn’t it?”
Debbie sobbed in her laboured breaths. “Yes. People think I hurt them. How could I have? How could I have killed them? They were mine. My children…a part of me died with them.”
“I understand. We all die a little when we lose people we love. Debbie, can you think back before all this trouble began? What was your own childhood like?”
Diana looked at Clare with respect. She had an inkling she knew where she was trying to lead Debbie.
“My childhood?” Debbie whispered. Diana saw her body relax against the settee cushions.
“Yes. What were your parents like? Did you have a happy childhood?”
Adam moved restlessly next to William, and his boot squeaked against the wooden floorboards. Diana shot him a warning glance to keep still. He frowned and looked towards the reclining woman.
“Mum and Dad were fun. We had some great times together. I got on really well with them.” A smile had come into her voice, seeming to radiate happiness around the room.
William stood up straighter with a surprised look upon his face, and Diana realised he had never heard Debbie speak in that tone before. Debbie looked animated and happy; there was even a tinkle of laughter in her words.
Diana listened intently to Debbie. She approved of the calm manner in which Clare was conducting her hypnotherapy. She was trying to gain her confidence by relaxing her. Debbie needed to be tranquil before she was put through the torture of going over that horrific day’s events six years ago.
The lights flickered and then went off. Everyone tried to stifle their surprised groans because they didn’t want to break the scene Clare had set. The only light came from the glow of the wood-burning stove. William hastily groped for a box of matches resting on the mantelpiece and lit any candles that were dotted around the room. The candles threw a yellow luminosity which danced and blended with the harsh red flames from the fire. Debbie lay completely still, bathed in in a rosy glow, while the others sat in the deeper shadows. With the power failure, it seemed to Diana as if the hiss of sleet and snow against the house and the moaning of the wind against the roof tiles intensified. If the children were out in this weather, they would surely freeze. It was uncanny, unheard of. Cyprus
never
had weather as bad as it was that day. She shivered involuntarily as she thought about Hannah and Charlie. Thank goodness her own little Poppy was safe at her friend’s house.
Diana turned her attention back to Clare and Debbie. Debbie was talking once more. “Daddy said I was his girl. Mummy was too, but I was extra special because I was so little.”
“Was that okay, Debbie? Did you mind being his special girl? Did it upset you in any way?”
“No, no! It was fine. He took us to some lovely places and bought beautiful presents. He said he wanted us to be happy. It was just different from…it wasn’t like that time at all...I thought…” Debbie’s voice rose another octave in protest.
Diana leant nearer to Debbie in alarm while Clare held up a hand warning her to stay where she was. She gave a barely perceptible shake of her head and turned her gaze back onto Debbie. Her voice was low and soothing as she continued. “It’s all right, Debbie. You have no worries about that. Shall we talk about later times? What about when you were working? Didn’t you work in the university book shop? Were you happy there?”
“Yes, I was. Mum and Dad weren’t that far away really, and I enjoyed my work. I met lots of interesting young people. They were happy I was doing what I wanted. They both said it was important I could be independent. And I started going out with boys. They were always keen to know about my boyfriends, so I took some home to meet them.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad they were happy.”
“The book shop was fun, and the manager, James, was eager for me to get on. He thought I could easily become a manager like him one day. Except I was useless with figures.” Debbie moved restlessly on the settee. Her manner had changed, and Diana thought she looked troubled. “It was hard. I was never good at maths at school. But I was determined to get on and prove James right. James couldn’t spend as much time as he wanted helping me, he had a young family of his own and ran the local scout troop. Besides, I think his wife was jealous of the time he did spend with me, after work.”
“So what happened? Did you take the book-keeping exams?”
“Not for a while. It wasn’t until Claude Brookes came into my life and said he could easily help me. It was one of his subjects, you see. He had an office on the university campus, and he went over the syllabus with me. After a while, it all made sense. He was a good tutor. He said I needed to spend much more time studying the subject, and if I did, I’d pass easily. I just needed more confidence. He said I was wasting my time going out with too many boys, and if I carried on I’d never pass, and I’d regret it later. If I really wanted to become a manager, I had to knuckle down. He also said because I was spending too much time socialising, I’d become sick, I needed more rest. He was really concerned, and he even bought me some vitamins and an iron tonic. I hadn’t realised how right he was until he pointed this out. I was tired and had started to feel run-down and disheartened.”
“What about you parents during this time? Did you see them much?”
“Not so much. Because I was worn out, I didn’t want to upset them. I wanted to get on with my studies and surprise them. I’d never been much of a student before, you see. I think they must have guessed something was wrong with me because they came down to see me. Claude invited them to his house, and they stayed for tea. I even made a cake. It was…I can’t remember…but I think it was a nice afternoon until they left. And, my God! And then they were killed! It was all my fault, because they came down to see me! They were worried!” Debbie’s voice rose to a shriek. “They were in a car crash and were killed!”
William made a move towards her, and again, Adam placed a restraining hand on his arm. Debbie’s face was twisted with pain.
“But Claude was there, wasn’t he? He helped you when your parents died? He saw to everything. He was good to you.”
There was a pause, and Debbie’s voice was low in the softly lit room. “Yes. He was so good to me. I didn’t have to worry. Claude saw to everything.”
“Was this when you married him?”
“Yes, it was soon after. He said he’d love to take care of me. I couldn’t do anything you see, I was so exhausted and miserable.”
Diana bent forward and whispered in Clare’s ear. Clare stared at her for a second before continuing. “Debbie, you mustn’t blame yourself for your parents’ deaths. The accident wasn’t your fault.”
“Accident?” Debbie’s legs moved in agitation and her voice sounded uncertain. “Accident? But it wasn’t. It wasn’t an accident.”
Clare risked a glance towards Diana, who nodded encouragingly. “Of course it was.”
Diana felt her muscles tighten.
“I thought…I thought…”
“It’s all right. Take it slowly. Tell us more about your husband, Claude.”
“Claude? He was kind. I was really sick after my parents died, and he had to do so much for me.”
“Yes. How was he kind to you? What did he do?”
”I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Debbie, why not?”
“No. I just don’t”
There was a pause while Clare pushed her hair from her eyes, and Diana realised that from the sheen on her forehead she was sweating despite the cooling room.
“That’s all right. Tell us about Sally and Stuart.”
“They were such lovely, good children.”
“Well behaved? That’s nice”
“So good. Maybe too good.”
“Debbie you keep saying how everyone was good. Claude was good to you, and now, the children were good. It must have been a very happy marriage.”
“Happy? I was so weary, though…”
“Why do you think that was?”
“Claude said I was very sick, and he was good to me.”
“Yes, you’ve said that. So how was Claude good to you?”
“He said he was going to make sure I got better. He said if I was a good little girl, I would.”
“In what way were you sick? Had you hurt yourself at all?”
“No…I was just so whacked out all the time, and Claude helped me. I suppose it was having the children.”
“How did Claude help you?”
Again, Debbie paused. Then, “I…I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Why not? You must, Debbie. What did Claude do?”
“I’m tired...too tired now.”
“That’s all right, Debbie. You need to rest. We’ll talk again in a few minutes. Lie still and rest.” Clare got up and stretched. Everyone realised they had been holding their breath and gave themselves a little mental shake. Adam wandered over to Clare and, taking her by the arm, led her off into a corner with Diana keeping just in earshot.
“This isn’t going anywhere,” Adam hissed in Clare’s ear. You could spend hours talking to her, and where’s the proof that you’re going to discover anything relevant? Debbie blames herself for her parents’ car accident. What does that prove? Now either put a stop to these shenanigans or get something concrete out of her about her first two children’s murders. We’re wasting time.”
Clare pulled her arm from his grasp and rubbed it angrily. “Ow! You hurt me. She
is
starting to talk. You just have to listen. I believe there’s a great deal that her subconscious doesn’t want to bring to the surface. She can’t face it.”
“And I don’t want to waste more time on a load of hogwash. If there’s any chance that Charlie and Hannah are still alive, I’d rather do something positive,” he snapped.
Diana moved nearer towards the candlelight so she could see the expression on his face. “Adam, I think Clare
is
getting somewhere. There’s something mysterious, sinister even, about her first husband. Debbie seems pretty shaken up about her parents’ accident. And her husband seemed to like being in total control of her, too. Look how he suggested she was dating too much. He persuaded her to stop dating other men. Maybe…”
“Maybe what? Claude was involved? What the hell? Listen, you two, I won’t be able to live with myself if there’s any chance those kids are still alive and we lose them because of wasting time.”
“They are alive. I’m positive. Since coming here, I can feel their presence more strongly. I…I think they’re being held in the dark, maybe in a cupboard or even underground. There’s a feeling of water near them, too.”
“Water!” Adam scoffed. “I’m not surprised with all this bloody snow lying around. And as for their presence, well, is it surprising since this is their home?”
Clare gave him a withering look. “All right, I’ll get on with asking her about this morning. First, though, I need to ask about the day her other two children disappeared. I’m sure there’s a link, and she may tell us without realising.”
Adam turned away in disgust while Diana smiled reassuringly “It’s getting late. Go for it, girl. Get her to describe the events of that day.”
When Clare and Diana crossed the room back to Debbie’s side, they found William sitting on the arm of the settee, one of her hands held gently in his. Debbie was very still, hardly breathing. Roger and Steve were in their corner, staring into the fire. Clare retook her seat, and Debbie let out a groan.
Clare leaned towards Debbie and said softly, “Everything’s going to be all right. It’s okay.”
William tenderly brushed the hair from Debbie’s face and kissed her cheek. “She’s right, darling. Everything is going to be all right, my darling little girl.”
Debbie gave a violent shudder. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, knocking William’s hand from her face. “I am
not
your darling little girl! Don’t you dare call me your little girl!” she screamed.
Chapter 21
Philip Bolton watched the police as they half-heartedly retraced their footsteps across the fields in front of his house. He guessed it was time for their shift to end, and they were looking forward to going off duty. The weather was in his favour, and it was by now pitch black outside, the power failure compounding the darkness. The police had called on him a second time that day, and when they pounded on his front door, for one heart-stopping moment he thought they suspected him.
He appeared harmless and aged as he stood in his well-worn slippers and baggy sweater, holding a lit candle above his shoulder. With a feigned geniality he invited them into his hallway and out of the cold.
“No. I’m sorry, but I’ve already told your colleagues earlier I’ve seen nothing you could say looked suspicious around here.”
“Have you been out today?” one young constable asked, while the other quietly poked his head around the door into the living room. He noted nothing out of the usual except candles guttering in the draft and flickering shadows.
“I’ve only been up to the village to buy some fresh eggs and a couple of pasties from The Magic Teapot. I didn’t stay long.”
“Who did you talk to?”
“Geraldine. You can check if you like, I don’t mind.”