The Secret

by Debbie Howells

  ‘What?’ It’s the first I’ve heard of that. ‘He can’t put that one on her. Their son took an overdose.’

  ‘I’m just telling you what Elise said earlier.’

  As we turn into the village, I slow down but only slightly. When we turn into the Buckleys’ drive, I see both cars parked side by side. From the outside, it’s the picture of a normal, well-to-do family home. But as we reach the back door, it’s anything but. The sound of loud voices comes to me as I turn to Sarah. ‘Check that Emerson’s on his way.’ Then I knock. ‘Doctor Buckley? Mrs Buckley? It’s DS May.’

  The shouting instantly subsides. Andrew Buckley opens the door about half a minute later, his features arranged into an air of artificial calm, but his eyes are filled with anger. ‘What is it, Detective Sergeant?’

  ‘We’d like to come in. If you wouldn’t mind …’ I take a step forward, but he blocks the doorway.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I do mind.’ His eyes glint dangerously. ‘My wife isn’t at all well. I’m trying my best to help her, but you lot turning up makes it all far worse.’

  From behind him, Elise’s thin, desperate voice reaches me. ‘It’s OK, Andrew. I can talk to them.’

  He briefly turns to glance at her. ‘There is no need.’

  Just then, Emerson’s car turns up. I wait for him and another uniformed officer to join us at the door. ‘We’d like to talk to you, Doctor Buckley – at the station.’ Emerson holds his gaze.

  He glares at Emerson, then turns to me, suddenly flinging the door open in a dramatic gesture and standing back. As I pass him, he mutters, ‘You have no idea what’s going on here.’

  Ignoring him, I go through to the kitchen, aware of the others behind me. Elise looks terrified and her bruising has taken on a purple hue. I try to make eye contact, but she turns away.

  ‘Now, what’s all this about?’ Trying to sound vaguely amiable, Andrew Buckley attempts to bluff his way out.

  ‘We have concerns about your wife’s safety, Doctor Buckley,’ Sergeant Collins says calmly.

  ‘There’s absolutely no need. There’s been a misunderstanding, hasn’t there, Elise? My wife has difficulty distinguishing between fantasy and reality, ladies.’ His patronising tone makes my spine prickle. ‘Her problems started when our son died.’ He lowers his voice. ‘We’re doing our best to overcome them, but as I said, this constant police questioning really doesn’t help.’

  ‘That isn’t true.’ As Elise speaks up, I recognise the courage it has taken to do this. ‘There is no misunderstanding, Andrew. You did this.’ As she points to her face, the blood drains from his.

  His eyes narrow. ‘That is nonsense and you know it,’ he snarls, his rage getting the better of him as he starts launching accusations. ‘You’re deluded, Elise. I’ve tried to protect you, but you’ve forced me into this. I can’t hide it anymore. We both know that it was you who killed Dylan.’

  I watch shock register on Elise’s face. Then she glances at me, even more terrified than before. But I’ve seen enough. I step forward. ‘Andrew Buckley, I am arresting you on suspicion of violently attacking your wife.’

  But he interrupts me. ‘You can’t arrest me. You don’t have any proof I’ve done anything.’

  Raising my voice, I talk over him. ‘You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’ I nod towards Emerson, who comes forward and leads Buckley away.

  I look at Sarah. ‘You’d better go with them.’ Then I notice Elise is trembling and add, ‘I’ll stay here. I’ll let the DI know you’re on your way.’

  As the other officers go outside, I walk over to where Elise is sitting. ‘I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s going to be OK.’

  But she looks distraught. ‘You don’t know Andrew. He’ll get me for this.’

  ‘Elise, he can’t. At the very least, there are legal measures we can take to keep him away from you.’ I pause. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘Is Niamh here?’

  ‘She’s upstairs.’ A look of horror washes over her face. ‘I have to protect her from this, but don’t you see? Everything I do makes it worse.’

  ‘Your husband will be kept in overnight,’ I tell her. ‘And I’m sure the hospital staff will confirm that your injuries were not the result of a fall. They see this too often, Elise.’ I watch her. ‘So do we. Meanwhile, you and Niamh should carry on packing. The sooner you’re away from here, the better.’

  *

  As I walk out to the car, I call the DI. ‘Sir, Collins and Emerson are bringing Andrew Buckley in. We’ve arrested him on suspicion of assaulting his wife. He denies it, of course, but he’s guilty as hell.’

  ‘Right. I’ll address it when I talk to him about Mason.’

  ‘I thought you might. I’ll see you shortly, sir.’

  As I glance back at the house, seeing Elise’s battered face at the window is like looking at a mirror image of my past self. But it reconfirms my belief that if Andrew Buckley is capable of doing that to his wife, he could have done far worse to Hollie.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Jo

  When I get to the police station, Andrew Buckley is still in reception with Emerson, loudly demanding to make a call to his lawyer.

  ‘As soon as we’ve completed this paperwork, you can use the phone.’ Looking up, Emerson catches my eye.

  ‘Everything all right?’ I say breezily.

  When Andrew Buckley spins around, there’s a look of rage on his face. ‘No, Detective Sergeant. Everything is not all right. You’ve forced me to leave my unstable wife alone with my daughter. You have no idea what you’re doing.’

  ‘Your wife and daughter manage perfectly well when you’re working.’ I stare at him. ‘Sign the forms, and then you can call your lawyer.’ As I walk away, I hear him swear under his breath.

  *

  ‘He’s digging himself a hole, sir,’ I say to the DI. ‘His behaviour is classic of his type. He’s all about control. Now that he doesn’t have any, we’re seeing the real Andrew Buckley and he’s a nasty piece of work. But the problem is Elise. She’s terrified of what he’ll do when he gets out.’

  ‘We need to find out where he fits into this case. That’s if he does …’ The DI frowns. ‘I think we should catch him on the hop. Tell him about Mason and Operation Rainbow. Watch his reaction.’

  ‘We already know Hollie had something against him – we need to find out what it was. He’s calling his lawyer, by the way. I’ll let you know when they’ve arrived.’

  As I walk back to reception to check how Emerson is faring, my phone buzzes. It’s Elise Buckley. My first thought is that she needs to hear a familiar voice.

  ‘How are you, Elise?’

  ‘Niamh’s just told me something. I don’t know if it’s relevant, but I thought I should tell you anyway.’ Elise sounds jittery.

  My ears prick up. ‘What did she say?’

  ‘You know how Hollie used to wander wherever she pleased and that Niamh was with her sometimes? She said that Hollie recently climbed into Phil Mason’s property. At the time, Niamh didn’t realise whose house it was and she said she tried to stop Hollie … I just thought you ought to know.’

  This confirms my suspicions that Hollie was on to Mason and my thoughts start to race. ‘Yes. Thank you very much.’

  She pauses briefly. ‘I have to go.’

  After she hangs up, something about what she said niggles at me. But then Emerson calls me. ‘Buckley’s lawyer is here. They’re in the interview room. I said we’d give them ten minutes.’

  ‘OK.’ I hesitate. ‘Do me a favour. Elise Buckley – do you have time to go back over there?’

  He looks unsure. ‘I have a stack of paperwork to write up. Is it important?’

  ‘It’s a hunch,’ I tell him. ‘Something’s wrong …’

  ‘Give me half an h
our?’ When I nod, he goes on. ‘I’ll shoot over there then.’

  ‘Thanks. Just check she’s OK. Reassure her that we’re keeping her husband in tonight.’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the DI coming down the corridor towards me. ‘Right. Let’s do this. Are they in there?’

  I nod. ‘I’ve just had a call from Elise Buckley. Hollie did take Niamh into the grounds of Mason’s house. She must have known he was up to something.’

  ‘If Buckley’s involved, we need to nail him now.’ His face is grim. ‘From everything you’ve said, he’s hiding something. I want to know what it is.’

  *

  Andrew Buckley’s lawyer is tall with short black hair. He stands when we walk in. ‘I’m Hamish McClure. On behalf of my client, I’d like to stress he strongly objects to being brought here.’

  ‘Believe me, we have several very good reasons for keeping you here, Doctor Buckley.’ The DI speaks abruptly. ‘We will be recording this interview.’ He glances at McClure but speaks to me. ‘Start the tape, May.’

  While the DI gives the normal preamble for the tape, I watch the look of disdain on Buckley’s face, knowing he believes himself to be above the law. That’s how people like him operate.

  ‘Doctor Buckley, did you or did you not hit your wife three days ago?’

  He folds his arms. ‘As I’ve stated before, my wife had too much to drink and fell as she was coming down the stairs.’

  ‘We’ve spoken to the hospital staff who looked after her. General consensus is that she was the subject of a vicious assault. We also have photos.’

  Reaching into a brown envelope, I pull out the photos the hospital sent over.

  Andrew Buckley looks furious. ‘Who took those? I didn’t give them permission.’

  ‘Your permission wasn’t required. We had your wife’s.’ I pause as McClure glances at them. ‘According to the doctor who admitted her, you tried to play down what were clearly significant injuries. But you must have been worried enough to take her in. Did you realise you’d gone too far? Or did you think everyone would believe your story?’ When he doesn’t answer, I go on. ‘There was another injury to Mrs Buckley’s stomach. She was in considerable pain.’

  ‘She fell awkwardly. That isn’t proof of anything.’ Andrew Buckley glares at me.

  ‘No. But a fist-sized bruise is, Doctor Buckley.’ I pause. ‘She also told us that you cancelled a rental agreement she’d recently signed. It was one you had no right to interfere with. You told the estate agent they could keep the rent she’d paid up front, then you called her employer and told them her mental state was questionable. Did you discuss any of this with your wife first?’

  ‘Of course I didn’t,’ he says dismissively. ‘She was in no fit state to make any decisions. It would have been highly irresponsible of me not to tell her employer. I’ve talked to her about this in the past, but she continues to hide it from them.’

  I glance sideways at the DI, wondering if he realises how typical this behaviour is of an abuser. ‘Hide what, exactly?’

  ‘Her mental health problems.’ He almost sneers as he speaks. ‘She’s very adept at pretending nothing’s wrong, but you have to admit, she’s all over the place. I’ve tried my hardest to take care of her, for all our sakes, but she makes it impossible.’

  My voice is no-nonsense. ‘And what about what’s best for Niamh?’

  ‘She would be far better off with me if my wife left, which I’ve no doubt is what she’s said she wants.’

  I’m speechless for a moment at his arrogant assumption that a court will give him custody of Niamh. ‘You’re assuming the court will agree with you.’

  He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind.

  The DI takes over. ‘Doctor Buckley, is it true you weren’t happy about your daughter’s friendship with Hollie Hampton?’

  McClure butts in. ‘What does this have to do with Mrs Buckley?’

  ‘We’ll get to that if you’ll let me go on.’ The DI shows exemplary patience. ‘Answer the question,’ he says to Buckley.

  ‘Hollie was unstable,’ he says brusquely. ‘She wasn’t a good influence on Niamh.’

  ‘She went out with your son, didn’t she? By all accounts, they were in love.’

  ‘Now look here,’ Andrew Buckley starts to bluster. ‘My son is dead. Leave him out of this.’

  But the DI frowns. ‘You told us that Hollie made an appointment to see you, with the express intention of causing you trouble. Is that correct?’

  When Andrew Buckley nods, the DI says, ‘Would you like to tell us what happened?’

  ‘She asked me to examine a lump in one of her breasts. She refused a chaperone, then after taking off her top, she started screaming. She accused me of touching her inappropriately.’

  ‘No-one witnessed this?’

  ‘No.’ There’s a frown on Andrew Buckley’s face.

  ‘So it was your word against hers?’ When Buckley nods, the DI says, ‘And no-one doubted you.’

  ‘It was obvious she was lying.’ Andrew Buckley looks angry again.

  ‘To you, maybe.’ The DI pauses. ‘But there’s the possibility, isn’t there, that you did touch her? Or frighten her? No-one can prove otherwise.’ As Andrew Buckley opens his mouth, the DI shoots him a warning look. ‘I understand you put the incident down to her having discovered that you were having an affair with her stepmother, Stephanie Hampton. Is that correct?’

  ‘Absolutely. She told me to stay away from her stepmother.’ He pauses. ‘It wasn’t enough for her though. Someone slashed my car tyres a little while ago. It doesn’t take much to work out who.’

  ‘You think Hollie did that?’ The DI’s eyes don’t leave Buckley’s face.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, there’s hardly anyone else around here who would have.’

  ‘Do you have proof?’

  ‘I don’t need proof, Detective Inspector.’

  The DI leans forward. ‘Did you report it at the time?’

  ‘No, but …’

  The DI interrupts. ‘Apart from your affair with Mrs Hampton, was there any other reason she might have wanted to hurt you?’

  ‘This has no bearing whatsoever on why my client is here.’ This time McClure is more forceful.

  ‘I think it does.’ The DI keeps his calm. ‘From what Doctor Buckley’s just told us, it’s clear he believes himself a more credible source than anyone else.’ He corrects himself. ‘No, infallible, I think the word is. I suggest that the same applies to everything he’s said about Mrs Buckley, though his account is no less subjective and no more credible than hers. As I was asking …’ He pauses. ‘Is there any other reason, Doctor Buckley, why Hollie Hampton might have wanted to cause you trouble?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’ His face gives nothing away.

  ‘You’ve told us you don’t think Hollie was a good influence on Niamh … Did you feel the same way about her relationship with your son?’

  ‘My son is dead.’ Andrew Buckley’s whisper is menacing. ‘Life was very different before he died – for all of us. Including Hollie.’

  As I watch him, Andrew Buckley swallows. Then he turns and mutters something to his lawyer. As McClure clears his throat, I can guess what’s coming.

  ‘My client is exhausted. He’s been under immense strain dealing with his wife’s problems. I suggest we continue this conversation another time.’

  The DI nods. ‘Very well.’

  ‘Thank God.’ As Andrew Buckley stands up to leave, the DI interjects.

  ‘Sit down, Doctor Buckley. I’d like to remind you that you’re under arrest. You’re not going anywhere.’

  Niamh

  I watch from upstairs as my father is taken off in the police car, and I run to the bathroom just in time before I’m sick. The police aren’t going to make anything better. They didn’t when Dylan died.

  Whenever he speaks, my father undoes everything my mother says before adding his lies. ‘Elise is unstable … She
doesn’t know what she’s doing … I try to look after her … I don’t know what else to do for her …’ Then, when he thinks no-one’s watching, he hits her.

  My mother’s shaky after the police leave, and when she looks at me, I see she’s as frightened as I am. We both know he’ll come back. He always does. Each time angrier than the last.

  ‘I don’t understand, Niamh. Why wouldn’t you leave here with me?’

  Shaking my head, I say nothing. I can’t tell her that as long as he’s alive, we’ll never be free of him. It doesn’t matter where we live. He’ll find us. Nowhere is safe.

  There is only one way for everything to be OK and that’s to do what my father wants.

  And he knows that.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jo

  Something’s niggling at me the next morning, just before we’re scheduled to continue questioning Andrew Buckley.

  ‘Sir, do we know how long Andrew Buckley’s affair with Stephanie Hampton went on?’

  He frowns. ‘I don’t know. Why d’you ask?’

  ‘It may be nothing. But I want to check something out. I need to talk to James Hampton again.’

  *

  In the interview room, James Hampton wears the resigned expression of a condemned man.

  ‘I need to ask you about your wife’s affair with Andrew Buckley, Mr Hampton.’ I watch as his face clouds over. ‘Do you know when it started?’

  ‘Not for sure, but something changed last summer. She was suddenly out much more. I knew she was busy at work so I put it down to that. She also seemed brighter than she had in a long time. I put that down to her work, too. She loved what she did. Now, I realise she was with him.’

  ‘Can you narrow it down to a month?’ I watch him closely, knowing that if he says what I think he’s going to say, there are huge implications for Andrew Buckley.