Last Light: An absolutely gripping thriller with unputdownable suspense

by Helen Phifer

  She went into the kitchen, where Tony was chattering to Bella. He opened a packet of chocolate biscuits and passed them to Bella. She was staring at him, terrified to say no. Sneaking a glance at Natalia. She smiled at her daughter, nodding to her. Encouraging her to take them so she didn’t make him madder than he already was. The whole time she was looking for something to protect them with or an escape route. But he sensed her not paying attention and turned to show her the huge butcher’s knife he had tucked down the back of his jeans. The handle sticking out enough for him to grab hold of. She hated that knife. He’d brought it home from the restaurant a few weeks ago, and she’d begged him to take it back. She’d only used it once and almost severed her index finger. She didn’t like it in the house and now she knew why.

  She limped across and pulled a chair next to her daughter who had bent her head to watch the cartoons on his iPad that he’d given to her with a pair of headphones over her ears. Sitting down, she put her arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Natalia knew that she would die to protect Bella; as long as she didn’t get hurt it didn’t matter what happened to her. Her daughter was her whole life; she just hoped that wherever the Tony she knew was, the doting dad and wonderful husband remembered how much he loved his daughter as well.

  The house phone began to ring, and he strolled off to answer it. She stared at the back door. The key was missing: he’d locked it and hidden it. A feeling of complete and utter despair began to take over her and she had to stifle a sob. She could take another knife, rush him and try to kill him first. But could she risk that in front of her daughter? She didn’t want her to grow up an orphan with nothing but the memory of her parents stabbing each other to death in front of her. Her phone was in her pocket; she thought about dialling Lucy’s number and leaving the line open so she could hear everything and know when to raid the house. But before she could take it out, he was back again, pacing up and down the kitchen demanding to speak to that interfering bitch of a copper. He ended the call and stared at her.

  ‘If you hadn’t found that box, we wouldn’t be here now. This is all your fault, by the way, you should have left it well alone. At the end of today, no matter what happens, you will have to live the rest of your life knowing that you could have prevented this, Nat. You’ve always been too damn nosy for your own good. If you hadn’t gone to that fucking church and met that vicar, I wouldn’t have known any better. I’d forgot all about him, that whore and the teacher. When they let me out of the nuthouse with enough medication to drug a horse I did as I was told. I was a good boy: I took my meds, I kept out of trouble, I went to college, I changed my name. I was a different person when you met me. I was happy, content; I loved you and Bella so much. Now that’s all gone: only you could decide to help out a church that was run by the local sleazeball; only you could take pity on the whore he used to fuck in the vestry, and only you would make friends with the bitch of a teacher who caused my breakdown when I was at school. Do you know how long I was in that hospital for?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t because I never told you any of this. I didn’t want you to think I was fucking crazy. I had you fooled, didn’t I? Four years I was in there. When they let me out I’d forgot that I was going to kill them. The drugs did that, they took away the anger and the hatred. It was as if God decided he’d had enough of those sinners and lined them all up to be in the same place at the same time for me to realise that I had to make good on the promise I made when I was fifteen. It was as if they’d been reunited for the sole purpose of dying. I tried to ignore it. I really did. I tried not to listen to the voices. I worked longer hours, I upped the tablets, I even spoke to my psychiatrist. Did you suspect I went to see one of those? No, of course you didn’t, why would you? I was Mr fucking perfect to you. How did you repay me? You spent more time with them than you did me. You betrayed me, Nat, and now look what a mess we’re in. They’re all dead because of you.’

  She tried to stifle the sobs threatening to erupt, so her daughter wouldn’t hear, but they exploded from her chest, and she clung on to Bella trying to block out his hateful accusations.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Lucy dialled the number and listened to it ringing. She hadn’t planned what she would do if he answered. She could sense a lot of movement behind her and knew something was going on, though she didn’t know what.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Tony, it’s Lucy. You asked to speak to me?’

  There was a long pause and she thought he was going to hang up. ‘Tell that prick if he tries to speak to me again they’re both dead.’

  Lucy turned and relayed the information to Wilson, who nodded, then turned back to whisper to Brocky and the armed officers behind her. She couldn’t concentrate with the hushed voices behind her and walked into the front garden.

  ‘Don’t come any closer.’

  ‘Sorry, I need to get away from them. I can’t concentrate. What can I do to help you, Tony? What do you need?’

  ‘I don’t need anything; there’s nothing you can do to help me. It’s too late for that.’

  ‘If I can’t help you, let me help Bella and Natalia. You don’t want to hurt them, do you? You love them and they love you very much.’

  The line went silent. ‘Of course I love my daughter, and I loved Nat, but she betrayed me. She chose the church over me.’

  Lucy was frantically trying to process what he’d just said and make sense of it.

  ‘She was trying to help, that’s all, she didn’t know about any of this. She’s innocent, they both are. Please let them come outside to me. I’ll take care of them, I promise. Then I can help you.’

  She was holding her breath, waiting for his reply.

  ‘If I let them out, will you come in for me?’

  ‘Yes, I promise. I will, on my own. Just you and me.’

  Lucy sensed a rush of movement behind her and turned to see the armed officers running through the gate towards her with the door entry team. She dropped the phone, running after them, screaming.

  ‘Get back he’s sending them out, get back now. He’s going to let me go in.’

  Her shouts fell on deaf ears as they began to hammer at the front door repeatedly with the red metal battering ram. The noise was deafening, and she turned to Wilson.

  ‘What have you done? He said he was letting them come out?’

  The door finally went through, and the armed officers ran inside shouting.

  Lucy ran after them.

  She knew by the silence that it was bad.

  She pushed through them and stepped inside the living room. As she took in the carnage, her legs buckled and she fell to her knees. Lying on the floor were the bodies of Natalia and Bella. She crawled towards them to see if there was anything she could do, screaming: ‘Get the paramedics now.’

  She reached Bella, pressing her finger against the side of her neck. There was no pulse; she couldn’t do a damn thing to save the beautiful girl lying in front of her. Unable to stand, she crawled the short distance to Natalia, whose eyes were glassy. She did the same, again there was no pulse.

  A groan from behind the sofa caught her attention. The officers who had been staring open-mouthed turned their guns in that direction. Lucy pulled herself up, walking over to see Tony lying there, blood covering his stomach, the handle of a large knife protruding from it. His eyes closed, he groaned again.

  She ran at him screaming and kicked him as hard as she could.

  It was Browning that pulled her away from him. He dragged her outside, and she fought him every step of the way until she saw Wilson standing there with his hands on his hips. Shouting down the radio demanding to know what the state of play was.

  She pulled herself free from Browning and ran towards him.

  ‘You fucking bastard, you killed them.’

  When she was standing in front of him she drew back her fist and hit him straight on the nose. The loud crunch as the cartilage fractured and the b
lood began to spray out of it made her feel a little bit better. Browning, who had caught up with her once more, dragged her away; two patrol officers came running to help separate them all.

  ‘He was going to let them out, how could you? Why didn’t you wait? They’re dead and they shouldn’t be. You’re going to pay for this. You killed them.’

  Lucy could no longer hold herself up as she felt her knees give way again; she let the officers carry her to the van, where they helped her up into the cage. She didn’t fight with them, it wasn’t their fight. They were only doing their job, and she had no fight left inside her. As the cage doors slammed shut and the light was blocked out, she welcomed the darkness as she slumped down burying her head in her hands and began to sob.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  It was Col who drove Lucy home. She’d been in the station for hours and had had to give a statement. Then be interviewed by the Chief Super who had told her that, luckily for her, Wilson wasn’t pressing charges, but that she was being signed off with work-related stress and would be on a managed return to work after various psychological assessments. She could hear his voice now:

  Lucy, I’m trying to understand how you feel, but why did you have to punch him?

  A woman and child are dead because of him. I had almost talked Tony around, he was agreeing to let them come out if I went in for him. Ask Wilson why he didn’t listen to me when I told him to stop them from going in. He had no intention of letting me go in there and defuse the situation; the man is an idiot and as far as I’m concerned he might as well have been the one brandishing the knife, because he killed them both in cold blood.

  Col stopped at her house, and she breathed a sigh of relief that it was all in darkness. She couldn’t face Ellie. How was she going to tell her? It would break her heart – nobody should have to hear that kind of news.

  ‘Are you going to be okay, boss? Do you want me to come in? Make you a coffee, something to eat?’

  ‘No, thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again after today to be honest, Col.’

  ‘I bet you won’t. I’m sorry about that. I’m not sorry you punched Wilson though, Browning said you were like a woman possessed and he’d bet on you any day of the week to win a fight with the best of them.’

  This made her smile. ‘Will you keep me updated as and when you can on Costella’s condition. I hope to God the surgeon slips and severs an artery so the bastard bleeds to death. He doesn’t deserve to live, let alone survive his injuries.’

  ‘If I hear anything, I’ll let you know, of course I will. What are you going to do with your time off?’

  ‘Something I’ve been putting off for a long time. Pack this house up and hurry up the sale of one that I can call my own. I want one with a small back garden, big enough to put some raised vegetable beds in. Not like this monstrosity: the gardens go on for ever and George would never let me dig them over. I’ll keep myself busy until they decide I’m sane enough to go back to work. Thanks for all your help, Col, I really appreciate it.’

  She got out of the car and waited for him to drive away, then she turned and went inside her house where she threw herself on the sofa and let the tears fall until there were no more and she fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Three Weeks Later

  The winter sun was so bright and refreshingly warm, Lucy was glad she had her sunglasses with her. It was standing room only at the crematorium and she’d been relieved that she hadn’t had to go inside. It had been heart-breaking watching the hearses pull up with the two white coffins inside that were adorned with beautiful floral tributes. Ellie had refused to come; she hadn’t spoken to Lucy since she’d broken the news to her. She didn’t blame her really, at the end of the day she’d been heavily involved in the case and still not managed to save them both. Browning had picked her up and driven her here. He had his best suit on and was doing his best not to stand out or pay too much attention to what was going on. She knew he was upset, though he didn’t want to show it. Lucy cried silent tears. She hadn’t stopped crying since that night when Col had taken her home. Tomorrow she had her first counselling session, and she had no idea what good it was going to do. She’d never been one to share her emotions and feelings with anyone except for George.

  The music filtered out through the open doors, and she bowed her head. Life was far too short and hers would never be the same again. The coffins were put back into the hearses to be driven to the graves for burial, and the mourners filed out of the crematorium.

  She turned to Browning.

  ‘You can go now, I’ll hang around for a while. Watch the burial and then walk home. I need to clear my head. Thank you for coming.’

  He was tugging at the collar of his shirt. ‘I don’t mind waiting for you.’

  ‘Honestly, you go. I’m okay, I have nothing else to do. I need to stay for a while.’

  A look of relief crossed his face, and he nodded at her, turning to walk back to his car.

  Lucy let the hearses and mourners go then she followed behind them at a slow pace. It was pretty where the graves had been dug in a quiet corner at the top of the hill. The view over the bay was beautiful and from here the sea looked as blue as the sky above. Keeping her distance, she found a bench to sit on until it was over.

  When the last mourners had gone, and the grave diggers had filled in the grave in which they’d both been buried, together, she finally stood up. Walking over to the grave, she lay the spray of pink roses and white baby’s breath on top of the mound of soil and whispered, ‘I’m sorry, I’ll never forget you both.’

  Wiping a tear with her sleeve, she turned away and saw Mattie’s familiar truck waiting for her at the end of the narrow footpath.

  * * *

  She opened the door, and her breath caught in the back of her throat at the look of concern etched across his face.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Browning phoned, said you were hanging around in the cemetery. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but I’d swear you’ve almost turned him soft in his old age.’

  A smile spread across her face. ‘He’s actually been okay.’

  ‘Get in, Lucy, I’ll take you home or wherever you want to go.’

  She paused, turning around to give one last look at the fresh graves. Then she climbed inside.

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a present for you on the back seat.’

  She turned around to see a cat carrier with Bella’s cat sitting inside staring at her.

  ‘Where did you get her from?’

  ‘Told you Browning was going soft; the neighbour has been looking after it. She rang him and said she didn’t want it permanently and was going to take it to the cat shelter. He went straight round and collected it. He said you would know what to do with her.’

  She laughed. Reaching back she grabbed hold of the carrier and lifted it over. ‘Not so much me, but I know Ellie will love her to bits.’

  ‘So, where to, Lucy. Pub or home?’

  ‘I’ll go to the supermarket to buy some cat food then can we take Bluebell to George’s house for Ellie.’

  ‘You can take her wherever you want.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  After explaining to George about the cat, he took it from her despite Rosie’s protests in the background about her allergies. Lucy walked back to Mattie’s car with a smile on her face. Hopefully Ellie would be thrilled, and it would help her with her grieving.

  Mattie dropped her off at home, where she waved him off with the assurance that she’d be fine. Needing to be on her own, she looked around the house she’d thought would be her for ever home. Everything except the essentials had been packed in brown cardboard boxes. There was nothing like wallowing in self-pity, anger and grief to make you kick arse. George had collected his stuff yesterday; the stuff she didn’t want she donated to the furniture warehouse for St Mary’s Hospice, asking them to drop the bags of clothes and handbags off at the cha
rity shop. This was stuff from her old life – she didn’t need it now. It was time to start fresh; all she had left after ten years of marriage were five cardboard boxes, and two of those were filled with her favourite books. Her offer had been accepted on the house, with a small back garden, which was half the size of the one she lived in now. It didn’t matter how big it was really, as long as it was hers she’d be happy.

  Mattie had helped her with the packing. When he’d come back from his holiday and found out what had happened he’d come straight around. She’d cried in front of him for the first time ever and he’d held her, and it had felt good. What she needed. She’d wondered whether it would have made a difference if he’d been here – would it have all gone as spectacularly wrong as it had? She decided that, yes, it probably would. Despite the deep-seated feelings of guilt, she had no idea about Tony Costella or his mental illness: the blame lay with him not her. She hadn’t wielded the knife that had so cruelly killed his family. There was one thing Lucy did know, however: she would never let anything like this happen again. It was time to move on, make a fresh start. She owed it to Natalia and Bella whose lives had been cut short before they’d even begun. Life was for living and as soon as she was up to it she would begin to start living again.

  If you were absolutely gripped by Lucy’s first case, then make sure you’ve read the next book in the series, Dark House, for more nail-biting thrills that will keep you up all night.