The Silent Twin (19 page)

J
oanna slumped
onto the vanity chair, the last of her strength evaporating. Her head felt weak, still carrying the melody of the Jack-in-the-box. Round and round it played, threatening her sanity as her world unravelled around her. In the sanctuary of her bedroom, the mask of indifference fell. She picked a ladder in the knee of her tights, forcing the thoughts back down. But she was trying to retreat back into a shell that couldn’t accommodate her any more. There was one way to ease the pressure. The thought lingered. She owed it to her family to stay strong. But it was so hard. The psychic’s words intermingled with the tune, taunting her unease. ‘Please Daddy, not that, don’t make me do that.’ Was the psychic talking about her husband? Was he capable of hurting Abigail in that way? It couldn’t be true. And yet . . . those words were strangely familiar. Somewhere in the back of her mind a cog whirred, then clicked into place as the response came forth. ‘Shh, be a good girl for Daddy and don’t tell.’ She had heard it before – and the memory brought the sensation of unwelcome hands. She lunged towards the en suite, the contents of her stomach hitting the floor before she could make it to the sink.

But then with each pump of cleaning fluid, she gathered her senses. It would take something bigger to help her carry on now. A slap on the face or pull of hair was not going to do it this time. She wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm and threw the tissues in the toilet. A sickly tang of lemon hung in the room, and she opened the small box window, closing her eyes as she breathed in the purity of the fresh air. The air really was different in the country.

Another horrific image flashed before her. Abigail buried in the ground, her soul trapped, crying for peace. No. It wasn’t real. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. She blinked, inhaling sharply as a voice outside snapped her back to reality. Peering through the crack in the window, she caught sight of DC Knight. Head bowed, she was speaking intently on her phone as she walked to her car. It was where she went to have private conversations, because in Blackwater farm walls had ears. Joanna swallowed back the burning sensation lining her throat, and turned to the sink. A waxy face stared back from the mirrored cabinet door. God, she looked old. Joanna swung it open and reached for the toothpaste. She could fix her face. But inside she was festering, and the sense of guilt hung on her shoulders like a leaden cloak, getting heavier by the day. She splashed cold water onto her skin, the act strengthening her resolve. As long as she played the part of the entrepreneur, the home-maker, the pretty wife . . . as long as she was all those things, everything would be all right. Her eyes rested on the box of Andrex tissues. Her special hiding place. A single razor blade lay hidden underneath the wad of double ply. It was her insurance. Knowing it was there helped calm her breath when it came quicker than she could manage it. She stared at the blue and green box longingly.
No.
She had promised her family . . . but did they really care? And besides, whose business was it anyway? It wasn’t as if she was hurting anyone else . . . ‘No,’ she whispered, taking a step towards the tissues. But the nagging whispers promised quick release, and as she drove her hand into the oval gap, she knew what she had to do.

With ceremonial grace, she placed a towel on the closed toilet lid, then rolled her stocking down past her thighs. Lifting her skirt around her waist, she sat on the towel, and placed a smaller one between her legs to catch any excess blood. She was returning to the dark place. She felt it like a black moth fluttering up in her chest, and the old justifications sprung free. Some people smoked to relieve stress, others drank or took drugs. At least this way, it wasn’t harming anyone but herself. The silvery scars seemed to smile up at her. Nick wouldn’t notice a fresh one. Intimacy was a thing of the past, and the few light cuts and strokes that patterned her body were hardly life threatening. Fat tears blurred her vision and she blotted them away. ‘Pull yourself together,’ she whispered under her breath. A hard ball of anxiety had lodged in her throat, and this was the only way to set it free. Calming breaths steadied her right hand as her left clamped the towel against her thigh. A light slice, that was all it would take, and she sucked between her teeth as she brought the razor blade two inches in a horizontal line. The kiss of the blade brought relief as her nerve endings screamed and the blood trickled down her thigh along with the pent up stress. She gazed at her handiwork. It was like welcoming back an old friend. She gently wrapped the towel over her leg, soaking up the excess blood before applying a small strip of sterile gauze. She would not need to cut again. Just pressing on the wound would bring instant relief. Yes, she thought, feeling calm for the first time that day. She had done the right thing.

S
he eased
off her stockings and stepped into black high-waisted trousers. The fabric would absorb any blood, and the chaff of the gauze against the material would provide relief. She watched from her window as DC Knight exited her car and paced the yard, still on her phone. She admired her ability to wear heels in such conditions. And she was one of the few people who still wiped their feet at the door. She doubted the group of people downstairs would bother. They had gathered in the kitchen this afternoon, planning on redirecting their search. There were so many people traipsing in and out of their house she had given up asking them to use the doormat. What was the point? It wasn’t as if they had expensive woollen carpet like in their townhouse in Haven. That house situated beyond the bridge, near the designer shops and the delightful chic cafes . . . She allowed her mind to wander until she noticed a convoy of police cars coming over the hill. DC Knight shielded her eyes with her hand and hurried inside.

Joanna met her in the hall, the welcome sting of the cut keeping her on her toes. ‘What is it?’ she asked her.

Jennifer’s face was alight, and she spoke with an urgency Joanna hadn’t heard before.

‘I need you to watch out for Olivia. When she comes back with her dad, you need to take her out of here. I’ve tried to ring him but I think he’s out of range.’ She glanced back at the police cars filling the yard. ‘I’ve tried to put them off, but they said it can’t wait.’

‘What? What can’t wait?’

‘There’s been a development. I need you to stay calm.’

Calm? Joanna thought. She was the queen of calm. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her trousers and pinched where she had sliced her skin. The sharpness brought her back to ground, and she smiled as she nodded in response.

Three officers bundled into the house while Sue, the original FLO, and a uniformed officer waited outside. Joanna guessed that the two officers in plain clothes were detectives, although she didn’t recognise them from Nick’s work. They barely afforded her a glance before following Jennifer into the kitchen. ‘Be quick,’ she heard DC Knight whisper. ‘Nick and Olivia are due back from school any second.’

A quick nod affirmed their understanding. Joanna peeped over their shoulders as the crowd of twenty or so people parted to allow access to the person in their sights. The realisation made her stomach clench, and she began to feel sick all over again. They had come to her home to make an arrest.

‘
W
hat’s going on
?’ Nick asked, his body rigid and unyielding as Jennifer tried to escort him inside. Her hand was quickly shrugged off his shoulder, and disbelief flashed across his face. ‘Why have they arrested Radcliffe?’

‘Zoe’s fresh from briefing,’ Jennifer said firmly, her emotions locked behind her eyes. ‘Why don’t we go inside for an update?’

Nick’s gaze trailed over the police cars snaking up the twisted road. He rubbed his chin, rough with two-day stubble. He reached into his jacket pocket, the jangle of his car keys announcing his intentions.

‘You can go after them if you want, but they won’t tell you a damn thing,’ Jennifer said, giving him a hard stare. ‘And when you come back from wherever they’re bringing him, we’ll both be off duty.’

‘Look,’ Nick said, ‘I’ll go inside as long as you’re completely upfront with me.’

Jennifer’s nod relayed her agreement.

The divide between family and police was evident, as Zoe and Jennifer sat one side of the kitchen table, and Nick and Joanna on the other. It wasn’t that long ago that Nick had been working on police cases himself, but lack of sleep and growing anxiety skewed his perceptions, making him paranoid and mistrustful. The dynamics of the house had changed since the incident with the well, and for once there were no cups of tea or slices of homemade cake on offer. The kettle was cold, and the Aga lukewarm. Fiona placated Olivia in her bedroom, and Joanna took a seat beside her husband as they spoke of arrests and forensic evidence downstairs.

‘First,’ Zoe said, in her most diplomatic voice, ‘DC Knight wasn’t aware of Radcliffe’s arrest until seconds before we arrived. The decision was made pending anonymous phone calls received by Crimestoppers, along with past intelligence and Radcliffe’s lack of an alibi when questioned.’

Joanna piped up. ‘You’ve only just finished interviewing my husband, for goodness’ sake. Who’s next? Me?’

Jennifer raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic outburst. What had got into her? And why was she so quick to defend Radcliffe?

Nick reached across the table for his wife’s clasped hands, unknotting her fingers and giving them a squeeze. ‘Shh, it’s okay, let the officer tell us what’s going on.’

Joanna nodded, withdrawing her hands and shoving them deep in her trouser pockets. Jennifer watched as a shot of colour bloomed on her face, her pupils dilating as the imitation smile found its way back to her lips. She recognised the inner struggle as the woman became calm once again. Whatever had fuelled Joanna’s outburst had returned to its box.

Zoe gave Jennifer a knowing look before bringing her attention back to the investigation. ‘We’re all on the same side.’ She turned to Nick, shooting one of her bullet stares from under her jagged black fringe. ‘There shouldn’t be any animosity. We’re your colleagues, and we’re working around the clock to find Abigail. You get that, don’t you?’

Nick sighed, a long tired exhalation of breath. ‘Sorry. Yes, we know you’re doing your best.’

‘As I was saying, Radcliffe was in the area prior to Abigail’s disappearance, but he’s failed to provide us with an alibi for the rest of the afternoon. Today we received an anonymous call stating that he was seen driving around the edge of the woodlands, acting in a suspicious manner.’

‘Does this mean they’ll continue with the search?’ Nick said, making Jennifer wince as he cracked each of his knuckles. Every inch of him was tensed, and she wondered how much longer he could carry on without sleep.

Jennifer decided not to push Nick any further, and made an excuse to get Zoe outside. Sitting in the comfort of her car, they parked outside the gate, making the most of the opportunity to talk freely about the case.

‘I don’t envy you there,’ Zoe said, nodding back at the house. ‘I’d make a useless FLO.’

‘I’m just grateful to be allowed in. They’ve knocked back all other offers of help. I understand their frustration but Nick’s reaching breaking point. It feels like he’s going to snap any minute.’

‘He wasn’t too bad once we got him inside the house.’

‘That’s what I don’t get. Maybe it’s just tiredness, but . . .’

‘What?’ Zoe said.

‘Well, he’s just been told that his friend, a man he trusted, may be involved in his daughter’s disappearance. The Nick I know would have kicked off, knocked some furniture over, or got in my face. Even Joanna piped up. But he just sat there and took it. That strikes me as odd.’

‘Huh!’ Zoe said. ‘Everything about that family is odd. A daughter who doesn’t speak, an insomniac father, and a ghoul for a mum. You’ve got your work cut out for you there.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ Jennifer sighed. ‘But these are horrible circumstances. Who knows how any of us would react? Anyway, how’s work going? I’m itching to get back to the team.’

‘Oh, you know, the usual,’ Zoe said, pulling out two sticks of chewing gum. ‘Want one?’

Jennifer waved a hand to decline. ‘No, thanks. Fill me in, then. Anything interesting?’

Zoe offered up a teasing grin, speaking between chews. ‘Hmm, I’m not sure. I reckon you’ll owe me a drink if I tell you.’

‘Do I have to give you a Chinese burn?’ Jennifer said, only half joking. The case must have been juicy, or Zoe would have told her by now. Every case that Operation Moonlight investigated was on a strict need-to-know basis, but that wouldn’t stop Jennifer questioning her colleagues if she thought she was missing out. And lately she felt she was.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting back?’ Zoe said, glancing at the farm in her rear-view mirror.

She was right. Jennifer had just dropped a bombshell and then left the family to it. But she was too caught up in Zoe’s investigation now to let go.

‘They’ll be all right for a minute. What have you got?’ Jennifer said, with a glare that suggested she wasn’t leaving until she got answers.

Zoe chewed a couple more times before clearing her throat. ‘There’s been whispers about the Reborners case. I heard you’re going to be reassigned to it.’

The very mention of the cult sent a chill down Jennifer’s spine. The case involving Bert Bishop, otherwise known as the Raven, still gave her nightmares. But it was her case, and a spark ignited inside her at the prospect of reopening it.

‘I don’t understand. We closed them down.’

‘Ethan thinks the cult is still active. Remember that bust we carried out? He thinks it was just a front. The real meetings have gone underground. They knew we were onto them and they set us up to see if we’d bite.’

‘We closed them down,’ Jennifer repeated. The box she had firmly shut away in her mind had sprung open, its contents crawling like maggots on her skin. The Reborners were a terrible prospect for Haven; a cult which left a trail of dead bodies in its wake. But the ringleader had been taken out of the equation. It couldn’t be true.

‘Well, I’m sorry, hun, but that’s the word on the street. I’m slowly building up some contacts in Haven, but it’s going to take time.’

Jennifer nodded, her thoughts in the past. Zoe’s previous experience as an undercover officer would not go to waste in her new role. ‘You have my number. Call me if anything significant comes up.’

‘You owe me a drink first, remember?’ Zoe said, shaking her feet from her kitten heels and throwing them on the back seat. ‘Ohhh, that’s better.’

Jennifer smirked. No matter how stressed she was, Zoe’s quirky ways always made her smile. ‘You’re not seriously gonna drive barefooted, are you?’

‘Of course,’ Zoe said, wriggling her purple painted toenails. ‘And don’t go changing the subject. Mine’s a vodka and coke.’

Jennifer opened the car door and stepped out into the breeze. ‘Play your cards right and I’ll get you a kebab too,’ she said, laughing at her colleague’s disgusted reaction. ‘See you later. Be careful driving in your bare feet.’

‘Chill your beans, babe, I’m all good.’

Zoe turned over the ignition of the unmarked Ford Focus, revving it into life. Jennifer watched as the car hared up the winding lane. This would be her first and last FLO job. She couldn’t stand to be away from the beating heart of the investigation any more. She was yet to admit it was because she also missed working with Will. She cared for him far more than she could afford. Life had changed beyond recognition in the last year, and it was time to put her foot on the brake. Her childhood had taught her some valuable lessons. It didn’t pay to invest too much in one person, and life had a way of letting you down.

She stared into the distance, until the silver car was a dot on the landscape. It was typical that Radcliffe turned up to the house on the day he was to be arrested. She had been just about to speak to him when she received a call telling her to hang fire. But an arrest was good news, wasn’t it? Radcliffe fitted the profile as Abigail’s abductor. So why did she feel so uneasy? Unanswered questions niggled the back of her brain, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they had arrested the right man. There was one person she had yet to speak to – and her visit would not be welcomed.