The Secret

by Debbie Howells

  It can’t go on.

  *

  The following day, I’m in the garden pruning back last year’s growth on the roses that ramble along the wall, enjoying a fragile sense of peace that’s long been absent from my life, when DS May and Sergeant Collins arrive. As DS May walks across the garden towards me, I pull off my gardening gloves.

  ‘I’m sorry for turning up like this.’ DS May looks apologetic. ‘Do you have a moment? I wanted to talk to you about Stephanie Hampton.’

  ‘Will it take long?’ I glance at my watch. ‘It’s just that I have an appointment in an hour’s time.’

  ‘We just need to run through a couple of things.’ When DS May doesn’t offer to come back another time, my heart sinks.

  I nod. ‘You’d better come in.’

  At the back door, I pull off my boots and leave them outside. The kitchen isn’t as tidy as it usually is, with unironed clothes piled on the table and this morning’s breakfast dishes yet to be cleared. ‘I’m a bit behind. But sit down.’ I move the pile of washing onto the sofa, stacking the remaining plates and carrying them over to the sink before joining the two policewomen at the kitchen table.

  DS May’s notebook is already switched on. ‘You saw Mrs Hampton very recently didn’t you? In fact, you were one of the last people to see her alive. I wanted to ask how she seemed to you.’

  ‘Stephanie?’ Given the events that have happened, it seems weeks rather than days since I saw her. ‘She was grieving for Hollie. And she was worried about James.’

  ‘Did she say anything to suggest she was thinking of killing herself?’

  ‘No.’ I look at her sharply. ‘She told me that after she’d spoken to you, she was going away. Somewhere far away from here – I think that’s what she said.’

  DS May frowns at me. ‘She didn’t imply anything more sinister?’

  ‘No.’ The suggestion that Stephanie would take her own life shocks me. ‘You don’t think …’ I tail off.

  ‘We found a letter in her salon. It’s almost certain she planned to take her own life. Whether the crash was an accident, we don’t know.’

  Shocked, I try to take in what DS May is saying. ‘I suppose it’s easy to interpret her words completely differently now. I was on a flight to Rome the day she died. I was actually thinking of her just before I checked my phone and picked up a message from Andrew, telling me she’d died.’

  ‘Your husband was her doctor.’

  I nod. ‘Yes. To be honest, he’s doctor to half the village. His practice is the only one between here and Chichester.’ Then I look at her more closely, suddenly aware there’s something she isn’t saying. ‘Why do you ask?’

  As DS May’s eyes meet Sergeant Collins’s, I realise they know about Andrew and Stephanie. Folding my arms, I sit back, watching them. ‘Go on.’

  ‘This is a little awkward.’ DS May looks uncomfortable. ‘But we have evidence that suggests that your husband and Mrs Hampton were intimate.’

  As another layer of dignity is stripped away, I shrug. ‘So it would seem. I may as well ask, who told you?’

  ‘No-one. There were text messages on her phone – they made it quite clear what their relationship was. But you knew?’

  I feel slightly sick. ‘I’ve only just found out. I worked it out after Stephanie died.’ When they look surprised, I add, ‘Oh, I knew he was having an affair – just not who with. Andrew’s had several affairs. I tolerate them.’

  DS May’s face is blank. ‘Plenty of women turn a blind eye to their husband’s infidelity. But considering Mrs Hampton had confided in you, you must have been shocked.’

  ‘She told me I didn’t know how lucky I was.’ I shake my head. ‘I think she loved James, but he’d screwed things up between them. Maybe she needed someone more solid – like her good old, reliable doctor.’ Even I can’t believe I’m defending the woman who was sleeping with my husband.

  DS May looks at me oddly. ‘You were OK with that?’

  ‘Absolutely not. Don’t try to understand my marriage, Detective Sergeant. It really doesn’t bear scrutiny. I stay for one reason only. My daughter.’

  ‘Why can’t you leave him?’ She makes no attempt to hide the genuine curiosity in her eyes. ‘You’re an independent woman. If you separated, half the proceeds from selling this house would buy you a lovely cottage, even around here. Children are often better off with divorced parents, rather than stuck in the middle of a war zone.’

  ‘You have no idea what goes on here.’ My response is too sharp. ‘Anyway, Andrew would destroy me.’ Watching their faces, I try to explain. ‘He likes the image. This house.’ I gesture around the large proportions of the kitchen. ‘His daughter, the private school she goes to … The fact that we’re together, when so many marriages flounder. Status is important to Andrew. He’s a doctor and it’s important that his patients believe in him.’ It’s about control, too, but I don’t tell them that.

  From their expressions, I know I’ve painted enough of a picture for them to understand how he is. Then I add carefully, ‘None of us know how it is to be someone else, so I don’t believe any of us should judge.’ I’m thinking of Stephanie, obviously, but myself, too. Still watching them, I lean back in my chair again.

  ‘Do you think Hollie knew what was going on between your husband and her stepmother?’

  I’m silent for a moment, wondering if they think Andrew is a suspect. ‘It’s possible. Andrew told me she set him up at the surgery. Accused him of touching her inappropriately. He said she had a crush that he didn’t reciprocate, which I find impossible to believe. It would make more sense for her to have been angry with him about something.’

  DS May looks puzzled. ‘But why would he invent something like that?’

  ‘His ego,’ I say briefly. ‘Or perhaps, for reasons of his own, he wanted to convince people that Hollie was unstable and irrational.’

  She shakes her head slowly. ‘But why? Why would he want people to think of her like that?’

  I shrug. ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Did your husband say if James Hampton knew about his affair with Mrs Hampton?’

  ‘No, but it’s possible.’ My frown deepens. ‘It would explain the way James looked at him in the churchyard.’ I catch sight of the clock, getting to my feet in a hurry. ‘I’m sorry, but if there isn’t anything else, I have an appointment to get to.’

  *

  After they drive away, I tidy the kitchen and get ready to go out. Thinking about where I’m going, it seems fitting that the blue skies of earlier are clouding over, that the sunlight has gone; that a minute later, it starts to rain.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jo

  Elise Buckley’s revelations about her husband throw up more questions for which there are no answers. His medical practice confirms there was an incident with Hollie and that there had been a note on her file about mental health issues and a suggested referral, which was never followed up.

  I try to think. By her own admission, the Buckleys’ marriage has problems, backed up by the fact that the husband was having an affair. Not the first, either. As doctor to most of the village, Andrew Buckley has a window into everyone’s lives. But it isn’t just Elise who’s told me what he can be like. Ida Jones had suggested the same.

  My instincts are telling me not to trust him. If Hollie knew about Stephanie’s affair with Andrew Buckley, it gives him a motive. And if she’d confronted him about it, who knows what may have happened.

  The pool where Hollie was found in the grounds of Park House isn’t far from the Buckleys’ house. Clicking on my laptop, I bring up a map of the village, noticing for the first time that Park House, the Buckleys’ house, and Phil Mason’s, while physically separated by stone walls and tall trees, form the three corners of a triangle.

  *

  In the aftermath of Stephanie Hampton’s death, we question her husband. With both his wife and daughter dead, James is broken. Even so, on the subject of Phil Mason, he remains fr
ustratingly silent.

  When we take a break in the DI’s office, I explain where we’re at. ‘I think he’s frightened, sir,’ I tell him. ‘Either that, or he’s hoping we don’t have anything concrete on him.’

  ‘Then we need to make him see how misguided that notion is, don’t we?’ he says impatiently. ‘What about Mason’s house? Any luck?’

  ‘Apparently, it’s locked up, sir, the curtains and blinds drawn. It looks as though he’s gone away.’

  ‘Try and find out where he is. We need to speak to him.’ The DI sounds frustrated. ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘Twelve, sir.’

  ‘Right. We’ll question Hampton together this afternoon.’

  *

  When we go into the interview room, James Hampton barely looks up from where he’s slumped at the table. Beside him, his lawyer’s face is blank. I pull out a chair. ‘This is DI Saunders, Mr Hampton. We have a few more questions for you.’

  The DI clears his throat. ‘I understand you bought into a business through Philip Mason. Is that correct?’

  The lawyer looks mildly irritated. ‘My client has already confirmed this to your colleague, just as he’s confirmed he had no idea what he was getting into.’

  ‘I see.’ The DI leans back in his chair. ‘Didn’t know it was porn, is that what you’re saying, Mr Hampton?’

  When James Hampton shakes his head, the DI says, ‘Answer yes or no for the tape, Mr Hampton.’

  At Hampton’s muttered ‘no’, I glance at his lawyer.

  ‘You’re already facing potential charges of the possession and distribution of pornographic images of children. Lying isn’t going to look good when you go to court. Nor is the fact that you’re perverting the course of a police investigation.’ The DI pauses. ‘You want us to believe that you invested a substantial amount of money without checking out what you were buying. Is that correct?’

  It’s clear Hampton’s caught somewhere impossible. But the DI’s right. No-one invests without knowing where their money’s going – or had he been stupid enough, desperate enough, to do just that? And why is he protecting Mason?

  ‘All right. I knew.’ He slumps lower in his chair. ‘But not about the images of children.’

  ‘And you thought that was a justifiable way to – in your late wife’s words – make a lot of money?’

  ‘It happens,’ James Hampton mutters.

  ‘That doesn’t make it morally defensible. Let me get this straight. Even though you had money problems yourself, you handed over all the cash you could get your hands on to a man you took at his word to invest in a questionable business without a contract of any kind. Is that correct?’

  Still, Hampton remains silent.

  ‘If you can tell us what Mason’s up to, we’ll see what we can do about reducing the charges against you. Mason’s already in the crosshairs.’ The DI’s voice is steely. ‘Nothing you say can change that. You might as well tell us what you know. After all, Mason hasn’t exactly done you any favours, has he?’

  James Hampton nods miserably. ‘He said that if we had a gentleman’s agreement, it would save a fortune in tax.’

  The DI glances at me, then back to Hampton. ‘Porn and tax evasion, eh? I’d really like to have a chat with your friend. Do you have any idea where he might be?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I haven’t seen him since the funeral.’

  ‘Have you heard from him at all?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘When did you first realise your money was being invested in child porn?’

  ‘Not to start with. He showed me a website.’ James Hampton looks haunted. ‘Then he told me he was developing an app and he was looking for investors. At first, I was shocked. But then he told me thousands of people make money in the porn industry – and it might as well be us as anyone else. He told me there were safeguards in place and the girls needed to make money …’ He rests his head in his hands, before looking up again. ‘I was desperate. A few days later, he called me. Said he’d like to come over and catch up with what I wanted to do. He came into my office … He suggested we take a look at the website together. He’d left his laptop in his car, so of course, I suggested we use mine …’ He pauses, his face ashen as he remembers. ‘He showed me images. He told me they were of teenagers over the age of consent … And I wanted to believe him.’

  ‘Go on, please.’ The DI’s voice is curt.

  ‘I transferred the money into his account. When I received the first return on my investment, I didn’t think too much about where it had come from. I was just relieved to have some money coming in. Then, one evening, I’d had a couple of drinks and I took another look at the website. This time, I looked at more pictures than Mason had shown me on my laptop. That was when I discovered images of children.’

  I turn to the DI. ‘We have the search history, sir.’

  The DI’s face is implacable, his eyes riveted to James Hampton’s. ‘What did you do then?’

  ‘I called Mason and told him I wanted my investment back. I offered to repay the money I’d received, but after that, I wanted out.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  James Hampton’s voice is heavy. ‘At first, he tried to charm me around to his way of thinking. When I wouldn’t go along with it, he turned nasty. He said that because the site was now in my search history, I could be reported to the police for being in possession of pornographic images of children, unless I paid him off.’

  ‘And you believed him.’ The DI doesn’t take his eyes off Hampton. ‘It didn’t occur to you that he wouldn’t be able to do that without incriminating himself?’

  ‘He told me how easy it would be to anonymously tip off the police. Then he said that they’d never find anything to link the website to him.’ Hampton looks wretched. ‘I couldn’t take the risk. At that point, I was wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. If I had …’ He shakes his head. ‘I wouldn’t have lost anything, would I? I might even have ended up richer.’

  For a moment there, I’d almost felt sorry for him. But that last remark reveals the depth of his self-interestedness. Beside me, the DI stiffens.

  ‘Perhaps. But you’d have found yourself in just as much trouble further down the line.’ He pauses. ‘When did your wife find out?’

  At the mention of Stephanie, a look of regret crosses Hampton’s face as at last he shows some remorse. ‘Recently. I hid it from her.’ He says it as though his secrecy makes what he’s done less abhorrent. ‘But she found a letter from the bank a few weeks before she died.’

  He pauses and the DI says, ‘So as well as bankrupting you, your deal with Mason has effectively led to the death of your wife.’

  ‘Mr Hampton …’ I pause, trying to establish if there’s a link to Hollie’s death. Just as it was with Elise Buckley, there’s no easy way to ask this. ‘Did you know your wife was having an affair with Andrew Buckley?’

  In his chair, he seems to rock slightly. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me,’ he says at last through gritted teeth.

  Frowning, I give him a moment before asking again. ‘Are you saying you knew about them?’

  Unable to control himself this time, he snaps at me, ‘No. I didn’t.’

  So what was behind his hostility towards Andrew Buckley, which Elise witnessed at Hollie’s funeral?

  ‘Had you been to your wife’s salon recently?’ I watch him closely.

  ‘Not for a while.’

  I nod. ‘I guessed as much. If you had, you’d have noticed business was far from booming. I’d say she was winding it down, with every intention of closing it.’

  James looks horrified. ‘But she told me the salon was doing fine. Bookings were up. She said we’d get through this.’ As he falls silent, I know what he’s doing. He’s replaying every excuse she made to stay late at work, to be working at weekends. It’s clear he’d believed it at the time, but now he’s wondering if any of it was true. That’s what happens when someone cheats – you question everything.

  ‘I suppos
e you believed what you wanted to believe.’ I pause.

  Fists tightly clenched, he holds it together. ‘It’s this fucking village.’ His voice is full of anger, the strain clearly visible on his face. ‘Ever since Hollie met Dylan, it’s been nothing but a nightmare.’

  ‘Dylan?’ My ears prick up. I’ve never heard his name mentioned before.

  He utters a brief, cynical laugh. ‘Right there, that one word, tells you how little you know about what’s happened around here. Ask Elise Buckley. No, on second thought, ask her bastard of a husband. They know far more than I can tell you.’

  ‘Who is Dylan?’ I repeat.

  James looks stricken. ‘The boy Hollie loved, with all of her heart. But he screwed her up – destroyed her. If you’re looking for her murderer, it started with him.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Elise

  I swap a flight to go to my husband’s lover’s funeral, keeping up the appearance of the smartly dressed, loyal doctor’s wife, the cracks in our marriage hidden beneath layers of makeup, trying not to think about how many people know as I take my place at his side. It seems two funerals in the village within a month are too much for most people. The church is only half full, the flowers pitifully lacking.

  James sits at the front with two men I’ve never seen before either side of him. He speaks to no-one. There is nothing uplifting about the service. It’s only after it’s over that I realise the two men are plain clothes police officers. Their presence confirms my suspicions that the police are holding him. After waiting around only until Stephanie’s coffin is carried out through the door and laid to rest next to Hollie’s grave, they escort him away.

  The villagers may have let her down, but as I walk outside to the churchyard, it’s as though nature has done its best for Stephanie. The funeral may have been sparse in every sense, but out here primroses crouch in the shadier corners alongside brave stems of the first bluebells; under our feet, the grass is scattered with violets and the palest lilac wildflowers, the paltry efforts of the congregation during the few hymns outshone by the chorus of birdsong.