Someone You Know
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‘Here you are.’
The door opens and Auntie Becca comes in.
‘I was worried when you weren’t in your own room.’
She kneels down next to me and I raise my head; her eyes, too, are puffy from crying. She takes my head in her hands.
‘At least you know now. You won’t have to keep wondering forever.’
‘I don’t want to know. I always thought we’d find her. I always believed that.’
‘Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. When’s Max coming?’
‘He’s not.’
‘I didn’t think he’d leave your side at a time like this.’
I could not tell her, but she’ll just keep asking questions until she knows the truth. Dad hasn’t asked me about Max, which is why I know he’s already spoken to him.
I curl up tighter.
‘Has something happened?’ she asks.
‘He’s met someone else.’
I can’t be bothered with the details. Somebody else is easier to blame than my failure to meet his ultimatum, and what other conclusion can I draw from another woman’s perfume clinging to him?
‘Oh, Tess, and at a time like this.’
‘I don’t care any more,’ I say, and it’s true. What is Max to me? He’s been a support system. Well, now there’s nothing left to support. Whoever slung Edie into that reservoir may as well have thrown me in, too. Becca seems to read my thoughts.
‘Tess, your dad needs you. He’s not strong and you’re all he’s got.’ My own misery has made me oblivious to his. ‘Vince is looking sick. I don’t think he’ll get through this without you. Especially when the press turn up.’
‘Are they here?’ I ask.
‘Not yet, but they’re coming. Maybe you could come and stay at ours for a bit.’
‘They’d only follow.’
‘Parasites,’ she says. ‘Look, Tess, why don’t you have a shower and come downstairs, try and eat something, talk to Ray. He’s taking this hard; you know how close he and Edie were. And most of all, you have to pull through this for your father.’
‘I’ll try,’ I say.
‘And there’s a police officer downstairs, Tess.’ She looks at me nervously. ‘I came straight up and didn’t speak to him. What’s he doing in the house?’
‘He’s the family liaison officer.’
‘I think you should get rid of him.’
‘He’s alright, Becca, he’s trying to help.’
She shakes her head.
‘You weren’t here, Tess, you’ve no idea how bad it got. The way the police treated Vince, the way they questioned him, as if he’d ever hurt Edie. You need to go downstairs and support him. Don’t let that liaison officer trick you into saying anything about Vince or Ray. The police are not our friends, Tess.’
*
I go through the mechanical routine of undressing and showering, and arrive downstairs bare-footed and with wet hair. DS Craven’s in the lounge sitting on the sofa next to Dad, his arms in a triangle on his thighs. Ray’s perched on the side, his chin resting on his hands. When he looks up his eyes are red. He comes over and hugs me and I rest my head on his shoulder.
‘Christ, I’m glad Gina didn’t have to go through this,’ he says.
Mum. Throughout all of this we’ve not mentioned her once. And my short-lived resolve at being strong for Dad crumbles. My legs go limp and I fall into Ray. He supports me and pulls me into the armchair. I want Mum, I want her to take me in her arms and tell me everything’s going to be OK, like she did when I was a little girl.
Ray kneels next to me.
‘You’re so much like her, Tess,’ he says.
Have I become like Mum? I try to picture her face compared to mine. Then I get it mixed up with Edie’s and become confused.
She and Edie were so alike, not just in looks, but they were also both animated and excitable. With no effort, people were drawn to them and wanted to be friends. Often, I’d arrive somewhere with Edie and people would say to her, ‘I didn’t know you had a sister,’ when they’d met both of us before; only Edie was remembered. And she’s never coming back.
Craven’s hovering in the background. Ray sees him looking at Becca.
‘This is my wife, Rebecca,’ he says. There’s barely disguised animosity in his voice. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Craven.’
‘Tony,’ Craven says. ‘I’m the family liaison officer.’
He offers Becca his hand. She gives it a cursory shake and purses her lips in substitution for a smile.
‘When can we have Edie back? We want the funeral to be as soon as possible,’ she says.
Craven’s on edge. Dad’s made it clear he doesn’t want him here and his manner is exaggeratedly calm, as if permanently fending off an overwhelming panic; he’s new to the job, I think.
‘The coroner will release the body once a second post-mortem has been carried out. It’s just a formality, so in about a week.’
‘Do they have an exact cause of death?’ Becca asks.
I ball my fists tight to brace against the answer.
‘The pathologist noted she’d received a blow to the head,’ Craven says. ‘Significant enough to render her unconscious, though she doubted it would have been fatal.’
‘So she drowned.’
‘We can’t be certain.’
‘You’re telling me they don’t know?’ Becca says.
‘The pathologist couldn’t give a definitive cause of death. I’m afraid it’s not uncommon in cases where the victim isn’t found for many years. I know you want answers and we’re going to do everything in our power to get them. We’ll be re-interviewing everyone and put out a fresh appeal for witnesses.’
‘After twenty years?’
‘You’d be amazed what people do remember. We can combine the appeal with a press conference and of course there’ll probably be a reconstruction.’
‘No chance,’ Dad says.
‘We’ve asked journalists to stay away from the house,’ Craven says. ‘But they’re only agreeing to a twenty-four hour period to let the family grieve. After that…’ He gives a slight shrug. ‘It would be easier if you just arranged to speak to them. We can discuss the appeal another time perhaps.’
Dad glares at Craven.
‘We’ll also be looking at any similar cases,’ Craven says.
‘Similar cases? Are you talking about a serial killer?’ Ray says.
My mind scurries away down dark tunnels. I look at Dad.
‘Please no,’ I say.
‘It’s just a possibility,’ Craven says quickly. ‘There’s no evidence of a sexual assault. She was fully clothed. Though, again, we can’t be certain.’
Ray brings his hands to his face.
‘Do you think someone held her, before they…’ I can’t say the words.
‘We believe Edie was killed soon after she went missing. The original investigation surmised this when they found her bag in the canal. And there’s an additional indication of this being the case from the post-mortem.’
Ray takes a sharp breath.
‘What indication?’ he asks.
‘The indentation to the skull contained tiny fragments of rust. It’s consistent with the composition of metal on the bridge crossing the canal. Unfortunately, the ironwork along the bridge wasn’t checked for blood at the time. Edie’s injury indicates she was attacked from behind and her head hit the metal struts.’
Becca flinches. Dad doesn’t move and remains staring at his hand. Ray looks from one to the other then to me.
‘Tess,’ he says. ‘Oh God, Tess. How could this happen?’
I can see it as a film running through my head, Edie bouncing along the path unconcerned, enjoying the June day, the shade by the canal, the dragonflies drifting through shards of light shooting between tree branches. Then it’s all gone. Just cold and endless darkness.
‘What happened to the photograph? Was it with her?’ I ask.
‘Which photograph?’ Craven asks.
Ray glances at Dad. They never believed my theory and it turns out they were right.
‘Edie always carried a photograph with her, of us as a family. It was missing when they found her bag.’
‘I remember now. It was in the notes but…’ Craven looks embarrassed. ‘Detectives at the time weren’t sure of its existence.’
‘They thought I’d made it up?’ I say.
‘No, it’s just you couldn’t say when you’d last seen her with it.’
‘She always took it with her,’ I say.
‘It wasn’t with her, Tess,’ he says. ‘And who else would have wanted it, or have known it was there? The new evidence only confirms the conclusions of the original investigation. That she was killed along the canal. We haven’t advanced much beyond that right now. Hopefully, a fresh appeal will bring new witnesses forward.’
*
When Becca and Ray leave, I return to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. Do I look like Mum? I lean in close. My hair’s started to dry, half is stuck to my face and half is sticking out. My eyes are red, but there is a resemblance. Not the pretty heart-shaped face and high cheekbones of the Swift girls, which she shared with Edie, just a light sketch of her features on my long, oval Piper face. Is that what Ray meant? Or was he just seeing what he wanted to see? Because it should have been the tall, beautiful twin standing here, not me, the small, plain one.
Passing Edie’s room on the way back to mine, I realise I’ve left the clothes, books and general junk in piles on the floor. Dad mustn’t find it like this. I start replacing the clothes on their hangers in the wardrobe and returning the books to the shelves. I pick up ‘The Case of the Missing Cakemaker’ scrapbook again. The cover’s torn where I threw other books on top of it; I try to tuck the hanging strip back inside the pages. As I do so, I see a piece of paper’s come loose. It must have been stuck under the cover. I pull it out. It’s a cutting from a newspaper dated from March 1994:
Sentencing in Gina Piper Death
Judge Lavinia Darlington sentenced Nathan Bexley to a two-year jail sentence, suspended for twelve months following his conviction for death by dangerous driving earlier in the week. Bexley was found to have blood alcohol levels two and a half times above the legal limit and was travelling at excessive speed when his HGV hit the thirty-year-old mother of two, whilst she was crossing the eastbound carriageway of the Hagley Road on 15 December last year.
Judge Darlington added that Mr Bexley’s lack of remorse and attempts to shift the blame on to Mrs Piper had caused her family additional distress. However, in mitigation, she did note that Mrs Piper’s actions could be considered reckless and this was taken into account when handing down a suspended sentence.
The article doesn’t tell me anything I don’t know. And I’m not sure why Edie took the trouble to hide it, until I see her bold, swirling handwriting in faded blue biro on the white border, a single word: Suicide.
Chapter 10
Edie: September 1993
Caitlin and Deanne kept their distance after the first day. And when the letter was sent, Edie and Tess managed to keep it away from Mum.
‘It wasn’t Tess’s fault,’ Edie told Dad. ‘Caitlin Powell’s a big, fat bully.’
He wasn’t quite the pushover they’d expected.
‘But fighting, it’s not like you, Tess, is it?’
‘I won’t do it again, Dad. Promise. You won’t tell Mum, will you?’
‘I think she needs to know, Tess. Have a chat with you.’
‘Please, Dad.’ Tess’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘She’ll go nuts.’
He sighed.
‘Alright then. But if it happens again …’
Edie wrote out the return letter for Dad to copy.
*
She’d been so anxious about the letter and making sure she and Tess didn’t run into Caitlin and Deanne outside school that she didn’t notice straight away that Valentina was gone. It wasn’t like they went round every day, just most days, and sometimes Valentina would go shopping or visit her sister. But she was always home in time to make Mr Vickers’ dinner. Now, Edie saw him park his car, slam the door with more force than usual and stride up the path. Valentina was nowhere to be seen. After a week, Edie and Tess started to miss her. Without Valentina, the only things to look forward to at home time were a smoke-filled house, Dad’s boring sports and gardening programmes, and nothing but toast to eat until Mum got back. Sometimes Edie would go and listen to her records. ‘The Snake’ was still her favourite. But it was ruined by Tess complaining and wanting to listen to pop music on her CD player. Coming home was rubbish if they didn’t go and see Valentina first. They couldn’t ask Mum where she was. For some reason she didn’t like them spending so much time at the Vickers’.
‘You could ask Mr Vickers,’ Tess said.
‘Why me?’ Edie said. ‘Why don’t you ask him?’
‘You’re much better.’
‘All you have to say is, “Where’s Valentina?” It’s not a big deal, Tess.’
‘You do it then.’
Edie huffed.
‘OK, I will.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Tonight,’ Edie said.
*
A knot formed in her stomach. She had always made fun of Martin Vickers and did impressions of his rants about ‘those bloody kids’, ‘eating me out of house and home’, ‘should be taken into care if their parents can’t look after them’. Tess would laugh then check over her shoulder, as if Mr Vickers were hovering there. Edie would never admit she was actually scared of him. She’d never seen a man so angry. Raquel told them that when her dad lived with them, he sometimes hit her. Edie wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. Their dad never so much as raised his voice. Even when one of their ball games destroyed his beloved plants, he’d just sigh and say, ‘Please be careful, girls.’ They never were. Uncle Ray laughed all the time and let them have anything they wanted. When Auntie Becca said, ‘You spoil them,’ he’d say, ‘Of course I spoil them, who wouldn’t spoil them. Look at them.’ Mr Vickers was different. He didn’t think she and Tess were ‘just so cute’ and he was angry all the time, even when he had a posh car and beautiful wife who made cakes. She didn’t understand him and that made her scared. What if he was like Raquel’s dad?
Mum came home at half past five. She asked them how their day had been, unpacked some shopping and started to chop vegetables. Just before six, Edie and Tess slipped out of the house. On cue, Mr Vickers’ car drew up. He got out and walked towards them, his face set in a scowl. Edie’s stomach tightened. She opened her mouth as he walked past but no words came out. Tess nudged her. The words still wouldn’t come. As he was about to enter the gate, Mr Vickers spun round. Edie took a step back.
‘What the hell are you two gawping at?’
‘We …’ Edie began.
‘Get lost. There’s nothing for you to scrounge today.’
He marched up the path and entered the house, slamming the door behind him.
Edie and Tess looked at each other and went back inside without speaking. Dad didn’t look up from the TV.
‘In here, you two,’ Mum called from the kitchen.
She was standing by the sink, her arms crossed.
‘Sit down.’
Edie and Tess shuffled onto the chairs under the kitchen table.
‘Was that Mr Vickers you were speaking to?’
‘No,’ Edie said. ‘Well, sort of.’
‘I’ve something to tell you,’ Mum said. ‘This is going to be difficult for you to understand, but Valentina’s gone away.’
‘We know,’ Tess said.
‘Is she at her sister’s?’ Edie asked.
‘I don’t know. The thing is, she’s not coming back.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s hard to explain.’ Mum looked down at the table. ‘Sometimes couples stop being friends.’
‘Like Raquel’s dad running off with that slag from the travel agent’s?’
‘Don’t use words like that, Edie.’
‘It’s what Raquel calls her.’
‘And Mrs McCann,’ Tess added.
‘Raquel and her mum can say what they like. I don’t want you two speaking like that and using words when you don’t understand the meaning.’
‘I do know what it means, Raquel told me.’
‘That’s enough, Edie. Don’t use those words and don’t go bothering Mr Vickers. He’s got enough to worry about without being pestered by a couple of silly ten-year-old girls, poor man.’
‘Poor, he’s not … he’s … he’s …’ Tess spread her arms.
Edie took up the sentence. ‘He’s a horrible, cross, mean and bad-tempered—’
‘I said enough.’
‘No wonder she ran away.’
‘Edie, I’m telling you once and for all to leave that man alone. You don’t understand. You’re just a little girl. One day you’ll realise …’
But Mum never told her what she’d realise. She’d turned away. When she turned back her eyes were wet. Edie hadn’t seen her mum cry since Grandpa Len died. She didn’t know what to do. Tess ran over and wrapped her arms round Mum’s waist.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tess said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Mum buried her face in Tess’s hair. She remained there a moment stroking it before standing straight again. ‘Now, go and sit down with your dad. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.’
Dad’s eyes pointed unfocused towards the TV screen as he drew on his cigarette. He didn’t notice when they slumped on the sofa, nor when Tess nudged Edie, pointed to the ceiling and they sneaked upstairs.
‘Why’s Mum so upset?’ Tess said when they reached their bedroom.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Valentina’s not come to see her. What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ Edie said.
‘I think Valentina’s dead.’
Edie considered this.
‘They’d tell us and if they didn’t, Mrs McCann would.’
‘What if they don’t know for sure?’
‘How could they not know?’
‘I think…’ Tess lowered her voice to barely a whisper. ‘I think he killed her. Mr Vickers murdered Valentina and said she’s gone to her sister’s.’
Edie pulled a face.
‘I don’t think …’
‘He’s always shouting at her.’
It was a big step from shouting at someone to killing them. But maybe Tess knew more than she did. Edie remembered her attack on Caitlin. If Tess had been bigger, if Mr Everett hadn’t stopped her … On the other hand, Tess obsessively watched detective shows on TV. Miss Marple, Inspector Morse, Sherlock Holmes. Not to mention all the true crime programmes. Her imagination was running away with her.
‘I’m not sure,’ Edie said.
‘If everyone thinks she’s at her sister’s and no one’s looking for her she could be dead. On the news I saw about a man who said his wife had run off with another man and twenty years later they found her body in a lake.’
‘But what if Valentina is at her sister’s?’
‘Then why hasn’t she come back to see us?’
‘She doesn’t want to bump into him.’
‘He’s not back until six. She could come every day.’
It was true, Valentina was supposed to be fond of them and when Edie thought about it, she was a little hurt that Valentina had not come back. She still couldn’t see Mr Vickers as a murderer. Not that she was entirely sure what one looked like. On the news they had cold, hollow-eyed expressions and didn’t smile. A bit like a passport photo. If you don’t smile, if you just stare, you look like a murderer. It was true Mr Vickers never smiled.
‘That’s why Mum’s so upset. Valentina hasn’t come to see her. I don’t think she’s even rung her,’ Tess said.
‘Even if he has killed her, how could we do anything?’
‘Follow him.’
‘If he’s thrown her in a lake he won’t be going back and anyway, there aren’t any lakes round here.’
‘There’s the reservoir at Lickey and it might not be a lake, it might be a canal or something,’ Tess said.
‘The canal’s too full of shopping trolleys.’
‘Or she could be in the freezer. I saw another programme where—’
‘Tess, she’s just gone away. You watch too much TV.’
Tess looked hurt.
Edie dismissed Tess’s ramblings. She loved her TV shows too much and was so desperate for a mystery in real life she invented strange motives and secrets to the most ordinary people. When their former teacher, Mrs Edge, had left midterm, Tess linked it to a large jewellery theft she’d seen on the news. Raquel’s dad’s infrequent visits were due to his work in espionage, despite Raquel telling them he was a boiler engineer at British Gas. But unease trickled into Edie’s mind when she thought about Mum’s reaction to Valentina leaving. Something was wrong, still, she dismissed what Tess had said until the following evening. Mum was out and Dad was in the garden when Tess ran up to Edie.
‘Quick or you’ll miss them,’ she said.
‘Miss who?’ Edie said as Tess dragged her to the front window.
Tess pressed her face to the pane so that her breath left a mark on the glass.
‘I told you,’ she said.
A police car was outside, double-parked next to Mr Vickers’ Rover. Edie was just in time to see two uniformed police officers go into next door. She caught the words ‘Mrs Vickers’.
‘See,’ Tess said.
She ran to the wall and put her ear against it.
‘I can’t hear what they’re saying,’ she said.
There was no need to have her ear to the wall for what happened next.
‘I bloody will not,’ Mr Vickers shouted.
Tess jumped back.
The crash from next door was so loud it made the room shake.
Another voice.
‘You need to calm down right now, mate.’
Some more scraping, another crash. Then the front door was open.
‘They’re coming back out,’ Edie said and Tess was back at the window.
They weren’t the only ones, the two houses opposite had the whole family gaping from indoors and Mrs McCann had come outside to watch. Raquel must have gone to Roswell Park, because there was no way she’d miss out on this.
A policeman led a handcuffed Mr Vickers from the door, his eyes fixed to the ground. The second policeman came out rubbing his jaw.
‘He must have hit him,’ Tess said.
Edie hadn’t seen Tess so excited since their school trip to Tutbury Castle, the most haunted castle in England. Ghosts were a close second to criminals in Tess’s list of interests.
‘He must be scared to hit a policeman, knows they’re on to him. Why do you think he didn’t run away before now? He must have known they’d come.’
The second policeman opened the car whilst the first shoved Mr Vickers into the back.
‘Do you think they’ve found the body?’
More neighbours were spilling into the street, unashamed of their gawping. The police car drove off.
‘You didn’t believe me, Edie, but this proves it. He’s a murderer. He killed Valentina.’
*
When Mum came home, Mrs McCann rushed out of her house and accosted her before she could even get to the door, no doubt filling her in on what happened at the Vickers’.
‘Did you hear what happened?’ Tess asked as Mum came into the lounge.
‘It would be difficult not to. Eileen’s a lovely woman but …’
‘But what?’ Tess asked.
‘Never mind. Just make sure you two don’t go around constantly gossiping and making up any bits you don’t know.’
Tess pulled an innocent face as if such things had never occurred to her. Mum walked through to the kitchen and left the door open. Tess wriggled on the sofa, desperate to talk to Edie about Mr Vickers. She pointed to the ceiling and Edie followed her upstairs.
‘What do you think happened?’ Tess asked.
Tess seemed more elated than horrified at the thought of Valentina’s death and Edie wondered how much she really believed it; though Mr Vickers’ arrest did support Tess’s theory.
‘Let’s watch the news,’ Edie said.
‘Yes, he’s bound to be on it,’ Tess said.
They watched the early evening and late news, national and local, without any mention of Mr Vickers and were sent to bed, disappointed. And they were further disappointed when a car pulled up outside and Mr Vickers arrived home.
‘How could they let him go?’ Tess asked, her face pressed to the window. ‘Do you think they can’t find the body?’
‘Maybe it’s nothing to do with Valentina.’
‘What else could it be? If we could find the body we’d help the police solve it.’
‘You’ve never solved a crime, Tess. Guessing the end of Poirot doesn’t count.’