Blood Harvest (44 page)

‘I can’t get an answer from Gillian’s flat,’ she said, when the door opened. ‘I’m worried about her.’

Gwen Bannister sighed. ‘Come in, love,’ she said. ‘You look fit to drop.’

Evi followed Gwen along the floral-patterned hall carpet and into a small living room. The carpet was worn in places, the room hadn’t been decorated in a long time. A television in the corner of the room was switched on.

‘Have you seen her today?’ asked Evi, glancing at the television, wondering if Gwen would turn it off.

‘Sit down, love. I’ll put the kettle on.’

The last thing Evi wanted to do was drink tea, but she sank gratefully on to the sofa. ‘I’m not sure we should hang around,’ she said. ‘I’m really quite worried. When did you last see her?’

‘About two hours ago,’ replied Gwen, after a moment. ‘She’s been helping with the search all day. Then, about five o’clock, when it was just too dark to go on, I saw her chatting to the vicar.’

The television was too loud. Evi flinched as the TV audience started applauding. ‘And did she seem OK?’ she asked.

Gwen shrugged. ‘Well, I think he might have said something she didn’t much like, because she spun on her heels the way she does and flounced off down the hill. Is she definitely not at home?’

‘There are lights on but she won’t answer the phone or the door.’ Evi had waited outside Gillian’s house for fifteen minutes, getting colder and stiffer. In the end, she’d had to try something else.

‘I’ll walk down and check on her,’ Gwen was saying. ‘Will it wait till I’ve had my tea?’

‘Probably,’ said Evi, although she really would have preferred Gwen to go immediately. ‘If you’re at all concerned about her, especially if she isn’t there, I need you to phone me,’ she went on. ‘If she seems basically OK, could you tell her that someone will call her in the morning? A colleague of mine from the hospital. She’s going to be taking over Gillian’s case.’

Gwen frowned. ‘I thought you and she were doing quite well.’

‘We were. I’m sorry, I can’t really go into it. Thank you for your help and please phone me if you need to.’ Evi pushed herself to her feet.

‘I will,’ said Gwen, as she did the same. ‘There’s been no more news on the little lad, then?’

Evi shook her head.

‘His poor mother. Makes you wonder what’s going on up here, doesn’t it? And in church too. I hear they’ve left a constable in the vestry overnight, just in case … well, it doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?’

Evi moved towards the door. Gwen was standing in her path but there really was no time for chatting. Evi made a show of looking at her watch and Gwen stepped aside.

‘I should be more sympathetic to Gillian, I know,’ Gwen began, as she followed Evi down the hall. ‘She lost her daughter and two other little girls she was fond of. Course, nobody thought it was anything other than coincidence, what with all the time in between each one. Four years in between Lucy and Megan, then another three before we lost Hayley. And what happened was so different. One fell, one disappeared, one died in a fire. How could we have known they were all linked?’

‘You couldn’t,’ said Evi. ‘Nobody should feel to blame.’ She stopped, three feet from the front door.
All linked?
‘Gillian was fond of Lucy and Megan?’ she asked.

‘Oh aye. She did some nannying for Lucy when she was alive. Can you manage that door, love?’

‘I think she told me that,’ said Evi. ‘I didn’t realize she knew Megan as well.’

‘Used to babysit for her. Sweet little lass, she was. The family moved away. You don’t get over something like that, do you? I should have more sympathy with Gillian, I know that. Look, let me.’

Evi watched Gwen reach past her to open the door. She made herself step forward and over the threshold. ‘Thanks, Gwen,’ she said. ‘Keep me posted.’

Outside, Evi leaned against her car. Already a fine dusting of snow was covering the windscreen. She couldn’t lose her head now. Find the link, Steve had said: the victims were not selected at random, there is a link between them. Had she found it? Did she have enough to go to the police?

She drove down the hill, noticing Harry’s car outside the Fletchers’ house. A few seconds later she parked. Ignoring Gillian’s flat, she went to the door of the newsagent’s beneath it. The shop was in darkness. She banged on the door. Was there a bell? Yes, up there in the top left corner. She pressed it for five seconds, waited a second, then pressed it again. At the back of the shop, a door opened. Lights flickered on and someone was coming towards her. Let it be – yes, it was the woman she’d spoken to yesterday.

‘We’re closed.’

‘I need to ask you something,’ said Evi. ‘I was here yesterday, do you remember? I was trying to find Gillian?’

‘I’m not her keeper, you know.’ The woman was in her sixties, plump, short, with straight grey hair.

‘You told me you’d seen her catching a bus,’ said Evi. ‘Do you remember?’

‘I may have done,’ the woman said, folding her arms across her chest.

‘Did you see which bus she caught? Where it was going to?’

‘What is this,
Crimewatch?
’ The woman’s face fell. ‘It’s nothing to do with that lad, is it?’

‘It might be.’ Evi was desperate. ‘Please, if you can remember, it’s really important.’

‘It wasn’t one of those Witch Way buses,’ the woman said, her bolshie attitude gone. ‘They’re black and red, aren’t they?’

‘I think so,’ said Evi, although she never travelled by bus.

‘Green, that was it. I remember now, because I saw Elsie Miller getting on it and realized she must be going for her monthly hospital check.’

‘And the green buses go to …?’

‘Past the hospital, dropping off in the town centre.’

‘Which town centre?’

‘Blackburn, of course.’

‘D
EAD TO THE WORLD,’
SAID JENNY,
WALKING INTO THE
kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, one hand on her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, that was an incredibly stupid thing to say.’

Gareth glanced at his wife. Alice didn’t seem to have heard. ‘We know what you mean,’ he said. ‘They’re both exhausted. Tom walked as far as I did today. And I don’t think Millie’s ever had as much fresh air. Do I need to check the oven, Jenny?’

‘Oh, let me.’ Jenny squeezed her way behind Harry and bent down in front of the Fletchers’ range oven. She opened the door an inch and steam poured out into the kitchen. The smell of cooking meat filled the air and Harry realized he was hungry.

Alice stood up. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ she announced, before turning and disappearing through the back door.

Wondering if he were quite so hungry after all, Harry watched as Gareth turned his back on the room and stared outside. The darkness was complete. Harry looked at his watch, more out of habit than anything. He’d long since given up expecting Evi. When he raised his head again, Gareth had turned back to face the room.

‘Jenny, Mike will be forgetting what you look like,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you don’t need to …?’ He left the question hanging. Harry wondered if Gareth wanted Jenny to leave, if he wanted them both to leave. Friends were no use to the Fletchers right now. They couldn’t help, they could only get in the way.

‘I will just nip back,’ said Jenny. ‘We’re staying with Dad tonight so we can get an early start in the morning.’ She looked from Harry to Gareth. ‘They’ll all be back,’ she said. ‘Mike and all the men. Everyone. We won’t give up.’

‘Thanks, Jenny,’ said Gareth. ‘But I think we know by now he isn’t here.’

Harry stood up to see Jenny out. ‘I’ll try and pop back later,’ she said in a soft voice as they stood in the doorway. ‘Just to check. Dinner’ll be five minutes. Make sure they eat.’

He closed the front door and leaned against it. He should go too, he was useless here. At least Jenny had provided food. Nobody would eat it, but she was doing something. Then he heard a noise outside. A car had drawn up, followed closely by a second. Two figures climbed out of the vehicles and approached the front door. He got ready to open it, expecting journalists. What was he supposed to say again? The family are holding up well. They’re grateful for everyone’s support. Please continue to pray for …

Brian Rushton stood on the doorstep, the shoulders of his coat damp with snowflakes. At his side, paler than he’d ever seen her, was Evi.

‘No!’

All heads turned to see Alice in the kitchen doorway. ‘No,’ she said again. Realizing what she was thinking, what the visit from Rushton and Evi probably meant, Harry felt his skin glowing hot.

‘Alice, don’t …’ said Evi.

Rushton was inside the house, shaking the snow off his shoes, steering Harry out of the way, striding towards Alice. ‘Steady down, lass,’ he was saying. ‘We’re not here to give you bad news. News, yes, but not bad news, so just take it easy. Come on, come and sit down.’

‘What?’ Harry mouthed the single word at Evi. Giving him a look he couldn’t interpret, she banged her heels against the doorframe to get rid of the snow and then set off after Rushton and Alice. Harry closed the door and followed them.

‘Let’s all sit down,’ said Rushton. Harry was about to take the last seat next to Evi when he caught her eye. She looked ill. He turned to the sink and ran a glass of water, handing it over without comment. She drank half of it down.

‘Dr Oliver phoned me just over an hour ago,’ said Rushton. ‘We may have made a breakthrough.’

‘You found Ebba?’ asked Harry, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Evi.

She shook her head. ‘That’s not what this is about.’ She looked at Rushton. ‘Do you want to …?’ she asked.

‘No, you go ahead, lass. You explained it very well to me just now.’

Evi’s hands were trembling, she seemed to be making a huge effort. ‘Last night I went to see a colleague,’ she said. ‘He’s had some forensic experience so I wanted to know what he made of everything.’ She paused and took another sip of water. She swallowed and a grimace of pain shot across her face, as though she had something in her throat.

‘Steve made me see that we’re looking for two people,’ she continued. ‘First, this Ebba person, who we think has some idea what’s been going on and who, in her own way, has been trying to warn you. But because she can only really relate to the children and because she frightens Tom, she hasn’t had much success.’ She turned to look at Harry. ‘You already know she hangs around the church. I think she’s responsible for the blood in the chalice that day and for the effigy of Millie that you found. I think she’s been trying to tell you what happens in the church. About the very real risk to Millie.’

Harry sensed Gareth and Alice share a look. He couldn’t remember how much they knew about the weird events in church. He saw Gareth opening his mouth to speak and his wife hushing him.

‘Most importantly,’ said Evi, ‘we’re looking for the person who’s been abducting and killing the little girls. Now, Steve made me see that it’s all linked. The church is important, but so is the town itself. It’s not coincidence that all the victims come from this town. Whoever the abductor is, he or she has a connection with all of them. They were chosen for a reason. I didn’t find Ebba today, but I may have found the link.’

‘And what’s that?’ asked Gareth.

‘Not what,’ said Evi. ‘Who. I think the link is Gillian.’

Tom was awake. Had he been asleep? He thought perhaps he had but he wasn’t sure. Whose bed was he in? Joe’s. The canopy of his own bunk was several feet above his head. There was light in the
corridor, and he could hear voices in the kitchen downstairs. Not that late then. Better go back to sleep. Sleep was a world in which Joe was still OK.

A sudden rattling sound. He sat up. That was what had woken him. A series of sharp, clear taps. Someone was throwing stones at the window.

Joe! Joe was back and trying to get in. Tom sprang out of bed and ran across the room. The curtains were drawn. The fabric was rough against his face and he could feel the draught from outside. ‘Joe,’ he whispered.

He could still hear voices downstairs. Harry’s was the loudest, the most distinct. He could hear a woman’s voice too, much softer and quieter. Not his mum though, someone with an English accent. It could be Jenny, she’d been here earlier. Should he call for his parents, tell them he thought Joe was outside, throwing stones up at the window?

But could he do that to his mum? Make her hope Joe was back when really it was just tree branches scraping against the window?

There were no trees anywhere near Tom’s bedroom window.

He put both hands on the curtains and got ready to pull them an inch or two apart. Just far enough to see what was out there. An inch. Nothing but blackness. Two inches. Three.

The girl was in the garden behind the house, staring up at him.

In the kitchen silence fell. Then Gareth pushed himself to his feet. Rushton held up one hand. ‘Mrs Royle should be on her way to headquarters by now,’ he said, looking at his watch. ‘I’m just waiting for a call from DI Neasden to tell me she’s safely in custody. We won’t be able to interview her until the duty psychiatrist is in attendance, but at least we know she won’t be able to harm the lad.’

‘Gillian?’ said Alice. ‘Hayley was her daughter.’

‘She wouldn’t be the first mother to kill her own child,’ answered Rushton. ‘Not by a long shot. To be honest, I was sceptical myself when Dr Oliver called. I’m still not 100 per cent convinced, but there are enough questions that need answering.’ He nodded at Evi. ‘Go on, lass,’ he said, ‘you’ll tell it better than I will.

Evi dropped her eyes to the table, then looked up again. ‘I’ve been worried about Gillian for a while,’ she said, and the words seemed
to come out of her reluctantly, as though, even now, she found it hard to break a patient’s confidence. ‘I knew there was a lot she wasn’t telling me, and I also knew there was more going on in her head than grief. I’ve suspected childhood abuse from a number of things she’s said and the behaviour she exhibits, but the first really worrying sign for me was finding out she’d lied about the manner of Hayley’s death. She told me and others that Hayley’s body wasn’t found, that it just disappeared in the fire. That wasn’t true. The firemen found remains.’