The Attic Room: A psychological thriller
Page 7
Sam was chuckling when she lifted the phone. ‘I’ve been called many things, but ‘that lawyer’ isn’t one of them. Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine, but she’s spitting nails about her missed trek. Is there any news?’
‘No. I called to say I’ll phone the crematorium this morning and organise about the ashes. Do you want them scattered in the garden of remembrance there?’
‘Yes. Thanks.’ Nina felt guilty. Should she be doing more with John Moore’s ashes? If he did turn out to be her father, and if the accusations made in the anonymous letter were false, she might regret leaving everything to Sam. But then, if John Moore had cared what happened to his ashes he would have left instructions.
‘I’ll come by late afternoon to let you know what they say.’
Surprised, Nina agreed, and sat nursing another cup of coffee while Naomi finished her third piece of toast then ran upstairs to reorganise her things in John Moore’s chest of drawers. Nina mulled over her coffee. It was hard to see why Sam wasn’t just planning to phone and tell her what he’d arranged for the ashes. She couldn’t shake off the feeling he wanted more contact than she did. Oh yes, she liked him, and she knew that if life had been less messy and distressing she might well have felt differently about his dinner invitations. But a death in the family – or two deaths, as John Moore was family too – plus a grieving daughter, plus a big mess here – it was all too much. She needed Naomi and she needed to find peace before she could think about anything else – and she needed Sam to respect that.
The phone in the study shrilled out again and she jumped up to answer it, limping on her left leg, which had gone to sleep on the hard kitchen chair. Why was everyone calling on the landline today? Oh, her mobile was switched off. She hadn’t wanted anything to disturb her and Naomi the night before. Nina switched it back on and lifted the house phone.
‘Hello?’
A stranger’s voice answered, and Nina’s knees began to shake as she listened to the high-pitched, distorted voice. She held on to the desk with her free hand, feeling her breath catch in her throat.
‘Nina, Nina. It’s you now, you have the money, but it’s not your money, is it, Nina? You did nothing to earn it. I did all the earning and all the suffering, and I want payment for that and I’ll get it, too. Mind that if you know what’s good for you. I’ll be in touch.’
The line went dead. Nina dropped the handset and fell to her knees on the study floor, clutching her middle. Shit, shit, she had spoken to the scumbag blackmailer. Her stomach heaved and she clutched it, oh God she was going to be sick. He had known her name…
Still shaking, she forced herself to her feet and stood leaning on the desk, panting. Please let Naomi stay upstairs, please, her daughter mustn’t see her like this; she’d be scared witless. But that terrible voice… had it been the blackmailer? Or some other pervert after the money… David, she had to call David Mallony, right now this minute. Fighting to keep control of her gut, Nina scrabbled on the desk for the number of the police station.
David came to the phone himself. ‘I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes,’ he said, and the very neutrality in his voice sent a further shiver down Nina’s spine. ‘I was coming round this morning anyway. There’ve been some developments.’
Nina was left holding a dead phone. She stood there, her breath coming in short pants. The developments weren’t going to be good news, she had heard that loud and clear. They must have found out something about John Moore, something that was too horrible to tell her over the phone. And hell, Naomi was right here in the middle of it all. Oh, what should she do, what should she do? Loneliness crept into her head as she realised that apart from Sam, there was nobody she could call on for help.
‘Mum! What’s wrong?’
Naomi was beside her, putting her arms round her, cuddling her. Nina held on tightly, feeling Naomi’s heart beating next to her own and breathing in the scent of her child. Blessed calmness crept through her. This, right here, was the single important thing in her life. For Naomi, she could – and would – do anything.
Strengthened, Nina made sure her voice was reassuring. ‘It’s all right, darling. Remember I told you John Moore had been sent a blackmail letter? Well, the – I think that was the blackmailer on the phone. It gave me a fright but I’ve called the police and they’re coming round. Naomi, darling, I want you to be very good and stay upstairs while they’re here.’
She saw refusal in Naomi’s face and went on firmly. ‘I promise I’ll tell you afterwards what’s going on, but some of the things DI Mallony might want to talk about aren’t for you to hear yet.’
The doorbell rang before Naomi could answer, and Nina kept the girl hugged to her side while she answered it. David Mallony was there with Sabine Jameson.
‘This is my daughter Naomi. She’s going upstairs while we talk.’
Naomi tugged at Nina’s sleeve. ‘Can I go right up to the attic room? I could see what’s in those old boxes?’
Nina opened her mouth to agree, but David was already speaking.
‘Right – um – hello Naomi. Ah, Nina, I should have told you – don’t touch the boxes, will you?’ he said, looking from Nina to Naomi in a way that made Nina feel giddy. She listened incredulously as he went on.
‘We might need to, um, fingerprint them later. In fact it might be an idea if DC Sabine here goes upstairs with you, Naomi.’
Nina gaped at him. Why on earth would the police want to fingerprint the boxes in the attic? They didn’t look as if anyone had been near them for decades. The sick feeling returned to her stomach. What was going on?
The young detective followed Naomi upstairs, and David Mallony turned to Nina, his face grim.
‘You can guess it’s not good news,’ he said, as they went into the kitchen and sat down.
‘We found large numbers of pornographic images on the hard drive of John Moore’s computer, most of them involving young boys. Children. Paedophilia. I’m sorry.’
Nina inhaled sharply and clapped both hands to her mouth. So the horrible suspicion had become even more horrible reality. For long seconds she couldn’t speak. She was living in this man’s house, using his towels, drinking his coffee. And she’d stood beside him in his coffin and felt pity, shit, she’d admired him for being brave… and all the time he’d been the worst kind of low-life possible.
‘Christ. What can I tell Naomi?’ she whispered.
David Mallony leaned towards her. ‘You’ll have to think about that. We don’t know yet if he simply kept the images for his own gratification, or whether he was involved in distributing them – or making them.’
Nina’s head reeled. This was getting worse and worse. What if -
‘Oh God – does that mean the blackmailer was telling the truth?’
But the answer to that must be ‘yes’… dear God… Her relation had been the absolute worst kind of pervert, for nothing could be worse than abusing children. And oh, fuck… had it only been other children? Or had she been abused too? Had she ‘screamed her poor little head off’?
Her gut spasmed as she stared in horror at David Mallony, seeing the sympathy in his eyes. The only thing that would make her feel a tiny bit better was if John Moore was no relation to her at all. And that seemed so very unlikely now.
‘Have you found out his relationship to me?’ Her voice came out a mere whisper, and continued silently in her head. Please let him be a ten millionth cousin a billion times removed, please…
His voice was heavy. ‘Bad news again, I’m afraid. There’s a marriage registered between him and Claire Lily Donaldson. One child, Nina Claire Moore. And there was no divorce.’
Nina thudded her fist on the table. What the shit had Claire been thinking? This would be why she left Bedford with Nina, and she must have had her reasons for keeping the paedophilia a secret, but it had still been wrong. It was all very well holding something like that back from a child, but Nina should have been told as soon as she’d grown up.
‘Oh God – I don’t know what to do for the best.’ Nina rubbed her face with both hands. ‘Is there any reason we can’t go home straightaway?’
But if they did that, she would only have to return at some point to finish the business with the house. How very much better it would be to get it all organised first and then never darken John Moore’s door again.
‘It’s up to you,’ said David.
Nina bit her lip. She might as well get the job finished. It wouldn’t take long, a planning session with Sam and then she could sign anything necessary, clear the house and then be off… and they would manage it quicker living here than in a hotel.
‘Okay. I’ll stay in town another day or two but if anything more happens we’ll go to a hotel. That was why you sent the policewoman upstairs with Naomi, wasn’t it – in case there are boxes of nasty photos up there.’
‘Yes. But don’t worry. If there’s anything to be found we’ll get it out of here,’ he said. ‘Now, tell me what this caller said, as exactly as you can remember.’
When the two officers left Nina checked the time. Shit, it was twelve already. What a stomach-turning way to spend a morning. She turned to Naomi, who was standing in the hallway, her face one big question mark.
‘Right, Miss,’ said Nina briskly. ‘Information. First of all, the police have found out that John Moore was involved in some sort of – of illegal business. That’s why he was being blackmailed. So he was wrong and the blackmailer was wrong too. Secondly, and I don’t understand this myself yet, but there’s a possibility that John Moore was my father. The test results will tell us that and they should be back in a day or two so let’s wait for them before we get carried away about that, okay?’ Half-truths maybe, but this way she’d have a bit more badly-needed thinking time.
Naomi’s eyes were fixed on Nina’s. Nina reached out and hugged the girl quickly. Thank God her daughter was old enough to understand this much, at least. Pretending that everything was all right would have been next to impossible.
‘Thirdly, the police are coming to have a look round here, to see if there’s any evidence that might help them investigate the illegal business. They’re going to tap the landline too, in case the blackmailer calls again, so don’t you answer that phone, ever, no matter what. And fourthly you are one mucky pup, skedaddle upstairs and change that disgusting pullover before we go into town.’
Naomi giggled, then caught Nina’s arm. ‘Mum – it’s going to be okay, isn’t it?’
Nina hugged her again. ‘As Inspector Mallony said, it’s really nothing to do with us, so yes, it’ll be okay in the end. It’s a bit messy at the moment, though, but you don’t have to worry about that. Okay?’
Naomi shot off upstairs, and Nina pulled out her mobile. Under the circumstances it might be best if she disturbed Sam’s lunch hour to tell him what was going on. He listened without interrupting, and his voice was angry when he spoke.
‘What a bastard, threatening you like that. Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine now. It was horrible at the time. And apparently John Moore is my father, Sam. I feel sick about that.’
‘I know. Some of the queries I put through came back too. You have a couple of cousins as well, but no one that could upset the will so nothing changes there. If you wanted to get in touch with them we could find them for you. Nina, I was wondering if you and Naomi would like to go for a picnic by the river – there’s some kind of water event on today. I think Naomi might enjoy it, and it would get you out of the place when the police are searching it. What time are they coming?’
‘About four. That sounds perfect; she’s a real water-rat. Thanks, Sam.’
His voice was warm in her ear. ‘Great. I’ll bring the grub.’
Nina put the phone down and stood staring at it. Cousins? So they did have family in England…
Chapter Ten
Claire’s story – Edinburgh
‘Squirrel, squirrel!’ cried Nina, running across the grass in Princes Street Gardens, losing both her red Christmas mittens in the process. Claire and Lily laughed.
‘She’s having a ball here, isn’t she?’ said Lily, as Claire returned from retrieving Nina’s mitts.
Claire could only agree. Her gaze swung from the dark heights of Edinburgh Castle towering above them, to the shoppers up on Princes Street, a colourful mass of well-wrapped-up bargain hunters doing the January sales. And Nina wasn’t the only one who was enjoying Edinburgh life. It wasn’t until she came home to stay with her parents that Claire realised how much time she’d spent in Bedford walking around on tip-toe, afraid to make her presence felt in case Robert lashed out with another hurtful remark.
Marry in haste, repent at leisure was dead right, she thought, watching Lily point out the people at the top of the Scott Monument to distract Nina from chasing squirrels. It had taken the geographical separation from Robert before she’d allowed herself to think too much about it. Living with Mum and Dad was so restful in comparison. And in the few weeks since their arrival Nina had become chattier, laughing more too, which made Claire angry. Even a baby like Nina was sensitive to the atmosphere in a house, and after what Paul said that awful afternoon in Bedford there was no way of knowing how long Robert had been bullying the children – without her noticing a thing. She hadn’t been much of a mother to her child, but she was going to change that now.
‘I want to stay in Edinburgh, Mum,’ she said quietly, and Lily squeezed her arm.
‘Of course you can stay. I’m sorry things haven’t worked out for you and Robert, but you tried, and your Dad and I’ll help all we can. It’s a good thing I’m not working – you can find a job and I’ll be there to take care of Nina.’
Claire squeezed back. Her parents had always done the old-fashioned thing. Mum was housewife and Dad was breadwinner. It was the right arrangement for them.
She straightened her shoulders. The ‘holiday’ was over. She would go to the job centre tomorrow; she couldn’t expect her parents to support her and Nina indefinitely. Another problem was that the Morningside semi where she had grown up only had two bedrooms, so as well as a job she would have to find a flat. Life in Edinburgh would be a lot less luxurious than life in Bedford, but then money couldn’t buy the important things anyway.
And oh, Lord, she’d have to get things organised with Robert, child support and so on. All he knew was what she’d told him when she called from King’s Cross before boarding the train for Edinburgh – that she didn’t like his behaviour and wanted a ‘trial separation over Christmas’. Not that she’d had any idea of returning, but it was as well to give him time to get used to the idea. He phoned every few days, trying to persuade her back to Bedford, but all she heard in his voice now was insincerity. He would be missing someone to keep the place clean, of course. How on earth could she have been so taken in by his good looks and charm? Unbelievable, how naive she’d been. But that was over.
She called Robert that night and informed him curtly that she wanted a divorce. It was easy to be brave when your abusive soon-to-be-ex-husband was several hundred miles away, and Claire congratulated herself on her decisive tone.
Robert, however, was equally firm. ‘I’m not discussing this on the phone,’ he said, and she could hear the anger in his voice. ‘I’ll come up to Edinburgh at the weekend. But I warn you, Claire, I’m not giving Nina up. She’s my daughter too and I want her back here, with or without you.’
Claire gripped the phone, her fingers shaking. She would tell Robert what she thought of him, right now, in case her new-found bravery deserted her when he was standing in front of her.
/> ‘Oh yes? You love her so much you bullied her and Paul and frightened them both half to death, not to mention hurting them,’ she said, distance allowing the sneer in her voice . ‘That’s abuse, you know. It’s despicable. Paul told me all about what you did that last afternoon, oh, yes. Not much love there, was there? If I went to the police with a story like that they would stop you seeing Nina first thing and you know it.’
There was silence at the end of the phone. His breath had caught when she’d spoken, so she’d taken the wind out of his sails anyway. Apparently he did know that hitting small children was unacceptable.
‘We’ll talk at the weekend,’ he said at last, and hung up before she could reply.
Claire thought carefully about how best to arrange her meeting with Robert. No way was she inviting him to her parents’ home; she would take him somewhere in town. It might actually be an idea to ask Lily to come along for moral support – Robert would be more restrained if his mother-in-law was there too. But then, it was hardly fair to drag Lily into her mess of a marriage.
In the end she decided to meet him alone, in a coffee bar on Hanover Street near Waverley Station. That would be better than parading up and down outside with Robert making snide remarks and possibly even threats. She and her friends used to go to ‘Saluti a Tutti’ on Saturday nights when they were teenagers, and the proprietor, a fatherly Milanese, would chase them out at midnight with a great deal of Scottish-Italian humour. Today, she was glad to see him still manning the espresso machine. If Robert tried anything on, she’d only have to shout and Guido would come running.
It wasn’t an easy conversation. Robert arrived at the coffee bar while she was standing chatting to Guido, who melted away tactfully. Claire gathered her courage and frowned at Robert, who greeted her with his most charming smile, called her his ‘wee lassie’ for the first time since before she’d been pregnant and would have hugged her, too, if she hadn’t sidestepped. He ordered her favourite cappuccinos for them both and he was calm, witty, articulate – in fact he turned his considerable powers of persuasion on full strength, and Claire realised anew why she’d fallen for him in the first place. This time, however, she knew it was an act, and when he paused to sip his coffee she told him quite bluntly that her mind was made up.