Page 106 of Worse Than Murder
‘Travis?’
‘He wormed his way into our home, into our lives and he destroyed everything. I let him babysit my children. I bloody handed them to him.’
‘Lynne, no, don’t do this to yourself. You weren’t to know. You couldn’t have known.’
‘So, did he and Jack realise they had this affinity for small children and together they…’ She can’t bring herself to say it.
‘I’ve no idea what happened, Lynne. I don’t think we should dwell on that. We can’t do anything to change it. It might be for the best to focus on the positives.’
‘Positives?’ she asks, her head snapping up to look at me. ‘I was married to a paedophile. I had three children to him. He and Travis did God knows what to my children and then he murdered two of them. Where are the positives, Matilda?’
I allow the silence to develop so Lynne can calm down. ‘You’ve been searching for your daughters for thirty years. You’ve got them back. You can bury them. That’s a positive. You’ll have somewhere to go and talk to them.’
She inhales a deep and shaky breath. ‘I… I suppose that’s true.’ She attempts a smile, but she looks to be in great emotional pain.
‘Lynne, before Travis came along, did Jack ever display signs that he?—’
She interrupts: ‘No. Please. No. Don’t do this to me.’
‘Is it possible Travis could have manipulated Jack?—’
‘No!’ Lynne screams. ‘I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to know. My daughters are dead. I’ve found them. I can bury them. I can finally move on.’
‘You can’t, though, can you? Your husband is still out there. He’s still alive, isn’t he?’
‘I… No… I don’t…’
‘Has he been in contact with you? Have you spoken to him?’
‘I have to go,’ Lynne says. She turns and walks away at speed.
‘Someone in Jack’s position wouldn’t have only killed himself. He’d have killed Alison and you to stop you discovering the truth, and there have been too many sightings for it to be a coincidence,’ I call out, running after her.
‘I don’twantto know. I’ve got them back, that’s all that matters. You’ve done enough. You need to leave right now before more damage is done.’
Lynne storms off. I don’t follow. I look back out over the lake. Something has just happened here, and I don’t know what. Whatever it is, I am sure I have answers to questions that have been bugging me for days. If only my head wasn’t too fogged up for me to sort them out.
Imake my way back to the restaurant and Sally hangs up the phone from cancelling another booking for tonight. She looks tired, bless her. She always has a smile and a bounce in her walk. It’s gone. She’s missing Philip.
‘Tania’s called for you. She’s asked if you’ll pop round to see her.’ She hands me a Post-it note with Tania’s address on it.
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘I thought I’d make us pizzas for tonight. What do you think?’
‘It depends on the toppings.’
‘Pineapple, green olives, anchovies,’ she says. There’s a smile in her eyes. The old Sally is still there.
‘I’d arrest you for making a pizza like that.’
* * *
I drive Adele’s Porsche to Tania’s house. I can’t park directly outside so have to use the pub car park and walk back. Tania’s cottage is gorgeous. I don’t recognise the weather-worn brickwork, but it’s a building James would have loved. The chimney stack is centred and stands tall, reaching into the sky. The roof looks bowed as if it’s about to cave in at any moment, but it’s all authentic. Period. It’s a real house.
I knock on the pale blue door using the heavy iron knocker and marvel at the tiny leaded windows and the pitched roof of the open porch. I can almost picture the tiny rooms inside, the period details and the open fireplace, the cornicing and hardwood floor. I hope Tania isn’t a gaudy decorator and hasn’t thrown up flock wallpaper and Artexed ceilings.
Tania opens the door in a halo of cigarette smoke. She stubs out what’s left on the door frame and tosses the tab end into a pot by the door. She smiles and beckons me to enter.
