by Jay Gill
“You’re so full of shit, Lyle. If you could get to me, I’d be dead already. Then again, maybe you think you have more clout than you actually do. Delusional, they call that. Look it up.” Richter laughed and slapped the table with a tattooed hand.
“You can sit there and act all cocky. I really don’t care. I’m out there living life. Drinking wine, eating great food, travelling the world and getting laid. You, on the other hand, are lucky if you get an hour in the yard. Made any new friends in the showers? How’s that working out for you?”
Richter appeared unimpressed by Lyle’s little speech. “Little overdramatic, don’t you think? We both know you can’t touch me. We both also know her death was unintentional. What’s the real reason you’re here? Is it that you’re bored with me? I mean, if life’s so good on the outside and you have your freedom, then why waste your time visiting me? The difference between you and me, Lyle, is I know who I am. I accept it. I know where I fit in. You, on the other hand, well, you’re still a lost little girl who’s angry at Daddy. Maybe it’s time you got over it. Perhaps it’s time to take a long, hard look at yourself and move on. Perhaps you’re suffering from never having had a real man in your life?”
He paused and placed a finger on his lips, pretending to think. “Something just occurred to me. Why didn’t I think of it before? Ooh, Kelly, perhaps you’re still looking for a real man. Is that what it is? You’re confused about your sexuality. Is that why you’re here? How about I show you how a real man feels, then you can decide?”
Richter gave a filthy, guttural laugh as he leaned back in his chair and pretended to unzip his trousers.
Lyle closed the fake folder of notes in front of her and placed her clasped hands on top of them.
“Richter, you can act with as much bravado as you like but your time is coming. You’ll never know it’s coming. But I guarantee it is, and from a most unexpected hand.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.” He jumped to his feet and tried to grab Lyle from across the table. She took a step back to avoid his grasp. He grabbed the fake file and paperwork and threw it across the room.
“You want to know what your real problem is, Lyle?” He grabbed his crotch. “You wish you had a pair of these. When I get out of here, I’m going to pay you a visit. And this time I won’t miss, I can promise you that. You’re a fucking dead woman. Dead – you hear me?”
Richter ran his finger slowly across his throat. “Dead.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Emma and I had been working out of my home office since the early hours, challenging assumptions and making calls. We decided to take a break, get out and go for a walk.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“You need to stop asking me that. If the same had happened to your old partner Rayner, would you be asking him the same question?”
“As a matter of fact, I would. Partners look out for each other.”
“Is that what we are? Partners?”
“So long as we can trust one another. Agree not to hide anything from each other. And look out for each other. Then I’d say yes, we’re partners.”
Emma turned to look at me. I could see she was wondering whether I knew. To her credit, she opened up about going to see Horn. When I showed no surprise, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Rayner told you?” Her voice was accusing.
“As I said, partners don’t hide things.”
She looked annoyed and embarrassed, like a child who’d been caught cheating a friend. “I wasn’t hiding anything. I wanted to understand before speaking to you. I didn’t want you distracted from your own line of enquiry with what might amount to nothing.”
I wasn’t angry, only mildly annoyed. Annoyed that Emma had chosen to speak to Horn without consulting me. What had happened to Helena would always be very personal for me, and it felt as though she’d stepped over the line.
“I really believe the tipoff is connected to this current case. It makes sense to look into it,” said Emma.
“You believe there is some sort of connection between what’s happening now and what happened to Helena? Lyle told you that?”
“You make it sound like that’s impossible.”
“You could have got yourself killed. Lyle’s toying with you. It what she does. All it’s done is get Tony Horn killed.”
Emma stopped in her tracks and looked at me as if she hadn’t heard me correctly. With shock on her face, she said, “What? Is he dead? How? When?”
“He was found dead in his cell. In truth, I’m surprised it hadn’t happened before this. He had a way of pissing people off, from what I heard. What did he say to you, exactly?”
“Nothing, really. I got the impression he was trying to change. Trying to get his life back on track. He was obviously a troubled individual.”
I didn’t like the way Emma spoke about Horn. As far as I was concerned, he had no right to a life. I really didn’t care to hear that Horn had been trying to improve his life. I knew I shouldn’t be, but I was glad he was dead.
“Do you think Lyle got to him?” she asked.
Now it was my turn to be shocked.
“I have no idea. I don’t see why Lyle would want Horn dead. As far as I know, they have nothing connecting them.”
“Lyle wants me to look at Helena’s murder. All these recent murders are all very close to home.”
I nodded in agreement. “Most recently with Etheridge’s murder, Dave’s and now Horn’s.”
Emma added, “It feels like every step of the way, she’s corralling us towards an endgame. We need to ask why. And we need to ask how it all fits together.”
We walked for some time in silence, both of us thinking and wondering what we were missing.
“Something Horn said has been going around and around in my head,” said Emma. “He said the detective had been getting too close. What do you think he meant?”
I shook my head. “My guess is it didn’t mean anything. Either he told you what you wanted to hear, or he was concocting a story ready for when he was eligible for parole.”
Emma stopped walking and said, “I’m going back to the office. The station office. I’ll drop by my house first, grab a few things and start working from there. I’ve slept on my office sofa more times than I care to admit.”
I didn’t like it, but I could see from her manner there was no point arguing with her.
“You’re welcome to stay in our guest room for as long as you want; you know that.”
“Thank you. If the sofa becomes too uncomfortable, I may take you up on it. You have enough going on, with your father in the hospital. I’m also thinking I can’t let Lyle drive me out of my home. I really should go back there. And sooner rather than later. And there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Try me.”
“I want to speak to the killer you were investigating with Rayner when Helena was murdered. I want to speak to Edward Richter.”
We didn’t speak on the walk back to the house. I couldn’t stop her seeing Richter any more than I could insist she remain at my home.
As I watched her drive away, I wondered whether I should have confronted her and asked whether there was anything else she had neglected to tell me.
There was no doubt in my mind Emma was an excellent detective, and I decided that even though I liked to think I had all the answers, in truth I knew I didn’t. Perhaps this investigation was too close to home and I was blinkered to what was really going on.
Giving Emma the space to investigate the way she saw fit might yield a breakthrough. As the saying goes, “Sometimes the secret to leadership is to step back and let others lead.”
Since she had spoken to Rayner and to Horn, I guessed it was only a matter of time before she began digging deeper. I had nothing to hide, but I was concerned that she might get in over her head and not ask for help.
I decided to call in a few favours and make sure some
one was looking out for her.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
I answered the phone on the third ring. I sat up in bed as I felt my body go numb. Monica lightly touched my back and whispered, “What is it, James?”
I couldn’t find the words. I switched on the bedside lamp and fumbled around for my clothes.
Monica sat up and looked at me. “James? What’s going on?”
I gave up trying to find my sock and pulled on a fresh pair.
“That was Mum on the phone. She’s at the hospital. Dad’s had another heart attack. I need to get over to the hospital right away.”
“Shall I come with you? Shall I get the girls up?”
I was looking under the bed, hunting for my shoes. I was having difficulty thinking where they would be.
“No, no,” I said. “Would you stay here? There’s no point worrying Faith and Alice. Let’s wait until we know more. Is that okay? I’ll call you.”
“I’m so sorry, James. Of course. Your shoes are downstairs. You always leave them downstairs. Let me help you.”
The drive to the hospital was a blur. I was filled with emotions and thoughts of what I might find when I got there. All I knew was I should have visited more often. I should have been there. I hated the thought Dad might have been without family when it had happened again. Had Mum been with him?
I ran across the car park and in through the emergency doors. I took the stairs two at a time and reached the ward.
Nurse Gillespie was on the phone and waved me in. I tried to read her face to understand the situation.
The ward seemed too calm and too quiet. This wasn’t what I was expecting. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t calmness.
I started to conclude Dad must be okay. Perhaps it was a false alarm. If he’d suffered another heart attack, he was in a hospital and in the safest hands.
Perhaps I’d built the whole emergency up in my mind to be more than it was. I suddenly felt sure he was okay. He was probably sitting up in bed with a big smile on his face, joking with the nurses and apologising for being a troublesome patient.
I walked over to Nurse Gillespie’s desk as she began to hang up the phone. As I approached, Mum came around the corner.
I smiled at her as I looked for reassurance that everything was okay.
She looked up at me and burst into tears. She threw out her arms and held onto me. “He’s gone, Jamie. I’m sorry. Your dad has gone.”
This must be a nightmare, and I have to wake up.
I wanted to break away from her hold on me. I didn’t believe her. I needed to see Dad. But Mum was hugging me so tight I was unwilling to leave her. I stayed and held her. She needed me now, and I needed her.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Dad was meant to have had a routine operation and be coming home. This can’t be happening.
I sat with Mum for a time, and we talked about Dad and how strong he was. We convinced ourselves that if he’d had to go, it was better this way than after some drawn-out and lengthy illness. I guess it was a way to make ourselves feel better when, in truth, all we could feel was the injustice of him being taken away so soon.
After a couple of hours talking with nurses and doctors, then summoning the courage to leave, Mum and I were ready to go home.
I drove Mum back to her empty house.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us? I think it would be better if you were with us right now.”
She squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Jamie. I have things to do. You have your family, and they need you. Just now, I need my own space. You understand?”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said. “I’ll come over first thing.”
“Okay. Night, night.”
I watched Mum walk up the path to her front door and enter the house they had shared. Never again would she hear Dad’s voice call her and ask how she was. Where she’d been and if she was okay.
I waited until she turned and waved and switched on the house lights. I drove away with tears streaming down my face.
Chapter Sixty
Lyle opened the fridge and felt the rush of cold air on her legs. After examining each shelf, she took out a punnet of strawberries. She ran them under the kitchen tap as she gazed out the kitchen window. She turned off the water and then, carrying the punnet with her, began to stroll through the house. Occasionally she popped a strawberry into her mouth.
The house, with all its unique smells, looked and felt homely. Lyle looked at the children’s drawings and paintings and certificates that plastered one wall of the kitchen.
Walking from room to room, she felt at home and at ease. There was something about the place that made it feel how she imagined a family home should.
In the hallway sat a hairy, partly chewed dog’s bed. There was no dog in it. Lyle had made sure the house was empty of people and animals. In fact, she’d sat for several hours waiting for everyone to leave.
The daughters were at school. Monica and the dog were visiting the grieving mother again. Hardy was out looking for clues that didn’t exist.
Lyle stepped past the dog’s bed and went into the sitting room. On the coffee table were children’s colouring books and an iPad. A doll’s house sat on a low table beside the television, along with a pushchair that was crammed full of dolls. Lyle straightened a long-legged doll.
She went over to the fireplace and looked at the photos. Smiling faces of children, grandparents and Mum and Dad. She picked up a photo of the two girls and removed the picture from its frame. She tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans and popped another large strawberry into her mouth.
Lyle made her way upstairs, finishing off the last few strawberries as she went.
Peering into each of the rooms, she decided to go into Faith’s room first. The room was light and airy, and the walls were painted a very pale pink. There were fairy lights along one wall and around a large mirror. The lampshade hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room was multicoloured glass, and the bedspread and pillow were fairy themed. Lyle picked up the pillow and hugged it.
A small white desk caught her eye. She read through the homework, writing and drawings. Picking up a brightly coloured pen, she drew a heart on the corner of one of the pictures.
She picked up a little glass jar filled with a mixture of sweets, the sort that used to cost a penny. She gave it a shake to see all the different varieties.
Alice’s room was decorated more maturely; it was undoubtedly a young girl’s room, but certain things, like an alarm clock, the floral bedding and curtains – not fairy themed like Faith’s – and the creamy-white walls, made it feel more grown up.
A few teddies and dolls at the end of the bed hinted that this was still a child’s room, although they appeared more ornamental than used as toys.
Monica and Hardy’s bedroom had very little in it. It looked as though it were being prepared for decorating. There were no carpets, and clothes were packed in boxes. There were no wardrobes. Besides the bedside table, with an alarm clock and the cable from a phone charger, there was a dining chair that had been brought up from downstairs. Lyle was a little disappointed there was no chest of drawers to go through or wardrobe to peer into.
She stuck her head into the bathroom, stepped in and ran her hand along the edge of the bath. She squeezed a green rubber bath toy and laughed out loud as it croaked. She smelled the soap, shampoo, body lotion and moisturisers.
Next, she opened a tall floor-standing cabinet and went through the shelves one by one.
Back downstairs in the sitting room, she went to a row of family photographs. Picking them up one by one, she studied them. At the end of the collection stood a school photograph of the two girls standing side by side in their school uniforms, Alice with her hair plaited and Faith with her ponytail slightly askew. Such pretty girls, Lyle said to herself. Happy, pretty girls.
Lyle folded the photograph, still in its cardboard photo frame, and slid it into an inside pocket
of her jacket. Okay, girls. You can come with me.
She heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveaway, followed by the sound of car doors slamming and children’s voices. Monica and the girls were home from school already.
As Monica opened the front door, allowing the children and dog to rush noisily into the house, Lyle slipped out through the back.
Chapter Sixty-One
Emma was back at the prison for the second time in a month. This time, she was visiting the man Hardy and his partner Rayner had been pursuing at the time of Helena’s death.
On her arrival, Governor Trent had not mentioned the death of Tony Horn. Instead, it hung in the air unspoken, as if neither one of them felt any inclination to discuss it.
“You could say I was a little surprised to hear you were coming back so soon. And to see one of my star prisoners this time. You must have friends in high places to get a visitation with Edward Richter so quickly.”
Emma was puzzled by the governor’s tone. “Well, I don’t know about that. I just put in a request through normal channels.”
“Really? It doesn’t matter now, though, does it? You’re here.”
There were a few moments of silence as the governor read through the visitation request. Emma felt sure he would have already done so.
“Edward Richter, real name is Edward Fischer, is a special prisoner. You will not be in the same room as him. He will remain in his cell for the entire interview. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, no problem at all.”
Trent sat back in his chair and played with his tie. He patted it and stroked it flat. He deliberately let his eyes wander over her as he said, “He’s kept apart from other prisoners. It’s better that way.”
“For his safety. I understand.” She could have kicked herself for making an assumption.
