‘What did they do with the gun?’ Monty asked the next day as he sat up in the hospital bed, picking at one of his peeling ECG leads.
Stevie pulled his hand away and kept hold of it. ‘She said Bennett threw it in the weir.’
‘Do you believe that? The weir was dragged and nothing except Bianca’s laptop was found.’
‘No I don’t believe her. Wayne’s kid saw her the other night, fishing around in the garden pond. I’ve ordered another search at the Breightlings’—it’s happening as we speak, concentrating on the pond this time.’
‘And what’s the story with Bianca’s dad?’
‘I think I finally got the truth out of Stella. She pretty much confirmed what Emma told us. Bennett has a history of violence and drug abuse. He’s been in and out of jail over the years for assault and armed robbery. He’s been back in Stella’s life this last year or so, traced her through the Internet, and has been putting her through hell since. He’s put her into hospital at least once. Bianca also mentioned it in one of her emails to Emma.’
‘So he’s the man we saw on the stairs, the same guy who hassled Stella in the park?’
‘Apparently.’
‘Then why did Stella tell us she hadn’t seem him since Bianca’s conception?’
‘She said she was terrified of him and also ashamed of the situation she’d found herself stuck in. She didn’t want to admit that she’d failed so badly in her duty of care to Bianca—she knew about the abuse apparently’
‘But why the hell didn’t she do something about it?’ Monty exclaimed. ‘I just don’t understand people like this!’
‘Oh, come on, she’s a victim too...’ Stevie stopped herself before an argument developed, knowing it wouldn’t do his blood pressure any good. She wondered how long she’d have to tiptoe around him like this. It wouldn’t alter her feelings for him, but nor would it lessen the desire she sometimes had to nail him to the floor.
‘You’re turning into an insensitive, grumpy old man,’ she said.
‘I’ve always been an insensitive, grumpy old man.’
She leaned across the bed and kissed him on the lips. When she pulled back she said, ‘We brought Nick Bennett in last night. He’s denying everything, of course, says he’s never heard of anyone called Emma Breightling.’
‘Alibi?’
‘He said he was visited at home by a mate the night Kusak was murdered, but we can’t get hold of the guy. He’s a cray fisherman and at sea at the moment. But the piece of torn fabric I found at the scene looks like a match to a shirt we found bundled up at the back of his wardrobe. It should be enough to hold him until we can get hold of his mate.’
‘How’s the Breightling girl?’
Stevie looked down at their entwined hands. ‘I don’t know, Donna’s been talking to her but she won’t tell me anything.’
‘True victims feel remorse, guilt—does Emma?’
Stevie’s eyes strayed to the heart monitor. Guilt; she was glad she didn’t have a machine attached to her emotions at this moment.
‘She’s worried about going to prison.’
‘A child under fourteen is deemed not to have committed an offence unless she was aware she was doing something wrong,’ Monty said. ‘In other words she needs to know it’s an offence to kill someone. That she didn’t know will be up to her defence lawyer to prove, but they shouldn’t have much trouble. You can see where everyone’s sympathies will lie.’ Monty leaned back against the pillows; he looked exhausted. ‘Her father locked up for manslaughter, mutilation of a corpse and conspiring to cover up a crime; her godfather with a myriad of paedophilia charges plus importation of cocaine—’
‘For personal use only, of course,’ Stevie interrupted.
‘—secreted in his Mexican statues. And cooking the agency books—a nice pinch of white collar financial crime to throw into the pot.’ Monty scratched his chin and gave a thin laugh. ‘Imagine Breightling and Stoppard in the same cell, there’d be some fireworks.’
‘I know whose corner I’d be in. But one thing I don’t understand about all this is how a man like Breightling could change so much. He once had a deep social conscience and a terrific reputation. What happened to all that?’
Monty shrugged. ‘Lust? Infatuation?’
‘He was middle aged, lonely and rich when he met Miranda. He’d devoted his entire adult life to his career. He must have been smitten by her, so much that he was unable to detach even when he discovered what she was really like. I suppose when she had Emma, he found himself cemented in even more firmly. Miranda and Stoppard worked a pretty slick operation.
They were milking Breightling for everything he had, then they were going to take off together. Or so Miranda believed—she’s admitted that much by the way.’
‘It sounds to me like Stoppard was using Miranda as much as he was Breightling. Dragging it out for fifteen years...’
‘I think that’s because Stoppard was insanely jealous of Breightling,’ said Stevie. ‘For him it was more than just a scam, it was personal. Breightling stood for everything Stoppard could never be—a respected citizen from an established, wealthy family. He played it out as long as he could to cause as much pain as possible. He’s talking now by the way. Claims Emma tried to seduce him that night she ran away. He says she stood on the mezzanine after Miranda had gone to bed, wearing very little, and lured him into her room.’
Monty collapsed back on his pillows and groaned. ‘That sounds like a familiar line— She wanted it your honour, honest she did.’
‘Keep calm, your blood pressure will only shoot up again.’ Both of them turned their eyes to the monitor by the bed. ‘Try and have a sleep, I’ll stay a bit longer,’ Stevie said gently.
Monty closed his eyes and soon his chest was rising and falling in time with the bleeping machine. Stevie’s mind went back to something Emma had said to her yesterday when they were finishing up the interview.
‘I love my parents, even my mother; kind of, but you know, I really don’t like them. I feel sorry for Christopher, he’s weak and greedy for money. I don’t think he’ll cope very well in prison. I even feel sorry for Miranda, she’s a mess, she’ll never get over the social stigma; Tall Poppies will have to close. They’ll probably divorce and when Christopher’s released I’ll end up being shuffled betweenthem like Izzy is between you and Mr McGuire.’
Stevie squeezed Monty’s hand and whispered. ‘No, it won’t be like that, Monty, I promise.’
Her phone buzzed with a text. It woke Monty and he jerked awake.
Stevie fumbled for the off button and looked guiltily around for a nurse. She shouldn’t have her mobile on in here.
‘Better read it,’ Monty said, his voice raspy with sleep. Stevie read the SMS from Tash aloud:
Cant get shit to stick. Bennett insists piece of shirt planted, cant hold him any longer, Emmas word against his. Released on police bail.
‘I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t read, and I definitely cannot face Tall Poppies this afternoon,’ Emma’s mother told her. ‘I’m going out for some retail therapy before your father’s credit card gets cancelled.’
The fusillade of Miranda’s heels echoed around the empty marble hall long after the lacquer door was slammed.
Emma Breightling performed a little victory dance. Then she took the cordless phone from the kitchen bench and punched in the well-remembered number. The phone was picked up after only a few rings.
‘It’s me, Stella, guess what?’ Emma said, unable to hold her excitement back. ‘We did it. We got away with it!’