‘Yes. Yes, I did.’ Jac looked down slightly, as if he was somehow ashamed of sharing that knowledge.
‘And did Larry himself tell you about that?’
‘No. It was Rodriguez again.’
Some of the fire eased and the sly smile was back. ‘At least he’s consistent. The Stone Mountain remains close-mouthed till the end. He might have found God, but he’s certainly not found his tongue.’
‘I know how you must feel, Mrs Durrant. And you’ve got every right to feel angry for what he did, and the consequences that you and Joshua have had to endure.’ Jac felt immediately at a loss for just how to fight back. All he could think of was placating so that at least she was more receptive when he finally found the right words. He glanced quickly at his watch: only six or eight minutes before her partner was due back. ‘But the thing is, I…’ Jac broke off as she looked sharply over her shoulder, and he too picked up on a faint shuffling in the hallway in that instant. She’d packed Joshua off to his room when Jac first arrived with the strict instruction not to disturb them. Either the boy had come out of his room or her partner was home early.
‘Joshua, is that you there?’ she called out.
They heard more shuffling that sounded as if someone was moving further away along the hallway. Then, ‘Yes… I was just getting a drink from the kitchen.’
‘Okay. Well, you head back to your room now. Leave us private like I said.’
She waited patiently until she heard his footsteps fully recede and his bedroom door click shut again. But as she looked back at Jac, her face was slightly flushed, and he could imagine what she was thinking: how long had the boy been close by in the hallway, and had he overheard any of their conversation?
The momentary break had allowed Jac’s thoughts to gel as he recalled Rodriguez’ words: ‘In fact, he sees most of this in here as punishment for having broken that solemn promise. Retribution and all that Bible stuff he got into later on.’
Jac shook his head. ‘As I was about to comment, Mrs Durrant, I find it ironic that you should mention that promise. Because that’s one of the main reasons Rodriguez puts forward for Larry wanting to die: guilt over having let you and Josh down.’
‘Oh. I see.’ She let the words out on a heavy breath.
Jac could see that she’d taken the information badly. One of the main arguments behind her not helping now completely turned around as a cry for help: her husband wanting to die because of guilt over the promise he’d made to her and Joshua, and now she was ensuring he succeeded in that by cutting off further contact with his son.
‘Rodriguez said that when the e-mails started coming through from Joshua, he saw the change in your husband. Some hope and light in him that just hadn’t been there before.’
‘Rodriguez again?’ Francine nodded, but now the comment had lost any of its bite and was more of a knowing confirmation than a question.
‘Yes. Hope and light that maybe with that contact, your husband would be able to face the years ahead. And not just because it felt good to have continuing contact with the boy and gave him some future purpose — but because Larry saw the e-mails as some sort of proof that his son had forgiven him for breaking his promise and letting him down. Deserting him through all those years.’
Francine visibly shuddered as she put one hand up to her mouth and closed her eyes for a second. Jac noticed as she opened them again the tears welling, and she held the same hand out as if to shield them as she shook her head.
‘Please, Mr McElroy… don’t say any more. Believe me, I’ve got the picture.’ She wiped at her eyes with the back of one hand. ‘And if I could help, I would. But I’m afraid, Mr McElroy. Frank’s a good man, and I don’t want to lose him over this.’
Jac held one hand out. ‘But surely if you explained to him the situation, as difficult as it might be, in the end he’d understand.’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. Worst thing is, I’d probably never know — not, that is, until he just upped one morning and left. Said that he couldn’t “cope” with me and Josh any more. Because that’s what happened with my last partner.’ She shook her head wearily. ‘And I just can’t afford to have that happen again now with Frank.’
‘I see.’
‘Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.’ She shrugged again and smiled tightly. ‘Do you know what I earn, Mr McElroy?’
‘What?’ Jac was caught off-guard, bemused as to what that had to do with anything.
‘Barely thirty bucks a day at the shoe shop where I work. Mainly because I leave at four most days to collect Josh from school. And I only got that job because the shop’s owner was friend of a friend. “Lucky” to get the job with such kindly hours I was told at the time, and don’t I know it — or, if I ever get close to forgetting, when things aren’t going so smoothly, I’ll get reminded of it by the manager. Well, apart from the fact that Frank’s a good man and been good to me and Josh, without him we just couldn’t manage on my wage. And it seems at times as if I’m just hanging on to that job by the skin of my teeth. “Taken on” is the expression oft used. “Lucky to get taken on”.’ Francine shook her head and fixed her eyes levelly on Jac. ‘And it’s pretty much the same expression used when a man “takes on” a woman of my age with a child in tow. Particularly one still married to the father of that child — let alone that he might be on death row for murder.’
‘I see. I understand.’ And for the first time since arriving, as much as it went directly against what he was there for, he did see and understand.
‘I’m sorry, Mr McElroy. But you can see the dilemma I’m facing. If I went against Frank over this and got young Josh to…’ Her voice trailed off as, with a jolt, she looked towards the clock on the far wall. The mention of Frank reminded her that she’d got more carried away with explaining than she’d realized. Frank was due back at any minute. ‘I… I think we’ll have to leave things there, Mr McElroy.’
He fired a tight but understanding smile as he got to his feet, then handed her his card as they walked towards the front door. ‘If you should happen to have a change of heart, please call me. Please.’
Jac clasped her hand gently and felt it shaking slightly. But she hardly looked at the card in her hand, or at him — her eyes were busy darting between the front door and a side window which gave a partial view towards the road.
They said a hasty goodbye and Jac gave a small wave just before he got into his car towards Francine Durrant, who was still looking through a six-inch gap in the front door. She was obviously anxious for Jac to be clear of the house before Frank got there, so that she didn’t have to explain anything. But at least Jac now had a better understanding of her fears. As pitiful as it might be, she was simply clinging to the remnants of life left after her husband’s long years in prison: a badly paid job and what she saw as her last chance at a relationship.
When he was a block away from Francine Durrant’s house, he checked his cell-phone and saw that Haveling had called, but hadn’t left a message. Good news or bad? Marmont’s condition improved, or Marmont dead? Haveling rejecting or accepting Durrant’s account?
Jac pulled over to the side of the road and eased out a slow, tired breath as he dialled Haveling’s number. But it hardly mattered any more, he reminded himself: if he couldn’t shift Francine Durrant’s stance, the whole case was dead anyway.
10
Nel-M had spent the last few hours watching an apartment.