‘Of course not,’ she said, her glance furtive.
Amy was not convinced. ‘It’s plans to plant evidence. Enough to put Lillian Grimes away for good.’ Saying it aloud made her sick to the core. Had Lillian been telling the truth all along?
Amy sealed the box shut, resting her arms on top of it as emotional and physical exhaustion rushed in. ‘Tell me straight, Mum. Is this Dad’s?’
Flora paled. ‘Those boxes have been up there for years. I don’t remember how that one got there.’
‘Why keep this stuff? Why not destroy it after she was jailed?’ She turned to Flora, eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure you weren’t in on this?’ She knew how ludicrous it sounded but had to ask just the same.
‘How can I be in on something when I don’t even know what it is!’ Flora’s voice raised an octave, her fists clenched.
Dotty snuffled, her head resting on Amy’s feet as she was awoken from her sleep. Absentmindedly, Amy reached down to comfort her, stroking her head. Dotty had been a present from her father, someone to keep her company at night. His kindness came in many forms, and he had touched the heart of almost everyone he met. She could not equate such a compassionate man with someone so readily capable of breaking the law. But how could she not when the evidence was staring her in the face?
She turned to face Flora. ‘The jury convicted Lillian because of forensic evidence and information leaked to the press. Without forensics, the evidence would have been circumstantial, she could have been set free.’
‘I . . . I don’t know how it got there,’ Flora said, twiddling with the belt on her dressing gown.
Amy set the box on the table, her expression grim. ‘I wish Dad were here to explain this mess.’
‘It’s that Lillian,’ Flora said. ‘She’s twisting everything, just like I said she would.’
‘I don’t like her any more than you do, but if she’s been set up for those murders . . .’ Amy could barely contemplate what she was about to say.
‘See?’ Flora snapped. ‘She does that – reels you in. Before you know it, you’re believing everything she says. That woman is a monster, and if she’s set free, she’ll kill again.’
Amy shook her head. ‘She’s a great-grandmother who’s spent half her life in prison. I can’t be a party to this.’
‘Surely you’re not serious?’ Flora said, grabbing her by the hand and squeezing hard. ‘Your father was a good man. If you go to the police, you’ll ruin his reputation.’
‘I am the police,’ Amy said, pulling back her hand. But Flora dug her nails in further, her eyes wide with conviction as she spoke.
‘And how do you think that came to be? Would you have got anywhere if they knew who you really were?’
‘I can’t believe you said that,’ Amy replied, a chilling smile on her lips. It was an expression she wore in the tensest of circumstances and often misconstrued by those she did not know.
Flora released her grip. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, Amy, I didn’t mean what I said.’
‘You meant it all right,’ Amy said, gathering the shoebox under her arm. ‘But don’t worry, I’m not going to stab you in your sleep.’
‘Where are you going?’ Flora said, panic lacing her words.
Amy paused at the door. ‘To my room. I need to work out how to break this to my DCI.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Amy pulled the loose thread hanging from her cuff. She had picked up the shirt from the dry cleaners, along with four identical ones the day before. She alternated the crisp white shirts with occasional bursts of colour to break the monotony. She was holding the shoebox under her arm: she would need it for what lay ahead. Today The Keepers of Truth Twitter feed simply said: #FindHermione #TwoDays #TickTock. The presence of a clock ticking downwards added a heightened sense of urgency to her tasks.
After raking through previous intel on them, she found they rarely carried out their threats. Yet their vagueness made her uneasy. Were they trying to avoid arrest or were they leading her up the garden path? She raised her knuckle to her DCI’s office door, delivering a gentle knock.
‘Thanks for seeing me at such short notice,’ she said, having rung ahead. Rising at six, she had showered and crept out long before her mother had awoken. Flora’s words about her being promoted had bitten deep, but it was not as distressing as the possibility of her father being involved in setting Lillian up. She was in way over her head. It was time to come clean. Taking a seat, she rested the box on her lap as she faced DCI Pike.
‘You’re more than welcome,’ Pike replied, her eyes flicking to the shoebox on her lap. ‘Fancy the gym tomorrow? I’ve been a bit slack this week.’
‘Sure,’ Amy said, feeling breathless as she prepared to confess. What she was about to say would change everything. How would her colleagues react? If she were to preach about honesty, she would have to start with herself. She took a deep breath. Her intestines felt twisted in knots. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t been totally honest with you.’
A flicker of concern crossed Pike’s face. ‘Go on.’
‘I should have come to you straight away.’ Reaching into her jacket pocket, Amy pulled out the letter that had started it all. She pushed it across the desk by means of explanation.
Pike’s eyes moved from left to right as she read Lillian’s writing. She paused, her lips parting as she inhaled suddenly. Amy knew exactly which bit she was reading because she knew the words off by heart. I am your birth mother. The person who gave you life.
After what felt like a lifetime, Pike returned her gaze to Amy. Her features had tightened, and she looked far from amused. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’
‘No ma’am, it’s not,’ Amy replied, shrinking in her seat. ‘I was adopted. Jack and Lillian Grimes are my biological parents.’
Returning the letter, Pike held her with a gaze. Amy refused to look away. ‘Is this why she told you about the bodies? The real reason she wanted to see you in private?’
Amy nodded.
‘Then why didn’t you come to me the second you found out?’
Amy folded the letter before sliding it back into her pocket. ‘I was shocked, ashamed . . . in denial,’ she said truthfully. ‘Everyone was so pleased about finding the burial sites. I didn’t want to ruin it. Then the longer I left it, the harder it became. I couldn’t bear for my colleagues to associate me with those people. I’m nothing like them.’
‘I can’t believe Robert didn’t tell me,’ Pike said, leaning on her elbows as she clasped her hands together.
Amy’s features creased in a frown. If she didn’t know better, she would think that Pike was hurt. What business was it of hers? Her gaze fell on the shoebox sitting on Pike’s desk waiting to be opened. But Pike’s eyes were still firmly fixed on Amy, gluing her to her chair. Things were about to get a whole lot worse.
‘I’m afraid that’s not all.’ Slipping a pair of latex gloves from her pocket, Amy pulled one on before opening the lid of the box. ‘You might want to wear this,’ she said, resting the other glove on the desk as she nodded towards the box. ‘I found this in the loft at home. It’s evidence crucial to Lillian Grimes’s case.’
‘Evidence?’ Pike said, making little movement. ‘What sort of evidence?’
It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the office. Amy inhaled a breath to deliver the next revelation. ‘Lillian claims she’s been set up. In exchange for helping prove her innocence, she’s promised to give me something in return.’
‘Hang on,’ Pike replied, her mouth downturned. ‘You’re saying you’ve found evidence in your parents’ loft?’
‘Lillian believes DNA evidence was planted to send her down.’ The words sent a chill down Amy’s spine. How different everything would have been had Lillian been freed. As awful as it sounded, her life now was far better than the alternative.
‘And this is the evidence?’ Pike pointed towards the box. In its bright-red covering, it felt like a bomb about to explode. She had yet t
o look inside, which seemed bizarre.
‘Mum swears she has no knowledge of it, which means Dad must have been involved.’ Amy’s forehead creased. ‘There are copies of case files, notes . . . I don’t want to believe it, but how else did it get in our loft?’
‘You’re suggesting that Robert Winter planted this evidence to incarcerate Lillian Grimes?’
Amy nodded, feeling as if she was on trial. Suddenly everything felt formal, their friendship evaporating into thin air.
‘Do you know what would happen if this came out?’
Amy looked from the box back to her senior officer, confusion crossing her face. Surely it was a matter of when not if? ‘I don’t understand. This is evidence . . .’
‘Evidence that would ruin your father’s reputation.’ Pike leaned across the table and fixed Amy with a glare. ‘Robert was a good man. I, for one, don’t believe he was capable of such a thing. It’s a terrible shame that you don’t afford him the same loyalty.’
‘But we can’t just say nothing. Lillian knows she’s been framed . . .’
‘When did we start dealing with terrorists? Because that’s what this woman is: a person capable of inflicting terror on innocent women and children. I know she’s your mother, but have you any idea what she’s done?’
‘She’s not my mother.’ Amy’s voice raised an octave. ‘She disgusts me.’ In the corridor, her superintendent’s voice carried loudly as he chatted on the phone. Amy took a calming breath as she reminded herself where she was. Pike’s floor housed only senior officers – many of whom knew her father.
‘Have you told anyone else?’ Pike said, waiting until he had passed.
‘Only my mother.’
‘You mean Flora? I take it she’s not keen to drag Robert’s good name through the mud?’
‘No,’ Amy said, feeling as if she had been punched in the gut.
‘Then you need to decide where your loyalties lie. If you’ve any sense, you’ll put this back where you found it and forget we ever had this conversation.’ A pause. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not suggesting you conceal evidence, I’m telling you you’re wrong.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ Amy said, nodding towards the shoebox. ‘You’ve not even looked.’
‘I don’t need to,’ Pike replied, her eyes alight with conviction. ‘I knew Robert. He was a good man who made many sacrifices to keep you in a happy and secure home. More than you can imagine. He . . . he . . .’ She dropped her gaze, her eyes filling with tears. As her DCI’s emotions were laid bare, Amy was hit by the truth.
‘Oh my god,’ she said, her hand raised to her mouth. ‘You loved him, didn’t you?’ Amy remembered a period in her father’s life when Pike was constantly demanding his attention. Then there was the time he had told her off for calling him at home. Working out of the same station, they were bound to be in close contact, but their friendship went way beyond that. Why hadn’t she picked up on it before?
‘Now you listen to me.’ Pike jabbed the air with her forefinger. ‘Go home, put that box where you found it, and we won’t say another word.’
‘She’s promised me Hermione Parker’s location if I clear her name.’
‘Clear Lillian Grimes?’ Pike barked a harsh laugh. ‘Don’t be so stupid. You’ve got more chance of making her Pope.’
Amy shook her head in disbelief. ‘All those questions you asked me about my family life. You were pumping me for information all along.’ Amy rose, snatching the box from her desk. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say anything about you and Dad. I’ve had enough revelations to last me a lifetime.’
Pike stood, her knuckles white as she rested them on her desk. Her response told Amy she was crossing the line. ‘Go home. Put the box back. We’ll discuss Hermione when you’ve calmed down.’
Like hell, Amy thought. Scooping the box under her arm she turned and strode out the door.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
‘All right, all right, keep your hair on!’ Dougie’s voice rose from behind the front door. He was slightly out of breath as he opened it, no doubt from the exertion of manoeuvring his wheelchair at such a pace.
‘Sorry,’ Amy said, looking forlorn. ‘I need to talk, and I don’t know where else to go.’ She clung to the red shoebox as if it contained untold wealth instead of the secrets and lies held within.
Dougie’s eyes fell on the box and back to Amy. Without wasting another moment, he invited her inside. Regardless of the early hour he was freshly shaved and wearing clean pressed clothes. Amy had never seen him any other way.
‘Sit down. Can I get you a drink?’ Dougie said, positioning his wheelchair next to the sofa where Amy usually sat. Picking up the remote, he muted the breakfast TV that was on.
‘No thanks,’ Amy replied. ‘It’s a flying visit. I’ve got to get back to work.’
‘You’re shaking.’ Dougie’s eyebrows knotted in concern. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know where to start.’ Holding the box on her lap, she tried to regain her composure. She knew she could not go home and hide the evidence away. Her DCI was wrong. She took a deep breath as she tried to explain. ‘I should have known I couldn’t just walk away from Lillian. She has something else up her sleeve.’
‘That woman always does.’ Dougie’s words were carried on a sigh. ‘I take it she’s upset you?’
‘Indirectly. She claims she’s innocent . . . I believe her.’
‘You mustn’t,’ Dougie said. ‘She’s no stranger to twisting the truth.’
‘Neither is my dad, so it seems,’ Amy replied listlessly. She rested the box on the coffee table before them. Like Pike, Dougie seemed reluctant to touch it.
‘I found this in the loft.’ She tipped her head towards the box. Seconds passed, but Dougie did not speak. Slowly, Amy lifted the lid and moved it forward in his direction.
Dougie peered inside before sitting back in his chair. ‘What is it?’
‘Evidence Lillian Grimes was set up for murder. She was telling the truth.’
‘And you think your father was involved? Robert would never do that.’ Dougie’s words were firm.
‘That’s what DCI Pike said,’ Amy replied. ‘I’d be inclined to believe her if I hadn’t found it in our loft.’
‘You went to Pike with this?’
Amy nodded. ‘She wouldn’t look in the box, never mind acknowledge what I said. Did you know she had an affair with my dad?’
Dougie sighed heavily. ‘Oh, Amy, it’s not what you think.’
‘Does everyone at the station know?’ She felt sick at the thought.
‘Not at all. It happened just once, and he regretted it straight away. It was Pike that kept pushing for more. She was obsessed. Wouldn’t leave him alone.’
‘And here was me thinking I earned my promotion.’ Amy laughed without humour as her world tumbled down. ‘She told me to get rid of the evidence, can you believe that? I loved my father, he was good to me. But I need to get to the bottom of this.’ Amy stared at her feet as she turned things over in her mind. ‘I don’t get why he held on to it though, Dad would never have . . .’ She trailed off as a piece of the puzzle fell into place. ‘Unless it was someone else.’ The overheard phone call. Her mother stressing over a secret. What if she finds it? She glanced at Dougie’s feet. They were several sizes bigger than her father’s size seven. Her gaze flickered to the side of the shoebox with its size eleven label before meeting Dougie’s eyes.
‘It wasn’t your dad that planted the evidence . . .’ He looked at her longingly, as if sensing her judgement. She knew exactly how he felt.
‘Oh, Dougie,’ Amy said, because she had worked it out for herself. ‘What have you done?’
‘This house is so much smaller than my last one.’ He glanced up at the ceiling, as if invoking old memories. ‘After I moved in, your dad offered to store some of my stuff in his loft. Just bric-a-brac mainly, sentimental stuff I couldn’t bear to throw away.’
Amy could imagine it. Another ex
ample of her father’s kindness towards an old friend. ‘Weren’t you afraid he’d find the shoebox?’
‘I was counting on it,’ Dougie said. ‘I didn’t have the courage to tell him straight out. But my guilt was mounting. I left it in the lap of the gods.’
‘Why hold onto it all these years?’
‘Because I knew deep down I was wrong,’ Dougie said wearily. ‘I waited, and nothing happened. Then one day Flora called. I thought she was ready to blow the whistle, but she came to thank me instead.’
‘She kept your secret,’ Amy replied.
‘Yes, and I’d do it again if I had to. I’d bet anything Lillian encouraged Jack to rape those girls.’ His face soured at the thought. ‘She’s monstrous, grotesque. She deserves the electric chair.’
‘How did you do it?’ Amy said, steering him from his anger.
‘I didn’t expect to get away with it at first.’ Dougie shifted in his chair. ‘It wasn’t even that hard. I snagged a few threads from her cardigan when I was at the house for the search. Things were different then, we weren’t as conscientious about forensics and cross-contamination for a start. Then I found a hairbrush in her bedroom and took some of her jewellery. I planted bits of evidence in the burial sites. When I got home, I made notes.’
‘And you leaked the story to the press?’
‘People needed to know what kind of monsters they were.’
‘Couldn’t you have trusted the justice system?’
Dougie tutted under his breath. ‘Where was justice when those poor girls were being raped and tortured? Do you really want me to tell you what they did?’
Amy shook her head. She had skimmed the finer details in the case files, unwilling to take it in. On the television, a muted presenter was discussing autumn wear. How simple some people’s lives were, Amy thought, when all they had to worry about was whether to wear green or brown. ‘Lillian promised to tell me where Hermione Parker is if I help her with an appeal. I’ll go back to Pike, insist that she listen. There must be a way around this, without any more people getting hurt.’
Truth and Lies (A DI Amy Winter Thriller Book 1) Page 23
