"What?"
"You have to let it go, all of it. All the guilt."
She wrestled her hand free, moving back sharply as if stung. Beth grabbed her bag and raced for the door.
"Sarah's happy," said the man plainly.
She closed her eyes and opened them again, looking back at him. "What... what did you just say?"
"You heard me."
The doctor was gazing at him in disbelief. "You... you can't..."
He turned away from her. "I'll see you again."
Beth yanked open the door and virtually walked into the PC who was standing guard there. She motioned for him to lock the cell again.
"Are you all right, Dr Preston?" he asked her.
But she didn't hear him. She was looking through the slit in the door, watching the man in there as he held up a toy car and stared at it.
"Dr Preston?" His fingertips brushed her arm and she jumped back. "I'm sorry."
"Take me to Robbins," she said. "Take me to your DCI right now."
~
For the third time that day there was a knock on the door.
This time it was PC Valentine who answered it, welcoming in the visitor Mrs. Daley had called at his suggestion.
"Is there anybody who could sit with you? Anybody you could ring?" said the black policeman once he'd finished taking her statement----a statement that made about as much sense as the rest of that morning's events.
Mrs. Daley had nodded, and he'd handed her the cordless phone.
Now he was here, standing at her door. And just as the dark uniform that Valentine wore betrayed his profession, so too did the dark shirt and suit that this man had on. But the most significant piece of attire was the dog collar at his neck.
"Father Lilley?" asked Valentine of the priest who was only marginally younger than Mrs. Daley herself.
He bowed his head in greeting. "Where's Irene... Mrs. Daley?"
"Through here." Valentine took him to the dining room; he hadn't been able to get her back into the living room at all. She was sitting at a small round table with her hands clasped together, bible to the right of them.
"Thank you, my son," said Lilley to the PC, noticing the woman flinch at those last two words. Then she got up and fell into the priest's arms.
"Oh father, I'm so pleased to see you."
"There, there," said Lilley, patting her back. "Whatever's the matter, Irene? I couldn't make head nor tail of your call." He looked to Valentine for an answer, but he was asking the wrong person.
"Some... something terrible. Matthew..."
The priest's expression changed and he cut short the embrace. "Matthew? I don't understand. I thought you'd had an intruder?"
"She did," Valentine reported, "of a kind."
"He... he looked just like Matthew, Father," Irene added.
It seemed like Lilley didn't know what to say, then he talked slowly as if to a child. "Irene, haven't we talked about this before? Matthew's gone. He is with Our Savior the Lord where he has found his peace. 'His kingdom isan everlasting kingdom, and his dominion isfrom generation to generation.' The Book of Daniel, Chapter Four, Verse Three. Matthew wouldn't want you upsetting yourself like this, now, would he?"
"He said he wasMatthew."
"The man in your house?"
She nodded.
"Said Arnold would have listened, would have believed him."
"Irene, Matthew's no longer with us. I buried him myself."
He saw that she remembered all too well that day: the angry clouds had gathered as if in sympathy, looking down at the patch of grass behind the church. A group of mourners, dressed in black, standing around the hole in the ground as the perfectly polished coffin with the brass handles was lowered into it.
Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
Irene had broken down on that day too. At one point he thought she might even stagger forward and follow the coffin into the ground. But instead she had held back, tears pouring from her eyes for a son who had been taken prematurely.
"Officer, who was this man?" Lilley asked Valentine.
"That's what we're trying to find out, Father. But he's insistent that he's Matthew Daley."
"That's impossible."
"I know," said the PC, a little offended that he had to explain that to the priest.
"I'd like to see him," said Lilley.
"Perhaps, in time," Valentine told him. "But for now..." He nodded towards Irene. "I think Mrs. Daley needs you here."
The priest's eyes flashed momentarily, as if he didn't like being told his job. Then the kindness returned to them and he said, "Of course." He led his charge back to her seat, pulling out the chair nearest to her for himself. "Don't worry, Irene. I'm sure this will all be sorted out soon. Everything that happens is according to God's design and purpose, even if we can't see it at the time. 'Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.' Proverbs Chapter Three, Verses Five to Six." He held her hand in his and patted it. "Trust in the Lord, Irene, and He will show you the way."
~
"I don't like being hung out to dry, Steve."
Dr. Bethany Preston paced up and down in DCI Robbins' office, arms folded. He was sitting back behind his desk, watching her, like a member of the audience at Wimbledon.
"I wasn't hanging anyone anywhere," he said, after telling her repeatedly to calm down. He'd never seen her so agitated.
"You deliberately withheld information from me about that prisoner, didn't you?" As she said this last bit she jabbed her finger in his direction.
"I didn't want you walking into there with any preconceptions. Besides, you never asked."
Becky threw her hands up in the air. "And what exactly was I supposed to ask... oh and excuse me, but by any chance was this guy picked up for impersonating a dead man?"
"I told you everything you needed to know at the time."
"Bullshit. You told me he was a weird one, that he might be on something, and to try and get him talking if I could."
"You've done it before. You have a good... bedside manner."
"People tell me things, Steve. They trust me. I don't abuse that trust. Unlike some." Now she was standing with her hands on her hips.
"Let's not make this personal again, Beth."
"If I recall rightly, it was you who made things... 'personal' the last time."
He winced at that remark. "No need to dig up the past. What exactly did he say to you in there? What's really got you like this?" Robbins rose from his chair and leant against his desk.
She avoided his eyes. "Nothing."
"I don't believe you."
Beth raised her head, but her eyes were far from warm. "Your prerogative. But you're right about one thing."
"What's that?"
"He is a weird one. In fact, in all my years as a Doctor, and the last few years working for you lot, I don't think I've ever come across anyone quite like him."
Robbins folded his arms now. "No, me either. But he isn't Matthew Daley."
"You sound very sure of that."
"Oh come on, Beth. You've seen the photos and the report now, what that fucker did to him. It's just not possible. He was dead by the time they loaded him into the ambulance. The paramedics called it on the way to Accident and Emergency. They buried him for Christ's sake."
Beth rubbed her forehead. "I should be going," she said.
"Wait."
"Look, you want me to test the blood, Steve, I'll test it." She picked up her bag and left, shutting the door behind her.