Page 54 of The Serial Killer's Sister
Your words in everything you do.
Teary eyes, broken heart:
Life has torn you apart.
I pass it to the detective, then lay the jacket on the ground, sitting on it. I need to be comfortable to tell him this story. ‘Those are all the verses. I scribbled it down when I couldn’t sleep. I’m not sure who wrote it – I think there are a few variations. Point is, the main verse was the one he used all the time. Some kind of comfort blanket, really – a way of feeling sure no one was lying to him.
‘I see,’ DI Walker says. ‘If he wanted to feel safe, that he wasn’t alone, he’d make you swear to it. Cross your heart.’
‘Yes. If he was really serious, he made you say “stick a needle in my eye”. It was the ultimate show of trust, I guess.’
‘So, what happened here all those years ago?’ DI Walker scans the area, then looks back at me, his eyes imploring; intense.
‘On the evening of May the thirteenth, we came here because Henry’s clue for The Hunt led to the well.’
‘We?’
‘As much as she didn’t want to be dragged into Henry’s cruel games any more, my friend came too. She didn’t want me to face him alone. Much the same as you don’t want that now.’
There’s a pause so loaded I forget to breathe.
‘Go on,’ DI Walker says. ‘It’s time you told me everything.’
Chapter 38
THEN
Anna leans over the well, throws a stone down. It doesn’t make a sound. Kirsty paces around its perimeter, careful not to trip. They’d left Finley Hall at dusk to walk here, but now it’s almost night.
‘I don’t get it,’ Kirsty says. ‘How did you know to come here?’
Anna straightens. ‘Ding dong bell.’ She splays her arms, both palms up, like it’s obvious.
‘And?’ Kirsty widens her eyes at her friend, her patience diminishing fast. ‘What’s that got to do with this well?’
‘It’s the nursery rhyme. You know – ding dong bell, pussy’s in the well …’
‘Oh my God – he’s killed a fucking cat, hasn’t he?’ Kirsty thrusts her upper body over the edge, starts calling, ‘Here pussy,’ and making a kissing noise.
‘I don’t think so,’ Anna says, shaking her head.
‘I wouldn’t be so sure. Hehaskilled other creaturesand left them for you. It wouldn’t be a big stretch for him to murder a cat.’
‘No, I know that. But if he had, he’d want me to see it, Kirst. It wouldn’t be at the bottom of a dark hole.’
She huffs and pushes herself upright. ‘He really is weird, Anna. Not right in the head.’ She jabs a finger into her temple. ‘Once we get out of Finley you have to cut all ties with him, you know that, right? I’m not having that walking danger sign anywhere near us.’
‘It’s hard. Despite everything he’s done lately, the trouble he’s got himself in with the police, he’s still my brother. You know what it’s like. Blood’s thicker than water and all that.’
‘Tell that to our loser parents.’
Anna bows her head. She knows Kirsty is right, but a part of her clings to the thought that she can help Henry. That his cruel behaviour is reversible.
‘If he’d had a better upbringing… a better sister—’
‘Don’t you dare blame yourself for his behaviour, Anna Lincoln!’ Kirsty grabs Anna’s arm, squeezing it tight. ‘You aren’t responsible for his choices. Like you, me, and all the other kids at Finley weren’t responsible for their mothers’ or fathers’ choices.’
‘Okay, I know. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,’ Anna says, pulling her arm away.
