A Dark and Sinful Death

by Alison Joseph

  ‘You are good at it,’ Agnes said, quietly. ‘You were wonderful with Charlotte.’

  He shook his head. ‘How can I be good at it? My life ended then. You can’t be open to God’s love if you’re just marking time.’

  ‘You can’t be open to God’s love if you haven’t suffered.’ He looked up at her, and his eyes reflected back to her the flickering of the flames. After a while he said, ‘You’d better have your coat back.’

  ‘No, I insist. Not until you pay for the dry cleaning.’ He smiled.

  *

  They left the hut and set off back across the moor. The sky was beginning to turn pale, and the ground underfoot was fresh and green in the light of the new day.

  ‘Were you really going to stay at the stables?’

  Elias shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight. I just knew I couldn’t go back to the school. Couldn’t go anywhere.’

  ‘And now?’

  He shook his head. They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps marking a quiet rhythm. He stopped suddenly and turned to her, and she saw he was laughing. ‘It’s Easter Sunday,’ he said.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Do you think Philomena can manage without me?’ Agnes smiled. She looked at the view beneath them, at Baines’s house just visible beyond the fields, at the estate beyond. There was an odd glow in the sky.

  ‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘The estate’s burning.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She found she was running through the streets towards the smoke which seemed to billow from behind the houses. She could hear sirens.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Elias called, breathlessly, behind her.

  ‘It’s Billy Keenan,’ Agnes said, between puffs of breath. ‘And Turnbull’s in there, I’m sure.’ Then there were police cars, and someone said, ‘I’m afraid you can’t go in there, Madam.’

  There was a cordon of police tape. Beyond it Agnes could see columns of smoke, could hear the crackling of timber, the shouting of voices. She looked around for Janet Cole.

  ‘I need to see someone, I know someone’s in there — ’

  ‘It’s all under control, Madam. No one’s been hurt. Now it’s best if you go home.’

  ‘But — ’

  ‘Really, Madam, I can’t allow you past.’

  ‘Come on.’ Elias took hold of her arm.

  ‘But you don’t understand, Turnbull’s hiding there, and there was Reg, you see, and Nina, and Billy knows — and there was the book, about the falcons ... ’

  Elias was leading her away. ‘You can’t go in there, Agnes.’

  ‘But — ’

  ‘I haven’t eaten for about three days, and we’re expected at chapel in an hour.’

  *

  Agnes fidgeted in her place, trying to concentrate on the Easter readings. She watched Elias placing the wafers and the chalice ready on the altar, and tried to settle her mind, to become receptive to the redemptive presence of the Lord.

  ‘Thus says the Lord,’ she heard Elias read from Isaiah. She tried to block out the images of burning timber, of Billy and Turnbull at the heart of the flames like demons, of birds of prey hovering above.

  ‘I will make a way even through the wilderness,’ she heard Elias say. ‘I will provide water in the wilderness, and rivers in the barren desert ... ’

  Sunlight poured through the East window, drenching the altar with colour. ‘With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day, Give thanks to the Lord, call upon His name ... ’

  Agnes looked up, and met Elias’s gaze. The light from the window behind him streaked his hair with gold. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, until Teresa threw her an odd look and she bowed her head in prayer instead.

  *

  Later, she lay on her bed, fighting sleep. She’d tried to talk to Janet Cole, who was out of the office, and no one else felt able to tell her what was happening on the estate. She’d phoned Baines, to talk to Patricia, but there was no answer there. She thought of going back to Billy Keenan’s house, but there was no point bothering Maureen just because her son was an arsonist. And then there was Kitty Hanson. And her mother. And Billy springing to her defence last December, when she was newly bereaved. The phone rang.

  ‘Sweetie, I’m missing you.’

  ‘Athena — ’

  ‘You sound tired.’

  ‘I haven’t slept for days.’

  ‘No, neither have I.’ She giggled. ‘We’ve been in Paris, me and Nic, and Simon came too in the end, we went on the train, only just got back. Sweetie, it’s fantastic, the train, you should try it, door to door in three hours, incredible, chugs along all the way to the South Coast, but once you’re in France, amazing ... we only had three days there but it felt like ages ... ’

  ‘How nice.’

  ‘You do sound tired. Shall I phone another time?’

  ‘Things are rather complicated here.’

  ‘Have you decided about your lovely man?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Sweetie, if I were you — ’

  ‘Yes. I know. If you were me.’

  ‘I’ll phone tomorrow. Love and kisses.’

  Agnes hung up. Something was not quite right. Something about going to Paris on the train.

  Agnes snatched up her phone and dialled Athena.

  ‘It’s me. Listen — you were away on Saturday?’

  ‘Yes, I said.’

  ‘Simon too?’

  ‘Yes. He and Nic get on so well. It’s really annoying.’

  ‘So Simon didn’t phone David?’

  ‘David?’

  ‘David Snaith, the artist?’

  ‘No, of course not, he’s been away from the office. Why? Agnes? Agnes, are you there?’

  Agnes stood, holding the phone. She thought of the library books in Kitty’s front room.

  ‘Athena — I’ll talk to you later. ’Bye.’

  She dialled David’s number. It was switched off. She phoned the hospital and eventually spoke to Jo, who said he’d gone home to get clean clothes and things. ‘Shall I say you called?’ Jo asked.

  ‘Yes, can you say ... ’ Agnes hesitated, reluctant to worry her. ‘Can you ask him to phone me as soon as he can. And — if anyone asks to see him about his art — can you make sure he speaks to me first? Thanks.’

  She hung up, and paced her room. Then she picked up her coat and went out.

  She parked her car at the edge of the estate, and got out. An acrid smell hung in the air, and she could see a couple of police cars on the street corner. She set off up the main street. The community centre was a burnt-out shell, with large beams of charred timber hanging between twisted metal. As she passed it a group of children ran giggling from behind it, a dog at their heels. She turned off past Reg’s old house, to Lianna’s.

  She hammered on the door. Eventually there was the sound of bolts being drawn, and a voice said, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Sister Agnes.’

  ‘Oh. You.’

  ‘Can I come in?’

  The door opened a crack. ‘S’pose so.’

  Agnes went into the front room. The curtains were slightly drawn, and the place seemed cleaner and tidier. ‘I expect the police have been bothering you, looking for Turnbull.’

  ‘They’re always bothering me, makes no difference who they’re bleedin’ lookin’ for.’

  ‘Silly, isn’t it. Even if you were hiding him — ’

  ‘Which I’m not.’

  ‘No, of course not. But even if you were — they’d only have to search the rooms to find him.’

  ‘They did. Didn’t find no one.’

  ‘But he’s wanted for terrible things, Lianna.’

  ‘Don’t make no difference to me.’

  ‘Two murders and two attempted murders. Reg, Mark, Nina and Jo. Even though I know as well as you do that he didn’t kill anyone.’

  Lianna flopped into a chair and lit a cigarette. The ashtray at her e
lbow was spotless. ‘He did over his sister-in-law.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s in a terrible state about it. Cryin’ and that. Says he loves her.’ She drew hard on the cigarette. ‘Do you think he does? Love her?’

  ‘Perhaps he does.’

  ‘Is she pretty?’

  ‘I don’t know. I suppose so, yes.’

  ‘Does she love him?’

  ‘Anthony? No, she has someone else. She’s devoted to him.’ Agnes heard a slight noise in the kitchen.

  ‘Is she serious about this bloke?’

  ‘Yes. He’s at her bedside all the time.’ Agnes raised her voice slightly. ‘He’s saved her life. She loves him very much.’ Lianna’s features softened, and her face lightened with her childlike smile. ‘Will they get married?’

  ‘Oh, I think so, yes.’ Agnes saw the doorhandle move a fraction.

  ‘That’s not what he says, Anthony. He says they’re made for each other. He sits where you are and goes on about her, it in’t right, is it?’

  ‘I think perhaps Anthony’s life has gone rather awry.’

  ‘I don’t know why I put up wi’ it. Maybe because he’s got no one else.’

  ‘He can’t stay here for ever.’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling him. But he goes on about this Jo, as if she’s going to make everything all right for him. Do you think she will?’

  ‘No,’ Agnes said, as loudly as she could without sounding unnatural. ‘I think Jo is perfectly happy without him.’ As she spoke the kitchen door flew open and Anthony stood there. He seemed thinner. His suit was filthy, and buttoned unevenly. His eyes burned out from the pallor of his face.

  ‘What the hell do you know about it?’

  Lianna flinched, and swung round to face him. ‘I didn’t tell her, honest!’

  ‘How dare you come in here and tell me what Joanna thinks?’ He didn’t take his eyes from Agnes, and she saw how he smouldered with hatred and rage.

  ‘You attacked her — ’ Agnes tried.

  ‘I was — it was all so — I was trying to protect her ... ’ He ran his hand across his face, and for a moment the rage left him. ‘She needs me,’ he said.

  ‘She needs David,’ Agnes said, as calmly as she could.

  He shook his head. The gesture was exaggerated. ‘You know nothing about it,’ he said.

  ‘Do you remember when we had lunch?’ Agnes tried again. He frowned and shook his head, and she realised he wasn’t pretending. ‘You took me to a lovely restaurant.’ She saw the bewilderment in his eyes. He sat down heavily on a chair. ‘We talked about forgiveness,’ she went on. A flicker of recognition passed across his face. ‘Then you got a phone call, and you became distressed. And that night, Nina Warburton was attacked, in an incompetent and cowardly manner. Surely you remember that bit?’

  ‘If you’ve come here to accuse me, you can leave now.’ She saw the anger returning, saw him hang on to it, clinging to it as the only reality he knew.

  ‘It was desperate, wasn’t it, Anthony — that just because Mark had been killed, you thought you’d follow suit. And Billy Keenan’s friends were willing — ’

  ‘I didn’t mean — ’ she heard him murmur. ‘When I talked to those lads, I didn’t mean that they should ... ’ He rubbed his forehead, blinking.

  ‘And David — were you going to do the same to him?’

  ‘I — I don’t know ... I wasn’t thinking straight. I spoke to that lad, we talked about money, I remember that, I just thought, if only they were all out of the way, these obstacles, if only the mill just wasn’t there any more. I wanted it to be over, you see, I just wanted it all to end ... ’

  ‘And so you asked that lad to attack Nina?’

  Anthony stared at her, then nodded. ‘Yes. I must have done.’ He bit his lip. ‘That rope, the knots, he showed me. I must have asked him to ... and then I came to the mill and saw her there, in the night, so frightened ... terrible. But it was William, you see, it’s his fault, I went to see him, I tried to explain, it was the missing document, you know, I knew he’d got it, I searched high and low for it, and when I challenged him he said everything rested with Jo. He said he was counting on her. So I had to get it from her. I found her on the moors, I tried to explain, that night, on the moor, that it was her future, my future ... ’

  ‘He didn’t mean that Jo had the document. He meant — he was speaking about his own state of mind ... ’ Agnes saw the anguish behind Turnbull’s eyes, and imagined him confronting William, both men half-crazed, despairing, one lost in grief, the other facing bankruptcy; neither able to understand the other. ‘Anthony,’ she tried, gently, ‘if you turn yourself in, you’ll only be charged with assault — ’

  ‘No, GBH, at least,’ Lianna piped up, helpfully. ‘And conspiracy to murder, even if old Doddsy did bottle out at the last moment, he could still give evidence against you.’

  Agnes sighed. Turnbull was slumped in his chair. He looked confused. ‘You see,’ Agnes said, ‘as things stand they’re likely to charge you with two other murders, Mark’s and Reg’s.’

  ‘But I didn’t — ’ he sat up, agitated. ‘I didn’t mean any harm. The truth is, Agnes ... ’ his hands were working in his lap. ‘The truth is, I can’t quite see where I am in all this. Somewhere it all went wrong.’ He sighed, and smiled, an uneven, distant smile. ‘I remember now, that lunch. Forgiveness.’ He nodded. ‘Forgiveness, I remember. But things had gone wrong for me. The mill, you see, was the answer to it all, I thought. But the sums didn’t add up. And I was borrowing more and more, and the mill ... I used to have these dreams, about drowning, a dead weight around my neck, used to wake up shouting ... ’ he laughed, an odd, dry laugh. ‘Millstone, they say, don’t they? Millstone round your neck ... ’ He raised his eyes to meet hers, but he seemed to be looking beyond her. ‘And then I planned to sell it, it seemed the only way, and I realised the old trust would prevent me, and then Mark was found dead. And — and then it began to make sense. It was as if it was all falling into place, somehow, and I felt that if I just took things a bit further myself ... ’ His voice tailed off, and he stared into the distance.

  ‘And Jo?’

  ‘I knew she’d understand.’

  ‘Does she know any of this?’

  ‘I tried to tell her on the moor that night, I knew she’d gone after her father, I caught up with her. We were lovers, you know.’

  ‘Once. A long time ago.’

  ‘But it lived on.’

  ‘For you, perhaps.’

  He looked at her then, and his eyes flashed with anger. ‘For her too. On the moor, I knew she’d listen then, I told her we should be together, I told her I’d sell the mill, the site could be worth millions, we could go away, leave it all behind, I told her all this, I knew she’d understand once I explained, she knows we have to be together ... ’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  Turnbull pulled at the buttons on his jacket. He glanced at Lianna, and then stared at the floor. ‘She didn’t give me time to explain.’

  ‘Anthony, I know what she said. She said she doesn’t want you to sell the mill.’

  ‘She’s all I had left. I tried to tell her ... ’

  ‘And that’s why you went for her?’

  ‘I can’t — she didn’t — ’

  ‘And she said she didn’t love you.’

  ‘No — ’

  ‘Didn’t she?’

  Turnbull met her eyes with a gaze that was now clear and focused. ‘I don’t think you know what you’re talking about,’ he said. His voice was level.

  Agnes felt Lianna shrink away from him. She took a deep breath and said again, ‘Anthony, she doesn’t love you. You have no future with her.’

  Turnbull stood up, his eyes still fixed on her. She doesn’t love you. She loves David.’ Agnes wondered whether he was armed. Turnbull took a step towards her. Agnes saw Lianna flash a nervous glance at her.

  ‘No,’ Anthony said, his voice like steel.

  Agnes
took a deep breath and said, ‘Joanna loves David,’ and at the same moment she flung herself sideways as Turnbull’s fist crashed into the back of the chair where she’d been sitting. Agnes sprang to her feet, aware of Lianna shouting, of a strange roaring noise which she saw came from Anthony who was pummelling the back of the chair, crying, ‘No, no ... ’

  Lianna went up to him and calmly slapped his face. He stopped, straightened up, his hand to his cheek, his eyes staring in astonishment. Suddenly he began to cry, and Lianna wrapped her arms around him, and he laid his head on her shoulder.

  ‘There, there,’ she murmured, at the same time nudging her mobile phone towards Agnes with her foot. Agnes slipped out into the hall and called the police.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ Lianna was saying, when Agnes reappeared. ‘You need time to think, Anthony. And when you come back, I’ll be here.’

  Lights flashed blue outside the window, and Agnes ran to open the door for the police, glad to see that Janet Cole was amongst them. Turnbull stood up and allowed himself to be handcuffed and led away to the waiting car. ‘Treat him gently,’ Agnes said to Janet.

  Turnbull turned to her. ‘My wife, you see ... ’ his eyes welled with tears. ‘My wife ... I’ve rather let her down ... Tell her I’m sorry.’

  Agnes stood with Lianna in the doorway and watched him being driven away. Beyond the car, Agnes could see the burnt-out shell of a row of houses, a sign saying ‘Dangerous Structure, Do Not Enter’. A thin column of smoke still rose in the distance.

  ‘I’ll miss him,’ Lianna said. ‘Bit of a nutcase, but at least he was company.’

  Agnes turned to her. ‘What will you do?’

  Lianna shrugged. ‘Just carry on, I suppose.’

  ‘Isn’t there somewhere you could go?’

  ‘Where? Where am I going to go? I could run away from here, wherever I end up would be just the same. Or worse.’ She tossed her blonde hair and Agnes was reminded of Leonora.

  ‘Don’t you have family?’

  ‘Me?’ Lianna snorted. ‘Maybe once. Not now.’