Hushabye (19 page)

Kate was intrigued, but this wasn’t the time to pursue it. She turned to Anderton.

He turned his pint glass around slowly, inking wet rings of condensation into the scarred table top.

“The backdrop, shall we say, to this case goes back a long way,” he said. “Back ten years ago, at least, when Rebecca D’Arcy-Warner was rich, some would say beautiful, successful and in love with Nick Fullman. She had everything she wanted except the one thing she really wanted, the thing she thought would come naturally. The one thing that she naturally assumed would be the next thing on the list.”

“A baby,” said Anderton. “But no baby was forthcoming. She pressed Fullman about it, about marriage too, although I’m willing to bet that she would have had the baby with him without the marriage certificate, if it had come to that. But the fact was, Nick Fullman didn’t want a wife and he certainly didn’t want a baby. We can speculate why he and Rebecca got together in the first place, but after ten years it was clear that Nick Fullman had no intention of changing the status quo. Perhaps he wanted a mother figure, having lost his own mother so young. Who knows? What he didn’t want to be was a father.”

Kate raised a finger. “She said that – Rebecca – something about him needing a lot of mothering. She told me that.”

Anderton looked at her and nodded slightly, before continuing.

“Rebecca and Nick eventually got engaged. Was this after a lot of pressure from Rebecca? A lot of emotional blackmail? Who can say? I’m sure to Rebecca this meant that she could finally see the end prize in sight – marriage and a baby. But as we all know, from Nick’s stepmother Evie, he had no intention of actually going through with the marriage. It was a sop to Rebecca’s feelings – some might say a calculated move to keep his life on the calm, even keel he wanted it to be–”

“Didn’t want to lose his rich girlfriend, more like,” said Olbeck.

“Maybe. Maybe. Whatever the reason, Nick Fullman had no intention of marrying Rebecca and no intention of having a child with her, in or out of wedlock.”

“Bit of a bastard, wasn’t he?” said Olbeck.

Anderton looked at him.

“Was he? Perhaps. He’s not the only man to not want to rock the boat, to be happy with his life as it is. Perhaps he was fooling himself as well as Rebecca. Perhaps he thought he’d change his mind.”

“Perhaps he didn’t want to hurt her,” said Kate.

Anderton nodded.

“The road to hell, and all that,” he said. “Hey, Mark? Sound familiar?”

Kate was astonished to see Olbeck blush and drop his eyes to the table. There was an awkward moment of silence before Anderton began speaking again.

“Like so many people stuck in a mediocre relationship, Nick Fullman didn’t do anything drastic until he’d actually met someone else. He met Casey Bright at a media party and they fell in love, or lust, or whatever you want to call it. And of course, that gave him the impetus to finish, finally, his relationship with Rebecca.”

“Typical man,” said Kate. “Won’t jump ship without a life raft waiting for him. They never just
leave
. It’s always for someone else.”

Anderton tipped back the last of his pint.

“You may be right there, DS – Kate. Whatever reason Nick had, it came as a total shock to Rebecca. She was devastated. I think it wouldn’t be too far off to say that she almost lost her mind over it. In one fell swoop, she’d lost her partner, her upcoming marriage and of course, any chance of a baby as well.”

Kate cleared her throat.

“She could have – couldn’t she have tried something else?”

“She tried adoption.”

Kate felt her face grow hot, not so much because she was embarrassed – she was over that now – but because she knew the men would
think
she was embarrassed. She drank the remainder of her drink to hide her confusion.

“She tried to adopt,” repeated Anderton. “But as we know, she was turned down. We’ve had a look at her medical records. She had a history of depression, a suicide attempt at university – what they call a passive attempt, a cry for help, but still – and digging deeper, there were other indications of mental instability. She had a history of self-harming. Nick Fullman confirmed that.”

“And then, of course, Nick and Casey had a baby. That must have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. This man, who’d avoided marrying her for so many years, had robbed her of her chance for a family, goes and marries someone he’d known for a matter of months – weeks, even. And they have a baby. To Rebecca, that must have been the tipping point.”

Kate got up and bought the next round of drinks. Anderton waited until she’d sat down again before he continued speaking.

“She planned it carefully. She knew the security codes to the Fullmans’ house and she probably knew where the CCTV cameras were as well. She had money, a lot of money, and we all know how much you can do – can get away with – if you have money. And perhaps she had something even more valuable – someone on the inside who would help her.”

“Gemma,” said Olbeck.

Anderton nodded. “Gemma was obsessed with her boss, Nick Fullman. They had slept together, of course, early on in their working relationship. Poor Gemma was in love, or lust, with Nick and hated Casey. Perhaps she thought that with Charlie out of the way, the Fullmans’ marriage would break up, and she’d be left to pick up the pieces. Who knows? Perhaps she just wanted the money.”

“It was Rebecca who paid her, then?”

“Yes. Whether Rebecca cooked up this plan together with Gemma or whether Gemma just twigged that it must have been Rebecca, is something we’ll possibly never know. I’m inclined to believe that Rebecca
didn’t
include Gemma in the plan from the start, but once Charlie had gone, Gemma started to do a bit of digging. She had access to a lot of information through Nick Fullman’s business interests. Perhaps she went to see Rebecca and told her that she knew. Who knows? She had Rebecca over a barrel, anyway. Charlie’s kidnapping and Dita’s death...”

“Yes, Dita,” said Kate. “What happened there?”

Anderton gently rolled his pint glass between his hands.

“I think it was accidental. Dita surprised her in the act of lifting Charlie from the cot and Rebecca panicked and hit her with the metal torch she was carrying. She’s a tall, strong woman, and she swung as hard as she could. I don’t believe she actually set out to kill her. Rebecca was the tall man that Nicholas Draker saw in the woods, of course.”

“And the one in the Barbour jacket outside Gemma’s flat.”

Anderton nodded.

“Rebecca clearly decided that Gemma was too much of a threat. It would have been easy for her to go to Gemma’s house on the pretext of paying her next blackmail payment. Then drugging Gemma’s drink while she was out of the room and then – well, you know what happened next.”

Kate shook her head.

“She must have been mad.”

“She thought she had no choice. She can’t keep paying off Gemma forever. What was the alternative – losing Charlie, going to prison? She was determined not to lose him. She’d already done so many bad things to get him.”

Kate recollected something.

“She said that was what she learned from Nick,” she said slowly. “She said something like ‘You have to decide what you want and go and get it, no matter what it takes.’”

“Yes. It sounds slightly less admirable if you think about what it really means – stopping at nothing to get what you want, no matter how unreasonable. No matter who you hurt along the way.”

“She was obsessed,” said Olbeck. “But did she think she was going to get away with it? How was she going to keep hiding him for ever? What about her dad finding him?”

“I think her plan was to pretend that he was hers by adoption. Keep Charlie hidden away in Cudston Magna until the hue and cry dies down and then pretend she’s adopted him. She lived a fairly solitary life – there weren’t many people to question the arrival of a child in her life anyway. Her father is senile and anything he says can be dismissed as the meanderings of old age. There were no home-helps or carers, of course, coming to the house. Rebecca was the only one there most of the time. Perhaps she planned to get a false passport for him. She knew the Costa brothers. That sort of thing would be exactly the kind of service they’d provide for a fee. She gave us their name in an attempt – another attempt – to make more trouble for Nick Fullman. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that the idea of having him found guilty of Charlie’s disappearance, possibly under arrest for the murder of his child, was almost as big as incentive as having Charlie himself.”

“But there was no body,” said Kate.

Anderton shrugged. “I’m not saying he would have been arrested. But Rebecca probably would be happy for him to remain under a cloud of suspicion for the rest of his life.”

Olbeck shook his head.

“What a bitch.”

Anderton swilled the rest of his pint and stood up.

“Selfishness. That’s what every crime comes down to in the end. Selfishness. Someone who thinks what they want is more important than anyone else.”

“Yes, sir,” said Kate.

Anderton picked his coat. “Good work, though, team. See you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Kate and Olbeck remained silent for a moment after his departure, staring into their drinks, lost in their own private thoughts. Finally Olbeck roused himself.

“Want another?”

Kate shook her head.

“Bedtime for me. I’m knackered.”

“I’ll walk you back to your car.”

The night was cool, a chilly wind blowing. Kate hunched into her coat, tucking her cold hands under her armpits. They walked in silence back to where Kate’s car was parked on a side-street.

“Who was our mystery caller?” said Kate, recalling the missing piece of the puzzle.

Olbeck laughed.

“Disgruntled council worker called Tom Farrow. He’d been made redundant from the planning department and decided to get his own back on the boss. He was the one who sent off the soil samples as well.”

Kate nodded. There was a moment’s silence.

“Well, goodnight then,” said Olbeck.

Kate hefted her keys in her hand.

“What did Anderton mean?” she asked. “When he said something about good intentions to you?”

Olbeck’s smile died.

“Oh, you know–”

“No, I don’t.”

Olbeck shrugged. He had his chin sunk into the neck of his jumper, hunching his shoulders against the cold.

“He’s talking about Joe,” he said. “He thinks – well – he thinks I’m not being quite fair to him.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “Him?” she said. Then she laughed. “Oh, sorry. It’s not funny. It’s just I didn’t – sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m gay,” said Olbeck. “Anyway. Anderton’s right. I’m not being fair. He thinks I’m stringing Joe along a bit.  I – well, you know how it is.”

“Tell me about it in the morning,” said Kate. “Not that my track record with men is anything but disastrous, so don’t listen to my advice anyway.”

Olbeck grinned. “Night, then.”

“Good night.”

When Olbeck arrived home, he could hear sounds from the television in the living room. He hesitated outside the door for a moment. He could picture what lay behind the door: a log crumbling to ash in the fireplace, a single table lamp casting a warm golden glow over the room. Joe with his legs thrown over the arm of the chair, a glass of red wine on the coffee table in front of him. A cosy, domestic, harmonious scene.
I don’t want that
. The thought was there: immediate, unbidden, inescapable. He sighed and took a deep breath and opened the door.

“You’re home early–” began Joe, but Olbeck was already speaking across him.

“Look Joe,” he said. “We need to talk.”

*

Kate had circled the hospital entrance twice before she spotted her mother, hobbling out towards the entrance, crutch tucked under one armpit. An unlit cigarette held in her free hand. She sighed and drew into one of the parking bays at the front.

“Over here, Mum.”

“Thanks, love.”

Mary Redman settled herself into the passenger seat and lit up. Kate set her jaw and opened her window.

“How’s the ankle?”

“Not too bad. They’ve given me loads of painkillers. I’ll be fine.”

Kate thrust away the thought of what those painkillers would be liked mixed with whiskey.
Perhaps I should stay with Mum tonight?
She shuddered inwardly at the thought, and the quick stab of guilt made her say, in softened tones, “I’ll see you’re fine and settled before I go.”

“Thanks, love.”

They drove in silence and clouds of smoke for a few miles. Kate was concentrating on finding her way on these unfamiliar streets when her mother spoke up.

“Solved that case, then?”

Kate glanced at her.

“That’s right. He’s back where he belongs now.”

“Thank God,” said Mary, comfortably. She rolled down her window and pitched her cigarette butt out. Kate winced.

Back at her mum’s place, Kate helped her up the bumpy path and to the sofa, carefully lifting the plastered ankle onto a cushion. She made a cup of tea, put the ashtray within reaching distance of Mary and made sure she had a glass of water on the table. Then she stood back, hesitantly.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’ll be fine, love. Go on home now. You must be tired.”

Kate still hesitated. “Can you, you know, get to the loo okay on your own?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “’Course. Look, stop worrying. Always were such a worrier, weren’t you? Even as a child.”

Kate bit back the retort that she’d had to be the one who worried about things as her own mother clearly hadn’t worried about anything, except where her next drink and smoke was coming from. She bit her lip, turning a little. She could see out of the window into the tiny garden next door, where washing flapped on a line. Her eyes fastened on one of the garments fluttering in the wind – a blue and brown striped babygro.

She kept facing away from her mother, holding each elbow in her opposite hand.

“Did you – did you really think I made a mistake?” she said, her voice so faint she could barely hear it herself. “With – with the baby? Did you really think I should have kept him?”