Unfinished Business

by Heather Atkinson

  At that point Cass’s mobile phone rang. She was torn. Finally she’d got to meet another Creegan but this call could be important. “May I?” she said, pointing to the lounge, phone in hand.

  “Be my guest,” replied Mark smoothly.

  “You’re sure this is what you want?” Brodie asked Sarah as Cass ducked into the lounge to take her call.

  “Yes, very,” she said, smiling up at her husband. “I’ve missed him so much.”

  The sickly domestic scene made Brodie nauseous. “So you’re back to normal then?”

  “As much as we can be,” replied Sarah. “The kids are away for another week so we’ve got some time to ourselves to make up properly,” she purred, nestling into her husband. Mark smiled, his arms tightening around her.

  “I don’t know who sent you here Brodie but it appears you’ve had a wasted journey,” said Mark. “I hope you’re being paid well.”

  “I am.”

  “You may as well go back to Glasgow because there’s nothing left here for you to do.”

  Brodie wasn’t so sure about that, the situation had turned around too quickly for his liking. “I don’t think I’m ready to go back just yet.”

  “Why not?” sighed Mark.

  “I like it here,” he replied with a smile. This was just too neat for him. He feared Sarah had been charmed by her handsome, charismatic husband and that she’d just made a huge mistake. Besides, there were questions he still had for them both.

  “If you’re worried there’s no need to be,” said Mark.

  Brodie could detect the underlying annoyance in his voice. “But I am worried Mark. You see, my business is…”

  “Unfinished business, yes we know,” he said with a roll of the eyes.

  “And there’s still a lot of stuff unfinished.”

  “Like what?”

  “Who really killed your dad?”

  His jaw tensed. “That’s it, get out. I’m sick of you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

  “This will always overshadow your life. Why don’t you tell the truth and put your wife’s mind at rest that she isn’t living with a murderer?”

  As Mark squared up to him Brodie wondered if he’d been wrong all along. There was no trace of the usual bluster and his gaze was hard and steady. Perhaps he was capable of murder after all?

  “If you don’t fuck off right now I’m calling the police. We can throw a ton of charges at you - stalking, harassment, trespassing...”

  “Alright, take it easy pal.”

  “I am not your pal.”

  Brodie looked round Mark to Sarah. “Has he told you the full story of what happened that day?”

  “He doesn’t need to,” she said, throwing back her head.

  “Wouldn’t you like to hear it for your peace of mind? I think that’s a yes,” he said when she appeared hesitant.

  Mark turned to face her. “Is it true Sarah? Do you need to hear every detail?”

  “I…I think it might help me come to terms with it.”

  “Why didn’t you say? I would have told you if you’d asked,” he said gently.

  “I thought it might upset you.”

  Brodie shuffled on the spot when they gazed lovingly at each other, Mark reaching out to touch her face.

  “Hello?” Brodie said impatiently.

  Mark let his hand drop and huffed out a breath. “Oh, you’re still here,” he said flatly.

  “Listen, I know you don’t want to talk about it but what happened to your dad could be linked to The Carver killings. If not for me or your wife then do it for the women who’ve died and who might still die.”

  Mark looked from Brodie to Sarah and back again. “Oh…damn it, how am I supposed to say no to that?”

  “You’re not. You’re supposed to say okay Brodie, let’s discuss it right now.”

  “You never let go, do you?”

  “No, I’m like a limpet.”

  “I was going to say you’re more like syphilis. Fine, let’s get this over with,” said Mark, ignoring Brodie’s frown. “Maybe then you’ll finally leave us alone.”

  “Maybe,” he replied cheerfully, irritating Mark.

  He led Brodie and Sarah into the living room to find Cass just concluding her call. Brodie could tell in her eyes there was something she wanted to share with him but he shook his head, telling her it must wait.

  “Sit down then,” said Mark impatiently.

  They all took their seats on the huge cream couches, Sarah and Mark facing Cass and Brodie. Sarah took her husband’s hand and angled herself to face him, large blue eyes soft and full of sympathy. Brodie wondered what Mark had done to bring about such a turnaround.

  It took Mark a full minute to build himself up to talk about something that he hadn’t spoken about in years. His body was rigid, eyes hard.

  “It’s okay, in your own time,” said Sarah gently.

  Cass shuffled in her seat and Brodie could sense her agitation. Obviously that phone call had contained important information but he wasn’t going to interrupt this moment for anything.

  Finally Mark spoke. “You’re already aware that my dad was a brutal bully but I don’t think you understand just how vicious he was. We all experienced physical abuse on a daily basis. As me and Seth grew up and he realised that one day soon we would be men, Mum and Lauren started to bear the brunt of his rage. We were big, just like him. As he got older he started to get flabby but he was still strong, frighteningly so. He could move heaps of wood on his own. I once saw him with half a tree trunk over his shoulder like it was nothing.”

  “Wood?” said Brodie.

  “Woodworking was his hobby. He had a big shed in the back garden that we weren’t allowed near. I know what you’re thinking,” he added sharply. “My dad was into woodworking which means he must have been The Camden Carver.”

  “I never said that,” replied Brodie.

  “You didn’t need to. I can see it in your eyes and to be honest, I don’t know if he was. He was certainly violent enough and when he died the killings mysteriously stopped. He hated women, he said Mum ruined his life, dragged him down and that Lauren was useless and should have been drowned at birth. He once told me that if I ever got married I should keep my wife in the bedroom or the kitchen. Never give her an inch, it was all women were good for. His words you understand, not mine.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t listen to him,” said Cass darkly.

  “No he didn’t,” said Sarah, grasping his hands tighter.

  “Of course I didn’t, his views were prehistoric,” continued Mark. “But I always got the feeling that something happened to him as a child. Whenever we asked about our grandparents he’d either clam up or go off on one. I knew my grandparents were still living but I never saw them. He said that as far as he was concerned they were dead.”

  “Have you ever tried finding them?”

  “I’ve no wish to have anything to do with his side of the family, I’m too afraid they’re as rotten as he was. I don’t even know if they’re still alive. I believe when he died the police spoke to them but they never turned up at court for my trial. It seems they didn’t care.”

  “Are you saying they abused your father?” said Cass.

  “It did cross my mind, they do say abusers have usually been abused themselves, not that it’s any excuse.”

  “So, the day he was killed?” prompted Brodie.

  Mark’s black eyes flicked up to meet his. “If you think I’m innocent then you’re wrong. I did it.”

  “Can you describe the events leading up to the murder? Was it a normal day?”

  “You mean did I wake up knowing I was going to kill my father? No, I didn’t. I woke up at seven thirty as usual, showered and dressed, ready for college. Mum was already up making breakfast. Lauren and Seth were still in bed, neither of them have ever been good at getting up early. To be fair, Lauren was going through a bad patch at the time, her mental health was starting to seriously crumble, especiall
y beneath dad’s tyranny. Seth was always a lazy bastard. Dad used to go mad if we slept in but he was leaving Seth alone because he’d started getting aggressive back with him. Funny thing was he respected him more for it.

  I ate breakfast and just as I was going out the door dad got up. I could hear him stomping around upstairs, muttering to himself like he always did. I left the house before he came downstairs. I went to college…”

  “What were you studying?” said Brodie.

  “Art History. Dad hated it, he called me a poof more than once. He said I should do something real, find a trade working with my hands, like him. Apparently that was real men’s work,” he said bitterly. “The day passed normally enough and I returned home at four, as I always did.” He broke off and got to his feet. “I need a drink. Sarah?”

  “Vodka and ice please,” she said, voice faraway.

  Mark poured himself a scotch and Sarah her vodka and returned to the couch with the drinks, not bothering to offer Cass or Brodie anything.

  “Would you like a drink?” Sarah asked when she realised Mark wasn’t about to.

  Brodie shook his head. “No thanks,” he replied, just wanting Mark to get on with it.

  “Mum, Lauren and Seth were there,” continued Mark. “They hadn’t left the house all day. Lauren hadn’t been very well and they’d stayed in to keep an eye on her, I think they were afraid she was going to set the house on fire, she’d already tried it once. Dad was still at work. Everything was quiet and calm. The others were watching TV in the front room while I worked on my college coursework at the kitchen table.” He knocked back his whisky and grimaced before continuing. “Dad came home at about seven o’clock while I was still in the kitchen. He stank of drink. He saw my work spread out on the table and he lost it. He started calling me a poof, a gayboy, the usual disgusting, unimaginative insults. I didn’t say anything, I just listened, getting angrier and angrier.” He heaved in a breath, making his body shudder. “He started hitting me. The more he hit me the madder I got. What happened next is a bit blurred but I remember hearing Lauren crying in the front room and Mum and Seth trying to calm her down. That only got me even madder. She’d been so calm all day and he was spoiling it and, even worse, he didn’t even care. I pushed him away and yelled at him to stop. He stumbled and knocked over a vase, breaking it. He looked so surprised. I was just as tall as him by that time and I’d never stood up to him before. He said so you do have some balls after all. Then he hit me again and again.”

  He broke off to kiss Sarah’s hair when she whimpered with distress, eyes shiny with tears, but his gaze was distant, already lost in the past. “This might sound strange but it was when he threw a mug of cold tea over my coursework that I lost it. I’d worked on it for weeks, it was almost ready to be handed in and just before the deadline too. I didn’t have a back-up on computer, we didn’t have one then. The whole thing had been painstakingly handwritten. I experienced this indescribable rage, it possessed me. I saw the knife in the block on the kitchen counter, the big butcher’s knife and I thought it was the perfect way out. I picked it up and started stabbing him until he stopped moving. The post-mortem said the seventh blow killed him but I’m sure they were wrong, he just wouldn’t stop fucking moving.”

  Both Cass and Brodie were startled by the brute savagery in his tone. Noticing this, Mark forced himself to relax. “I just wanted him gone so he couldn’t hurt us anymore. I’m sorry about the way it happened but I’m not sorry he’s dead.” He looked to Sarah. “Are you okay babe?”

  She blinked away her tears. “I was frightened to know but now I’m glad. You were just protecting yourself and your family. He would have ended up killing one of you one day.”

  “Probably, either Lauren or Mum,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. He looked to Brodie. “So you see, I did do it. There’s no big mystery, no matter how much you want there to be.”

  “The investigating officers at the time weren’t convinced you were responsible,” said Brodie.

  “You mean Greenacre? Yes, I know. He was like you, not satisfied with the truth, wanting there to be something more. Sometimes things are just as they appear.”

  Brodie wondered if he had hoped to see something that wasn’t there with his love of mysteries. What if he’d allowed himself to be distracted by an illusion of his own creation? But he wasn’t done yet. “What happened immediately after the stabbing?”

  “Seth came in. He’d heard the commotion and, as he’d got braver around Dad, he thought he’d make sure I was okay. But he was too late, it was all over.”

  “Wait a minute,” frowned Brodie. “He’d heard all the yelling and the vase being knocked over and the violence but he decided to check on you after all that stopped.”

  “Yes, that was what got him worried. The silence. You don’t understand what it was like in our house, shouting and smashing things were a way of life. When everything went quiet that was when you really needed to worry.”

  “What was his reaction?”

  “Shock. He walked in and stared at Dad. His face was completely white. He didn’t say a word, just patted me on the shoulder. It was one of the few times I’ve felt close to him. He called Mum into the room, who nearly fainted. She never could stand the sight of blood. She was the one who called the police.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “I knew it had to be done, covering it up like Seth wanted to would have landed us all in trouble.”

  “Seth wanted to dispose of the body?”

  “He said we should dump the bastard in the rubbish where he belonged but me and Mum overruled him. That would have got the whole family into trouble. I’d done it and I’d acted alone and I was willing to take my punishment.”

  “What about Lauren?”

  “Mum told her to stay in the front room but she didn’t listen. She walked in and started screaming the house down, not at all the blood and the fact he was dead, she screamed how much she hated him, all this stuff came out that she’d bottled up for years and now he was gone she could finally tell him what she thought of him. It was horrible. She was screaming and shaking, Mum was crying and Seth kept saying we were making a mistake and we should get rid of the body ourselves.”

  “And you?” said Brodie.

  “Me? I was in deep shock. I couldn’t believe what I’d done, even though my dad’s body was lying on the floor for all to see. I was stunned by the violence of it, I hadn’t thought myself capable. It had crossed all our minds at one point that Dad would push one of us too far, but we’d all assumed it would be Seth, or possibly Lauren would burn the house down around us, but not me.

  The police turned up and we were all questioned. I remember sitting in the armchair wrapped in a blanket, feeling Dad’s blood drying on me. I desperately wanted to wash it off but they wouldn’t let me, something about evidence.”

  “What did you think of Greenacre?”

  “He was kind to me. We all told him what Dad had been like and he believed us, we all knew I’d get away with self defence, there was too much evidence of Dad’s abuse. Then Greenacre turned weird. He kept telling me to tell the truth, he wouldn’t believe that I’d done it. He wanted Seth to be the one to blame because I was clever and had a bright future. He told me not to ruin my life for my brother. I know you think the same but it was nothing to do with Seth. I killed my dad and the only regret I have is that it hurt Sarah. Other than that I’m glad he’s dead and I’m not ashamed to say it.”

  “Thank you for being so candid Mr Creegan, we really appreciate it,” said Cass, getting to her feet.

  Brodie frowned up at her, wondering what the hell she was playing at, he had more questions but the look she gave him indicated they didn’t have time. That phone call must have been urgent. He got to his feet too. “Yes, we appreciate it,” said Brodie, extending his hand.

  Mark just frowned at the hand and took a drink, not deigning to accept it. “You’re leaving now?”

  “Yes.”
r />   “Good.”

  “Just the house, not the area.”

  Mark sighed and slammed his glass down on the coffee table. “I’ve fucking had enough of this. Finally I tell you about the worst day of my life and it’s still not enough. What do you want from me?”

  “The truth not that load of old fanny you just gave me.”

  Mark’s eyes bulged. “I told you the truth you daft bastard, it’s not my fault you won’t believe it.”

  “Do you seriously expect me to believe that your family just sat in the next room watching telly while you stabbed your dad to death?”

  “Yes because that’s what happened.”

  “Bollocks. They would have heard every second of that murder. You said it yourself, you were physically fighting and a stabbing isn’t nice and quiet, it’s noisy and messy.”

  “Seen one have you?” roared Mark, shooting to his feet and squaring up to Brodie.

  “Yes I fucking have.”

  There was a beat of silence, both Mark and Sarah shocked.

  “You stabbed the man twenty four times,” continued Brodie. “That would have attracted someone’s attention. No wonder Greenacre didn’t believe you. Not even your family’s fucked up enough not to intervene. I’m not saying the bastard didn’t get what he deserved, course he did, but your brother was the one who really killed him and you’re covering it up because it would put him right at the top of the suspect list for The Carver murders. Blood might be thicker than water to you but it isn’t to me. Seth is going to pay for what he’s done before he kills another woman and your stupid lies aren’t going to stop that.”

  “Stupid lies,” yelled Mark. “You weren’t there.”

  “I don’t need to be, the evidence speaks for itself.”

  “What evidence?”

  “Some of those stab wounds on your dad’s body, including the fatal wound, were done by a left-handed person. You are right-handed.”

  “I’m ambidextrous, like Seth.”

  “Bollocks. I’ve never seen you use your left hand once. That ambidextrous shit was dreamt up so no one could prove anything against your brother. What did you do Mark? Did one arm get tired when you were stabbing him so you stopped and switched to the other hand before carrying on? That’s not what happens in a frenzy. Seth killed him then you stabbed his dead body to cover your twin’s tracks, that’s why Bryan was stabbed so many times after he died.”