by Sarah Hilary
‘These children …’ Connie moved her hands to the photos of Carmen and Tommy, stopping short of touching them. ‘He loves them. Whatever else you might think of him, you can be sure of that.’
She looked up at Noah. ‘Matt was the best father I ever knew. I never met a man with a bigger heart. Until she broke it.’
15
Carmen and Tommy were safe. You’d seen to that.
You knew you couldn’t take any risks, not with the children. Especially not now, with Esther out of prison. You had to move them, just like you had to move Fred and Archie.
No one’s safe from Esther, not ever.
You knew she’d come straight back, if they ever let her go.
She never left, not really. Like you. You never left them. They were safe with you for a while, but you’re a coward, the same as always. You tried so hard not to be.
You tried to be something new, something more.
For Beth and the babies. Carmen and Tommy, and the new one on the way. A second chance to prove you could be more than the coward who let them down, let them die.
Be a man.
You wanted to be that.
You were a good dad, everyone said so.
Just not when it mattered most.
You were good with Carmen and Tommy. Patient, careful. You kept them safe.
Clancy too, except he didn’t want it. Looked at you as if you were a threat. As if safety was a threat. You had to show him. You had to explain.
If he’d known the things you knew …
‘You could have someone’s eye out with this!’
A wire coat hanger. He’d brought a wire coat hanger into the house.
After everything you’d told him, all the warnings.
‘Look at it!’
You straightened the thing the way she did, the sharp end of the hook refashioned as a point, something that could stab holes in anything, anyone.
You wrapped the rest of the metal around your fist and showed him – ‘Look at it!’ – what a weapon looked like.
16
‘We need someone who knows Terry Doyle,’ Marnie said. ‘Where he might have gone, and what he’s capable of.’
‘He was at the house after the little ones went missing.’ Debbie shook her head. ‘He stayed with Beth for over an hour, then he was cleaning, making supper … Ed Belloc was with him. I honestly thought everything was all right. I mean, it crossed my mind that he might go looking for the kids, but I never thought he’d taken them. I never thought for a second there was any chance of that.’
‘None of us did,’ Marnie told her. She was very calm.
Too calm, Noah thought. He tried to imagine how he’d cope if it was Dan who was missing, but his imagination short-circuited.
‘Why did he come back to the house,’ Debbie said, ‘if he’d taken them? Where were they while he came back to the house? With Clancy?’
‘He was terrified,’ Noah said. ‘When we told him the children were missing. He was absolutely terrified. I don’t think he was faking that. Do you?’
Marnie said, ‘I don’t know. It didn’t look like it, but this is a man who was living with the bodies of his dead boys for twelve months before he called the police. A man who received no treatment for what he went through five years ago. Esther had Lyn Birch, and medication. Matt didn’t have anything, as far as I can gather.’
They all looked at the whiteboard, the new photographs pinned there.
Connie had given Noah a family portrait: Matt and Esther Reid with Fred and Archie and baby Louisa. Esther had been a striking young woman. Alison was an inch shorter and eight pounds heavier, her hair thin and brittle. Matt, too, had changed. Terry Doyle was still handsome, but Matt’s eyes were brighter, his face softer, unlined. There was nothing left of Esther and Matt Reid. There was only Alison Oliver and Terry Doyle, two half-people who didn’t really exist, their new identities purchased for the price of a passport.
Ed Belloc’s photograph was on the whiteboard too.
Commander Welland was organising a hostage negotiation team. They were trying to trace Ed’s phone, and the phone registered to Terry Doyle. Nothing was in Matt Reid’s name. Not the car that Terry drove, or his credit cards. Welland’s team was trying to locate the car.
‘One thing we can clear up,’ Marnie said. ‘The haloperidol that Beth found in Clancy’s bag was part of a prescription for Esther. She stopped taking the pills when she was pregnant with Louisa. We have to assume Terry kept the pills and Clancy found them.’
‘Terry kept his wife’s pills?’ Debbie said. ‘Isn’t that a bit weird?’
‘Perhaps he hoped she’d start taking them again. Or he wanted something to hold on to, a memory of when she was well, or the hope that she might be made better.’
‘Clancy’s a sharp kid,’ Debbie said. ‘Won’t he have found out what the pills were for? He could’ve googled the name …’
‘Maybe he did. Maybe he asked Terry awkward questions, which Terry couldn’t answer without giving away the secrets he was keeping.’
‘How did he know where his boys were buried?’ Ron asked. ‘That’s what I want to know. If he went looking, that means he knew they weren’t drowned. How? When the police didn’t have a clue? How sure are we that he’s a good guy?’
Marnie said, ‘Esther’s medical records, the police reports … There’s no evidence at any point that Matt was anything other than a victim. He tried to keep his family together. Social workers said the children were safe with him. Doctors discharged Esther into his care. We might think that was a wicked thing to do, but they clearly had faith in his ability to look after her, and the children.’
‘Until he didn’t …’ Ron shook his head at the whiteboard.
‘Connie doesn’t miss a trick,’ Noah said. ‘She said Matt was the best father she’d known. She wouldn’t have said that if there was any chance he had a hand in their deaths.’
Ron conceded, rubbing at his face. ‘Poor bastard …’
‘He wouldn’t hurt them,’ Debbie said, ‘would he? Carmen and Tommy. He wouldn’t hurt them. I saw them together, when I took that bag to the safe house … The kiddies love him to bits, and he loves them. I’d swear to it.’
‘Connie says the same thing. She thinks he panicked,’ Noah said, ‘when the parole office got in touch. Maybe he was scared of Esther going back to where she left the boys. He might’ve taken the children to a safe place … Beth said the house we put them in didn’t feel safe. If I was Terry? I’d be paranoid about safety.’
‘We should check inside number 14,’ Marnie said. ‘The PCSO says the house is secure, no one’s been inside since we sealed the garden, but there might be clues of some kind to Terry’s state of mind.’
‘You think Belloc went with him voluntarily?’ Ron asked. It was the first time anyone on the team had referred directly to Ed’s disappearance.
Marnie threw Ron a look. ‘His phone’s switched off. But that doesn’t mean he’s a hostage. It’s possible he’s trying to help. He was worried about Terry, I know that much.’
‘What’s Beth got to say? Did she really not know?’
‘That Terry was Matt Reid? No. She’s admitted they lied about Clancy being fostered. She says he’s the son of one of Terry’s friends, but she’s insisting Terry put their names down to be foster parents, that they would have been fostering Clancy officially, once the paperwork went through. Terry was handling all of that. Even after we told her about Matt and Esther Reid, she believes what he told her.’
‘Dozy cow,’ Ron muttered.
‘Terry said Clancy’s parents were wrapped up in some strange business. Those were his words. They had too much money and were obsessed with security; Clancy had a personal alarm he had to carry everywhere. The alarm went through to a private security outfit.’
Marnie nodded at Colin Pitcher, the team’s data analyst. ‘I’ve got the name of the security firm. There might be a lead there.’ She looked at the others. ‘Beth said Terr
y wanted to live on Blackthorn Road because of the views and the space. He said the garden at number 14 got more sun, despite the beech trees. He loved the trees.’
‘He knew,’ Ron said, ‘about the bunker. He must’ve known. If he made a fuss about which house … He knew where the kids were buried. Maybe the trees were a clue. My two love climbing. If Fred and Archie were the same …’ He shook his head.
‘Terry did the gardens in the whole road,’ Noah said, ‘isn’t that what Beth told us? He was looking for the right bunker, but how did he know any of the bunkers were there?’
‘Ian Merrick,’ Marnie said. ‘Esther worked for Merrick, and Merrick was a builder, which meant land, secure hiding places … As Terry Doyle, he got a job with Merrick doing landscape gardening. Odd jobs, so his name isn’t on the paperwork, but it’s possible he was part of the team that put down the show gardens on Blackthorn Road. If that’s the case, he had plenty of opportunity for digging.’ She paused. ‘There’s another connection we need to look into. Merrick built a panic room for Clancy Brand’s parents. Terry worked on the Brands’ garden. That’s how he met Clancy.’
‘Which means that shonky bloody builder knew exactly what was going on.’ Ron scowled at Merrick’s name on the whiteboard.
‘Where is Merrick?’ Noah asked. ‘Did we track him down?’
‘We left messages,’ Ron said. ‘And we sent someone to his house. No one’s there.’
‘Let’s find him.’ Marnie nodded at the paperwork. ‘And let’s find out about his sites. If Terry persuaded him to give up the location of the bunkers, perhaps he persuaded him to share his other hiding places. That could be where Terry’s gone with the children. Find out which of Merrick’s sites have CCTV we can access.’
She straightened up. ‘We need someone who knows Terry, and Matt. Someone who knows what’s going through his head right now, and what he’s capable of.’
‘Esther,’ Noah said. ‘Esther knows.’
17
Alison Oliver folded her scarred hands on the interview table. She was still refusing a cup of tea, or even water, despite her cracked lips. ‘I won’t ever forgive myself,’ she said. ‘In case you think that’s on the cards, it’s not.’
‘What about Esther?’ Marnie said. ‘Connie’s forgiven her. Have you?’
‘You’ve been speaking with my therapist, Lyn.’ Dry humour in her voice, before she extracted it. ‘Esther’s different. It’s been a long time since she spoke to me, or anyone. It’s a shame. She was always much better at talking than I am.’ She moved her mouth. ‘I know I sound crazy. I do know that. But it’s Alison I can’t forgive.’ She touched her chest. ‘Me. I can’t hide behind Esther any longer. I did, for years, but not now.’
From the speech, it was easy to imagine that she’d made peace with her past. But Marnie could smell it on her. Grief, and pain. Bone-deep, with-you-forever pain.
‘Why did you come back?’ she asked.
‘For the same reason Matt did,’ Alison said simply. ‘To be near them.’
‘Knowing it was breaking the terms of your parole?’
‘Where else could I have gone? There’s no starting over, whatever they tell you. There’s only what happened, what you did. That thing, that place. You can’t ever let it go, any more than you can let go of your own skin. It’s always with you, because it is you.’
‘Didn’t it hurt, to go back?’
‘Yes,’ Alison said emphatically, as if Marnie had named the silver lining.
‘Lyn Birch told us you were ready to move on. Is that not true?’
‘Move where? Where would I go? I murdered my children.’
‘Manslaughter,’ Noah said. ‘It was manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility.’
Alison looked at him with a terrible pity, the kind that came from staring too long into the pit of the past. Noah had seen his share of frightening people. Psychopaths, sociopaths and stone-cold killers. Alison Oliver – Esther Reid – was in another league. She wore her damage like armour. No wonder Terry had panicked at the idea of her parole.
‘You’ve forgiven Esther …’ Marnie began.
‘Because she loved them. She was their mother, and they loved her back. Her arms … it was her arms that held them. Can’t you understand? All the memories, including the good ones, the best ones, the ones that keep me going, are hers. I can’t be without Esther, or I’ll be without them. I can’t hate her. If I cut her out, I’ll lose what’s left of them.’
She looked at Marnie, but didn’t ask again whether Marnie understood.
Instead she said, ‘I’m in two minds … How many times have you heard that expression? Connie uses it all the time. I’m in two minds … I’m to blame. Alison. Let Esther keep them safe. The memories. How soft their faces went when they slept. How sweet they smelt. Esther heard their secrets. It was her who put plasters on their skinned knees and kissed them better. She was a good mother.’ Her voice hardened for the first time. ‘She was a good mother.’
Until she wasn’t. Until she got sick and couldn’t look after anyone, including herself.
‘We need to know where Matt might have taken the children. He’s with a victim care officer who may be a hostage. We need to know what’s going through Matt’s mind. We think you understand him better than anyone else.’
‘I wanted to see him,’ Alison said.
‘Why?’
‘He’s my mirror.’ She withdrew her stare, looking down at the old damage on her hands. ‘I don’t expect you to understand that. Connie … won’t look at me, not properly. She calls me Alison. But Matt knows. Matt knows Esther.’
‘You wanted to see him, but you came here instead. Is that right? You didn’t go to Blackthorn Road, or try to contact Matt in any way?’
‘No. I came here instead. Connie persuaded me. She said it was too cruel to Matt. I know she’s right. I do know that.’ She knotted her fingers, her voice faltering for the first time. ‘How were they when you found them? You saw them. Fred and Archie …’
Marnie said, ‘They were together. They seemed … quiet. As if they were sleeping.’
Alison’s face twisted to accommodate this version of the truth. It’d sounded brutal when Fran first said it, and it was brutal now. How must it sound to the woman responsible for it?
‘What was it like,’ Noah said, ‘in the bunker? When you first took them down there … Did they think it was a game, or were they scared?’
It was a cruel question, but they needed Alison to focus on Carmen and Tommy. Perhaps if they could get her to remember Fred and Archie, she’d snap out of this self-punishing apathy and start to help.
‘To begin with, we were happy. Then … I don’t remember.’ Her voice was cracked from side to side. ‘I don’t.’ She lifted her fist of fingers and knocked at the side of her skull, raising a hollow sound. ‘Too many pills … Esther remembered some things, little things. How good they were about getting into their pyjamas, brushing their teeth … Archie taking care of Fred, being such a good boy, taking charge when she had to go away.’
‘Why did she have to go?’
‘Louisa.’ Her voice shrank to nothing. ‘For Louisa.’
‘You … She couldn’t tell the police, about the boys?’
‘She didn’t. I don’t know why. She was scared. She was insane,’ shaking herself, ‘she was cruel and hateful. How many excuses do you need? Lyn has a hundred. More.’ She made her hands into claws. ‘She took everything the pills didn’t get, wrote it all down. You’d think I’d be grateful for that – the pills, the not remembering. But I’d rather have pain, and truth. I hate not being able to tell you the truth. I want to know what their last days were like. I want to know whether they knew how loved they were, how huge they were, in my heart.’ She stopped, emptying her hands, sitting under the dull stew of light, looking lost again.
‘They were together,’ Marnie said. ‘Archie was holding Fred, taking care of him. They were together.’
Alison t
urned her face away, as if the image Marnie had given her couldn’t compete with the pictures in her head. Or as if it made the pictures worse.
At Marnie’s side, Noah was silent, watching the woman.
Marnie said, ‘Tell us about Matt.’
‘I can’t tell you anything, not really. I don’t remember the worst of what I did, just … Sometimes I remember his face, seeing me. The horror on it. Fear. He was afraid of me. Desperately afraid. He was the only one who saw what I was capable of. Not the police, not Connie, not Lyn. Only Matt. He saw how … inhuman I was. Beyond help. Beyond anything.’
Desperately afraid.
This was the man who’d taken his two small children into hiding. The man Ed Belloc had been trying to help.
‘He didn’t visit you? Connie said she did, after the medication started to help.’
‘She never saw me the way Matt did. She never saw Esther. Matt stayed away because he knew there was no help. No getting better. He knew what I was.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Marnie said. ‘I’ve met Matt. He believes in second chances. He rebuilt a life for himself, and I think he would want the same for you.’
‘If you were right, he wouldn’t have taken his children into hiding. You wouldn’t be afraid. I can see you’re afraid, of what he might do and where he might have taken them.’
‘Where might he have taken them?’
Alison shook her head. Then she said, ‘You had another photograph, of a boy …’
‘Clancy Brand.’ Marnie took the photo from the folder and handed it over.
Alison studied it. ‘He looks like Matt.’
‘What?’
‘When I first knew him, when he was seventeen, Matt looked like this. A little.’
Alison stroked the photograph with her thumb. ‘It’s the eyes … Trying to look tough, but he’s not. He wasn’t ever tough, just a bit careless. And happy. Perhaps if he had been tough, he’d have been able to stop me. No, not stop. No one could do that. He could’ve let me die, though. He could’ve done that. But he wouldn’t give up. Not on anything. Poor Matt.’
