Jessie tried to ignore the pain, thought. ‘So … what? They were angry?’
‘Oh, very angry. Very, very angry.’
‘Are you saying they killed their father?’
‘And their stepmother.’
‘And … what? Blamed Stuart Sloane? How could they have done that?’
Jessie heard a laugh in the darkness. ‘They had help. Help that turned on them.’
‘Why?’
‘That was later … ’ Her voice was drifting.
Jessie was worried the woman would become hysterical. She tried to keep her talking, keep her focused. ‘Who helped them, Helen?’
‘Graham.’
‘Graham Watts?’
‘And Jeff. Because Jeff did anything Graham said. But Graham was the one. He arranged it with Michael. He was on hand after the shooting. His job was to give the shotgun to Stuart. Let the retard take the blame, that’s what Michael said. Stuart wasn’t all there. Suggestible. Graham won Stuart’s trust, told Stuart he would help him. Then hung him out to dry.’ She gave out a noise that could have been anything between a laugh and a sob in the darkness. ‘But really Graham was making sure Stuart had the gun when the police arrived. And that was that. Or it should have been.’
‘What happened?’
‘With Jack out of the way, we all made a lot of money. The Sloanes, the Hibberts and Graham. Good times. Then it all went wrong.’
‘How?’
‘Because Michael had his own plans. And Graham didn’t like them.’
‘What does that mean?’
Helen Hibbert sighed. ‘I’m tired … ’ Her voice was beginning to tremble.
Jessie kept questioning her but she would say no more. She tried to think of something positive she could do to head off Helen Hibbert’s breakdown. She felt inside her jacket for her phone. Missing. Of course. ‘They’ve taken my phone,’ she said. ‘Anyone else got one?’
Helen Hibbert just sobbed.
Then came a sudden light. Jessie saw Deepak’s face illuminated in the darkness. Like a disembodied spectre, floating before her. She saw him smile.
‘Still think I’m stupid for carrying two phones, ma’am?’ he said.
Jessie smiled also. ‘Did I say stupid? No, you heard me wrong. Brilliant. That’s what I said, Deepak, brilliant.’
95
Marina stared at him, trying to read him. Couldn’t. She didn’t know if that was because of him or because of herself.
Franks had made the introductions, careful not to mention Marina’s connection with Josephina, then read him his rights. He had nodded along as he did so, answered when asked to and refused a solicitor. The only stumbling point had been his name.
‘Stuart Sloane?’
He had shaken his head. ‘No. Not that. No.’
Franks and Marina had shared a look. ‘What would you like us to call you, then?’
He put his head back, seemed to be thinking. ‘They said I was going to be a new man. Have a new life with a new name. They gave me a new name.’
‘And what is it?’ Franks was almost smiling, being patient.
‘Malcolm Tyrell.’
‘Right. OK. Malcolm it is.’
‘But I don’t want to be called that.’
Franks struggled not to show exasperation. ‘So how would you like us to address you?’
Marina picked up the undercurrent to his question. She was left in no doubt how Franks wanted to address him.
‘Just … Stuart.’
‘Stuart.’
‘For now.’
Franks bit back his reply. ‘Good. Then let’s get going.’ He gave a sideways glance towards Marina, raised an eyebrow slightly. She knew what it meant: did she want to start the questioning? She gave a slight shake of the head. Let Franks lead.
She could have done this through the two-way mirror. Watched from the observation room, guided Franks through an earpiece. That was how she usually worked with Phil. But this was different. She wanted to be in there, alongside Franks, working up close with him. It felt right, under the circumstances.
She stared, again trying to read Stuart. Again, she couldn’t. He seemed to be pleased about something yet at the same time worried. And the two seemed bound together. She didn’t yet know what that meant, so she thought it would be best if Franks started and she could make an assessment as they went.
‘So, Stuart. Let’s start with the most important question. Where’s Josephina?’
Stuart’s eyes clouded over, brow furrowed, mouth turned down at the edges. He seemed to go into himself.
‘Stuart?’ Franks leaned forward, keeping his face open, his features as neutral as possible. ‘Where’s Josephina?’
‘I … I don’t know.’
Marina sat back, trying not to let her frustration show. She wondered, again, whether she couldn’t read him because of what was going on inside her own mind rather than his. She was trying to be as professional and detached as possible and finding it more difficult that she had expected. Perhaps Franks was right, she thought; perhaps she should have just gone home.
‘Come on, Stuart, you can do better than that,’ Franks said. ‘Where’s Josephina?’
‘I … I don’t know. Honest.’ He looked like he was about to cry.
The other two waited.
Stuart spoke again. ‘I was … was trying to protect her … ’
‘By holding a gun on her?’ said Marina. ‘Looked like it.’
Franks shot her a look, but she already knew she had said the wrong thing, allowed her emotions to get the better of her. She fell silent.
But Stuart didn’t seem to have noticed. ‘No, no … ’ he said. ‘I was protecting her. All the time, I was protecting her. When … when Amy was … ’ his face twisted up, ‘not nice to her, to me — I would protect her.’ His eyes became downcast. ‘And then when we got to the, the barn place … ’ He sighed, shook his head. ‘She … she gave me the gun. Said, said … said she would hurt Josephina if I didn’t do what I was told.’
‘Hold the gun to her head?’ said Franks.
Stuart nodded. ‘So, yes. I did it … to protect her.’
Franks was about to ask another question, but Stuart keep talking.
‘Amy made me. Amy. I hated her. She was … horrible. The other one, Jiminy Cricket … ’
Marina’s eyes widened at his words.
‘ … he was nice. I liked him. Or at first I liked him.’
‘What happened?’ asked Franks.
‘He met me out of prison. Took me to the caravan. Told me I was going to have a new life. And he was all nice about it.’ Stuart smiled. Then his face darkened once more. ‘Then I saw Josephina. Tied up. And … ’ He shuddered. ‘Amy wasn’t being very nice to her.’
Marina’s stomach was turning over. ‘In what way, Stuart?’ Her voice was calm, quiet, like an oncoming storm.
‘She … had her tied to the door handle. Said, said if she didn’t shut up, she would … ’ He shook his head.
‘Go on,’ said Marina.
‘ … said she would throw her to the dogs.’
Marina remembered the two dead dogs and was suddenly thankful for whoever had killed them.
‘And I didn’t like that. No.’ Another shake of the head. ‘No. So when we had to leave the house, when Jiminy got … ’
‘Killed,’ said Franks.
Stuart nodded. ‘ … we went … I don’t know where we went. But then Amy went mad. Even madder. And I said, I said I wouldn’t do anything unless she was kind to Josephina. Told her she mustn’t harm her or I wouldn’t help her. And she didn’t. And I helped her.’ He smiled.
‘Good for you, Stuart,’ said Marina. She was trying not to think that her daughter’s well-being — her life, even — had been in the hands of a man such as this. That was for later. There were more pressing demands.