The Look of Love (27 page)

Victoria ran
her hands through her tangled and frizzed hair. Then she rested her
hands on her head. “My scalp aches,” she muttered, somewhat
surprised.

Rosanna put the
damp cloth down and picked up her mug. “That’s because you were
pulling on your hair so hard. You shouldn’t do that. You’ve got
such nice hair.”

Victoria
yawned. “I bet it looks a mess.” She reached for her own mug and
took a sip. She was beginning to look dazed.

Louise suddenly
stood up. “I’ll get your brush,” she said, and disappeared into
Victoria’s bedroom.

Rosanna watched
Victoria as she sipped her coffee. “Have you always had long hair?”
she asked.

Victoria
nodded. “Ever since I was a little girl. Daddy always liked me to
have long hair. He used to call me his little dolly.”

“He must have
loved you a lot. I bet you were a very pretty little girl.”

“Oh, yes, very
pretty. And daddy loved his little dolly lots and lots.”

There was a
heavy hint of sarcasm in Victoria’s voice and it made Rosanna
pause. Louise had been on her way back with a brush in her hand,
but now she also stopped, frozen to the spot as Victoria put down
her mug and reached up to her hair, pulling it into two long
pigtails on either side of her head. She swayed a little as she
held them like that, and waved them about.

“I used to have
ribbons in my hair,” she went on, her voice growing softer and
sleepier with every word. Her eyes held a faraway look, as if she
was seeing herself as she was then, when she was little. “Bright
red or yellow ribbons. He used to like it best like that. I would
try to hide if I knew he was looking for me. But he would always
find me and catch me. I would cry, but he would smile at me and
hold my pigtails in each hand. I would try and get away, but he
would pull me closer and closer.”

She put on a
very false babyish voice. “‘Daddy wants to play with his little
dolly’, he would say. I knew what he wanted. Sometimes I wouldn’t
want to do it, but he would make me do it. He would hold onto my
pigtails, pulling me closer, until it was in my face and I couldn’t
avoid it. Then he would make me do it. ‘Be a good girl. Be daddy’s
little dolly. You know you like it too.’” Victoria’s voice grew
harsh. “Daddy’s little dolly. Ha! Daddy’s little whore, more
like!”

Her face grew
ugly, and in a moment of anger she snatched up the scissors from
the first aid kit on the table, and before Rosanna could stop her,
she had cut off one of the false pigtails.

As soon as the
pigtail was cut loose, Victoria stared at it in surprise. “Oh,
bollocks,” she muttered. “Now look what I’ve gone and done…”

Rosanna took
the scissors from her limp hand. “It’s alright, love, don’t worry
about it.” Her eyes were filled with tears as she put her arm
around Victoria and stroked her uneven hair. “It doesn’t matter,
love. Nothing matters anymore.”

Victoria stared
up at Rosanna. “But Louise will kill me.”

Hearing her
name spoken spurred Louise into motion at last, and she came
forward and sat down next to Victoria, quickly putting her arms
around her, and kissing her cheek. “It’s alright, Vikki. I’m not
upset at all, honestly I’m not. We’ll sort it out. Don’t worry
about it. We’ll fix it. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She tried to be
encouraging, but she was openly crying, and her voice kept
faltering.

Victoria didn’t
seem to notice anything. She looked down at the pigtail in her
hand, her eyes blinking. “But it’s ruined,” she said. “I’ve made a
mess of myself again.” She yawned heavily, then looked up at Louise
and Rosanna, and saw the expressions on their faces and the tears
in their eyes. All of a sudden she seemed to realise what she had
been saying, and a look of horror came over her face.

“You won’t tell
anyone will you?” she pleaded grabbing both Louise and Rosanna.
“Oh, please don’t tell anyone! I didn’t mean to tell you! I feel so
fuzzy…Oh, what was I thinking? You mustn’t say a word about this!
You mustn’t! It’s a secret! It was always a secret!”

Louise fussed
over her, hugging and kissing her. “We won’t tell a soul! It’s
alright, Vikki! Don’t worry about it!”

But Rosanna was
now furious. “The bastard shouldn’t get away with it!” she said.
“Tormenting a poor little girl like that! His own daughter, too!
It’s an outrage! It’s disgusting what he made you do! You have to
tell the police!”

“No!” Victoria
almost screamed. “You mustn’t say anything! You mustn’t! They’ll
lock me up! They’ll punish me!”

“But it wasn’t
your fault!” Rosanna told her. “It was him! He was the evil one,
not you!”

“But I killed
him!”

Victoria’s
words were like a bomb-shell. It stunned them both into silence.
Victoria looked at their shocked faces, her hand trembling as she
rubbed at her face, trying to stem the tiredness that was
overcoming her.

“I told Zach,”
she said almost in a whisper. “I met him at a pub one night. He got
me drunk and I told him. I told him how daddy kept coming into my
room at night, how he never stopped, even when I was older. He told
me he would fix it for me. He told me he would stop my daddy from
doing it anymore. The next day Zach and two other boys beat my
daddy up when he was coming home from the pub. They hit him with
base-ball bats. It took him ages to recover. He was never the same
after that, and he never bothered me again. He wouldn’t even look
at me.”

Louise tried to
come to terms with what Victoria was saying. She had known that
something had been going on between Victoria and her father ever
since they made love on the first night. But she had only suspected
the truth. Having it thrust into the open like this was too much to
take in. And every moment it seemed to be getting worse. Would
there ever be an end to the shocks of this day? She couldn’t think
of anything to say. But Rosanna did.

“Why weren’t
the police involved?” she wanted to know. “Didn’t this Zach get
arrested?”

“No.” Victoria
shook her head in an exaggerated fashion. “Zach had told him you
see. Zach had told daddy that he knew, and that if he did it again
he would get worse. And he told him that if he said anything to the
police, they would tell them what he had been doing to me. Because
of that daddy never told the police anything. He said he didn’t see
who hit him. And less than a year later, he died.”

Louise found
her voice at last. “But that wasn’t your fault!” she blurted
out.

Victoria rubbed
hard at her temples. “Yes it was!” she snarled in irritation. “It
was like Rosie said before! People make their own choices, but
beating up my daddy wasn’t just Zach’s idea! When he told me he
could fix it I begged him to do it! I told him to hit my daddy
hard! I was drunk and angry! ‘Make him pay!’ I told him! They broke
daddy’s skull! That’s why he never recovered, that’s why he died!
They did it, but I was the cause! I made it happen! I killed my
daddy!”

Louise hugged
Victoria even tighter. “No one could blame you for what happened,
not after what your father had been doing to you!”

And Rosanna
added, “Your father was evil. I don’t feel sorry for him at all. He
deserved it. How long was he doing this to you?”

Victoria looked
ashamed when she answered. “It started when I was seven and it
didn’t stop until I met Zach two years ago. By then he wasn’t doing
it as much as he had been when I was younger. Once I got older I
could get away from him more often. I would sleep over at Chrissy’s
house, or just stay out late at night. But every so often he would
still come into my room at night and catch me.”

“But couldn’t
you fight him off?” Rosanna asked. “Didn’t your mother help?”

“No. I was
always frightened that mummy would hear us fighting. Daddy kept
saying that we had to keep it a secret from her or she would be
upset with me. He said that mummy would blame me for it. He said
that she would call me a dirty little slut and throw me out. I
believed him.”

“Rubbish!”
Rosanna exclaimed. “No mother worth having would have taken his
side!”

“But he was
right!” Victoria shouted out. The tears welled up in her eyes as
she went on emotionally, “Mummy blamed me for daddy’s death at the
funeral! We were at the cemetery when she started shouting at me!
She said it was
all my fault
, that I had stolen daddy away
from her, and that I had got him killed! She must have known what
daddy and I were doing all along! She must have known for years! I
never even suspected it! She shouted and screamed at me! She kept
blaming me! I shouted back, ‘Why didn’t you stop him?’ And she
said, ‘Because I didn’t want to lose him!’ She put him before me! I
used to love my mummy, but after that I hated her! She’d known, and
she had never said or done anything to help me!

“We started
fighting. Can you picture it? The coffin being lowered into the
ground and me and mummy pulling at each other’s hair, falling in
the dirt, scratching and biting! We fell in the hole and landed on
the coffin! The priest didn’t know what to do! They should have
buried us both with him!”

As Louise and
Rosanna both sat in shock, imagining the scene Victoria had
described, she suddenly stood up. “I need a drink,” she announced
as she swayed on her feet. “I need to drink ‘till I drop! I want to
get as drunk as a friggin’ skunk! I want to stew my brain until I
forget everything! I want a drink!”

She swayed even
more, then her eyes rolled up in her head and she fell over,
landing flat on the kitchen floor. Louise and Rosanna rushed to
help her. She looked completely confused and disorientated.

Rosanna looked
across at Louise’s worried face as they both picked her up. “Come
on, let’s get her to bed. Let her sleep it off.”

They carried
her to the bedroom. She seemed to be only half awake. “Gosh,” she
gasped. “I feel half pissed already, and I can’t even remember
having a drink yet!”

By the time
they finished undressing her and putting her to bed, the sedative
had done its worst and Victoria was already asleep. Louise stood
over her, watching her breathing evenly. Rosanna had to pull her
away, and as soon as they were outside, Louise fell into Rosanna’s
arms and burst into tears.

Detective
Sergeant Connors looked over the statements Shawcroft had obtained.
Shawcroft sat opposite him. He was reading the Coroner’s Report
Connors had handed to him. When Shawcroft had finished reading the
report, he put it down on the desk and stood up.

“Well, that
settles it,” he said going to stare out of the window.

“You’re talking
about the time of death?” Connors asked without looking up. He was
still reading the statements.

Shawcroft
nodded. “If she was killed between three and four am, that puts Max
in the clear and Scott becomes our killer. But why did he do
it?”

Connors put
down the statements and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet
up on his desk. “Anger!”

Shawcroft
turned his back to the window and leaned against the sill. “I know;
it’s the key. You keep telling me. But why would Scott be angry
enough to snap the neck of his brother’s girlfriend? It doesn’t
really make sense.”

“That’s if it
was Scott.”

“You still
think it’s Max? Even after what the Coroner’s Report says?”

“If it doesn’t
make sense, then there’s something wrong.” Connors pointed to the
statements on his desk. “These all tie up with what Scott and Max
Headly told us, at least about the early part of the night.
Obviously this Kenyon girl was a catalyst in the group, a
destructive force that split them all up. It doesn’t matter why she
did it, but what does matter is that everything they told us about
that part of the night makes sense. It’s only later that things
don’t add up.” Connors began counting off the points on his
fingers.

“One, Joanne
dumped Max, giving him a reason to be angry with her. Two, the time
of death puts Max in the clear if he got home when he did. Three,
Scott was unaccounted for on his way home from the restaurant in
Rusholme at exactly the time when Joanne was killed. Four, Scott
had been rejected by Chrissy Davis, but was this enough to make him
take it out on Joanne? Do you notice anything obvious?”

Shawcroft
stared at Connors in sudden realisation. “Swap Scott and Max around
and it makes sense!”

Connors held up
his finger. “Exactly. But that only works if Mr and Mrs Headly only
heard
one of their sons arrive home early, and didn’t
actually
see
him.”

“But they said
it was Max.”

“They did. And
both Max and Scott confirmed that. So maybe I’m totally wrong.
Because if I’m right, Scott is putting himself in the firing line
for his brother. Very unselfish of him, but also very foolish. So
why would he do that?”

Shawcroft
sighed. “We’re back where we started.” Then another thought
occurred to him. “What about Miss Taylor’s statement about the
other boy?” he asked. “It could be him.”

“I’ll admit
that it could be this other boy, this Mike. But you have to
remember the results of the post mortem. Joanne’s neck was snapped
as the result of what can only be described as whip-lash. It wasn’t
a brutal attack. Her killer didn’t intend to harm her. The bruises
on her arm show how tightly he held her, but there were no others.
No, he was filled with emotion and pent-up frustration, and he
shook her violently, and because she was lightly built and too
drunk and limp to withstand it, her neck broke. Anger! Why would
this boy be that angry with a girl he just met to shake her that
violently? And according to Miss Taylor, they were both getting on
very well.”

“You think he’s
unconnected with her death?”