Memory Scents (28 page)

              “What happened on the boat trip, Dennis? I mean really? I thought you said you were going to deal with it – not that I wanted you to.”

              “And I have dealt with it. I let him think he was going to die; gave him a taste of his own medicine.” Dennis saw Grace’s look of dismay, “The one thing I’ve learnt from being in the police force is that death is the easiest way out for someone like Tim.”

              “But we agreed.”

              Dennis laughed and sat down next to her on the sofa.

              “I didn’t agree anything. I just said I didn’t want you to worry about it and to leave it to me.”

              “But I didn’t want you dealing with it. I could have made it look like a simple accident and it would have been better for everyone concerned. He’s my stupid alcoholic husband.” Grace knew she was being childish which wasn’t becoming for a woman of her age but she couldn’t help herself, the disappointment was so great.

              “I’m really sorry, Grace, but he still is.” Dennis laughed.

              “I’m glad you find this all so amusing!” Grace started to cry.

              “Listen to me. He’s had the most horrible experience of his life; one he’ll never forget. Very soon he’s going to wake up on someone else’s boat, which is moored in the harbour about a mile from here, further along the coast, with an empty rum bottle in his hand, totally unscathed, apart from being a bit smelly and dirty.”

              “But why, if you were going to make him suffer, why didn’t you just finish him off?”

              “Because my darling, death is too kind for him and in the next few days the police will find evidence to convict him of all the murders he committed. I for one want to see him in court. He’s going to prison for a very long time, which is where, I suspect, he’ll end his days. This way we can all live with a clear conscience.”

              Dennis searched Grace’s face to see if she understood what he was saying. He needed her to think about it all rationally; otherwise the consequences could be horrific.

              “I nearly did do it you know? I came so close to pushing the box I’d put him in over the side of the boat.”

              “You put him in a box?” Grace sipped the brandy Dennis had poured her.

              “Sure did. Frightened the living daylights out of him; he actually wet himself.”

              A smile crept across Grace’s mouth, nudging her eyes to follow suit. They sat in silence for a while.

              “I told him about Nadine.”

              Grace stayed very still, unable to look at him.

              “He tried to deny he’d killed her but when he realised I was going to throw him overboard, he just gave in.”

              Grace felt as if the room and everything in it, including her insides, was rushing away from her.

              “Can you repeat that?” It came out more as a whisper and Grace felt for a moment that the words had come from someone else. “What did you just say?”

              Dennis watched the colour drain from her face and then the enormity of what he’d said dawned on him.

              “Nadine. Oh Grace, please tell me you knew? I thought when we talked the night you brought Alice’s letters over you knew he’d killed her. I thought it was your main reason for wanting to get rid of him.”

              “I was going to do it for Alice, for all the others. He can’t have killed Nadine. It was an accident.” Grace stared at him, waiting for him to tell her he’d made a mistake.

              “It was recorded as an accident but there was a strong feeling throughout the station that she may have been murdered. The dog walker who heard her scream also heard some muffled noises and he thought she shouted at someone.”

 
              “Yes, she shouted for help.”

              “No Grace, there’s a difference between shouting to someone and shouting at them. The witness couldn’t be sure and we knew it wouldn’t stand up in court. I’m so sorry Grace, I thought you knew. I suppose I assumed Tim told you all the details of the case. Of course he wouldn’t have. How silly of me to even think it.”

              “Well, he wasn’t ever going to reveal that little bit of information, was he? He knew I would have pushed for further inquiries; that I might have worked out what he’d done.”

              “Are you ok?”

              “I don’t know. I just feel numb and...I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Grace fell into Dennis’s arms and cried.

              She cried herself to sleep while he stroked her hair. Then he gently moved her onto the sofa and covered her with a blanket, while he made them both some lunch.

           
He knew she’d go through all sorts of emotions and she’d still want to kill Tim for a time, but he knew he’d done the right thing. He knew from experience that all those families would want to see justice, would want to see the face of the person who killed their child. It helped people through the grieving process; a face and a name, a real life human being. He knew Grace would see this in time and he understood what she was feeling. He also knew strong emotions would fade over time and eventually the guilt would set in regardless of what that person had done. Moral standards always got in the way and there was a lot of truth in the saying that two wrongs don’t make a right. He didn’t feel he had the right to make that decision on behalf of all those parents who may have different views.

              Even though he knew it was the correct and clear way forward he was still left with the urge to have pushed Tim over the edge of the boat and the satisfaction that would have brought. But he consoled himself with the fact that coppers were hated in prisons; if Tim had ever thought about killing himself in the past, he’d soon be wishing he’d done it before now.

              He just hoped Grace was stable and strong enough to get through the next few weeks of gossip and nosy reporters.

*

              Grace placed the handset back in its bed and with a frown contemplated where her sister could have got to. She’d spoken to the hospital and they’d discharged her that morning. It was now mid-afternoon. Grace had been waiting to go and pick her up. She’d been on pins since her conversation with Dennis. She’d more or less sat by the phone, willing it to ring and the person on the other end to tell her they’d found and arrested him. But there had been nothing.

              Every avenue she’d followed to try and keep herself busy had led to a dead end. Dennis had told her to act normal, play ignorant and keep herself occupied. Now she was worrying about where Eve had got to. She’d rung round everyone she could think of but no one had seen her. She couldn’t believe the hospital had just let her go without checking if she was with someone. A rather no-nonsense nurse had told her tersely over the phone that you couldn’t watch someone twenty four hours a day and they’d seen this sort of thing before. In other words, thought Grace, if she was going to do it, she’d find a moment. Not exactly what she wanted to hear when the hospital had no information on her whereabouts. But this wasn’t primarily what she was worrying about. She knew that Eve wouldn’t try it again, she’d hit rock bottom and she was slowly on her way back up.

              What was concerning her was the vision of Tim in the back of her mind, drifting around like a piece of wood on the water. She shook it off realising there was no reason for Tim to go looking for Eve or for her to go searching for him, for that matter. She reassured herself that once he came to, he’d find his way home first, before going anywhere else, and by that time the police would have caught up with him.

              It suddenly dawned on her like light bursting through a crack in the curtain. Daphne. That was it. She’d gone to see Daphne. Grace was aware of how close they had become. She couldn’t understand why, she thought the old woman was vile and always had done.

              She jumped up from where she’d been sitting in Eve’s kitchen, grabbed her keys and was out of the door in seconds. She wasn’t quite aware of what she’d do when she got to the retirement home; she just knew she needed to go there. She hadn’t seen her for a long time and felt that after the false news she had delivered her, she owed her a visit.

              Daphne had seen all about how Tim had gone missing on the news. Grace had called her with the developments but the phone call had been strained, neither woman having much to say to the other. Grace felt a twang of guilt that Daphne had been told her son was dead, in light of the fact that he actually wasn’t. Although, she hadn’t appeared to be overly distraught but then it wasn’t easy to tell over the phone. Grace thought maybe she hadn’t understood; Tim had said he thought she was losing the plot.

              She pushed open the doors of Poppy Field’s as she was buzzed in and ran down the corridor. Just before she got to Daphne’s room she slowed down and walked. There wasn’t any point in causing a panic and she wasn’t quite sure why she was in such a hurry. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

              “Daphne?” Grace tapped on her door which was ajar. There was no answer.

              “Daphne, it’s Grace can I come in?” At first she thought there was something wrong with her; there were strange noises coming from her chair. Then she wondered if she’d had another stroke. She wandered into the room and leaned over the chair Daphne was sat in.

              “Oh Daphne...” Grace pulled another chair up close to the fragile old woman and sat down. She picked up her bony hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Grace sat quietly with her mother-in-law and allowed her to cry. She’d never seen her like this before, not even when Jack died. She’d always thought her a strange old fish; cold and harsh. But looking at her now was like sitting with someone else. Someone she knew, not a stranger, which is how Grace had felt towards her in all the years she’d been married. The woman sat in front of her now had emotion in her face, making her look softer, more vulnerable.

              Grace suddenly realised she’d never spent the time making an effort to get to know her. She’d always taken Tim’s word that she was a vile human being. Eve obviously saw someone different.

              This thought reminded her why she was there and a shot of panic entered her heart.

              “Has Eve popped in for a visit today?” Grace kept her voice light and casual. Daphne looked up at Grace, squeezing her hand slightly.

              “What is it, Daphne?”

              “I’ve told her everything.”

              “What do you mean you’ve told her everything?”

              “Everything.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN                                                                   

              Chrissie was frozen to the spot; three things were circulating around in her head. Firstly, she thought that the person sat in her kitchen was dead but he appeared to be very much alive. Secondly, she was going to die. And thirdly, it had been him trying to scare her out in the garden all along.

              Chrissie looked from him to the clock on the wall, which seemed to be ticking louder than normal, warning her that her time was almost up. She prayed that for the first time in Sarah’s life she wouldn’t be late. The silence gave her time to think, to work out how she could get out of the situation alive.

             
She lifted her arm slowly up her back to try and reach the key behind her in the lock. She was watching Tim the whole time. He continued to stare at the table, picking at an old candle wax mark. She expected him to say something else but he didn’t. Her fingers found the key and she held her breath as she desperately tried to get her fingers to work without making too much noise. She bit her lip hoping beyond hope that the latch wouldn’t fly back, making a loud clunk like it usually did. She mentally pictured herself turning quickly, opening the door and running out. She felt slightly like she had done as a child when she and her sisters had been playing chase with one another and she was trying to get away from them. Only this wasn’t a game and she felt much, much worse.

              Tim continued to pick at the table and stare at nothing; his eyes were glazed; he’d stepped into another world. She could hear the thumping of her heart beating in her ears, almost in time with the loud ticking of the clock.

              Clunk, click. She grabbed the door handle; a whimpering escaped her lips as she heard the screeching of Tim’s wooden chair across the tiled kitchen floor. She banged the door against the wall and ran screaming down the path that led to the bottom of the house, the driveway, the footpath, the whole time anticipating a hand grabbing her. She daren’t look behind her; she just knew she had to keep going. Get into an area where there were other people. She didn’t want to knock on anyone’s door; she couldn’t risk them not answering. Great gulps of breath were straining her chest and neck.