‘So,’ he said slowly. ‘Kris died because of me.’
DI Markham sat forward. ‘You know that’s not true. She died because a man called Francis Howell strangled her. Can I get you a glass of water?’
‘No. it’s okay. What about Taylor?’
‘We’re mulling over what to do about him and taking advice because of his illness. He’ll probably be charged with encouraging a crime. You won’t be surprised to hear he’s got himself a top notch lawyer. He’s on bail at present and at home.’
‘And Ruth? Ruth doesn’t know about her husband and Howell or Kris’s death?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘If I’d come back to the police about Howell and Taylor, when I found Howell here and discovered what was going on, this might never have happened. Kris would still be alive.’
‘It’s hard to know. There’s not much point tormenting yourself about what ifs. You’ve been in the force. You’ll have said this kind of thing to grieving people yourself. I know it’s different when you’re involved, but it’s still true. Given Taylor’s state of mind when his wife gave him this news, he might still have gone after you indirectly. I would say that the man is warped in his thinking, mentally unwell. I don’t know how much that might be related to his illness. He certainly sees himself as hard done by, a victim. He seemed to think his actions were justified. People behave in strange ways when they believe the world’s against them.’ Her phone beeped and she glanced at it. ‘Look, I have to go now. I’ll need you to come and make a full statement about what happened previously with Howell and the background with Emlyn and Ruth Taylor.’
‘Have you been in contact with Ruth?’
‘I’ve tried but she’s not answering her phone. Her family in Shropshire haven’t heard from her. I shan’t be pursuing her. She has no direct involvement with what’s happened. I expect you’ll try to reach her, given what I’ve told you.’
He sat after she had gone, pressing his towel against his face again. He tried to think about what he had been told, to sort it out in his mind but his head felt full of cotton wool. Two women, one dead, one probably alone and possibly frightened, and carrying his child. Life had imploded around him. He groaned and called out Kris’s name. In his mind’s eye he could see Howell forcing his way through her door when she opened it. He imagined her alarm. Howell would have started playing his new game, taunting her, telling her he knew where she lived now and she’d hear more from him. He might have mentioned Swift in that cocky way of his, might have asked her if she knew that her boyfriend had got another woman pregnant. Through her fear, she probably realised that he was the man who had previously attacked Swift. Maybe Howell had strutted around the living room, throwing a few of her sewing implements on the floor to emphasise his control and knowledge of her life. She would have been incensed by such disrespect. That was probably when she summoned the courage to shout at him and that was when he panicked. She might have died, then, at the hands of that low life, knowing that Swift and Ruth’s relationship was far from over and wondering if Swift already knew about the baby.
He forced himself to shower and shave, staring at his misery-filled eyes in the mirror. He had brought misfortune directly to Kris’s door through his own careless actions. He knew that he would never put down the burden of that knowledge. As he picked up his razor, he saw a tiny tube of moisturiser tucked under the rim of the glass shelf and teased it out with his finger tip. It was Kris’s. They hadn’t yet got to the stage where they were leaving toiletries at each other’s homes but he recalled the evening when she said she’d been given some freebies when she was shopping — shower gel, soap, a scented linen sachet. She had opened the tube of moisturiser for him to sniff and laughed when it made him sneeze. He undid the cap and inhaled the mild orange and honey scent. It was all he had to remind him of her. He stood there for a long time, the tube in his hand, his mind crowded with what ifs.
* * *
It was almost midnight. There was a gale blowing, whipping in from the river, the wind moaning in the chimney. Swift sat with a hot whisky laced with sugar and lemon. Mary and Cedric had just left. He had wanted to tell them both his news so that he could be honest with them and not have to repeat the painful details. They had brought a spicy takeaway and over the food he had told them about Ruth and how ultimately his ongoing relationship with her had impacted on Kris. They had been stunned but kind, not saying much. When he walked Mary to her car she linked arms with him, pulling him into her in a gesture he was glad of.
‘We’re both going to be parents, then,’ she said.
‘Yes, but you’ve gone about it more responsibly.’
‘Oh, Ty. I know you hate it when life is messy but sometimes it just is. I do hope you get to speak to Ruth soon.’
He sipped his drink, hoping that Ruth was somewhere safe and warm. He had been hoping that she would contact him but had heard nothing from her. He had phoned her mother in Shropshire. She had been in tears, saying how worried she was and that Ruth hadn’t been in touch and no one else in her family had had any contact. He had rung her closest friends and her work but heard the same messages. He rang Taylor’s number but put the phone down before it was answered. He couldn’t trust himself to speak to the man. His anger was too fierce, and what could he hope to achieve? There would only be a bitter exchange that would offer no resolution. He opened his laptop and wrote an email to her, choosing his words carefully:
Dear Ruth,
I’ve been informed that you have left Emlyn and that you told him the baby you’re expecting is yours and mine. No one has heard from you. Please get in touch with me. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to see me or tell me where you are. I just want to speak to you and know that you are safe and well. I would like to be part of our baby’s life. I am worried about you and I do have responsibilities towards you and our child.
Please, Ruth, reply to this email.
He pressed send and poured another whisky. He was drinking too much but he needed the numbness. He was tired but too fretful to sleep. When he did sleep his dreams were haunted by blurred images of Kris and Ruth or at times of a woman who looked like Kris but spoke with Ruth’s voice. The previous night, he had had a nightmare in which he was searching for a lost baby. He could hear its cries but even though he was looking desperately, its sobs grew ever fainter. He lay on the sofa, listening to Nina Simone, sipping his drink, hoping to hear the ping of an email arriving.
* * *
Judith Saltby had agreed to meet her brother. When Swift phoned her, she listened in silence as he detailed the events leading to Teddy’s injuries, her father’s reactions and Joshua’s present situation. He was able to tell her that just that morning, her mother and Graham Manchester had been arrested in Aberdeen, attempting to board a ferry to Shetland.
‘My God,’ she said at last, ‘I pity Joshua. What a life he has been living. A family can exist under the same roof and have no idea of what’s happening to each other. And my mother and Graham, they’ll go to prison?’
‘Inevitably.’
‘Oh, this is appalling. I’m holding on to Samuel here. This makes me feel that I never want to let him out of my sight.’
He pictured her with the child, cupping her hand protectively around his vulnerable head.
‘Did you say Joshua has nowhere to live?’ she continued.
‘That’s right. He’s in a bad way. He feels overwhelming guilt. I think he might consider self-harm.’
‘I’m not surprised. This is a lot to take in. I need to think. I’ll speak to my husband, then I’ll ring you back.’
Swift had reflected on her comment about her family, thinking it applied equally to the Bartletts. When she phoned him back, Judith said that she would like to invite Joshua to stay for a couple of days. They had a spare room and it sounded as if he needed a refuge.
Swift offered to drive Joshua Saltby to Cambridge. The man was in pieces, a bewildered, sickly figure, unshaven. On seeing him
in his small room in the B & B, sitting hunched on a chair, Swift had been moved. He looked as if he should be in a hospital bed. He didn’t think Joshua could make it to his sister’s on his own and he worried about what might happen to him if he was left alone. There had been enough damage and despair in the Saltby family without a suicide.
Joshua sat beside him in the car, knotting and unknotting the tassels of a wool scarf. Most of the journey passed in silence. Swift stopped once and bought two coffees and croissants.
‘Try to eat,’ he told Joshua gently, watching the tremor in his hands.
‘My throat closes when I try.’
‘I know, but take tiny bites. And at least drink all the latte, the milk will sustain you.’
Joshua managed a couple of bites of the croissant and sipped most of the coffee.
‘Your sister Judith is a good woman,’ Swift said. ‘As in genuine goodness. This is a huge gesture she is making, inviting you back into her life after you rejected her. You need to be careful with her.’
‘Yes, I know,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t think she would want to see me. I don’t know what I can say to her after all that’s happened, all we did to her . . . what on earth can I say?’ He touched Swift’s arm, giving him an imploring look.
‘You could start with sorry and take it from there.’
Joshua nodded. He slept for the rest of the journey, an uneasy, restless slumber, his head twitching. Swift saw him in to the house and watched as Judith put her hand out and shook her brother’s. She was clearly alarmed at his appearance and sat him in the living room, where Samuel was lying on a rug in a nest of soft toys. Swift refused a drink, saying he wouldn’t stay. The truth was, he couldn’t bear to watch Judith with her baby and witness the warm glow that enveloped them.
‘You did the job you were employed to do, then,’ Judith said to him at the door.
‘Yes, and more. I’m sorry about your mother and Graham and the shock of all of this. I hope it goes well for you and Joshua. I think he can only benefit from being in your home with you. He needs to see the possibility of another life.’
‘Thank you. We’ll take it slowly. The Select Flock is a difficult burden to lay down but at least I know something about how to try. Small steps.’
* * *
As Swift neared London, he realised that he wanted to return to Low Copsley and visit The Yew Grove once more. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was to seek the profound silence and bring Teddy’s story full circle. He retraced the route to the village, parked in the same spot and set off along the path. It was soft and muddy after the recent rain. The spongy earth sucked at his boots. Looking at the fretful dark clouds overhead, he thought it might pour again soon and quickened his pace. A cloudburst came as he reached the yew trees and hurried under them. The water barely penetrated their weighty branches. He sat on the ground against a tree trunk. The hazy light was restful. The sound of the deluge hissing against the leaves above was powerful and soothing. Mary, he knew, had an app on her phone which played sounds of falling rain. On frantic days she sat for a few minutes in her car and listened. She said it lowered her blood pressure.
He thought how wonderful it would be to believe in an Otherworld, a place where Kris would be in a state of transformation. He spoke her name, called to her, told her he was sorry, so sorry. His head bowed, he wept. Slowly he surrendered to the hypnotic pulsing of the raindrops and listened to his own soft breathing. His mind emptied for the first time in days. He dozed for a few minutes and woke when his phone buzzed. It was an email from Ruth:
Ty, I understand why you’ve contacted me. We are expecting a girl and she is doing fine. I left Emlyn because I couldn’t take his anger any longer and I couldn’t continue to deceive him about the baby. I can’t regret that you’re the father but I feel confused and overwhelmed. I don’t know what I want to do. I’m okay. I need to be on my own for now, no fuss. I will let my family know I’m alright. I know I’ve been selfish, leaving them to worry. Please don’t contact me again or try to find me and please don’t fret. I’ll get in touch again as and when. Sorry, but that’s all I can say for now. R.
He read it several times. It brought him little consolation, except the knowledge that she was safe. She could be anywhere in the world. He put his phone in his pocket and looked around the grove where Teddy’s tragedy and the solstice celebration with its promise of light and life coexisted. The ancient beliefs celebrated the wheel of the year here, where Teddy’s blood had flowed. This was where the Druids greeted the earth’s relentless movement towards renewal. The long-lived yews would have witnessed it all.
He watched a squirrel dart along a tree trunk, seeking winter stores, preparing for the frosts to come.
He thought: I have a daughter.
THE END
READ THE FIRST BOOK FEATURING TYRONE SWIFT
THE LADY VANISHED
http://www.amazon.com/LADY-VANISHED-gripping-detective-mystery-ebook/dp/B0170HJAMY/
http://www.amazon.co.uk/LADY-VANISHED-gripping-detective-mystery-ebook/dp/B0170HJAMY/
How can someone vanish without a trace?
Carmen Langborne is a woman who no one seems to like very much, and now she's gone missing. But there is no body, no leads and no real suspects. And the police have stopped investigating her disappearance.
Carmen's stepdaughter Florence hires private detective Tyrone Swift to find the missing woman. If the body is found, Florence will inherit half of a very valuable house. As Swift delves deeper into the family’s affairs, he discovers dark family secrets that threaten the reputations of powerful people. Will Swift get to the truth before those with much to hide stop him?
UK/US GLOSSARY
A & E: accident and emergency department of hospital
Aye: yes (Scottish)
Ball and chain: wife (negative)
Banksy: famous graffiti artist
Barrister: lawyer who argues in court
Bedsit: a one-room apartment (small)
Bin: rubbish
Blighty: means England
Bloke: man
Bookie’s: Bookmaker
Bonnet: hood of car
Boxing Day: 26 December
Bully for you: good for you (sarcastic)
Bumfluff: the first pubic hair
Carer: person who looks after old or ill people
Chaps: men
Chip: fat French fry
Chipper: feeling positive
Civil servant: someone who works for the Civil Service
Civil Service: government departments which put central government plans into action
Council flat: public or project housing
Cross: upset or angry
Cuppa: cup of tea
Deputy head: deputy principal
Do: party
Druid: priest or magician of ancient Celtic religion/ also modern-day adherent of the religion
Estate agent: real estate agent
Ex-directory: not in the phonebook
Fella: man
Fitzrovia: smart London area
Fizzy drink: carbonated beverage
Flat: apartment
Form teacher: class teacher
Geordie: someone from Newcastle
Gilet: sleeveless padded jacket
GP: local doctor
Hack: newspaper journalist
Hanky: handkerchief
Interpol: International Criminal Police Organisation, facilitating international police cooperation. HQ in Lyon, France.
Loft: attic
Magistrate: a civil officer who administers the law
Mates: friends
Missus: wife
Mobile phone: cell phone
Mobile: cell phone
Mothercare: shop selling stuff for babies and expectant mothers
MP: member of British parliament
Mumsnet: website where parents discuss stuff
No-go area: dangerous place
Ofsted: UK government’s inspector of schools
Overall: a one-piece garment worn to protect clothes
Oxbridge: refers to Oxford and Cambridge universities
Plantagenet: English royal dynasty, on throne from 1154-1485
Plaster: Band-Aid
Poofter: offensive slang for a gay person
Poncy: pretentious
Post: mail
Puds: puddings/desserts
RC: Roman Catholic
Red Brick University: university founded in 19th and 20th centuries
Register office: a government building where you get married or register births
Ring: to phone
Roedean: fancy girls’ boarding school
Roundabout: traffic circle
Rounders: baseball’s ancestor
Rubbish: trash
Rum bunch: odd
Solicitor: lawyer
Sun cream: sun lotion
Takeaway: takeout food
Tea: afternoon meal of cakes, small sandwiches, tea etc
The Boat Race: famous rowing race between Oxford and Cambridge universities
The tube or underground: subway
Tod: on one’s own
To-do: a commotion
Torch: flashlight
Travellers: gypsies or other nomadic people
Travel card: transport ticket
Triskele: Celtic symbol of three spirals
Tweedledum and Tweedledee: characters in an English nursery rhyme
UHT: ultra heat treated milk for long life
UKIP: political party wanting UK to leave European Union
Wedding breakfast: meal eaten just after the wedding (doesn’t have to be in morning)
Wee: little (Scottish)
Willies: (can mean plural of penis), the willies means frightened
CHARACTER LIST
Tyrone Swift Private detective, 38 years old, lives in London. Used to work for the Metropolitan police and Interpol.
Mary Adair Swift’s cousin. Assistant Commissioner in the Metropolitan police.