The Game Changer (45 page)

Slouching in the armchair, he knew Fisher and Fitzsimons were still interviewing Malcolm Madden, but he needed to think about the information Fitzsimons had been able to feed through to him.

PIU had confirmed Jessica Fraser,
née
Baxter, was the abuse victim who had supplied the statements to the unit. Her past, and that of her brother, hadn’t been happy. Their mother, Sharon, had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, characterised by episodes of mania and depression, fifteen years before her death. During her manic phases, she would break away from reality, ignoring her children. Those with the condition, like Sharon, used alcohol or mood-adjusting drugs during the manic phases to slow things down, and afterwards to lift them when the depression came. During the mania, their self-esteem was inflated to the point of grandiosity. Typical behaviour included obsessive spending sprees, doing things to the extreme, and exhibiting unusual sexual behaviour.

Some of this had come to light when they had looked at the connection to Kevin’s suspicious death. Adam already knew that the boy’s mother had died shortly after her son. He didn’t yet know how Jessica fitted in. The feedback from the writing analysis would take more time, but if Jessica had sent the anonymous notes, he needed to know why. Surely both she and Kate had been victims. Could it be payback for Kate, who had not suffered the same fate, or was there more to it? Jessica Baxter had gone from one foster home to another, but she could hardly blame Kate for that.

Clarence Webb had an equally depressing past. He and Jessica had first crossed paths in their late teens, when they were fostered by the same family. He had a number of minor convictions, but nothing recent. Apparently that part of what Madden had said was true. Webb was involved with setting up a meditative group at one point, but it had fizzled out a number of months before. From what Fitzsimons could gather, Webb wasn’t the brightest spark.

Adam thought about Kate, how much he cared for her, and the two of them having a child together. He had made a mess of it the first time around with Addy, running away from his responsibilities and deservedly paying the price. There had still been no contact from Addy or Aoife. Marion was going up the walls. If he could have got hold of his son at that moment, he’d have given him an
almighty talking-to. He gazed at Kate, wondering what she would do in his place.

He stretched out in the chair, knowing it would be another hour before Declan and Charlie arrived. He listened as a hospital trolley passed the door, the wheels spinning. It was then that he heard a low voice call his name. At first, he thought he had imagined it, until the voice called again, and he knew Kate was awake.

ADRENALIN PUSHED ADDY FORWARD. HE WAS thinking about Chloë and Sarah, how weak they both were. He thought about Aoife, and Donal too, and how the boy placed so much faith in him. When he finally got out on to solid ground, his first mission was to get to the church. Something told him that now every second counted.

Before reaching the church grounds, he saw the boat pull into the shore, carrying more supplies. Even from a distance, he recognised Stephen. His return meant trouble. He hoped Donal had done as he’d told him, and that he was safe, even though nothing and nowhere on the island felt safe.

At the entrance to the church grounds, he saw numerous old gravestones. They looked like twisted rocks being swallowed by the earth. The front door was blocked by wooden planks, but Donal had said that the bottom ones were loose. All he had to do was pull them back and push the door in.

The interior was smaller than he’d expected, with rotten wooden pews. The smell of damp hit his nostrils. He saw cracks in the whitewashed wall, some laden with moss, and parts of the plasterwork had broken off in large chunks, leaving gaping holes, like decaying skin. The wooden beams in the ceiling looked suspect too, as if at any moment one might fall. At the top end of the church, there was an altar with a table made of black marble. When he got closer, he saw it was covered with slime and muck. He jumped backwards as something furry scurried past his ankles. He thought it was a rat, but it was a fox escaping through a hole underneath the church wall.

Donal had told him to go as high in the spire as he could, and
even before he started the climb, his heart was pounding. Near the top, his hands were shaking. He took out his mobile phone. The battery was about to die, but he needed to call Adam. His father would know what to do. The phone bleeped: only four per cent of battery left. Shit, he thought, but he could see two signal bars. A series of text messages came in, first from his mother, then Adam, and then his mother again. He didn’t bother reading any of them. Instead he pressed the dial button, listening as it rang out, once, twice, three times. ‘Come on! Bloody answer!’ But the call kept ringing, finally going to voicemail. Two seconds later, the phone was dead, and it was only then he realised something or someone was moving around outside. Could he have been followed? He had to be careful. Remain calm. He couldn’t fuck up now.

Listening again, he heard the wind whizzing around the church spire. Maybe he’d been mistaken. He swallowed hard, counting to ten, wanting to make sure the coast was clear before he punched the four zeros into Sarah’s phone. It took him a while to find her contacts. He scrolled to favourites, looking for anyone called John, worrying that there might be more than one, but breathing a sigh of relief when he found the number he needed. Before phoning, he heard footsteps, the crunch of twigs underfoot, and people mumbling. Shit. He couldn’t stop now, even if the others were close by. He dialled the number, knowing he was running out of time.

‘Hello,’ a man’s voice answered.

‘Are you Sarah’s husband?’ Addy kept his voice low.

‘Who is this?’

‘You don’t know me, but I know Sarah.’ The words fumbled out as fast as he could say them. ‘You have to listen to me. Her life is in danger. Things are not right here. There was a fire. Sarah and some others have been drugged. You need to get help. Something is going to happen, something big.’ He drew a breath and, for the first time, acknowledged what had been in his head all along: ‘People could die.’

‘Who is this?’ John Sinclair sounded suspicious, fearful.

‘Addy, my name’s Addy. You have to phone my father, Adam O’Connor, tell him what I’ve told you.’

‘The detective?’

The footsteps were getting closer. Addy didn’t have much longer.

‘Tell him people are in danger. There’s a cult here on the island, led by a guy called Saka.’

‘Where are you?’ John Sinclair yelled down the phone, registering the name, Saka, the name he had come to hate.

‘The island’s called Colton, off the south-west coast.’

Addy heard the church door being kicked in. ‘They’re about to take me. Tell my dad, there’s children here and we’re running out of time.’

LEE HAD NO IDEA WHAT MALCOLM MADDEN WOULD tell them next, but he had been long enough in the game to read body language. The man’s mood had changed since he’d arrived. Initially he had been cagey about answering questions, but now it seemed to bring him some kind of relief to get the information off his chest.

‘I knew the moment I saw Jessica who she was. The family resemblance was extraordinary.’

‘What do you mean by the family resemblance?’

‘To Valentine and then, by extension, to Kate.’

‘You’re saying Jessica was related to Kate and Valentine Pearson?’

‘Yes. That’s why the money passed hands. Sharon Baxter claimed Valentine was Jessica’s father. He didn’t believe her. He’d slept with her, all right, during one of her normal phases.’

‘Normal phases?’

‘She suffered from bipolar disorder.’

Fitzsimons nodded at Lee, confirming what he’d told O’Connor.

Malcolm kept talking: ‘Valentine didn’t know that at the time. To be honest, I don’t think it was even a fling, more like a one-night stand. She wasn’t of the same social standing as him, but very attractive. There was no denying that.’

‘Valentine thought the mother was lying?’

‘Yes. He was in denial, wanting to believe his version of the truth. He could have insisted on a paternity test, but he didn’t.’

‘And this happened in 1988?’

‘Yes.’

‘When Jessica was a minor?’

‘Correct.’

‘Why wait so long to pay the money? Why didn’t it happen directly after the girl’s birth, or even before?’

‘I don’t know.’

Lee’s mind was doing somersaults, even though, outwardly, no one would have guessed. ‘Malcolm, can I share something with you?’

‘What?’

‘Kate had a theory about you.’

‘What kind of theory?’

‘She thought that your having been marginalised from the group all those years ago had in some way undermined you.’

‘I can’t say I was happy about it.’

‘What do you know about cults?’

‘Cults?’

‘I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, Malcolm. You heard me the first time. What kind of people form them?’

‘Usually they have narcissistic qualities. A desire for power, money and other rewards is high within this personality type, and manipulation of others becomes a means of feeding their low self-worth.’

‘Do you have low self-worth?’

‘No.’

‘Does Jessica Baxter?’

‘Yes, but I hardly think … I mean, she was a victim in all this.’

‘A victim, who, as a girl, you knew was being abused.’

‘I’ve already told you my views. It was wrong of me, but I wasn’t the worst.’

‘What about Valentine?’

‘What about him?’

‘Did he know Jessica was abused by his educationally minded pals?’