Page 120 of The Devil's Deceit
“Do you want to talk about it? I’m happy to sit here in silence if you prefer.”
“No.” I rub my lips together. “Talking will be good. Gets the poison out, you know?” I set the brandy glass on the coffee table and rub my eyes again. “He swearshe had nothing to do with the kidnapping, nor with Mum’s suicide.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know.” My head pounds, my brain running too many scenarios at once. “You know how he discovered that we knew? He planted cameras and had an IT script running to listen for certain keywords which would alert him that we were onto him. In here. In our fucking home.”
She scans the room. “Here. In here? So, we’re still being spied on?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have someone sweep through here first thing tomorrow. And he doesn’t have his phone, so it’s not like he’s watching us right now.”
She shudders. “I should hope not.”
“Oh, and the other thing. He swears he didn’t know he’s my sperm donor, either. Apparently, once the alert came through, he figured we knew about the rape, and he ran based on that. He never heard or saw the rest of the conversation. Or so he says.”
“Why would he lie about that?”
“A man who can lie to his family for thirty-odd years, who can rape his brother’s fiancée, can lie about anything. I’m not taking a single word at face value.”
“That’s fair. So, what happens now?”
I shrug. “Dad’s left it up to me. My decision. There’s a part of me that wants to beat him until his face is mush and every bone is broken. But there’s another part of me that thinks that would be too easy. Maybe rotting in the cellar is what he deserves. Gives him time to live with the consequences of his actions. Or perhaps we hand him over to the Russians—let them put him in one of their hard labor camps. I honestly don’t know right now.”
“You don’t have to make any decisions until you’re ready. He’s not going anywhere.”
“Yeah. At least as long as he’s alive, I can keep questioning him. I don’t buy this innocent act. He knows more than he’s letting on.”
“What about Alice?”
“Completely in the dark. Not a fucking clue. Can you imagine that? You’re married to someone for more than three decades, yet you don’t know them at all.”
“Where is she now?”
“Dad let her go home.”
“That’s good.”
I rock my head back, resting it on the squishy cushion behind me. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“It’s been an intense few days for all of you.” She squeezes my arm. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Okay.” I struggle to my feet and put my arm around my wife’s waist. “But you’re going to have to go on top.”
She laughs. “God, I love you, even if you do drive me insane from time to time.”
“That’s love, Little Pawn.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
GRACE
My body aches as I gradually regain consciousness. My limbs must weigh a hundred pounds. That’s what they feel like at least when I try, and fail, to move them. Oh, and to top off a brilliant start to the morning, my brain feels sluggish, like I’ve taken drugs or something.
I open one eye. Rain pelts the windows, peppering the glass in large globules. It takes a couple of seconds to orient myself, then the last two days come at me in a rush.
George and Alice coming into the store on Isla Oscura.
Calling Christian, with all the fear that entailed.
