For All Our Sins: A gripping thriller with a killer twist (DCI Claire Winters, Book 1)
Page 37
Claire realised what was about to happen, the feeling hitting her full force like she’d been punched in the stomach.
‘Amelia, no!’ she screamed, her body lurching forward.
Grasping Michael tight against her, Amelia stepped off the edge.
CHAPTER 94
SFO Brendan Warren saw the blood splattered over the wall and feared the worst. He and a team of AFOs had stormed the building after they heard the second lot of gunfire after Michael had shot at officers on the ground.
He feared the worst when he caught sight of Stefan lying on the ground ahead of him.
He felt his heart sink.
He pushed his fingers against Stefan’s neck and waited.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a steady pulse beat beneath his fingers. He searched for any other gunshot wounds other than to Stefan’s shoulder but found none.
He looked up and saw bullet holes in the walls ahead of him that appeared to have been fired at random.
He carefully pushed Stefan’s head to one side. It was then he saw the huge gash to his right temple where Michael had beat him with the gun.
***
Looking down over the edge of the roof, Claire saw they lay as they had fallen.
Amelia’s eyes were open, in a lifeless cold stare. Her hair was now a darker shade of red, matted in her own blood.
Michael was lying on top of her, head hung forward over her shoulder, blood leaking from his forehead.
Claire was glad she couldn’t see his face.
She knew the shape of his mouth, his face and colour of his skin wouldn’t look like the man she’d once known.
Her vision clouded.
Everything that was happening around her didn’t feel real any more. She felt like she was walking in a nightmare of her own creation.
A nightmare she tried frantically to wake from.
CHAPTER 95
Five weeks later
Stefan poked his head around Claire’s office door, which she had propped open to let some air circulate. When he saw his presence had gone unnoticed, he gently coughed. Claire looked up, startled at first, but then her face softened.
‘Come in, Fletch. Have a seat.’ Stefan sat and gave half a smile. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Just came to see if there were any developments, and ask how you were. It’s my first day back and I feel like a mushroom…kept in the dark and fed on shit.’
She nodded but didn’t smile.
Her eyes were dull and all the life seemed to have been sucked from her. ‘Well,’ she said, anger in her voice, ‘after reading the investigation into Rebecca’s disappearance, it’s looking like a complete botched job. Failings on all counts and the press are going to have a field day.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yep, and it’ll be hitting the fan soon,’ she said, leaning back in her chair. ‘DI Benedict was in charge of Rebecca’s disappearance at the time… We’ve got a whole load of evidence that was overlooked, statements that didn’t add up and now Rebecca’s parents are calling for an inquiry.
‘Jane and Harper are liaising with Norfolk’s CID department into identifying the body washed ashore in Cromer.’
Stefan nodded. ‘Anybody’s guess who that was.’
‘Probably someone who wouldn’t be missed. Then there’s the Jenkins family. Mark at least knew of some of the cruelty aimed at Amelia and Stephen whilst under Manuela’s care. He’s been charged.’
‘Yeah, I read that.’ He ran his hands through his hair and exhaled as he digested her words. ‘Any news on a date for Manuela’s trial?’
‘Due to be announced shortly is all I’ve been told. Depending on his health, of course. Despite his injuries, the old dog’s got a lot of strength left in him… He will pay for what he’s done, Fletch. There’ll be no easy way out for him.’
Stefan nodded but remained silent, casting his mind back to Manuela’s wounds. Not many would have survived the trauma. Somehow he did.
Some might call that divine intervention.
There remained a long pause before Stefan braved the subject he knew she’d be expecting.
‘And how are you coping?’
She didn’t look up but shrugged her shoulders.
‘As well as can be expected, I guess. I even get to have private counselling sessions… I convinced the panel I was ready to return to work.’
She picked up her cup of water and drained it. Then she stared out of her window.
‘Are you ready?’ She avoided his eyes and didn’t offer any response. ‘You did all you could, Claire.’
‘Did I?’ she said immediately, as if she’d predicted his words before he’d even thought them. ‘Maybe I didn’t, Fletch. Maybe I could’ve reasoned with him more, talked him round. Maybe tried harder.’
‘I think he was beyond reasoning by then. He would’ve killed you and he shot me, not to mention beat me unconscious.’
She paused and processed his words.
‘Suicide was never an option for him. He didn’t want to die. He had choices but Amelia took that away from him.’ A shiver ran through her body. ‘I keep…I keep seeing him fall. I keep hearing him hit the ground.’
Stefan leaned across and tried to catch her eye but she refused to look at him.
‘You can’t forget what he did, Claire. No matter how much you try and justify his actions.’ He let his words hang for a moment. ‘And you can’t forget about what he did to poor Chloe.’
‘I haven’t!’ She swung around in her chair. ‘I was going to visit her today.’
Stefan frowned. ‘She’s still in hospital.’
‘I know.’
‘But you hate hospitals.’
‘For her, I’ll make the exception.’ She pushed herself out of her chair. ‘I was told she woke up yesterday. First time since he…’ She broke off as she felt a lump in her throat.
This side of Claire Winters was unknown to most people.
Rude, feisty, cold and arrogant were understood, even if they weren’t accepted by many, but this new-found sense of empathy was treading on new territory.
Stefan had been trying his best to stick by her over the last few weeks since she’d watched Amelia take Michael’s – Stevie’s – life.
It hadn’t been easy.
‘It’s OK, Claire…to grieve I mean.’
Once Claire heard his words, it was as if someone had flicked a switch and she seemed to shake off her self-pity.
‘Oh, fuck off, Fletch.’ She sniffed and gave him a smile. ‘I’m not quite ready for that yet.’
Stefan smiled and shook his head. ‘Maybe not yet, but it’s nice to see you’re not completely dead inside as everybody thinks.’
‘Yeah, I’m everybody’s walking contradiction.’ She didn’t wait for him to answer. ‘I’ll be gone for a few hours. You think you can hold the fort for a while until I get back?’
‘Is that a promotion I hear coming?’
Claire looked at him as she slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘Don’t push your luck,’ she said as she walked past him.
It was only after she’d left the incident room that she found herself smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks.
CHAPTER 96
Chloe’s eyes opened, squinting under the fluorescent hospital lights. She glanced at the blinds blocking out the sunshine from the window to her left and wished she had enough strength to get out of bed and pull them.
She’d known darkness for far too long these past weeks.
She was about to reach for the red call button when she heard footsteps approaching.
The handle on the door moved and then the door opened.
Chloe’s eyes widened, not with fear, but sheer surprise as Claire Winters walked through the door. She was sure there was some hint of a smile on her face but she couldn’t be sure.
Claire hovered in the doorway.
‘Can I come in? I wasn’t sure if you would be up for visitors or not.’
Chloe gr
imaced. ‘Did you bring grapes?’
‘Erm…should I have?’
Chloe waved her hand for her to close the door. ‘God, no. I hate grapes. Joe brought me some earlier, and I haven’t the heart to tell him.’
‘Your boss Joe?’
‘Yeah. He’s been coming to see me the whole time I was out. Kinda nice of him, huh?’
Claire nodded, even though deep down she thought the loathsome man was one of the last people she’d want to see. Then she realised that Chloe quite literally had no one else.
She pulled up a chair from the corner and sat down beside the bed but said nothing.
Chloe looked at her with her head cocked to one side and after a minute had passed she laughed.
‘Usually when people visit they talk.’
Claire raised her eyes from the floor and smiled. ‘Sorry. I’m just not used to this.’
‘Yeah, I can tell… Is this a social call or police business?’
‘Social.’ Chloe waited for her to elaborate. ‘I felt I should come, considering what happened with Mich—’ She broke off mid-sentence. ‘I mean Stephen.’
Chloe looked down at her hands and picked at her nails.
‘You weren’t to know,’ she said at length. ‘But it means a lot that you came.’
Just at that moment they were startled by the door swinging open and Joe Carter walked into the room. His face looked angry, especially when he clapped eyes on Claire.
‘You!’ he said, pointing a finger at her. ‘I knew it was you when the nurse described Chloe’s new visitor. Why are you here? Haven’t you caused enough heartache? Chloe could’ve died, but I don’t suppose that even mattered to you, did it? You lot are all the same.’
Claire stood up and raised her hands to calm him. ‘I’m here as a friend.’
Carter sneered at her.
‘You left her at the mercy of that head case. You need to get out before I throw you out.’
‘No, Joe, it’s OK. I want her to stay. Please, just come see me later,’ Chloe said.
Carter sucked in a few deep breaths and went to speak again, but saw the look on Chloe’s face. Looking back at Claire, he nodded reluctantly.
‘I want you gone within the next half hour.’
For once, Claire decided to let him have the final word.
Carter leaned in to Chloe and kissed her on the forehead. ‘She gives you any trouble, just use the call button,’ he said, handing it to her.
Chloe rolled her eyes but took it regardless. After he had left she turned to Claire, throwing the call button on the bed.
‘Sorry about that.’
Claire sat back down again and stared at her sad eyes. ‘Why is he suddenly all over you? I got the impression you loathed him.’
Chloe shrugged hard and stared at the window.
‘I guess I just need somebody. That’s why I had been accepting his dinner dates. You know, when I saw Father Wainwright in that restaurant? That was our second date.’
She smiled to herself, and then looked at the blinds. ‘Can you open those for me, please? I’m longing to see the sun.’
Claire obliged and they both squinted as the sunlight filled the room. Afterwards Claire returned to her seat.
‘How would you feel if I organised some help for you?’
Chloe looked away from her and thought for a moment. ‘What kind of help? Counselling, I take it?’
‘Yes.’
‘No, thanks.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t need that kind of help,’ she said, staring at Claire. She reached for Claire’s hand and held it tight. ‘I just need a friend.’ Claire was taken aback but found herself holding her hand in return.
‘If that’s what you need, and I can help, I will,’ she said, her voice genuine. ‘Who knows, maybe I’ll benefit from it too.’
‘Do you think I could do something else with my life, Chief Inspector? That’d be pretty much a miracle in itself.’
Claire smiled. ‘Call me Claire. And you shouldn’t talk like that. I can help you get out of the stripping, if that’s what you truly want?’
Chloe nodded and smiled back at her. A resounding unspoken yes in a silent room.
Claire paused, went to speak again, but found it hard to say the words.
‘What is it?’ Chloe said.
Claire shifted in her seat. ‘How close did you get to Amelia?’ Chloe avoided her eyes. ‘You don’t have to tell me now.’
‘It’s painful to talk about,’ Chloe said. ‘Guess I should just accept the fact that I did love her…once.’
‘You got in the way of her and Stephen, didn’t you?’
Chloe nodded. ‘I was drawn to her, like everyone else.’ She sighed. ‘She chose him over me, though, which was for the best, I see that now. Our relationship was toxic, but I loved her.’ She smiled sadly to herself. ‘Stupid of me.’
‘You were young. She had a hold on you.’
Chloe nodded, fighting back tears. She used the back of her hand to wipe them away, while the other hand clasped the locket around her neck. Something Claire had begun to notice she did when stressed.
‘My father,’ Chloe said, suddenly. ‘What will happen to him?’
‘He’s not going to avoid a prison sentence, if that’s what you mean.’
Chloe lowered her eyes. ‘Good. I hope he and Manuela suffer and rot for what they did.’
‘Your father didn’t murder anyone, Chloe.’
‘No, but he knew things that he kept quiet. After all these years, I’ve realised that what he did, how he treated Amelia and Stephen, was wrong. Maybe I could’ve done more. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended up like they did. Guess I’ll never know now.’
Claire shrugged.
‘You think they were born to be like that, don’t you?’
Claire was a little taken aback by her statement.
‘It can be difficult for those left behind to try and get their head around something like this. I’ve seen enough crimes to know who was a product of their environment and who was born to do evil things.’ Claire left her seat and stood by the window.
Chloe shut her eyes. ‘I think about what my parents knew, about what they might have concealed. I can’t forgive them. I won’t forgive them. Whatever Amelia and Stephen became, my parents were part of that.’
‘There’s no chance of reconciliation, then?’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Not even with your mother?’
Chloe took a moment to think. Deep down she did still love her mother, but whenever she felt the urge to pick up the phone and hear her voice, she made herself remember why her life had turned out the way it had so far.
She shook her head.
‘I can’t forgive her. Too much has passed between us.’ Claire nodded and looked back out of the window, her arms folded tightly. ‘If it were your mother, would you?’
Claire smiled.
‘Oh, my mother is far worse.’ She walked closer to the bed, her face serious again. ‘Only you can be the judge of your own decisions, Chloe. Make sure you’re cutting her off for the right reasons.’
CHAPTER 97
Four months later
Claire pulled her car up to the small quaint house and turned to her passenger.
‘There you go. Same time next week?’
Chloe Jenkins pulled her bag from the back seat and got out of the car. ‘Yeah, sure thing. You know, I think the college course is working. All I want to do is try out all the recipes.’
Claire smiled and looked over the top of her sunglasses.
‘The next Nigella in the making. I’ll expect an invite to your first dinner party.’
Chloe smiled and Claire waited until she let herself into her new home before driving off.
***
Chloe watched her drive away, and stood by the window, peeking out through the slats in the blinds until the car was out of sight.
Then the mask slipped.
She sighed to he
rself, and longed to leave this place. It’d been four months now since everything came to its ugly conclusion. She opened the drawer to the sideboard beside her and stared down at the money she’d been withdrawing in lumps from her bank account over the last few months.
Soon she’d be away from this place. Free to start again where nobody knew her name or her past.
She reached for the locket around her neck, undid the clasp, and held it in the palm of her hand. She traced a finger over the front of the oval-shaped design before popping the catch that held it closed.
A spiral of red hair fell into her hand, and Chloe coiled it around her fingers and smiled. Instinctively she turned her wrist and looked down at her tattoo. She still remembered the day she’d got it. It had been the day Amelia had walked out of her family home.
She traced the curves of the design with the finger of her other hand.
To anyone else it was a meaningless design, something almost tribal, insignificant. At certain angles that would be true.
To Chloe, all she had to do was bring her hand up, bending her arm at the elbow, wrist towards her face and the image of the ‘A’ would give her the strength she needed.
Chloe closed her eyes and remembered the day she’d started the fire in the Chapel. The image was always so vivid, that she could still smell the smoke, hear the crackle of the flames as it tore through the building, destroying everything in its path.
After the flames, the memory was the same.
Amelia’s call after she’d broken out of Stokebrook.
It was an image that still cut Chloe deeply. Amelia had it all worked out, and Chloe tagged along for the ride.
Chloe shut the locket, squeezed it hard in her hand until it hurt.
She let it fall to the floor, and she kicked it under the sofa. In her other hand she clasped the lock of Amelia’s hair.
She took it to the kitchen, and ignited the gas hob on the cooker. She took a deep breath, held it until she thought her lungs might burst, before expelling the breath, and dropping the lock into the flames.
She watched it curl and disintegrate to nothing, the smell of burning hair, sickly and sweet, filling the kitchen.
It had taken every ounce of her strength to block out the past. This was her only way forward.