Dead Man's Daughter

by Roz Watkins

  I knew I shouldn’t contact Jai. It was his day off.

  I paced the kitchen, clutching my bowl of muesli. Sat back down. Pushed the bowl aside. Picked up my phone and stared at the screen.

  I sent Jai a text. Are you busy? No problem if you are but found out something interesting. Would be helpful to talk it through.

  A reply came shooting back. No. Watching crap. Could pop over to discuss?

  I paused. Went and switched the loud TV off so I could think. I’d only imagined a phone call. I hadn’t expected him to come over. It was a Saturday evening. How did this fit in with the new relationship? Surely he should be with her.

  Another text from Jai. Suki is out with the girls so she doesn’t care, if that’s what you’re worried about.

  The name sounded like a Sikh. No doubt gorgeous with perfect skin. Jai obviously thought she’d see me as so little of a threat that that she wouldn’t mind.

  I typed a reply. OK, that would be good. Head is spinning with it all. Whenever convenient for you, but don’t expect food!

  My finger hovered above the keyboard. I pressed send.

  20.

  Jai brushed snow from his coat and shoved a large pizza box into my hands. ‘It’s snowing again. Veggie something or other.’

  ‘Brilliant. Amazing. Thanks so much, Jai.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve seen inside your fridge.’

  I led Jai through to the kitchen. ‘Are you okay in here? I think it’s warmer.’ I gestured towards my table and chairs, still orange pine, and not painted in a sophisticated neutral as per my plan. ‘Do you want a drink?’

  Jai eased himself onto one of the chairs. ‘I suppose I could have one beer. If you’re going to make me think about the case.’ He opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice.

  ‘I’ve only got one beer.’ I poured the Pedigree into a pint glass with all the finesse of a former (very bad) barmaid.

  Jai took the glass and glugged a foamy mouthful. ‘Where’s the little porker?’

  ‘You mean my sleek and beautiful cat?’ I glanced out of the window at the snow, the flakes shining in the light from the kitchen. ‘Probably buggered off to get some freedom. He’s been trapped inside at Hannah’s so he probably hates me.’

  ‘You brute.’ Jai gulped more beer. ‘So, what have you found out?’

  I took a mouthful of pizza, dropping a lump of mushroom on the table and picking it off again, probably with orange varnish attached. ‘Did you notice that Rachel, Abbie and Karen the girlfriend all clammed up when they were talking about the dead sister – you know, the one who fell from the window?’

  ‘Clammed up? They never really un-clammed did they?’

  ‘They did a bit. Anyway, I went to talk to Karen again.’ I took a sip of wine. It tasted like nectar. ‘She told me Abbie pushed her sister out of the window.’

  Jai slopped beer onto the table. ‘Jesus.’ He reached for some kitchen roll and dabbed at his spillage. ‘So, Abbie isn’t a little angel. She could have killed her father too?’

  ‘That’s one interpretation. Don’t worry about the beer, it might get some of the varnish off.’

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me you’re still going to find another explanation?’ He gave the table another wipe. ‘No, it seems to be making it even oranger. Maybe bright orange pine will come back in?’

  ‘I doubt it. And no, I don’t think she’s a little angel but assuming it’s true, she was only six when she pushed Jess.’

  ‘What the hell happened, and how did Karen know about it?’

  I explained what Karen had told me.

  ‘Oh. I get it. Abbie killed Rachel’s kid. Phil covered it up. Rachel found out so she killed Phil and framed Abbie.’

  I seemed to have finished my wine. ‘I wanted to run that past you, at least.’ Would it be rude to have another drink when Jai had to drive home? I glanced out of the window again. The snowflakes looked fluffy and weirdly some of them seemed to be drifting up rather than down.

  The cat flap banged open. Hamlet charged into the kitchen and stared at me.

  I stooped to stroke him, then sorted him out some more of the gourmet cat food Hannah had treated him to. He purred ferociously, his wet hair standing out in comical little tufts as he stuffed it down.

  ‘Funny little bugger, isn’t he?’ Jai gulped his beer. ‘So, if Rachel did it, why did she cover up for Abbie at the start?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe once she’d done it, she regretted it? Or maybe it was a double bluff?’

  ‘She’s very clever if she did that.’

  ‘She is clever. She’s an accountant, remember. She’s capable of strategic thinking. And it’s the perfect revenge, isn’t it? Abbie gets done for murder, albeit not the murder she committed.’

  ‘How would Dr Gibson fit into this?’

  ‘I don’t know. And it doesn’t explain Ben and Buddy, and the pink spotty swimming costume.’ I chewed the inside of my lip. ‘Jai, don’t take this the wrong way, but you could stay over if you want? It’s snowing badly now, and then you could have a glass of wine and I wouldn’t feel so bad about sitting here guzzling the stuff.’

  Jai grinned. ‘I’d be doing you a big favour?’

  ‘I don’t want to cause any trouble with you and Suki though.’

  ‘Why? Should she be worried?’

  ‘No. Of course not. Forget it. Get stranded in the snow and die of hypothermia.’

  ‘Oh, well, if you put it like that. Have you still got those horrendous clothes you lent me after you nearly got me killed in a flooded cave? They’d do as nightwear.’

  ‘Yes. Very fetching they were too. And the spare bed’s clear. If you just jump from the landing over the books, you land right on it.’

  ‘Roll over, the Hilton. Crack open another bottle.’

  ‘Here, have some of this. I’ll stick another one in the freezer to cool down.’ I reached for a second glass and poured Jai some of the cheap Pinot. ‘So what do you think about Rachel?’

  Jai settled more deeply into his chair. I decided we’d stay in the kitchen. It felt more friend-zone. And I’d keep us on the wine and off the gin, even though it was Saturday night. I could be so sensible at times.

  ‘It’s possible.’ Jai examined a thumbnail intently and then sighed to indicate a major subject change. ‘I’m finding it difficult with Suki,’ he said. ‘I really like her but it’s hard.’

  ‘Oh.’ I needed more wine if I was going to have this conversation. Or did I need less wine?

  Hamlet eased himself out of the cat-flap again. Obviously couldn’t cope with the tension.

  ‘She doesn’t understand. What it’s like being a cop, I mean. And I’m not sure she gets my humour.’

  ‘Your humour is a pretty niche product.’ Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. ‘She might learn to love it. It’s probably an acquired taste, like beer or olives. I had to make myself like beer at uni. I’m not sure why I bothered.’ Now I was gibbering.

  He gave me a wry smile.

  I knew I should shut up and leave the subject alone, but I couldn’t do it. ‘Is she a Sikh?’

  ‘Yes. And my parents like her, so at least that side of things is easy. I’m not sure why, because she’s quite modern – plucked and shaved and generally un-devout – but I suppose she puts on a good act for the olds.’

  ‘Are they still bothered about that stuff? I mean, you’ve cut your hair anyway . . . Is it different standards for women, as usual, or have they not totally given up on you?’

  ‘No, they have. Pretty much. After I married Linda, I dropped the pretence. When I was younger, I didn’t have the nerve to fight with them about it. They turned up for an unexpected visit once when I was at uni and my friends had to keep them talking while I hid the beer bottles and put the bloody turban on because I couldn’t face the argument. They thought my friends were the most sociable teenagers in England.’

  ‘Oh God, I can imagine.’

  ‘The state of my student house, I was lucky the damn turban hadn�
��t been chewed up by mice and used as a nest. I’m not sure it looked quite right, but they didn’t say anything.’

  ‘I can’t picture you in a turban.’ I took a gulp of wine.

  He looked towards the window, now half covered with a precarious film of snow. ‘I don’t know how we’re supposed to make relationships work in our job.’

  ‘Most of us don’t.’

  ‘I think she wants the whole marriage and kids thing, you know? I don’t want to lose her, but . . . Did I tell you Linda had met someone new? A lawyer, of all things.’

  ‘I’d imagine that would suit her. I never understood why she went for you.’

  ‘Oh, thanks Meg, very good to hear.’

  ‘I don’t mean it like that, but she always seemed so status- driven. She needs to be with someone who cruises around in a Porsche and stays in the Dorchester.’

  ‘You’re probably right. I’m sure Mr Pretentious Lawyer will suit her fine.’ Jai’s voice pitched into vulnerable. ‘But what if the kids start to think of him as their dad?’

  ‘They won’t. He’s probably a total nob.’

  Jai laughed. ‘No doubt. I haven’t met him yet. So anyway, it’s already complicated enough. I don’t want to be thinking about more kids with Suki.’

  ‘Blimey, Jai, I thought you’d only just met her.’

  His expression was glum. ‘Women in their thirties like to move fast.’

  I knocked back a bit more wine and decided to go meta. ‘Jai, I’m finding this conversation a bit tricky. Especially after offering you a bed for the night and giving you beer and wine. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get my thirtysomething claws into you. Because I’m really not. I have no biological clock – or if I do, it’s buried in a kind of concrete bunker like decaying nuclear waste, and it doesn’t tick – well, not audibly, especially after experiencing that lemming-like toddler today. And I’m actually happy single, despite Hannah’s best efforts to hook me up with reasonably successful but always slightly unhinged men on the internet. Which, incidentally, I’ve decided she only does to make her life more interesting.’

  Jai laughed. ‘Okay, we’re fine. You’re clearly a lesbian.’

  ‘Perfect. I’m happy with that. Talk to me on that basis.’

  ‘I’ve already got two kids and an obnoxious ex-wife, and I’m not sure I want any more right now.’

  ‘Have you told Suki that? The kids bit, I mean. I’m sure she’d be fine about taking it slowly if she really likes you.’

  ‘Maybe I haven’t made it clear enough.’

  I fished the now-chilled wine from the freezer and topped our glasses up. It wasn’t even the same wine. Classy. ‘Sounds like you need a proper chat with her.’

  Jai groaned. ‘I know. What about you? Any of these unhinged men look promising?’

  I waved the thought of them aside. ‘In a word, no.’ I caught Jai’s eye. Looked down into my glass and swirled the wine around. ‘I’m taking my gran’s advice and staying single and care-free. Well, single anyway.’

  ‘How’s your gran doing?’

  ‘She’s kind of rallied a bit.’ I felt a wave of misery. For just a moment, I wanted to be hugged and told it was okay, even though it clearly wasn’t. ‘But we have to take her. If we don’t do it next week, it’s not going to happen, and then she could have the most awful death.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It sounds horrible. I’m not trying to get rid of you but are you sure you don’t want to take a few extra days off?’

  ‘It’ll be fine. We’ll bring Rachel in on Monday. Maybe if we confront her with what we know about Abbie pushing Jess, she’ll confess and we can wrap it all up.’

  Jai looked at me for a moment, then sighed and took a deep gulp of wine. ‘Maybe. Do you think Rachel made up all the heart stuff then? How would she know about the donor child’s details?’

  ‘I don’t know. There are still lots of questions. And we only have Karen’s word for all this, of course. We need to talk to Rachel.’

  ‘It’s a bizarre thing for a child to do. Pushing her sister from the window.’

  ‘Not compared to all the other stuff that poor kid’s been accused of. And it sounds like she did it to make her dad happy. To make him happy, she needed a new heart.’ I wondered what I’d have done as a kid to keep my dad happy. Sometimes it had felt like the most important thing in the world. Might I have pushed someone out of a window if I thought it would please him? I couldn’t rule it out.

  ‘But why kill her sister? Why did she think that to be given a new heart, you had to kill someone?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Maybe that’s what we need to find out.’

  *

  It was one o’clock in the morning, the wine was gone, and fortunately I didn’t have another bottle. We’d slipped into the timeshift that happens when you drink. It was ten, then suddenly one. I needed to get to bed before we entered the second phase and found ourselves at three.

  ‘Do you want to use the bathroom first?’ I said. ‘There’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet.’

  Jai stood. ‘Thanks, Meg.’ He brushed into me on his way past. Paused a moment. Shifted slightly towards me. I held my breath.

  Hamlet crashed through the cat flap and stood centre-stage. He let out a blood-curdling yowl.

  Jai leaped away from me as if he’d stuck his finger in a mains circuit.

  ‘Jesus, Hamlet,’ I said, heart pounding. I turned to Jai. ‘He fights with the local tomcats. Sorry.’

  Jai sighed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll use the bathroom while you calm him down.’

  *

  I was at a festival, trying to find a toilet. They were all full, or impossibly filthy. I stumbled around. My phone was ringing. When I tried to answer it, nothing happened. It just kept ringing. I stabbed at the green symbol but it rang louder and louder.

  My eyes popped open. The clock said 06.30. I groaned. My phone was on the bedside table, ringing, vibrating, and flashing a blue light. I reached and pulled it to my ear.

  A woman’s voice. High-pitched and upset. The words tumbling out on top of one another. ‘She’s tried to kill her!’ Then something incoherent. ‘Unconscious . . . ambulance.’

  21.

  I wrenched myself out from under the duvet and sat on the side of the bed. My breath came fast. I felt a sick crunching in my stomach. ‘Please,’ I said. ‘Take it slowly. First, who are you?’

  ‘Patricia! Rachel’s mum.’ Something buzzed in the distance at her end. I heard a crash that sounded like her dropping the phone, and I was cut off. I called back but it went to voicemail.

  I jumped up and rummaged for clothes. Dragged on something that was hanging over the back of the chair. Shouted to Jai while standing on one leg clawing a sock onto my foot. No response.

  I ran and bashed on the spare room door. ‘Jai! Get up!’

  His bleary face appeared. ‘What on earth?’

  ‘I’ve had a phone call from Rachel’s mum. She said She’s tried to kill her.’

  ‘Oh shit.’ He retreated and reappeared moments later wearing yesterday’s clothes. ‘Shit. Does she mean Rachel? Has she tried to kill Abbie?’

  ‘She didn’t say. She was very upset.’

  I limped downstairs with Jai hot on my tail.

  His voice was loud, and close behind. ‘Maybe she decided yesterday that you weren’t going to arrest Abbie. Her plan hadn’t worked. If only we’d done something last night.’

  ‘I know. I know.’ I felt ready to throw up at the thought that Abbie had been hurt because of me. How could I have been so slack? Bring her in on Monday. Was I mad?

  ‘We’d better get over there,’ Jai said. ‘Do you need anything to eat?’

  ‘No. I’ll puke if I try to eat. We should go in separate cars.’ I grabbed my keys from the overflowing bookshelf, and pulled open the front door. ‘Oh, fabulous.’

  Snow carpeted the road, the cobbles showing through only where cars had driven over them. The world felt muted like a film with the soun
d turned down. Flakes were drifting from the sky.

  ‘Will your car be okay?’ Jai said. ‘It wasn’t so great yesterday. We should probably go together, you know. If anything happens . . . ’

  ‘What if Craig’s there?’

  ‘Bugger him. I don’t care. We’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Come on then. Let’s go in yours.’ Although I was a stalwart defender of my little car, Jai’s had functioning windscreen wipers and heating.

  Jai drove at a speed which may have risked innocent road users, and I sat in the passenger seat and beat myself up. Poor Abbie. Even if she had pushed her sister, she’d only been six. She couldn’t have properly understood the implications. I’d let her down. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head rapidly as if to punish my brain for its stupidity and bad judgement.

  By the time we arrived, the ambulance had been and gone, and a uniformed PC stood guarding the door. ‘They’ve taken her off in the ambulance,’ he said. ‘Her mother’s gone with her.’

  ‘But she’s a suspect.’

  ‘What? The old dear?’

  ‘No. The younger woman.’

  What was the matter with me? My brain was chugging at steam- powered speed. I glanced at Jai. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Where’s the child?’

  ‘She’s inside, with another PC.’

  *

  Abbie sat on one of the stiff-backed dining room chairs and sobbed. A male PC sat opposite her looking desperate. When I walked in, Abbie’s head shot up and she shrieked. ‘It was in my hand!’ She grabbed at her hair, pulling out a few strands. ‘In my hand, with blood on it.’

  I sat on the chair next to her. ‘It’s okay, Abbie. Tell me what happened.’

  Her voice came out in a high-pitched wail. ‘I’m evil. I can’t help it.’

  ‘What happened, Abbie?’

  She jumped from the chair and ran to the bay window which overlooked the road. She spoke through sobs. ‘Where’s Mum? Where’ve they taken her?’