Unfinished Business (21 page)

“We have to talk to you Maggie, it’s important,” said Brodie, brushing her aside and stepping into the house. Cass followed, grimacing as she got an earful of Maggie’s hacking cough.

After more phlegm throat-clearing Maggie finally recovered her voice. “Get the hell out of here, I don’t want you in my house.” Her eyes fixed on Cass. “Who are you?”

“This is Cass, she works for me,” explained Brodie. “We’re not going until you start talking. Women are dying and it has to stop.”

“What are you on about?” she said, sparking up another cigarette.

“The Carver.”

The lines in her face popped out as she frowned, eyes disappearing into the folds of wrinkled skin. “What the fuck has that got to do with me?”

“I think you know. You’ve always known Maggie.”

She sighed and took a deep drag on the cigarette then raised her face to the ceiling, smoke spilling over her lips.

“It’s not going away, you can’t bury your head in the sand anymore.”

“Fine,” she eventually spat. “We’ll talk but you keep your voices down. Lauren’s asleep upstairs and I don’t want her disturbed.”

Neither did Brodie. He’d had enough of being molested.

They followed Maggie into the brown lounge and she gestured for them to sit with a wild stab of the cigarette. Brodie glanced at Cass and saw her eyes flicking about the room. From her expression he knew she was thinking exactly the same thing he had on his first visit here.

“Get on with it then, Seth’s due back in an hour,” said Maggie, sitting in the chair by the television and crossing her skinny, wrinkled legs.

“Your husband Bryan was The Carver,” opened Brodie. “Somehow Seth found out and now he’s copying Daddy in an attempt to impress you.”

Maggie released a smoky snort. “Seth’s never tried to impress me in his life, he doesn’t give a shit what me or anyone else thinks.”

“He does, every little boy cares what his Mummy thinks.”

“So you think he’s The Carver and he’s killing these women, to do what? Make me give him pocket money again?” she sneered. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Did Bryan tell you he was the Camden Carver?” said Brodie.

Maggie hesitated, thrown by the sudden change in topic. It was one of Brodie’s favourite interview techniques because in that split second of confusion you could usually spot an emotion that the subject wasn’t quick enough to hide. It was the case now. For a moment Maggie had genuinely looked scared.

“You did, didn’t you?” he pressed.

Her features arranged themselves into a good impression of rock. “I knew nothing.”

“You didn’t wonder why your husband kept disappearing at night?”

Maggie leaned forward in her seat and pointed her cigarette at him. “He kept beating the shit out of me and the kids so it was a relief when he was out of the house. Plus you never questioned Bryan. If you did you got a fist in your gut.”

“I can understand that.”

“No you can’t,” she hissed.

“I can,” he said with meaning. He’d never forget the feel of those fists when he was a kid.

“Oh,” said Maggie, deflating slightly.

He cleared his throat before moving on, pushing the unwelcome memories aside. “You just have to look at Lauren to know the past is still here, haunting you all. No wonder Seth feels the need to copy it.”

“He is not The Carver,” she snarled.

“Yes he is and you know it.”

She shot to her feet. “That’s it, I’ve done talking. Fuck off.”

“Maggie, women are dying. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It’s sod all to do with me.”

“It’s everything to do with you. You’re at the centre of it. Every woman in the original case resembled you and the women dying today look like a younger version of you.”

“Lots of women have dark hair and eyes.”

“No, it’s more than that. Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you’re still alive.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded, her hand holding the cigarette shaking slightly.

“I mean every time Bryan killed a girl he was really killing you and his mother.”

“That is a load of bollocks,” she yelled.

“You’re shaking Maggie.”

“No I’m not.”

“You know I’m right. Bryan’s mum abused him and at first he was killing her each time he killed a girl, but you reminded him of his monster mummy so you became the focus of his anger instead. He was working his way up to killing you. Or did he try? Is that why he ended up dead?”

“Stop it. Get the fuck out of my house right now.”

“We’re going nowhere until we’ve got the truth. What did you do when you went into the back garden after your husband was killed? Were you hiding evidence of his guilt before the police arrived?”

“Leave me alone,” she bellowed.

“What’s going on? Why are you shouting Mum?” said Lauren, entering the room, eyes bleary, hair tangled.

“Go back to your room,” Maggie told her.

But Lauren wasn’t listening. “Brodie, you’re back. I’m so glad to see you.” She ran to him and flung her arms around his waist while throwing Cass a jealous glare.

“Don’t go getting attached Lauren,” hissed Maggie. “He was just leaving.”

“I want him to stay.”

“Go to your room, we’re talking.”

“I don’t want to go to my room,” she said, jutting out her lower lip, keeping her arms locked around Brodie.

“Your mum’s right Lauren,” he said, attempting to gently unwind her arms from him and failing. “We’re talking about things you don’t want to hear.”

“I don’t care, I’m sick of being treated like a child and being shut out of things. I want to know why you were shouting.”

“No Lauren,” said Maggie.

“Yes,” she yelled, stamping her foot. She released Brodie and rounded on her mother, dissent in her eyes. “I will not be kept in the dark any longer. You
will
tell me what’s going on.”

“Brodie wants to know if Seth killed your dad,” said Cass.

Lauren flung herself back against the wall in terror, eyes wild. “Why do you want to know that?” she gasped.

“Lauren, go to your room right now.” Maggie turned on Brodie. “Do you see what you’ve done?”

He ignored her. “Who was it Lauren?”

She had the look of a trapped animal, her mouth opening and closing with indecision.

“Do you know what Seth’s been up to?” he pressed.

“Don’t answer him,” said Maggie.

“He’s been hurting women, hasn’t he Lauren?”

Violently she shook her head, screwing her eyes tight shut, tears squeezing from the lids.

“You have to tell the truth Lauren before more women die, young, innocent women with their lives ahead of them.”

“Stop it,” she whimpered, burying her face in her hands, black hair hanging over her face like a curtain.

“Brodie, go easy,” said Cass.

“People have told you what to do your whole life but now you can set yourself free,” he pressed. “You can end this now Lauren, for once in your life you have control.”

That got her attention. She looked up at him, hair falling back from her tear-streaked face. “I do?”

“Yes. I know how unhappy you are. You can change things with one little word. Did Seth kill your dad?”

“I did it,” yelled Maggie, angrily stabbing out her cigarette in an ashtray.

Lauren cringed and buried her face in her hands again while Brodie and Cass turned to her.

“Really?” said Brodie.

“Yes,” she replied weakly. Maggie’s legs gave way and she sank into a chair. “He went for me again and I couldn’t take anymore, not one single second. So I stabbed the bastard.”

Lauren whimpered into her hands.

“And I don’t regret it for one minute,” she rasped in her husky voice, lighting up another cigarette.

Brodie was disappointed. Somehow this wasn’t what he’d envisioned. There was no triumph, no sense of justice finally being done. The moment fell flat.

“You let your son take the blame for something you did,” said Cass with disapproval. “Great mothering.”

“Do you have kids?” demanded Maggie, eyes narrowing.

“No.”

“Then keep it shut you barren bitch.”

“Do not speak to my associate like that,” said Brodie even though he knew Cass wouldn’t be in the least bit bothered by the insult. She’d never aspired to being a mother.

“I had two other kids to think of,” continued Maggie. “Their dad was dead, the boys were under eighteen and Lauren was only fourteen. Look at her. What do you think would have become of her in one of those children’s homes? Mark volunteered to say he did it. He’d no record like Seth, we knew with the history of abuse he wouldn’t serve very long in prison.”

Brodie stared down at her hard. “You’re lying. You’re protecting Seth.”

“That’s the truth. If you don’t like it then tough. Seth’s not a killer but I am so I suggest you leave quickly.”

Brodie recognised he was getting nowhere with her so he turned back to Lauren. “Is that how it happened?”

She was too choked up to reply, trembling and crying into her hands.

“Lauren?”

“Brodie, leave her be,” said Cass, feeling sorry for the poor girl.

“There’s no point repeating this to anyone because I’ll only deny it,” said Maggie. “And I’ll tell the police you burst in here and threatened us. Get out and this time don’t come back.”

“If you think you can fob me off with that crap explanation then you’ve got another thing coming,” said Brodie. “Seth was responsible for killing Bryan Flynn. He knew all about his dad’s activities and now he’s trying to be him only this time he might finish what he started. Why don’t you do yourself a favour and tell the truth for the first time in your life?”

“Get out of my house,” she said, getting to her feet and turning her back on them all.

Lauren was still sobbing into her hands. Brodie gently placed a hand on her arm, encouraging her to look up. “I’m really sorry about that hen,” he said. “But until the truth comes out you will always be weighed down by it. I’m only trying to help you and other women who are at risk.”

She looked up at him and nodded, eyes saucer-wide.

“You don’t need to be afraid any longer,” he whispered.

He straightened up and jerked his head at Cass, indicating it was time for them to leave. He hesitated by Maggie and said, “watch your back. Seth’s started something and he intends to finish it.”

“Fuck off,” she growled.

“Well that was an experience,” said Cass once they were outside. “Are you sure Maggie’s really a woman?”

“As sure as I can be without getting up close and personal and I’ve no intention of doing that.”

“What’s the next move? Tackle Seth head on?”

“No, I want to talk to Mark. He’s the weak link in the Creegan chain of psychos. Let’s see if he’s still getting loved up at home. If he’s not there we’ll try his shop.”

“He won’t talk to us again after you shouted at him and called him a windbag.”

“He was only posturing for Sarah’s sake. He might be different alone.”

“I doubt it,” she said as they climbed into the Astra.

Brodie had to repeatedly slam his door to get it to stay shut, but every time he tried it popped open again.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” he said while Cass sat beside him, smirking. “Ah ya bastard, come on…there it is,” he said when the door finally remained shut. “See, there’s nothing wrong with her.”

“You won’t be saying that when the door falls off. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Have a little faith,” he said, starting the engine, which spluttered before coughing into life, reminding him of Maggie’s respiratory tract.

Cass’s phone rang and she frowned at the screen. “It’s Matt.”

“That wee wank. What does he want?”

“I’ll find out.” She put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”

Brodie kept one ear cocked on the conversation as he drove.

“Really, when?” she said.

He was tempted to glance her way and gauge her expression but instead he waited until she’d concluded the call, smiling when she unceremoniously hung up on Matt.

“Another woman’s gone missing, dark haired and dark eyed,” she explained. “Twenty seven. Name of Emily Spencer. Disappeared after a night out clubbing.”

“Already? Jeezo, he’s escalating. He’s never taken another one so fast. I’ll give DS Clarke a bell after we’ve spoken to Mark.”

“If this is to do with Seth or Mark you don’t think our interference is pushing him to kill faster? What if he feels we’re closing in on him and he wants to kill as many as he can before he’s caught?”

“What are we supposed to do? Not investigate and leave him free to kill?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Don’t feel guilty about it for a second, this is
his
fault, not ours.”