by Roberta Kray
The rain was starting to fall again, large steady drops that would shortly turn into a downpour.
‘Let’s get her into the car,’ he said, ‘before she freezes to death.’
Together they lifted her up and walked her slowly back round the path. She was shaky on her feet, stumbling, and it took a while for them to get her to the Vauxhall. The original group had disappeared from the front but a few party guests were gathered by the door. Harry didn’t see Zane or the girl he’d been with.
He opened the passenger door but Jess shook her head. ‘Better put her in the back,’ she said, ‘in case she throws up again. Little things like that tend to put me off my driving.’
After they’d manoeuvred her into the seat, Jess wound the window down a few inches. Harry dithered for a moment but then got in beside Maddie. He didn’t want her sitting on her own if she felt sick.
‘I’m going to get out of here,’ Jess said, ‘get away from the house. I’ll find somewhere to park and we can talk there. You all right, Maddie?’
She gave a forlorn nod of her head. ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled.
Jess reversed down the drive and checked that the street was clear. She drove a few hundred yards, found a space, pulled in and switched the engine off. ‘So,’ she said, turning to look at the girl again. ‘Where are you supposed to be tonight?’
‘At my friend Layla’s,’ Maddie said quietly. ‘On a sleepover. I often stay there. Mum doesn’t expect me back until tomorrow.’
‘Well, this is going to be a nice surprise for her,’ Harry said.
Maddie’s tearful eyes widened again. She buried her face in her hands as her voice rolled into a wail. ‘Oh, please, don’t take me home! She’ll be mad, really mad. She’ll never let me out again.’
Harry, unused to the histrionics of teenage girls, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced towards Jess, hoping for some moral support. He was disappointed.
‘Maybe you shouldn’t take her back like this,’ Jess said. ‘Look at the state of her.’
‘So what do you suggest?’ he snapped.
Maddie raised her head. ‘Couldn’t I stay with you and go back in the morning?’
‘No!’ Harry said instantly. It was completely out of the question, especially in the absence of Val. Being alone in his flat with a drunk, dishevelled teenage girl was the kind of mistake that led to wild accusations and stories in the tabloid press. Not to mention what Lorna would think if she ever found out. Damn it! He wished he’d called Lorna right at the start and then he wouldn’t even need to be having this conversation.
‘Tell you what,’ Jess said. ‘Let’s go to my place. She can get cleaned up, have some coffee and then we’ll take it from there.’
‘She needs to go home,’ Harry insisted.
‘Sure,’ Jess agreed, ‘but another hour won’t make much difference. Come on, her mother’s going to freak if she sees her like this.’
Harry couldn’t argue with that. Maddie looked and smelled like something dragged out of a gutter.
Maddie, sensing a temporary if not permanent reprieve, had the sense to keep her mouth shut. Her eyes flicked quickly between the two of them. Harry had the feeling that she was holding her breath.
‘I don’t like it,’ he said.
Jess shrugged and started up the car again. ‘You got a better idea?’
Chapter Forty-Seven
Harry was in the kitchen making a pot of fresh coffee. He was glad Jess had the real stuff; he needed more than a cup of instant to deal with this thorny problem. While he was watching it drip into the glass jug he poured himself a large brandy from the bottle in the cupboard; the Scotch was beginning to wear off, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.
‘I’m going to leave the door ajar while you take a shower,’ he heard Jess tell Maddie. ‘Don’t worry, no one can see you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.’
A few seconds later she came into the kitchen and grinned. ‘The joys of being young!’
Harry frowned at her. ‘It’s not funny,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘And it’s not the end of the world either. Don’t tell me you never did something you shouldn’t when you were a kid.’
‘That’s not the point. I work with Lorna. It’s a matter of trust. I should have rung her straight off. She’ll go ballistic when she finds out about this.’
‘She doesn’t need to find out about it,’ Jess said calmly. ‘Maddie can stay here tonight and I’ll run her back in the morning. By then she’ll be clean and sober. Where’s the harm?’
Harry could almost feel the harm gathering like large grey storm clouds all around him. If anything could have gone wrong recently it had – and now he was virtually inviting trouble into his life. ‘You want me to lie to Lorna?’
‘No one’s asking you to lie. If she asks you if Maddie was at Zane’s party tonight, if she calls you to go and pick her up, then obviously you’ll have to come clean. But, all things considered, what are the chances of that?’
Harry took a drink and shook his head. ‘That’s not how it works and you know it. If this ever comes out, she’ll never forgive me. I mean, what’s it going to look like?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Jess said. ‘Lighten up, can’t you?’
‘No,’ he said, annoyed. ‘I can’t. She’s a thirteen-year-old girl and I found her drunk and sick at Jimmy Keppell’s grandson’s party. And she’s probably been smoking dope. Jesus! And now, instead of taking her straight home, instead of ringing her mother, I’m being urged to collude in some ridiculous plot to pretend it never happened.’
‘Hardly that,’ Jess said. ‘Perhaps you should think of it more as damage limitation.’
‘And how exactly do you work that one out?’
Jess poured a small drink for herself. She looked down, swirling the brandy around the glass. ‘Well, Maddie hasn’t been hurt, apart from her pride – no girl relishes being dumped in public – and she’s learned a useful lesson. She won’t be going back there in a hurry. She’s made a fool of herself and she knows it. So if you take her home now, how is it going to help?’ She looked back up at him. ‘Let’s face it, there are going be ructions. You’re only going to make things worse. It’ll be knocking on midnight by the time we get to Kilburn and Lorna will probably be asleep. Do you really want to drag her out of bed and start explaining it all?’
Harry didn’t. But he didn’t like the alternative either. ‘Better that than she finds out in some other way. What if she talks to Layla’s parents?’
‘I don’t think she will. I just had a chat with Maddie and it seems these sleepovers are a fairly regular arrangement. She talked to her mother earlier, just before she got to the party. So far as Lorna is concerned, her daughter’s safely tucked up by now. Do you really want to be the one to tell her something different?’
Harry didn’t. He gazed down into his glass. There was sense to Jess’s reasoning although he was reluctant to admit it. What was that saying – What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over? Lorna probably had enough problems without him adding to them. But he still didn’t feel good about it.
Jess went out to check on Maddie. She came back and nodded. ‘Still standing,’ she said. Folding her arms, she looked at him. ‘Look, it’s your call, your decision. If you want me to drive her home then I will.’
‘But you think it’s the wrong thing to do.’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m just not sure what it’s going to achieve – other than the obvious.’
Harry wasn’t sure either. He put his empty glass beside the sink and poured strong coffee into two blue mugs. He thought about milk but then decided against it. Picking up one of the mugs, he walked through to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Jess followed him. She perched on the arm and sipped her coffee. Neither of them said anything. Eventually, they heard the sound of the shower cut off.
It was another few minutes before Maddie stepped tentatively into the silence of the room. She was w
rapped in a white towelling dressing gown, its hem trailing on the carpet, and her pale cheeks finally had a bit of colour in them. She glanced at them both before sitting down at the table. ‘Sorry,’ she said softly.
Jess smiled at her. ‘How are you feeling?’
She almost smiled back. ‘Stupid.’
Jess went through to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. ‘Here, sip this slowly.’
‘Are you going to tell my mum?’ Maddie said. ‘Are you going to make me go home?’
Jess looked at Harry. He looked back at her. Maddie nervously fiddled with the papers on the table. A set of photos slipped out of one of the files and she quickly tried to push them back inside. Then she stopped suddenly and stared. Her brow furrowed as she picked up one of the pictures with her fingertips. ‘Why have you got this?’
Jess leaned over her shoulder. Maddie was holding one of the close-up shots of Ellen Shaw that she had taken on Tuesday morning.
‘Do you know her?’ Jess said.
‘She looks like …’ Maddie peered a little closer at the print. ‘Zane’s uncle, the one who died, he had a girlfriend who looked just like her. He showed me a photo. She was kind of younger then but …’
‘Tony Keppell,’ Jess said.
Maddie nodded. ‘Yeah. Why have you got a picture of her?’
Jess shrugged. ‘Oh, no particular reason. It was just for a piece I was researching about the Deacon trial. I work for a local paper, the Herald. My files are always full of stuff.’
‘So was Tony really killed?’ Maddie said. ‘I thought Zane might be making it up.’ Her mouth twisted down at the corners. ‘He lies about a lot of things.’
‘Yeah,’ Jess said. ‘Teenage boys often do.’
Maddie continued to gaze at the photo. ‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’
Jess shot a sly glance towards Harry. ‘Some people think so,’ she said.
Harry pulled a face and turned away. Sometimes Jess irritated the hell out of him. In fact sometimes was rapidly becoming an understatement.
‘Must have been awful, him dying like that.’ Maddie gave a long dramatic sigh. ‘Poor Grace.’
There was a sudden almost shocking silence, a weirdly surreal moment while the name seemed to hang suspended in the air. Then Jess’s intake of breath was clearly audible. ‘What?’
Harry jumped to his feet, felt his knee violently protest and quickly sat down again. He opened his mouth and closed it. His heart was starting to pound.
Maddie looked confused. Aware of their reactions, her eyes widened. As if afraid that she had said or done something that she shouldn’t, she dropped the photograph and pushed it away from her.
‘It’s okay,’ Jess said, gently squeezing her hand. She was trying as hard as she could to stay calm. It wasn’t easy. A crazy mixture of dread and elation was flooding through her body. ‘It’s just … well, what makes you think this woman is called Grace?’
Still flustered, Maddie bit down on her lower lip and looked over towards Harry.
He forced a smile, trying to keep his voice in neutral. His attempt wasn’t that successful. The words, as they emerged, sounded decidedly croaky. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘There’s just been a bit of a mix-up. Was it Zane who told you? Did he tell you her name?’
Maddie shook her head. ‘No.’ Slowly she reached out and picked up the photograph again. She flipped it over. ‘It was written on the back. It said Tony and Grace.’
‘Are you sure?’ Jess said. She needed to hear it again, to be certain she wasn’t dreaming.
‘Yeah,’ Maddie said. ‘Is it important?’
‘Not really,’ Jess said, at exactly the same moment as Harry said, ‘Yes.’ Their eyes met in an almost confrontational gaze before they swiftly looked away from each other.
Harry was the first to speak again. ‘Sort of,’ he said. ‘Not that important but it’s always good to get the facts straight. Did Zane tell you anything else about her?’
Maddie took a sip of her water. ‘No.’ She stared down at the photo again. ‘Not really.’ She paused. ‘He mentioned something about his granddad.’
‘About Jimmy?’ Harry said.
‘Yeah, except … well, it was more about what Angie said about him.’
‘And what was that?’
Maddie took a moment to think about it. When she spoke, she was clearly quoting. ‘That if he hadn’t been shagging that cheap little slut it would never have happened.’
‘What wouldn’t have happened?’ Harry said.
‘I don’t know. I was … I’m not sure. I wasn’t really listening. I think he meant Tony getting killed.’
Harry’s eyes met Jess’s again. She held his gaze for a second and then looked back at Maddie. ‘Come on,’ she said, standing up. ‘I think it’s time you were in bed.’
Harry would have paced if his leg had been up to it. Instead, he sat on the sofa, staring intently at his feet. His head was swimming. He was thinking about Ellen Shaw. He was thinking about what Maddie had said. He was thinking about Valerie too. Being deceived was becoming more than an occupational hazard – even the person closest to him was doing it.
Jess came back with two glasses of brandy. She pushed one into his hand. ‘So,’ she murmured.
Lifting his face, he looked at her. ‘Is she all right?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Aren’t you going to say I told you so?’
Jess stared straight back. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile. ‘Maybe I’ll do the smug stuff later. Right now I need to try and get my head round this.’
Harry nodded. ‘Can Ellen really be Grace Harper?’
‘Len thought she was. Maddie seems to have confirmed it.’
‘I don’t understand. I just don’t get it.’
She sat down beside him. ‘You and me both.’
Harry took a swig from the glass. He suspected he’d already drunk too much but then how much was too much on a night like this? Maddie’s revelation had shocked him back into a place too close to sobriety. ‘I have to talk to her, to Ellen.’
‘No,’ Jess said. ‘We need to talk to her.’
‘It might be better if I do it alone. She knows me.’
But Jess was adamant. ‘No, I’m coming with you. You’ve seen her twice and she’s lied to you twice.’
‘Not entirely,’ he said.
‘Enough,’ she said. She felt sorry for him but not half as sorry as she felt for Len. This was the break she’d been waiting for and there was no way she was going to let it slip through her fingers.
Harry looked at his watch. It was twenty past eleven. ‘It’s too late to call now. I’ll ring first thing tomorrow, see if I can get her to meet me.’
‘Us,’ Jess stressed.
‘It might be better if I left that little detail out,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll tell her I want to talk about Jimmy.’
‘Don’t mention the photograph.’
‘I’m not an idiot,’ Harry said. Although bearing in mind his recent track record that was maybe a matter of debate.
Chapter Forty-Eight
It was a crisp, bright sunny day. Standing in the middle of the piazza, Harry gazed up at the pale blue sky while he pondered on the wisdom of what he was doing. Jess wouldn’t be happy when she found out; at best she would throw one almighty hissy fit – at worst she would cut out his heart and feed it to the pigs.
Since when had he turned into such a consummate liar? From the moment he’d got out of bed this morning, he’d barely spoken a word of truth. It had started with his call to Ellen. He’d had a story ready in case her husband answered: that he was ringing from the local police station, that it was only routine, just a few follow-up questions connected to the Len Curzon case. In the event he hadn’t needed it. She had picked up the phone, listened to what he had to say about having some news on the car that had almost run them down, and suggested that they meet in Covent Garden.
Even before hanging up, he had known that he would not
tell Jess. He had convinced himself that it was for the greater good, that Ellen was unlikely to talk if she was there, but it was only partly true. The bottom line was that he wanted to be alone when he saw her.
‘It’ll have to be tomorrow,’ he’d said to Jess a few minutes later. ‘She can’t make it today.’
‘Why not?’ He had heard her frustration echo down the line. ‘We need some answers. You should have insisted.’
‘And what good would that have done? I’m trying to keep it casual. I don’t want to scare her off.’
‘I suppose,’ she had muttered reluctantly.
‘How’s Maddie?’ he’d asked, changing the subject. ‘Did you get her home all right?’
‘She’s fine. Well, as fine as she’s going to be after everything that happened. I took her back to Kilburn this morning.’
‘Did Lorna see you?’
‘Not unless she’s got X-ray vision. I dropped her off round the corner.’
‘Okay. Thanks. I’ll call you later.’
Harry found himself wondering why he’d thanked her. After all, she was the one who’d persuaded him not to tell Lorna. It had been the wrong thing to do but now wasn’t the time to start stressing over that particular mistake; it was just another regret on an ever-growing list.
He was still early. They weren’t due to meet for another twenty minutes and so he meandered instead along the line of stalls, looking at the displays of jumpers and shoes and jewellery. Business was brisk. He stopped to examine a silver necklace, a delicate piece that Valerie would have liked. He thought about buying it for her for Christmas … until he suddenly remembered that in all probability there would be no exchange of presents this year. Quickly, he moved on.
Down the steps, on the lower level, a string quartet was playing. Harry leaned his elbows against the balcony railings, looked down and listened. The music was pleasant, even soothing, but not quite soothing enough to quell the bewildering statement that kept rolling through his head: Ellen Shaw is Grace Harper. He had tried all night to find an alternative explanation for what Maddie had seen but had come up with nothing. Well, not exactly nothing; for a while he had toyed with the notion that it could simply be a case of mistaken identity. She was only a kid and, on this occasion, not an entirely sober one. Could she have got it wrong? It was a hope he would have liked to hold on to but he knew it was pointless.
