‘Sit down,’ Rose said.
‘I’m dying for a shower or a bath. Looking forward to it all evening, and—’
‘Sit down. We need to talk.’
What was going on? This wasn’t good. Lottie dragged out a chair and sat opposite the woman she had called mother for over forty years, but who she had recently discovered was not in fact her biological mother.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I had a visitor today,’ Rose said.
‘That’s nice,’ Lottie said hopefully, knowing instinctively that it had been anything but nice. ‘Anyone I know?’
‘You tell me.’
‘What? Who was it?’
‘An American man. A policeman, no less.’
Lottie held her breath. She knew what was coming.
Rose said, ‘Does the name Leo Belfield mean anything to you?’
‘I’ve heard of him,’ Lottie said, and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. First he’d been to see McMahon, and now Rose. What was he up to? ‘What did he want?’
Rose shrugged. ‘Stirring up problems in my life. That’s what.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He knows about you, Lottie. About your father and what he did. But he doesn’t know everything. That’s why he was here. Thought I was going to fill in the gaps in his family tree.’
‘And did you?’
‘What do you take me for?’ Rose stood up suddenly and flicked the kettle on. ‘You might think I’m tottering towards my grave, Lottie, but I’m not doolally yet.’
‘I don’t think that. And I’m grateful for all you’re doing for me and the kids. I don’t know what I’d have done the last few months if you hadn’t been there for us.’
‘I’ll always be here for you, Lottie.’ She turned around as the kettle began to hiss. ‘But I’m warning you, that Belfield man is trouble. I could smell it from the pores of his skin as he sat in that same chair you’re sitting in now.’
‘Trouble?’ Lottie wondered what Belfield had said to cause Rose to be so rattled. ‘What did he say to you?’
‘He was raised by Alexis Belfield. She’s the sister of your biological mother, who is also his mother. Which makes him your half-brother.’
‘That’s trouble all right,’ Lottie said. She thought back to the family history she had unearthed while heading up a murder investigation last year. Her biological mother had had four children, including a set of twins. One daughter had died last October, and the other, who was likely Leo’s twin sister, was now incarcerated in a state institution. As a baby, Lottie had been taken in by Peter and Rose Fitzpatrick and raised as their own child. Her birth certificate had been doctored, and Lottie had been unaware of the truth until that awful, violent case had laid her heritage bare.
And now Leo was here. Asking questions. What did he hope to gain? She scratched her head and tried to come up with a logical answer.
‘You’ll have to talk to him,’ Rose said, putting a mug of coffee in front of her. ‘It’s the only way you’ll get rid of him.’
‘Talk to him about what?’
‘You’ll have to tell him about his twin sister.’
‘I’m sure he could find that out on his own. No, he’s after something else,’ Lottie said. ‘And I don’t think it’s a new family.’
Sean lay on his bed, controller in hand, scrolling through Toby’s PlayStation profile. He took out his phone and looked at the photograph he’d snapped of the messages that had been on Toby’s screen. He couldn’t make out what they were about. But he could see that they might be something like a warning. A code?
Should he tell his mother? After all, Mikey had been Toby’s friend, and she was investigating his murder. His thoughts swung to the body of the baby he and Barry had found. The poor little thing, he thought. Born into such a horrible world before his life had been snuffed out mercilessly. Why had Barry insisted they go to that exact spot? Did he know the baby was there? He had been acting funny all that morning, come to think of it. Nervy, Sean concluded. But why?
He sat up straight and scrutinised Toby’s messages again.
No, that couldn’t be it.
He clicked his controller, logged on to the game. Checked Barry’s username. Looked at the messages again. Double shit. If Toby was in trouble, Sean knew he had to help. He also knew that this was something he couldn’t tell his mother.
He pocketed his phone, pulled on a hoodie. Downstairs, he checked that no one was around, and sneaked out the front door. His bike was parked up under the front windowsill. He was delighted with the way Kenny’s Cycles had mended the buckled wheel. It was better than new. Throwing his leg over the crossbar, he cycled out the gate and down the dark road. He glanced up at the full moon and hoped the werewolves were already asleep.
Sixty-Six
Lottie sat on the wall and looked in at the dark windows of what would soon be her new home. There was no sign of Ben doing any painting. Maria had probably warned her husband to stay away.
Holding the key in one hand, and her mobile phone in the other, she debated whether to go in. She’d love a smoke. A few quick drags. She could ring Boyd to come over. They could sit on the wall and smoke like a couple of teenagers. That would be nice. But Boyd wasn’t answering his damn phone. She could go over to his apartment. But no. That was too intrusive. Feck it.
She walked up to the door, turned the key in the lock and stepped into the hallway. She flicked on the light and inhaled the smell of fresh paint.
The front door closed silently behind her and she walked through the house. Every room looked sparkling new. The floors had been sanded and varnished, the walls and ceilings painted. Ben had done a great job. And she didn’t even have to pay for it. Tom Rickard was a blessing in disguise.
She was about to leave when the doorbell rang. The shape of a man was outlined beyond the frosted glass. Someone selling something? Not at this hour. Catching sight of the faint red glow of a cigarette, she opened the door.
‘How did you know I was here, Boyd?’
‘Your mother told me. Are you going to ask me in?’
‘I am.’ She opened the door wider, and he stamped out his cigarette on the doorstep.
His hair was damp and she could smell the citrus freshness of a recent shower coming from his skin. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans. He smiled as he passed her, and she felt her heart float around in her chest and a small tingle take root at the base of her abdomen.
‘What brings you here?’ she asked.
He stood in the hallway, the naked light bulb casting shadows on the grey peppering his hair.
‘You,’ he said. ‘It’s been a tough few days and I thought you could do with some company.’
‘You could’ve answered your damn phone,’ she said with a smile.
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘You are. I can’t offer you tea or coffee; there isn’t even a mug, let alone a kettle here yet.’
She felt his arm snake around her waist as he drew her towards him. She smelled the faint cigarette smoke on his breath. The best part of all was that she had not expected this reaction. None of it.
As his lips covered hers, she dropped her phone, keys and bag to the floor and allowed herself to drown in his presence. Even if it was only for a few seconds, Lottie Parker felt she had flown on the wings of an angel and arrived at the gates to heaven.
When they broke apart, she said, ‘What brought that on?’
‘Don’t know. Perhaps you and your jealousy.’
‘My what?’
‘You thought I had something going with Cynthia Rhodes. Are you daft?’ He leaned in and kissed her again.
‘There’s no bed here, Boyd.’
He laughed. ‘Who said we need a bed?’
‘No one. But there is a couch in the sitting room.’
‘Hold on a minute.’ He turned back to the front door and picked up a bag from the step. ‘I have wine.’
She took the bottle from him. ‘Screw
top. Good.’
‘The very best. Check the label.’
‘Ah, shit, Boyd. This is zero per cent alcohol.’
‘It’s nice, though, and you won’t have a hangover in the morning. Just the way to celebrate my divorce. Now, where’s this couch you mentioned?’
He held out his hand, and she put hers into it and allowed him to lead her into the living room. While she opened the bottle, he strung the sheet from the couch over the window.
‘Can’t have you making a bad impression on your neighbours before you even move in,’ he said.
Lottie settled on the couch and Boyd sat beside her. She looked up at the window, draped in paint-splattered cotton, and felt the happiest she’d been in months.
He sat in his hired car at the end of the road, and watched. He had seen the man arrive, light a cigarette in his car and smoke most of it before he approached the door. Dutch courage?
After the man had entered the house, he drove up behind the car. He could see their outlines behind the glass of the door. Embracing. Interesting, Leo thought. Lottie Parker was indeed a very complex person. Someone he wanted to get to know, now more than ever.
Sixty-Seven
‘Hello, Sean, what has you out so late, and all on your own?’
Jesus, thought Sean, I’m fifteen years old. He said, ‘Dr Duffy, is Barry home?’
‘It’s almost midnight. He’ll be fast asleep. I was just about to head to bed myself.’
Sean noticed that Barry’s father did not look like he was on his way to bed. He was wearing a zipped-up sweater and had a waxed jacket under his arm. Just come home, or ready to go out? He could feel his mother’s detective instincts taking hold in his brain.
‘That’s grand, Dr Duffy.’ He turned back to his bike.
‘Wait up. What did you want him for?’
Paul Duffy was standing right behind him, so close Sean could almost hear his heartbeat. He reached out and grabbed Sean’s hand. His grip was sweaty and tight. Sean went to pull his hand away, but Duffy held on, dragging him towards him. Sean looked into the man’s eyes, and something he saw there caused the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck.
‘You’re right, I’d better get going. Mam will have a search party out for me. Thanks again.’ But still Duffy wouldn’t let go. Sean tried to disentangle his fingers but the grip tightened further and Duffy was right in his face. He stepped back, hit against the bike at his feet. Duffy was still glued to him. What the hell?
‘What do you want with Barry at this late hour?’
‘Nothing. Honestly. I couldn’t sleep. Just thought I’d see if he was up or out or whatever. I’d better go and—’
‘I scared you. I’m sorry, Sean. Come in. Come in. I’ll call Barry down. It must be something important to have you out this late.’
Dr Duffy’s face had softened. Maybe they’d just scared each other, Sean thought as he moved into the hallway. The door shut soundlessly behind him, and he wondered at the complete silence inside the house. So unlike his granny’s, with all of them living there cheek by jowl.
‘This way.’
Duffy’s voice propelled Sean to motion. He walked down the hall and entered the living room, all the while trying to shake off the voice in his head telling him to get the hell out.
Sixty-Eight
The soft lap of the waves against the pebbles and rocks on the shore of the lake keeps me grounded. The ripples of silver twinkling in the moonlight are as calming as any Valium I’ve been ordered to take. I am almost near completion of my tasks. The studio is still secret, and I must keep it that way. There is no other option but to kill.
The evil spirits are all around me, hovering, whispering in my ear, and I know of only one way to still their mutterings.
The final one is awaiting.
I know what I must do.
So sorry, little one.
The end is nigh.
Day Four
Thursday
Sixty-Nine
The first rays of sunshine spilled into the room. Lottie leaned up on one elbow and tilted her head towards the window. The curtain looked so dirty. Her mother was slipping. Shit, that wasn’t a curtain. She turned over and saw him there, asleep on the floor beside her, more painting sheets for covers.
‘Boyd! Wake up. What the hell time is it?’
He groaned and turned over. ‘Good morning, gorgeous.’
She pulled on her clothes and waited impatiently while he dressed. When she dragged the sheet from the window, the glare of the rising sun almost blinded her.
‘It’s only five a.m. and it’s—’
‘It’s a beautiful way to wake up,’ he said, turning her around and kissing her.
She hadn’t time for this. Good God, what had she been thinking?
‘Let’s go. I need to have a shower, and so do you.’
‘Want to test the one upstairs?’
‘Boyd. For Christ’s sake. Come on. We have to go. McMahon told us to be in at six.’
‘And when did you ever do what you were told?’
She smiled and made for the door. ‘Never. But I don’t want my kids putting out an SOS for me.’
* * *
Rose had a pot of tea ready when Lottie came into the kitchen, showered and dressed in fresh jeans and white shirt. She was going to miss being treated like a queen. That thought disappeared when she saw the scowl printed on her mother’s face like a newspaper headline.
‘You should marry him,’ Rose said.
Lottie stilled her hand with the mug halfway to her mouth. ‘What? Who?’
‘The lad with the ears that stick out. Boyd. No point in sneaking around like teenagers. You’re both adults.’
‘Mother, we are not together.’
‘You were last night, weren’t you?’
‘That may be so, but we’re not a couple. We get on and we—’
‘Sleep together from time to time. Yes, I know. But he loves you, you know that? What is it that you’re waiting for?’
Lottie remained silent. She didn’t know what she wanted any more. Now that Boyd had his divorce, something had shifted inside her. Was it because he was finally free of his ex-wife? Or because she had thought he was seeing Cynthia? Was that it? Jealousy? She couldn’t put her finger on it. But for now, she had to go to work and solve three murders. Then and only then would she decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
‘I might be late again. Things are hectic with the murder investigations,’ she said, shoving a slice of toast into her mouth.
‘And what are you going to do about that Leo Belfield?’
She crunched the toast. ‘Leave him to me. If he calls around here, don’t answer the door.’
‘Right so.’ Rose poured a cup of tea for herself. ‘Oh, and tell Sean that in future he’s to let me know in advance when he’s staying over at his friend’s house for the night. I was awake worrying about him until I got his text this morning.’
‘What friend?’ Lottie picked up her bag and went to the kitchen door.
‘Barry Duffy. The lad he went fishing with the other day.’
She opened her mouth, but closed it again. Hadn’t she told Sean to stay away from Barry Duffy? At least she had meant to. Damn.
‘I’ll have a word with him later.’
In the hall, she pulled on her shoes – Katie’s shoes really. Her children were all sound asleep. Little Louis was an angel of a child. Katie was so lucky. She wondered what would happen when Katie went back to college in September. They’d have to get a nanny. More money. Tom Rickard would probably stump up for that too. Good.
A long day beckoned, and Lottie had an uneasy feeling it was going to be horrendously busy. But she and Boyd were back on good terms. That was great. She jumped into her car and turned the key. Nothing. Just a click. Tried again. The same.
‘Ah, shite!’
Boyd waltzed into the office. Kirby lifted his head and nodded, looking like he’d been at his desk all night, his
hair wilder than usual and his nose dripping sweat.
‘You get a bit of the old roll in the hay last night?’ he asked.
‘What’s it to you?’ Boyd began lining up his keyboard with the stack of files on his desk. He couldn’t keep the smile from his lips.
‘Boyd, can I have a quick word?’ Lynch was standing at the door, beckoning him out to the corridor. He followed her.
‘What’s up?’ he said, watching her march up and down, her hand on her bump. ‘All okay with junior in there?’ He leaned back with one foot against the wall, hands in pockets, trying to relax, to hear her out, but keen to get working.
‘I have a problem and I need your help,’ she said.
‘Okay,’ Boyd said warily. Lynch never asked him for anything. She was tight with Kirby. Well, she had been until he started dating Gilly O’Donoghue. She seemed to have lost her confidant when that relationship sprouted up.
‘This is a little delicate.’ She stopped pacing and stood in front of him. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. You see, I caught my Ben in a compromising position with the DI. And I think I need to report her.’
Boyd let his foot drop slowly to the floor. He tightened his hands into fists inside his trouser pockets. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The night before last, I drove round with the kids to her new place. Ben was doing a spot of decorating there. I could see in through the window. The light was on. I know what I saw.’
‘What did you see?’
‘Ben and Lottie Parker, if you want me to spell it out for you. In each other’s arms.’
Tell Nobody: Absolutely gripping crime fiction with unputdownable mystery and suspense Page 26
