Dying to Know (A Detective Inspector Berenice Killick Mystery) (33 page)

‘Whatever
you like, dear.’

He
placed his box carefully on his chair, and headed out to the kitchen.

Chad
stared at the floor. My wife, he thought. It’s so long since I asked her anything at all.

‘What
are you thinking?’ Virginia broke the silence.

He
didn’t know what to say. The true answer would have been, Liam Phelps, but he didn’t want to say that.

‘Loss,’
she said. ‘That seems to be why I’ve been put on this earth. To have everything taken away from me.’ Her voice cracked with feeling. She stared straight ahead, her lips working.

He
reached across and placed his hand on her arm. She touched his hand with her own.

‘I
don’t know how to help you,’ he said.

She
shook her head. ‘It’s enough you’re here,’ she said. ‘Though I don’t suppose I should keep you here much longer. You must be expected back home.’

Home.

He
looked at the low damp walls and dusty unused stove. It felt warmer than the vicarage.

‘I
can stay for a while,’ he said.

 

It was Helen who let herself into the empty house, surprised by the darkness. She switched on lights, called her husband’s name, hearing nothing in reply.

She
went up to the bedroom, reached for the lamp beside the bed, lay down on the covers.

I
wonder where he is.

Liam
had brought her home. A taxi from the hotel to the lab, to get his car, and then he’d driven as far as the end of the lane and stopped. A silent agreement had passed between them, that they didn’t want the car to be seen. And now he’d gone.

A
tumble of memories. His soft kisses, his taut muscularity. A tangle of sheets, white in the slash of street light from the window. Breathlessness, wetness, pleasure, oh God such pleasure…

She
thought, with a tightening sensation that was, perhaps, guilt, that must never happen again.

She
thought, with a tightening sensation that was definitely desire, I can’t wait to see him again.

And
then she thought, I wonder where Chad is.

She
had been silent on the drive home, imagining how it would be, facing her husband, explaining her lateness, she’d worked it all out, ‘oh, I had to drive one of the ballet kids home, these negligent parents, and of course it’s always the wealthy ones, one of those great big townhouses on the other side of the hill…’

And
now here she was in an empty house. No need to explain. No need to account for herself at all.

She
got up from the bed and went to have a shower.

 

When Chad did appear, an hour or so later, Helen was standing at the stove with a sizzling pan in front of her.

‘Omelette?’
she said. ‘You’re just in time.’

The
kitchen was brightly lit and warm. He smiled, went to her, wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘Yes please,’ he said.

Her
face was against his chest. ‘Where have you been?’ she said, into his shirt.

‘I
was with Virginia. I told you I was going there…’

‘Yes,’
she said. ‘Of course.’

He
let go of her, and she went back to the frying pan. She heard the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, the distant chiming of the clock in the living room. Calm, quiet sounds, the bubbling of the eggs in the pan in front of her.

‘Tobias
saw something odd, the night that Murdo died. One man, carrying another up Hank’s Tower.’

‘Oh.’
She looked up from her cooking. ‘How extraordinary.’

‘She’s
adamant that the police shouldn’t know.’

‘Oh,’
she said again. She reached for the cheese grater.

‘She’s
exhausted, poor woman. I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to bring Tobias even further into the frame. It was all tied up with tales of ghosts, too.’

She
watched him pour two glasses of wine. The kitchen was bright and light and warm, and already, it seemed to her, Liam had become something faded and thin, drifting away beyond the steamed-up windows, into the night.

She
lifted the pan from the heat and placed it on the table mat. ‘Let’s eat,’ she said.

 

Liam unlocked the door to his empty flat. He felt light-hearted, awash with delight. ‘Like a man,’ he said to himself, wondering at the same time whether that is, truly, what it is to be a man, thinking of her body, her breasts, the deep, urgent possession of her. He recognizes this lightness of spirit as familiar, and temporary, and destined to fade.

But
while the feeling lasts, he pours himself a whisky, opens kitchen cupboards in search of food, finds some spaghetti, boils the kettle, even humming to himself, humming, me, he thinks, I never hum, enjoy it while it lasts, he thinks, pouring water into the saucepan, searching for a jar of sauce, and so fails to see the three missed calls from Neil on his mobile.

It’s
only much much later, when he’s back at his computer, poring over the results from the lab, wondering about these results, still so inexplicable, that he glances at his phone, and thinks, well I’ll see him in the morning.

 

“My husband believes that all will be well. He does not see the chaos that surrounds us, the whirls and the eddies, the warning signs of the flood that is readying to rush in over our heads. For me, it is too late. I do not care. I have no reason to live or die. I follow my husband, because what God has joined together, no man must put asunder.”

Helen
held the pages in her hand.

There
was a ticking of central heating. Chad had gone to bed some time ago.

They’d
eaten, exchanging bits of conversation, the budget figures for the Parish Council, the changes to the syllabus from the Associated Board.

It
had been normal life, she thought.

And
yet, so far from normal.

She’d
come in here to delay the moment of sliding into bed next to him.

Let
no man put asunder.

Had
she imagined Chad’s distance, some hesitation as he bent and kissed the top of her head, ‘don’t stay up too late, will you?’

She
leaned back among the cushions.

She
thought about the warnings of the flood to come, the chaos that would ‘rush in over our heads…’

This
is what I’ve brought about. This loneliness. I can’t ask him what he’s thinking. I can’t hold him to account, even though he came back late and distracted, and he’d been at Virginia’s all that time…

She
looked down at the pages in her hand. Had they stayed together, this troubled couple? And what of these Van Mielens that link them to Elizabeth at the lab, that are connected to that poor injured girl?

Helen
got up, smoothed the sofa, tidied the cushions. Something is still buried, she thought. The warnings are still there, whirling and eddying, ready to rush in as a flood over our heads.

She
walked up the stairs in stockinged feet. A few minutes later she crept into bed beside her sleeping husband.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

‘What
did you tell them?’ Clem Voake turned to face his daughter, stooping against the low caravan ceiling.

‘I
said, Dad. I didn’t tell them nothing.’

Tazer
sat by Lisa’s feet, her eyes fixed on Clem.

‘Why
did you go running to them, then?’

‘I
didn’t go to the feds. I told you.’

Clem
slumped onto a seat. Tazer winced as he moved.

‘I’ve
got a plan, girl. You know I have. I ain’t going to let you down.’ He reached for a can of beer and snapped it open.

‘Yes,
Dad. I know.’ She sat down, wearily.

‘It’s
nearly all in place now. They can try and take it away from me, but they ain’t going to win. Not now. I’ve had enough, see.’

‘Yes,
Dad.’ There was a packet of crisps open on the table, and she reached for it.

‘All
my life, I’ve been waiting. That’s how I got by, when I were a kid. Whatever they were doing to me, I would hold it here, in my heart - ’ he bashed his fist against his chest. ‘A dream. The old house, right, the old tunnel… that bloke, that scientist, he made dreams come true… before the flood. And when I found out he was family, right, I knew it would come to me…’

She
took two more crisps, passed one to the dog who was still at her feet.

‘…
it was like he’d passed it on to me. That knowledge. I just had to keep the dream close to my heart. Whatever they were doing, however angry it made me, I knew they couldn’t take it away from me. So when I heard that Moffatt was trying to get it away from me…’

‘Yes,
Dad. You’ve told me all this.’ Her voice was tired.

He
looked at her. ‘So why did you go telling them?’

‘I’ve
told you. It was Finn, innit. He said I needed help - ’

‘I
won’t have you seeing that boy? You hear me? I’m all you need, you’re my little girl, I’m going to take care of you - ’

‘Yes,
Dad. I know.’

‘When
I get that house. A big house, it is, you’ve seen it. You’ll have the best of everything, I’ll show that whore of a mother and her pimp - ’

His
phone trilled in his pocket. He snatched it up. ‘Manny - ’ He listened. The flush of his cheeks faded. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Ta for the warning.’ He clicked off his phone. He stared ahead of him.

‘Dad
– what’s happened?’

‘It’s
coming true,’ he said. ‘What they always said, that the flood would come and wash it all clean. That lab – that new tunnel - ’ He was clenching his fists in front of him, and his breathing was uneven.

Tazer
gave a quiet snarl.


– they should never have made a new tunnel. The truth is in the old tunnel…’

‘Dad
- ’

He
looked at her, his eyes blank. ‘There’s more trouble for us. They’ve found… at the lab… that other one who was out to get it…’ He stared around the caravan as if unsure of where he was. ‘We’ve got to go. We’ve got to get out of here.’ He stumbled to his feet, drained his can of beer. ‘We’ve got to go.’

‘Where,
Dad – what’s happening - ’

He
grabbed her arm. ‘If you hadn’t gone telling that vicar - ’

‘I
didn’t tell anyone, Dad - ’

‘And
now they’ll think - ’ He was pushing her out of the caravan.

‘Where
are we going? – Dad – ’

Lisa
was shouting but he didn’t seem to hear.

‘There’ll
be more than just the feds after us - ’

She
was fighting him, struggling against the grip of his big hands on her wrists.

‘It’s
time,’ he said. ‘This is it. This is when we make a new life. This is when the dream comes true.’

They
were out in the field, now, and he was dragging her towards his van. Tazer growled and jumped at his legs.

‘Where?’
Lisa shouted at him. ‘Where are we gonna make a new life?’ She broke away from him, but he grabbed her shoulders, one arm round her neck.

‘It’ll
still be you, Dad. You and me. You ain’t gonna get away from you, are you? Whatever your shit, you’re stuck with it - ’

‘I
won’t let them get us. I won’t have your mother trying to get you back – I won’t let them win – ’

She
twisted away from him, but he grabbed her hair.

‘Ow,
Dad – ’ He pushed Lisa into the van, slammed the doors, started the engine.

The
tyres spun as he turned the van round, spattering mud across the site.

Tazer,
sat, whimpering, watching them go.

 

Amelia
sat
by
the
window
.
She
knew
where
her
husband
was
. ‘
The
new
experiment
,

he
called
it
. ‘
The
tunnel
.

He’d
leave
his
laboratory
,
his
workbench
,
and
he’d
walk
towards
the
sea
,
towards
the
Scallop
Tower
.
Once
she’d
followed
him
,
some
of
the
way
,
until
she
sensed
his
awareness
of
her
,
and
turned
back
.
All
she
knew
was
that
there
was
another
laboratory
,
somewhere
near
the
Tower
,
perhaps
even
at
the
Tower
.

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