‘But it was awful, Dad. Imogen was vile to me and I can’t seem to get beyond that. Who I am, everything I’ve done, everything I do, is a result of what she did.’
‘Only because you let it be,’ he replied. ‘Poppy needs you to believe her, to be on her side. Ask yourself this, Julia – do you really want to lose your daughter the way I lost you for all those years?’
61
It took two phone calls to finally rouse Alan from the sofa, upon which he’d stayed slumped after Gus’s earlier visit.
The first was from his ex-wife, Gayle, incandescent with rage and shouting the odds.
‘If you ever threaten me like that again I’ll report you to the police!’
He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, and said so.
‘The text you sent me at four this morning, saying you’d kill me if I spoke to any reporters again.’
He had no recollection of sending any texts but when he checked his phone, there it was.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was pissed when I sent it.’
‘I haven’t even spoken to anyone.’
‘The woman from the Echo said you’d been telling her stuff about me.’
‘It’s rubbish. She did call me but I put the phone down on her. I can’t believe you thought I would sell you out.’
‘She made it sound like you had. I shouldn’t have texted you and I promise, swear on my life, that I’ll never do it again.’
‘You shouldn’t be drinking, Al,’ she said, calming down. ‘It makes you worse.’
‘I’ve got nothing else to do,’ he said piteously.
‘Oh, Alan.’
‘I miss you. I miss the kids. I still love you, Gayle.’
Her voice wavered. ‘You didn’t love me enough, though. If you had, you wouldn’t have squandered every penny we had and run up tens of thousands’ worth of debt behind my back.’
‘How many more times can I say I’m sorry? I wanted to give us a better life.’
‘I didn’t need flash cars and holidays for a better life. I needed a husband who didn’t lie to me about his spending habits and make me and my kids destitute.’
‘Haven’t I been punished enough? I know I did wrong but I lost you, the kids, my job and my home. What more do you want?’
‘I can’t do this. I can’t keep having the same conversation with you, Al. It’s the same thing, over and over. You tell me you’re sorry and I tell you that I understand, but it still doesn’t make things right.’ She stifled a sob, which made his heart splinter. ‘I have to go.’ She hung up.
When the phone rang again twenty minutes later he raced to answer it, hoping it might be her ringing back to smooth things over. But it was Mrs Pullman, informing him that Years 5 and 6 would be returning to school tomorrow but the remaining years and Reception were going to be set up in temporary classrooms at sites across town, including two other primaries and the town hall.
‘It’s devastating to think of the children scattered across Mansell,’ she said, her voice full of emotion. ‘Children crave routine and they need the structure that school gives them. But I don’t see what choice we have. The children’s education cannot be disrupted any longer.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Alan lamely.
‘It’s not your fault. I do need you back on site tomorrow though. Are you fit enough to return to work?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘You’ve been through a lot this past week, Alan. I want to make sure you are feeling mentally capable of doing your job with everything that’s going on. I have a duty of care to my staff as much as to the children.’
He was touched by her concern and it gave him the impetus to shake the sleep from his leaden limbs and resolve to freshen up, starting with getting rid of the bristles puncturing his chin and having a shower. He would pop to the shops after and get some decent food in for dinner, no processed crap. And no booze: he was done drinking for at least the rest of the week.
‘I’ll be fine,’ he assured her.
He meant it. Talking to Gayle made him realize the job at Rushbrooke was all he had now, and like children with their routines he cleaved to the security it gave him. He needed to get back to normal too.
62
There were too many people still milling about for Maggie to confront Umpire. Instead she shot him furious looks across the incident room while she prepared to brief Carmichael about Imogen. Once or twice he glanced back, but his expression was impenetrable, which annoyed her even more.
Carmichael was, to her relief, as competent as she looked. She listened intently as Maggie went through her log and brought her up to speed on where the investigation into Benji’s death was. She was older than Maggie, at least late forties, and she had the air of someone who stayed calm in a crisis. She was also astute.
‘I get the feeling you’re not happy about this,’ said Carmichael, quiet enough so the others couldn’t hear.
‘No, I’m not. Well, not because of you,’ Maggie said hurriedly. ‘I’m annoyed because I wasn’t warned this was happening. I’m worried about how Imogen will take it. She and her mum are already concerned they’re being bumped down our list of priorities and this will convince them their fears are valid.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll reassure them that this is in their best interests.’
Maggie frowned. ‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘They already know and trust you, so who better to step up and take more responsibility for the investigation? I can make it clear to them that you’ll still be in regular contact, while I’ll be there to ease them through procedural stuff. Between us I’m sure we can allay any concerns they have.’
Begrudgingly Maggie had to admit to herself that Carmichael was going to be a great replacement.
‘How long have you been a FLO?’ she asked.
‘I’ve lost count,’ said Carmichael with a smile. ‘I was one of the first wave when they brought in the new training, so that’s going back to 2000, 2001.’
‘Have you never wanted to do anything else?’
Carmichael gave her a shrewd look.
‘No, I love liaison. Nothing else has appealed to me in the same way. I did do a stint as an Acting DS myself once, but I knew pretty quickly it wasn’t a good fit for me.’ She leaned forward and dropped her voice even lower. ‘Don’t do anything rash because of today. You might find you like it.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure.’
Carmichael grinned. ‘I’m guessing someone will be getting it in the neck tonight. He should’ve warned you.’
Maggie blushed. ‘You know about us?’
‘I know from what others have said that you’re a couple who have always acted professionally when working together and that’s all I care about.’ She leaned forward again. ‘But make sure you give him hell when you get him home.’
63
Feeling better after his shower, Alan rifled through the cupboard under his kitchen sink to find some old carrier bags to take to the supermarket, save himself some money buying new ones.
Rising up, his cheek itched again and he rubbed it furiously. He’d decided against shaving when it occurred to him the bristles were doing a good job of masking the scratch on his face. The fewer questions he solicited about that, the better. But bloody hell it itched.
Leaving home, he was pleased to see the weather had cooled a bit; having not ventured outside the entire weekend and with the curtains kept shut he’d had no idea whether it was sunny or raining. The cloying heat that made it difficult for him to breathe had dissipated but it was still pleasantly mild.
There was a Co-op not far from The Wheatsheaf but Alan turned right out of his garden gate to head in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to bump into anyone he knew and he didn’t want to be tempted into having a drink. He needed to keep a clear head.
As he ambled along the pavement his thoughts strayed uncomfortably to Ruby. He hated to think what might’ve happened to her
. She seemed like a nice girl, all things considered, and no one deserved to be discarded like unwanted rubbish under a pile of cement.
He expected the police would want to question him about her, but he didn’t mind. This time he had nothing to hide, because he knew nothing. He had no idea who killed Ruby or why. He wouldn’t be lying this time.
Encouraged, his stride became brisker and he whistled a tune as he walked. The tunnel had a glimmer of light at its end: Gayle hadn’t said anything to the reporter, the police couldn’t force him to change his story back about the Hepworth girl and Gus was willing to alibi him for Wednesday evening in return for his continued silence.
His step faltered as he dwelled on Gus for a moment. He didn’t want to rely on him, but what else could he do? Then he had a thought, and reached for his phone. Get it down in writing – don’t just accept his word for it.
Hi, Gus. Cheers for letting me say I was at yours on Weds. Owe you one. Alan.
It took about six seconds after he’d pressed send to realize what he’d done. He stopped in the middle of the pavement, white as a sheet, staring down at his phone.
He’d set up a false alibi in a text and he’d made it sound as though it was all his idea.
Fuck.
Alan clutched his phone, wondering how he could retract the message and make it vanish from existence. Perhaps he could call Gus, ask him to delete it from his phone. Would that be enough?
Alan’s thumb was about to press down on the green handset symbol to make the call when a car screeched up to the kerb beside him. The passenger door opened and a man got out. For a split second he thought it was Gus and his stomach did a somersault. Then he realized it was the detective who’d interviewed him on Friday about his 999 call, DC Thomas.
‘A word, Mr Donnelly.’
‘I’m on my way to the shops,’ he said feebly.
‘I need you to come down to the station with me.’
He could feel himself backing away, even though he knew he shouldn’t and that it was a bad idea to, but it was as though he had no control over his legs.
‘Mr Donnelly, don’t make this more difficult for yourself.’
He turned to run but Nathan was too quick and his grip on Alan’s upper arm too firm.
‘If you don’t come with me now, I’ll be forced to arrest you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice,’ Nathan said.
Alan’s legs gave up on him.
64
Imogen took instantly to Carmichael and seemed mollified by her and Maggie’s explanation of how things would work from then on. Grace, on the other hand, raged with indignation.
‘My grandson hasn’t been dead a week and we’re on our third family-liaison person. This is outrageous,’ she said. ‘I’ve a good mind to make a complaint.’
‘This isn’t how we want to do things either,’ said Maggie.
‘Mum, Maggie said she’s still involved in the case,’ said Imogen. ‘She’s not leaving us to it.’
Grace made a harrumphing noise that made it clear she thought otherwise.
‘The books that Jamie took, have they been helpful?’ asked Imogen.
Maggie let Carmichael answer. She wanted to be sure she knew how to handle questions that required a considered answer. Patronizing, yes, given that Carmichael was far more experienced than her, but the guilt Maggie felt at being removed from her post made her crave the reassurance.
‘Benji had written a story in his notebook about a boy who saw someone disposing of a dead body. We have reason to suspect it was actually a true account of something he’d witnessed himself in the school grounds,’ said Carmichael steadily.
‘Benji saw a dead body? You don’t mean the woman you found on Saturday?’ Imogen gasped. ‘Oh, that’s horrible.’
‘Did he ever give you any indication he’d witnessed something like that? Like making funny comments or dropping hints?’
‘Only what I told you about him coming home crying that day. Maybe that was it? Mum, can you think of anything else?’
Grace was too shocked to speak, shaking her head vigorously instead.
‘Are you sure the story is really about that?’ Imogen pressed. ‘He could’ve just made it up. He had a great imagination.’
‘We did consider that, but the other notebook found in Benji’s bedroom belonged to the deceased woman.’
Imogen clamped her hand over her mouth in horror.
‘We believe Benji found the notebook either where the woman’s body was buried or close by,’ Maggie added. ‘Apparently she carried it on her at all times.’
Grace floundered for words.
‘But if Benji had seen something so . . . so . . . serious, he would’ve said something. Imogen raised him to be honest and open, he would tell her anything.’
‘Maybe he was too scared,’ said Carmichael. ‘Maggie is going to be interviewing Poppy again this morning to see if she knew. There was a reason the children went to the school last Tuesday morning and it might be that Benji wanted to tell her what he’d seen and where it happened. He might’ve wanted to confide in a friend first for advice.’
Imogen unclenched her hand from her mouth.
‘That doesn’t explain why he fell to his death though.’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Maggie admitted, ‘and just because we’re pursuing this other angle doesn’t mean we’ve given up on finding out. We have a new senior officer in charge, DCI Umpire, and he’s determined you’ll get the answers you want.’
‘It’s not answers we’re after, it’s justice,’ said Grace.
‘We understand,’ said Carmichael.
‘I’m not sure you do. My grandson was the most precious thing in the world to us and we’re bereft he’s gone. I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest and it hurts so much I can barely breathe.’
Imogen’s tears came suddenly, unbidden.
‘Mum’s right. Every time the door goes, I expect him to run in calling my name. I wake up in the middle of the night craving a cuddle, like my body is literally aching for him. I want to feel the weight of him again, feel his arms around my neck, and I can’t. I miss him so much,’ she cried.
‘So you can tell us you understand, but really you don’t,’ said Grace. ‘The only thing that’s keeping us from going completely mad right now is the idea that someone will pay for his death, and soon.’
65
Maggie left Carmichael comforting Imogen and Grace, and made the short drive to the Hepworths’ house. She parked in a side street around the corner because she wanted to check her phone before going in; it had pinged twice on the drive over and she didn’t want to be sitting in full view of the Hepworths’ front-room window as she checked her messages.
The first was an email from Burton and the news it imparted was frustrating: the digital autopsy results were in but there were no visible signs to show Benji had been pushed, no bruising or contusions to his chest or back. However, the conclusion did echo Mal Matheson’s preliminary report that the severity of Benji’s head injury suggested he had fallen with unnatural force.
Burton’s email finished by saying Umpire was now deciding whether the scan could be trusted and if they should insist on a scalpel PM being carried out, in case there were signs of internal bruising. He was going to seek advice from the head of Legal Services before taking the request to Imogen. Maggie dreaded to think how she would react.
The other message she’d received was a text – and to her delight it was from Jude. She scrolled down its length, her pulse beginning to race. Her nephew hadn’t messaged her to say hello again, he was asking for help.
I hate it here. I want to come home. I want to go back to my old school. Can I live with u? Mum’s got a new bf and he’s nasty.
She messaged back immediately.
That doesn’t sound good. Can you talk now?
Ten long seconds passed until the next ping.
Can’t now, Mum’s here. But I’ll try soon.
I’ll be waiting
. But if you need me before then, call ANY TIME.
I will. XXXXXX
I love you kiddo. And Scotty and Mae. XXXXXX
Maggie stayed parked for another ten minutes, until she was sure Jude wasn’t going to text back again. Then she got out of the car, her joy at him getting in touch again overshadowed by heart-clawing worry for him and his brother and sister, and for their mum as well. Lou’s taste in men had never been stellar, but none of her past boyfriends or her ex-husband had ever been aggressive towards her or the kids, assuming that’s what Jude meant by him being nasty.
What on earth was going on at home that Jude was desperate to leave?
66
Julia checked through the bags one last time to satisfy herself both children had everything they needed for the following day. For Dylan that meant his PE kit, for Poppy her library book to be exchanged. With shaking fingers she fastened the bags and moved them from the kitchen table to by the front door, so they could pick them up on their way out in the morning.
If she had her way she’d have kept them off school for longer, but Ewan agreed with Mrs Pullman that they shouldn’t miss any more lessons and should return tomorrow. Poppy would be going back to Rushbrooke but Dylan’s class was going to be taught at a primary school fifteen minutes by car. Julia was grateful she had the week off to take Poppy, while her dad was going to drive Dylan.
Mrs Pullman had reassured them during her phone call that Poppy would be supported on her return. She seemed to think that because the police hadn’t taken any action against her that was the end of the matter.
‘We have pastoral-care measures in place to ensure her welfare, including the opportunity to talk to a counsellor. I think it will be good for Poppy to return to her normal routine,’ she’d said.
Julia knew she should’ve been grateful that the head was being so accommodating but she wasn’t sure they shared the same idea of normal. To Mrs Pullman that meant reintegrating Poppy into the classroom as if nothing had happened, but Julia knew that her daughter’s return to school would still be frowned upon by some parents who thought she was to blame for another child dying. She’d read the comments online, the slurs against her family, the insinuations and falsehoods about Poppy, about her as a parent. The temptation to reply to each one was overwhelming until she forced herself to shut down her tablet and silence the sniping.
False Witness Page 22
