The Truth: sequel to I Will Find You

by Catherine Lambert

  “Phone the police now Marney,” Lydia glanced over shoulder towards her sister.

  “Don’t do that Marney,” he threatened.

  “Do it, phone them now,” Lydia raised her voice.

  With the phone in her hand, Marney deliberated as the intruder rushed forward, pushed Lydia to the floor and snatched the phone from her. Marney let out a cry of fear and stumbled backwards. Steadying herself against the wall she scrambled clumsily to her feet and rushed to her sister’s side.

  “I will phone the police, you’ve got no proof of what you claim, and I’ll tell them you broke in,” she threatened.

  “Oh, I have proof Lydia, and you don’t have a phone,” he shook his head and smirked.

  “I have photographs of your car outside the Trans-Star warehouse on the day Daniel Gerrity died,” he continued, his facial expression now stern and threatening causing Lydia to take a step backwards.

  “That’s not proof; anyone could have taken my car,” she argued feeling her anxiety increasing by the minute.

  “I also have other photos of you dashing out of the exit, and getting into that same car,” he continued to inch forward causing her to back away.

  “They could have been taken anywhere; it’s only your word that they were taken at the warehouse where Dan died.”

  He was thoughtful for a while before replying.

  “My trump card is the photo of Gerrity’s dead body on that filthy warehouse floor,” he sniggered.

  Marney clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry of horror over the sordid details of Dan’s death. The raised voices caused Heidi to cry loudly and Marney instinctively turned around to comfort her. In an instance, the intruder pushed Lydia into a chair and turned to Marney.

  “Sit down now, and shut the brat up or I will,” he threatened through gritted rotten teeth. Cradling her whimpering child, Marney took a seat next to her sister and squeezed her trembling hand. Placing Marney’s phone out of her reach, the young man sat opposite the sisters.

  “Now let’s stop playing games ladies. You killed Daniel Gerrity Lydia, I have proof. You pay me what I asked for in the letter and the evidence will disappear.”

  “We haven’t seen any proof, and you broke into our café,” Lydia found the courage to contest him.

  Taking his phone from a filthy threadbare pocket, he scrolled down the menu and clicked onto a photograph. While his attention was diverted, Lydia slipped an outreached hand into her bag and retrieved the knife she had hidden.

  “Evidence one,” he held up his phone, “Lydia arriving at the Trans-Star warehouse glancing furtively in all directions. Evidence two, Number plate of her car as she walks towards the entrance. Evidence three, and don’t look if you’re skirmish Marney, Gerrity’s dead body, and Lydia hurriedly leaving the premises. There’s enough evidence here to get you a life sentence,” he leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself.

  “What’s your name,” Marney leaned forward and glared at him.

  “Guy, my name’s Guy,” he smirked.

  “There’s something familiar about you,” she narrowed her eyes and studied his face.

  “I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to realise” he replied holding her stare.

  “Who are you?” she demanded to know.

  “Enough questions, I need that money, or I go to the police,” he leapt to his feet and began pacing around.

  Lydia rose slowly to her feet, her expression stern and fixed and the knife pointing dangerously close to his body.

  “Get out of my café now,” her voice resounded through the small room causing Guy to stop suddenly and turn to face her irate expression and the knife fixed firmly in her hand.

  “Put the knife down Lydia,” he spoke slowly and calmly as he stepped backwards.

  “Phone the police now sis,” Lydia grabbed Marney’s mobile from the table and held it out to her.

  “What shall I say?” she hesitated and smiled weakly.

  “I thought that was bloody obvious sis,” Lydia replied impatiently.

  “He’s got evidence on his phone,” she faltered.

  “Take the SIM card out and destroy it,” she ordered.

  “I’ve made copies,” Guy threatened.

  “Just do it,” Lydia ignored him.

  Taking the SIM card from the phone, Marney took off one of her shoes and smashed the phone repeatedly with the heel until it shattered into small pieces that scattered across the tiled floor.

  “That was fun,” she looked up at Lydia and smiled. “I’ll get a brush and pan and clear it up.”

  “Give me the SIM card,” Lydia said keeping her eye fixed on the intruder.

  “That cost me £200,” Guy muttered under his breathe.

  “Perhaps you should have spent some money on new clothes and deodorant,” Marney scoffed as she swept the shattered phone into the pan.

  “You can call the police now sis, and tell them someone has broken in; oh, and switch the deep fat fryer on please,” she called over her shoulder.

  “What?” Marney looked up from her phone.

  “The fryer, can you switch it on?”

  “Why?”

  “Never mind I’ll do it myself. Stay here until I come back and don’t let him out of your sight,” she passed the knife to Marney and strode into the kitchen.

  “Let me go Marney,” Guy pleaded.

  “How do you know our names?” she ignored his plea.

  “Please just let me go before Lydia comes back,” his eyes darted from her to the kitchen door as he pleaded desperately.

  “Tell me who you are?” she ignored his peas.

  “My cousin is Ewan Phillips,” he replied with a snide grin.

  Taking a step closer, with the knife held closely to his throat she spoke.

  “You know I’m not going to do that,” Marney said as her sister came back into the café and took a seat.

  “What’s going on; have you phoned the police?” Lydia asked.

  “Not yet sis, Guy was just telling me about his cousin Ewan Philips,” she bit her lip and breathed deeply.

  “What?”

  “He’s his cousin, I knew he looked familiar. I ought to just stick this knife in your throat now,” Marney continued to inch forward as Guy slowly moved towards the wall.

  “I know you’re upset Marney, but don’t do anything foolish. Let the police deal with him. I’ll phone them.” Lydia took her phone from her bag and punched in 999.

  “Just give me some money and I’ll never bother you again.” Guy lunged forward and snatched the knife from Marney’s hand causing her to stumble backwards where she collided with a chair. Struggling to maintain her balance, she reached out to steady herself and grabbed the back of Guy’s jacket sending them tumbling to the floor. Marney landed on top of Guy’s back grazing her head on the corner of a chair as she fell. Rooted to the spot, Lydia looked on in horror.

  “Help me up Lydia,” her sister yelled.

  Helping Marney to her feet, Lydia panicked at the sight of blood oozing from beneath him. Backing away in terror with her hands cupped to her face, she began to shake her head and mutter inaudibly.

  “It’s happened again,” she sobbed staring vacantly at the wall, her mind and body oblivious to her sister’s cries.

  “Lydia, Lydia,” Marney was by her side shaking her arm.

  As if woken from a trance, she turned her head and stared at her sister.

  “Get a grip Lydia,” her voice was stern and impatient.

  “Is he, his he,”

  “No he isn’t, but I need you to help me sis,” she grasped her arm.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Lydia turned to look at Guy who was bleeding from a knife wound in his abdomen.

  “An ambulance and the police are on the way, we need to get our story straight.”

  “The police, are you insane?” Lydia interrupted her

  “We don’t have much time Lyds please listen to me. We’ll say he broke in grabbed a
knife and demanded money,” she paused and looked up as a siren sounded outside.

  “Oh shit, the ambulance is here. Leave the talking to me Lydia,”

  Dashing to open the door, Marney led the two paramedics to where Guy was lying.

  “I’m Matt and this is my colleague Pete,” he knelt beside Guy.

  “I’m Marney, and that’s my sister Lydia,” she pointed to where she was sitting.

  “Take a seat with your sister Marney while we assess your friend,” Matt instructed her.

  “He’s not a friend,” she replied firmly.

  The police arrived as Guy was stretchered to the awaiting ambulance. One of the paramedics spoke to them before they left, but Marney could not hear what was being said.

  Rising to her feet, she approached one of the officers.

  “Marney Stephens?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you alright?” he asked noticing the cut on the side of her forehead.

  “I’m fine, it’s just a graze.”

  “And you are?” he stared at Lydia.

  “Lydia Nevin I mean Stephens, we’re sisters,” she replied feeling stupid for stating the obvious.

  “Which one? Nevin or Stephens.

  “Technically, I’m Lydia Stephens, but I still use my married name. I’ll be Nevin again shortly though,” she smiled awkwardly.

  “Do you mind if we take a seat?” one of them asked.

  “No,” Marney replied bluntly, then turned to where Heidi was asleep in her pushchair and pulled a blanket over her legs.

  “My name is D.C. John Scott, and this is my colleague is P.C. Phil Blakemore,” he addressed Marney.

  “We’ve met before,” she replied flatly.

  “Right, how long is this going to take, I need to get my daughter home,” she re-took her seat next to Lydia.

  “The sooner we get started Miss Stephens, the sooner we can all go home,” D.C. Scott took a seat as his colleague took a notebook notes from his breast pocket.

  Intimidated by his remark, Marney remained silent but throw Lydia a knowing glance.

  “Now Miss Stephens, if you’d like to tell us in your own words exactly what happened to Guy Phillips after he entered these premises,” his maintained eye contact with Marney who sat bolt upright in her seat. Leaning forward she spoke to Scott.

  “Phillips, you said Guy Phillips. How do you know his name?” her words were edged with fear.

  “He’s known to us, a petty criminal with a drug problem, he’s currently on bail. Now if you’d like to continue,” he prompted her.

  “O.K., now can you tell us what happened earlier?”

  “Yes of course. We came here this morning to collect the post and

  “Who did you come to this café with?” he interrupted her.

  “My sister Lydia and my daughter.”

  “What time was this?” he continued.

  Becoming slightly irritated by his intrusions she replied impatiently.

  “Mid-morning, I can’t be certain. Lydia picked up the post and we sat over there,” she pointed to the corner table.

  “A few minutes later, we saw someone outside and I went to see who it was. As I opened the door Guy Phillips pushed it with his shoulder and threatened me,” she paused.

  “What did he say?” D.C. Scott asked.

  “I can’t remember exactly, I was scared. He wanted money, he said he would leave us alone if we gave him two thousand pounds. We don’t have that amount of money, but he wouldn’t listen. He threatened to hurt my daughter,” Marney dabbed her eyes with a tissue and began to cry. Her actions procured the desired effect as Lydia rushed to her side.

  “Will this take much longer; my sister is in no state to continue?” she turned to D.C. Scott.

  “It would be better to continue while the events are still fresh in her mind,” he hesitated.

  “There isn’t much more to say. He grabbed a knife from the cutlery trolley and repeated his demand for money. Marney threatened to call the police, he rushed at her and she stumbled over that chair,” she pointed to the overturned chair willing her eyes not to look at the waste paper bin where the smashed remains of Guy Phillips phone lay inside.

  “Marney grabbed his jacket to steady her fall, and they both fell to the floor. She landed on top of him. He must have fallen onto the knife,” she looked up at him and studied his facial expression which was fixed and unemotional.

  “Can you tell me exactly where you were in the room when the intruder attacked you,” he turned to Marney who was beginning to feel anxious.

  “My sister has just told you, we were by the chair over there,” she pointed as she glanced nervously in Lydia’s direction.

  “And Mr. Phillips was where exactly?” he raised his eyebrows and peered over his spectacles.

  Marney was not expecting this question and her hesitation portrayed her anxiety.

  “I, I’m not sure, he was close to the table, that’s all I can remember,” she faltered.

  “So where did he get the knife from?” he continued to fire questions at her.

  Struggling to control her composure, Marney began to cry again.

  “From the cutlery tray over there,” her voice quivered as she sank down into a chair where Lydia placed her arm around her shoulders.

  “That’s about two meters away from where he was standing, wouldn’t you say?” he glanced at Lydia.

  “I suppose it is; what is it you’re trying to say?” she remained composed.

  “You were closer to the cutlery tray; didn’t you try to stop him?”

  “It happened so quickly, we didn’t have time to react,” she maintained eye contact.

  “Do you have C.C.T.V. in here?” he glanced around.

  Lydia answered the question.

  “No we don’t; I have been meaning to have in installed, but business is a bit slow at the moment,” she looked up at him.

  “O.K. You’ll both need to come to the station to make a statement, but we have enough to work on for the time being,” he closed his notebook and stood up.

  “Is that it?” Marney asked.

  “For now; we’ll have to see how to Mr. Phillips progresses and hear his version of events.”

  “So, are you saying you don’t believe us?”

  “No, not at all its normal procedure, we need information from all persons involved.”

  “We need to take a look around and seal the premises. We’ll let you know when we’ve finished.”

  “How long will all this take?” Marney asked as three more police officers entered the café.

  “It’s hard to say,” he glanced around.

  “Have you touched anything?” his questions continued.

  “No,” Marney replied firmly.

  “If you’d like to collect your personal belongings and follow me,” he walked towards the door and spoke quietly to one of the police officers.

  “Do you think he believed us?” Marney whispered when he was out of ear-shot.

  “We’ve told the truth; come on let’s get out of here,” Lydia picked up her bag and pushed Heidi towards the front door where D.C. Scott was waiting.

  “You’ll both need to make statements as soon as possible,” he reiterated his request.

  “We’ll come tomorrow; can we go now?” Lydia asked impatiently.

  “Of course.”

  She pushed open the door and stepped outside as Marney followed closely behind.

  “Get in the car and don’t look back” Lydia tugged her sister’s arm.

  “Ow, that hurt,” she rubbed her forearm.

  “Sorry, just get in the car Marney,” she looked up towards the café where D.C. Scott was watching them from the doorway of the café.

  Forcing Heidi’s pushchair into the limited space of the boot, Lydia slammed it shut and hurried to the front of the car. Turning the key in the ignition, she glanced in the mirror to see Scott still watching her every move.

  “He’s still bloody watching us,
” she bit her lip and glanced in the mirror at Marney.

  “Chill out sis, we’re in the clear,” she smiled.

  “Chill out? Do you know how close you came to stabbing him?”

  “Well I didn’t, but he was goading me. He knew what his cousin had done to me and he smirked.”

  She glared in the mirror at her sister’s strained expression.

  “I know I’m sorry Marney, it must have been hard for you,” she softened her tone.

  “If they find Guy Phillips phone, we’ll be in trouble.” Her voice trailed off as she approached a zebra crossing where she brought the car to a halt and watched as a stream of young school children dressed in maroon blazers, trooped two by two across the road. Time stood still as Lydia gazed at the two little boys who turned to look at her. One of them smiled and waved, and in that instance Adam’s face flashed before her. Still transfixed by his face, she was oblivious to the sound of frustrated motorists blaring their horns behind her.

  “What’s wrong Lyds?” The panic in Marney’s voice brought her back to reality and she pressed hard on the accelerator and sped away.

  “Slow down sis, you’re going too fast,” Marney gripped the edge of her seat as Lydia turned into the drive and brought the car to a halt.

  “What did you do with the phone?” Lydia turned to look at her sister who was struggling to release the harness on Heidi’s car seat.

  Marney paused and smiled before opening her handbag.

  “Here it is,” she raised her eyebrows as Lydia glanced inside at the shattered pieces of the plastic.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she took the keys from the ignition and opened the driver’s door. Marney took Heidi from her seat and followed her sister into the house where another dilemma was about to unfold.

  CHAPTER TWENTy- ONE

  As Lydia stepped into the hall, the land-line rang. She dropped her keys on the table and answered the call. A woman’s voice spoke to her, and she passed the receiver to Marney.