Deadly Alibi

by Leigh Russell

  ‘I just wondered what she was like, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, you ain’t going to find out much from a few old photos.’

  Geraldine nodded. Her sister was probably right. She waited while Helena finished eating.

  ‘Was that good?’

  ‘It was all right.’

  As Helena reached for her tea, the sleeve of her baggy cardigan slipped off her shoulder. She pulled it up again quickly, but not before Geraldine caught a glimpse of red puncture marks on the inside of her elbow.

  ‘So what was she like?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Our mother,’ Geraldine said patiently. ‘What was she like?’

  Helena shook her head. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Tell me something about her. Anything you can think of.’

  ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’

  ‘I just want to know what she was like. Was she a good mother?’

  Helena screwed up her face, considering. ‘She was tight,’ she said at last.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She had money stashed away that she wouldn’t let me have. I know because I heard her talking on the phone. Well, she’s dead now and no one can stop me getting what’s mine.’ As though she realised what she was saying, she changed her tack. ‘It wasn’t much dosh. Not enough to share. Anyway, I don’t want to speak badly of her. She was my mum and she’s dead, but you don’t know what she put me through, how she made me suffer. She never thought about me and what I might need. It was all about living healthy with her. And look where that got her.’

  Thinking about the letter their mother had left her, Geraldine understood that Helena had demanded money for drugs and their mother had refused. She didn’t ask any more questions, but waited to hear what else Helena would say. Her sister remained silent, staring at the table, perhaps lost in memories of their mother. At least she had her memories. All Geraldine had was one faded photograph, a letter asking Geraldine to take care of her sister, and the recollection of one brief meeting. It was not much.

  ‘What now, then?’ Helena asked when Geraldine had paid.

  Geraldine offered to give her sister a lift to a station. She was taken aback when Helena replied that she had nowhere to sleep that night. Geraldine explained that it wasn’t possible for her to put her sister up. Her flat was small, and she only had one bedroom. In reality, she had a perfectly serviceable second bedroom currently in use as a study and general store room for all sorts of junk. She even had a spare bed. There was no reason why Helena couldn’t sleep there, but Geraldine suspected if she allowed Helena to stay for even one night she would struggle to persuade her to leave. She felt uncomfortable about lying to her sister, but she had been forced into it.

  ‘I can drop you at a station if you like, but then I really do need to get back.’

  There was no sign of Helena when Geraldine left work that evening. She looked around carefully as she drove out through the barrier. In a way it was Geraldine’s own fault that Helena had been able to find her. There had been no pressing need for her to reveal that she was a detective inspector. She had volunteered the information in order to force her sister out of her car. With hindsight she regretted having said anything. Helena had been quick to make use of the knowledge. That was worrying enough. If Helena ever discovered where she lived, any chance of them gradually developing a relationship might be ruined.

  29

  On Sunday afternoon, Geraldine watched Chloe laughing and chattering, her cheeks pink and glowing, her eyes bright with excitement. Celia looked healthy too. The contrast between Geraldine’s two sisters was stark. She couldn’t imagine introducing her twin to Celia’s family. Unlike Geraldine, Celia had probably never encountered anyone like Helena. Besides, Celia had a lovely five-bedroomed detached house in Kent. She could hardly plead lack of space if Helena wanted to move in. Whatever happened, Geraldine resolved to keep the two strands of her family apart. They weren’t related. There was no reason why they should ever meet. Helena was already threatening to disturb Geraldine’s carefully constructed routine. She wouldn’t allow her to intrude on Celia’s life as well.

  After tea, Chloe disappeared upstairs.

  ‘She says she’s doing homework,’ Celia said, ‘but she’ll be on the phone, chatting with her friends half the night. She’ll only come off the phone for supper and then she’ll be up in her room again. She’ll still be at it when I go to bed. Every night I have to tell her to get off the phone and go to sleep.’

  ‘Give her a break. You remember what it was like to be a teenager.’

  ‘She’s not a teenager.’

  ‘No, but she will be soon. She’s just preparing herself, and you should too.’

  ‘Oh please don’t start giving me advice. I’m so sick of people telling me what to do all the time.’

  Geraldine frowned. ‘Who’s been telling you what to do?’

  ‘Oh, first the doctors were on at me, and then the midwife, and whatever they say, Sebastian fusses…’

  ‘Are you all right? Is there something wrong?’

  ‘I’m fine. At least I’ve stopped feeling sick all the time.’

  ‘You don’t sound fine. Are you sure you’re OK?’

  Celia sighed. ‘I’m just fed up with having to be so cheerful, telling everyone I’m fine, when all the time I’m feeling so knackered I could cry. And if I say the slightest thing to suggest I’m not OK, Sebastian tries to cart me off to the doctor. All he does is worry about me, and it’s driving me nuts. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m pregnant. It’s not an illness. But the way he carries on, you’d think I was suffering from a terminal disease. I’m sick of him fussing.’

  ‘You just need to rest.’

  ‘I know. You’re right. And I shouldn’t go on like this. All I ever seem to do is complain when I see you. I’m sorry, but there’s no one else I can talk to like this. You know that, don’t you? There’s no need for you to listen to me, really. You can go away and get on with your life, and forget everything I said. It’s not important. I’m just getting it off my chest.’

  Geraldine assured her she could talk to her any time she wanted. ‘That’s what sisters are for.’

  Celia smiled. ‘Thank you. You’re really good to me.’

  Geraldine gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I don’t think so. I’m hardly ever here, for a start.’

  That had once been true, but since Celia had fallen pregnant for the second time, Geraldine had been making an effort to visit her regularly.

  ‘That’s not true. I know how busy you are. You come here as often as you can, and I do appreciate it, really I do. Honestly, I couldn’t wish for a better sister. Don’t laugh. I mean it, Geraldine. Ever since mum died, you’ve been there for me.’

  As her only biological daughter, Celia had always been close to their mother whose death had affected her far more than Geraldine. Conscious of that, Geraldine had done her best to support Celia through her grieving. Now she was pregnant, once again Geraldine felt she should make some effort to visit her as often as she could.

  ‘You’re the best sister anyone could wish for,’ Celia insisted.

  Remembering Helena, Geraldine felt like crying.

  She didn’t stay for supper. Celia was tired, and Chloe was in her room. Pretending she had to get home to do some work before the end of the day, she left. The truth was, she was tired too.

  Arriving home she made some supper, and flicked through the television channels. A film title caught her eye, The Third Man. Even the television reminded her of Louise’s elusive kidnapper. She switched the television off and was about to stand up when her phone rang.

  Geraldine hadn’t said a word to anyone but Sam about her newly discovered twin sister. All afternoon she had struggled against the temptation to share the news. Normally quite emotional, Celia h
ad become more volatile than ever since she had become pregnant. In addition to that, she might resent sharing Geraldine with Helena who was not only Geraldine’s blood relative, but her twin. On balance it seemed sensible not to tell Celia about Helena, at least until after the baby was born. Having restrained herself from blurting her news out to Celia, Geraldine confided in Ian straight away.

  ‘I’m not sure I want anything to do with her. Is that very terrible of me?’

  ‘I don’t know what to say, Geraldine. I mean, she’s your sister.’

  ‘But we’re strangers all the same. I can’t just invite her to come and live with me. She…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, she smokes, for a start. And I suspect she’s a user. She certainly looks like one.’

  Ian was silent. She could imagine him frowning at the other end of the line.

  ‘I mean, I’d like to help her, of course I would. If I could get her into rehab, I’d do it like a shot. But I have to protect myself too. Is that wrong?’

  This time Ian’s reply was prompt. ‘No, of course not. And of course you can’t have her staying with you. Not if she’s an addict.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know that she is, but…’

  ‘Don’t go jumping to conclusions. Wasn’t that what you always used to tell me when I was a sergeant, back in Kent? Find the evidence first.’

  Geraldine thought about her sister’s skinny frame and bony fingers, and the marks she was almost certain she had spotted on her arm. It was a relief to let her guard down and tell Ian everything.

  ‘The thing is, I’m pretty sure I saw the marks, but she pulled her cardy back on again so quickly, I’m not a hundred per cent certain.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask her?’

  ‘What for? She’s not likely to tell me the truth, is she?’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘I do know.’

  ‘You’re making assumptions again.’

  ‘And anyway, I’m not sure I want to get involved with her.’

  If Helena was a heroin addict, the chances were that she would soon follow their mother to the grave. Geraldine knew she was selfishly seeking to protect her own feelings, but she couldn’t help thinking that the less she had to do with her sister, the better. Yet even as she was speaking, she knew she couldn’t turn her back on her.

  ‘Oh, bloody hell Ian, what am I saying? She needs help. I can’t very well refuse, can I? But I won’t take any responsibility for her situation or for what happens to her.’

  30

  When Geraldine drove to work on Monday morning she was annoyed to see Helena standing on the street outside the police compound. Pretending not to notice her, she drove through the barrier and went inside. Helena didn’t follow her. Geraldine doubted that would be the end of it. She should have been pleased that Helena wanted to have a relationship with her. Sooner or later, she would have to deal with her, but in the meantime, she needed to focus on finding Louise, and establishing whether Chris was guilty or not. Her own family problems would have to wait.

  About an hour after she arrived, she received a phone call from a solicitor contacting her about her mother’s will. It was an irritating interruption, but at the same time there was not much she could do to further the investigation. Teams of uniformed constables were out questioning Louise’s neighbours, family members, work colleagues and clients, looking for her. The search of Chris’s house was still ongoing. Other officers were studying CCTV film from the area where the bearded man’s car had disappeared. All Geraldine could do was wait for the results of all the searches.

  ‘We’d like to read the will later on this afternoon, if that’s convenient for you. I know it’s short notice, but the other beneficiary is impatient to get on with it.’

  Geraldine noted down the details. The sooner the matter was out of the way the better, as far as she was concerned. Once Helena was in possession of everything their mother had left, she might stop turning up outside the police station. In time they would hopefully establish a close relationship, meeting up regularly as sisters, but for now Geraldine wanted Helena to stop hounding her at work. She had considered giving her sister money, but was sure that however much she handed over, Helena wouldn’t be satisfied. If she was a user, as Geraldine suspected, all of Geraldine’s savings might be spent supporting her addiction, which would help neither of them.

  The lawyer’s office was in East London. Driving there, Geraldine regretted not having travelled by train. The traffic was dire. She was afraid she wouldn’t arrive in time, and reached her destination with only minutes to spare. Buzzed in, she ran up a narrow staircase between two shops and found the office on the second floor. A middle-aged woman ushered her into an inner room where Helena was already seated, waiting. The lighting in the room was bright. With the furrows on her forehead lit up, Helena looked older than her forty years. Drumming the fingers of one hand on her knee, she seemed nervous. She looked round when Geraldine entered but her eyes darted away again almost at once, as though she couldn’t bear to look at her. A young man in a suit was seated behind a desk, leafing through a folder. He looked up as Geraldine entered the room, his direct gaze contrasting with Helena’s jittery expression.

  ‘Ah, you must be Erin Blake?’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry to cut it so fine. The traffic was awful.’

  ‘Her name’s not even Erin,’ Helena interrupted. ‘She changed it.’

  ‘I was adopted,’ Geraldine explained, sitting down.

  ‘Yes, I see that,’ the lawyer said, glancing down at his papers. ‘And Helena remained with your mother.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Geraldine replied quietly. ‘The doctors didn’t expect her to survive for long. She wasn’t a strong baby.’

  ‘That’s crap,’ Helena said.

  The solicitor turned his attention to the will. Helena leaned forward as though that would help her concentration. But when it came to it, the terms of the will were simple. Milly Blake’s estate was to be split equally between her two daughters. Geraldine gazed around the cramped office. It was a very small room, dominated by the solicitor’s large wooden desk and a row of tall metal cabinets along one wall.

  ‘That’s a load of shit,’ Helena burst out. ‘Mum told me she was leaving it all to me. Everything. To me.’

  The solicitor raised his eyebrows. The will was perfectly clear. As the executor, he explained that he would oversee the division of the estate. As he continued talking, Helena turned to Geraldine, her eyes bitter.

  ‘She can have the lot,’ Geraldine interrupted the lawyer.

  ‘What?’

  ‘She can have everything.’

  ‘Erin, your sister is claiming that your mother promised to leave everything to her, but that contravenes the terms of the will which she drew up, and signed, while she was of sound mind. I understand your disappointment, Helena, but your mother’s wishes are clear. The estate is to be divided equally between you and your sister.’

  ‘I want Helena to have it all,’ Geraldine repeated firmly. ‘I hardly knew our mother. It’s only fair that Helena should have everything. That’s my decision. If you insist on splitting the estate, I’ll give my half to her anyway, so she might as well have it right away. I’m happy to sign any legal document you want to draw up to make this binding. Don’t worry,’ she added, turning to Helena, ‘I won’t change my mind.’ She looked at the solicitor again. ‘I never expected to inherit anything from my birth mother. Helena did. Let’s stick to what we both thought would happen. It’s fairer that way, and it will avoid any arguments.’

  ‘It’s my place to follow Milly Blake’s instructions.’

  Helena looked surly. ‘Well, it’s not like she’s going to know, is it?’

  The solicitor turned to Geraldine. ‘Are you sure?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sure. I won’t change my mind. And
now I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Please, do whatever you need to do. I’ll sign my half away whenever you send me the documents.’

  With Helena protesting that her sister couldn’t leave before the agreement had been signed, Geraldine hurried from the room. She hoped she hadn’t just precipitated Helena’s early death from an overdose.

  31

  Louise wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there. She had finished the large bottle of water, and eaten all the bread. She had tired herself out banging on the door and shouting at the window. At last, she had flung herself down on the bed where she lay for hours, drifting in and out of sleep. The masked man didn’t return for a long time.

  The room was dark. Only a strip of light was visible beneath the door, illuminating the frayed edge of the carpet. The hours and days since she had arrived had merged into each other in a blur, so she decided to start trying to keep track of the time. Marking off the days would help her to get through her ordeal. She had nothing to write with, but if she could find a nail or some sharp object, she would be able to scratch her arm on each new day. Starting in one corner, she searched the room but found nothing she could use. In the end, she resorted to scratching the soft skin inside her upper arm with the nail on her index finger. Having made a mark for the first day she counted, she pulled her sleeve down. Keeping it secret gave her a sense of control over her situation.

  Looking around the room again, she noticed the wallpaper was peeling away from the wall behind the bed. With a vague idea that she might record the days on paper, she knelt down and began picking at the edge. At first it came away quite easily. She pulled as gently and smoothly as she could, afraid of ripping it. After a moment, it tore off completely. As she stared at the scrap of paper, an idea struck her.

  As long as no one knew where she was, there was no chance she would be rescued. Her situation had seemed hopeless, but now she had some paper and an empty water bottle. She hadn’t yet worked out how she was going to write a message to send in a bottle, but it had to be possible. If she could break the window, she might be able to squeeze the plastic bottle between the metal bars and throw it down into the street. She would address it to DI Steel, the police inspector. While she was wondering what to say, and how to write it, she heard a door slam a long way off, and footsteps coming up the stairs. Hurriedly she folded her precious slip of paper and hid it in the pocket of her jeans.