Текст книги "The Attic Room: A psychological thriller"

Автор книги: Linda Huber

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

The headache slackened its hold, and Nina rose to her feet, only then noticing the blue plastic folder Sam had brought before he left. Heavens, she’d forgotten all about this. There might be something important in here.

She sat down again and switched on the desk light. There was a small family tree, rather like the one Emily had drawn, except this one had dates and full names. Paul’s mother had been seven years older than his father, she saw, unusual in those days. And beside George Wright’s name Sam had scribbled ‘last known residence 2011 in Thailand’.

Well. Abusing more children, perhaps. Disgusting old man. Nina paused. Paul had mentioned that his father spent time abroad, but of course it was possible that George Moore was back in the UK now. Was he on the sex offenders register? More questions for David Mallony.

Nina yawned as the warm milk and paracetamol took hold. Good, maybe she would get some sleep after all. Upstairs again, she curled up in the warmth of her bed, feeling her muscles relax. There wasn’t long to wait now. Another few hours and she’d be out of this house forever.

Chapter Nineteen

Claire’s story – The Isle of Arran

Claire pulled two lettuces from the farmhouse vegetable garden, but her thoughts were far away from the guests’ evening meal. It was time to write another letter to Robert, and this time she would send it. Lily’s death, six years after Bill’s, had forced her hand. If Claire was knocked over by a bus tomorrow, Robert was the one the authorities would get in touch with. The thought made her feel ill.

Claire pressed her lips together hard. Poor old Mum. Lily had never come to terms with being widowed; the loss of her husband somehow brought about the loss of her – gumption. Ever-worsening arthritis left her almost a prisoner in the house until eventually a stroke took her in her sleep. And how very alone and vulnerable Claire felt now. She knew how irrational it was, but the fear of death accompanied her through each and every day – the thought of Nina having to leave their island home to live with a bad-tempered father in England was horrifying. Nina loved Arran, and so did Claire. The farmhouse B&B was thriving, they had decorated and added new B&B rooms, and now that Nina was old enough to be a real help the place almost ran itself.

Tears stung in Claire’s eyes, and she brushed them away impatiently. She was being stupid – there was no reason to think she would die any time soon. But Nina was only thirteen, and the letter should be sent.

She checked directory enquiries to make sure Robert was still at the Bedford house. It wasn’t a hard letter to write because all she did was describe the situation. She was careful to say that money wasn’t a problem and she didn’t want anything else from him. But he should know. And oh, God, she really should tell Nina that Robert was alive. The poor girl ought to have the chance to forge some kind of bond with her father. But would Nina ever forgive her?

She would wait and see what Robert’s answer was before she did anything.

It wasn’t a long wait. Less than a week later a typewritten envelope with a Bedford postmark plopped through the front door. The letter inside was typewritten too, and very short. As far as Robert was concerned, the situation hadn’t changed. He had no interest in meeting Nina; he would, however, undertake to get in touch with her on Claire’s death, and she should take steps to make sure he would be contacted when this happened. The letter was signed R. Moore.

Claire stared at it blankly. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. So that was that. Robert was refusing to meet his daughter until she, Claire, was dead, so there was absolutely no point in endangering her own relationship with Nina by telling her about Robert. It was as well, maybe – she knew she couldn’t trust Robert with her child. On the other hand, there was the rest of the family – Nina had aunts, an uncle, a cousin – and Emily and Paul at least were nice people.

‘Mum – there’s a disco down the Bay on Friday, can I go?’ Nina and Bethany stormed into the kitchen, and Claire managed a smile.

‘Dad’s collecting me, he’ll bring Nina home too,’ said Beth, her arm linked through Nina’s.

Claire nodded, struggling to get the words out. Imagine if Nina had to leave Beth on the island. Chalk and cheese, they were, and closer than most sisters. Dear God – another five years – if she lived that long Nina would be grown up in both Scottish and English law. Robert would be powerless then. You’re worrying about nothing, Claire, said the sensible part of her head. But her heart didn’t believe it.

‘Oh, on you go then. I suppose this is the start of the sleepless nights while you’re out gadding,’ she said to Nina, who rushed to hug her.

Claire hugged back hard. Forget the family in Bedford. Nina’s home was here, on the island, and she had a mum with enough love in her heart to last her daughter a lifetime. Of course she did.

Chapter Twenty

Tuesday 25th July

It was well after eight the next time Nina awoke. For a split second everything seemed normal, but then she saw Naomi’s empty bed, and the memory of what Paul had told her the night before catapulted into her mind. She curled up into a tight ball, the pain taking her breath away.

She had been abused. Worse still, her father had organised it. It was the ultimate betrayal, and the only thing in the world to be glad about was she hadn’t known him. She’d never loved him. If Claire had known about this, she’d definitely have gone to the police. Or – Nina rolled ever closer into her ball as the pain became torture, searing through her mind – maybe that wasn’t as definite as she needed to think. John Moore might have been violent towards Claire too; that sounded quite possible now. If little Nina wasn’t physically injured, her mother might have thought that ‘least said, soonest mended, cut the ties’ was the best approach to take once they were back in Edinburgh with Grandma Lily.

Nina sobbed aloud. There was a dreadful logic about it all, but the odds were she would never know the answers. If Claire hadn’t known about the paedophilia, there would be no reason for her not to demand the financial help that John Moore, who had all that money, by rights owed them. But she hadn’t asked him. And didn’t that mean that she must have known, and was protecting them both by keeping well away?

A wave of longing swept through Nina. How she wished she could turn back the clock, back to those days of carefree childhood, running wild on Arran, knowing she was loved, knowing she was safe. All she felt now was hurt.

Balling one hand to a fist, she thumped the duvet. She was Nina Moore and she was strong. This was not the time to throw a wobbly, she could do that later when everything was settled here. She would get up and phone Beth – moral support from her oldest friend would be the best possible start to this first day of the rest of her life. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and then in spite of her good resolutions she slumped, her head on her knees. In a macabre way this felt like the day Claire died. Nina had spent terrible moments sitting exactly like this in the hospital waiting room, cold coffee in front of her, while Claire’s poor ravaged body was cooling in the hospital mortuary. The world had changed that day too. And today it was different again.

Forcing her mind back to the present, Nina pushed herself to her feet. She’d wallowed in self-pity long enough. It was Superwoman time and the first three things on the agenda were a shower, breakfast, and a phone call to Beth.

Paul was up already; she could hear the radio blaring out an old Beatles song downstairs. The routine of having a shower brought some normality back to the day, and so did the smell of coffee that greeted her when she went into the kitchen. She would get through this. Paul’s face was pale and apprehensive. He didn’t look as if he’d slept much last night either.

‘Morning. Are you okay? I saw you were up in the night.’ He waved towards her chocolate mug in the sink.

Nina took a yoghurt from the fridge and sat down opposite him. ‘Took me ages to get to sleep, but I’m fine now.’ A lie if ever she’d told one, but this wasn’t the time to start another soul-searching session.

He rose to pour coffee for them both, then leaned against the sink. ‘I’m sorry about what I told you last night,’ he said, fiddling with a teaspoon and not looking at her. ‘I should have left it. You didn’t remember, you didn’t need to know.’

Nina waved her spoon at him. ‘Truth’s always better. But I can’t stay here any longer, Paul. I’ll go to Cassie’s tonight, and head back up north as soon as I can, after this. Thanks so much for all your help with the photos, and for staying here last night.’

He smiled, but his eyes didn’t quite meet her own. It was clear he was unhappy. ‘Right. Well, I’d better be off. Work waits for no man. I’ll give you a ring later and see how you’re doing.’

He was halfway out the kitchen door before he’d finished speaking. Nina listened as he packed his bag and rolled up his sleeping bag, clearly in a hurry to leave. Was it work pressure – what did he do, actually? – or guilt at what he’d told her? He hadn’t asked what she was going to do with the information that their fathers had allowed others to abuse them, but he must realise she would go to the police. He could have done that himself, years ago. After all, he could remember what happened. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. Yet there was the story about the gun… but that could just have been bravado. He would hardly shoot his own father.

Thinking about George Wright reminded Nina of Sam’s file.

‘Paul!’ she called. ‘I found something yesterday that said your father spent some time in Thailand a couple of years ago, do you know about that?’

He stood in the hallway, bag in hand, unhappiness all over his face. ‘He used to go regularly, but he never stayed longer than a few months. I don’t know if he still goes. I imagine it was for the sex tourism. They’re a lot stricter about it now, thank God. I’ll talk to you later, Nina.’

Nina watched from the study as he flung his bag into his car and roared off towards the town centre. Poor Paul. She poured another coffee and took it through to the living room, comforted by its warmth in her left hand as she accessed Beth’s number on her mobile. This wouldn’t be an easy call.

Bethany was silent as Nina told her what had happened over the past few days. Nina could hear the wind in the trees; Beth must have taken her phone outside. She would be sitting in the farmhouse sun-trap, the old wooden bench with the view over the water to the mainland. Tears spilled from Nina’s eyes and she brushed them away impatiently. How soppy, getting teary over a flaky old garden bench. But like nothing else it brought home the contrast between this dingy, depressing house with its sad tales of abuse, and the island, where there was greenness and fresh sea breezes and people who loved her.

‘Dear God, Nina,’ said Beth in a low voice when Nina had finished her account. ‘Come home today, honey, there’s nothing to keep you there. I’ll come to Glasgow and meet you off the plane.’

Nina bit her lip. She wanted nothing more than to be back on the island – but if she went home today she would be running away from the new situation, instead of fighting it.

‘I’ll need to see the police again first,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and stay with Sam’s parents tonight, though. And there’s the great-aunt I’ve found – Emily Moore. She’s a real duck and I have to visit her again before we come home. But when I do get back I think I’ll never leave the island again.’

‘I wish I could help more.’ Nina could hear the misery in her friend’s voice. ‘Do you want me to come down, Nina? Tim would manage on his own for a day or two.’

Nina swithered. Beth’s presence would make things more bearable, but more complicated too. They couldn’t all stay with Cassie. And the B&B was more than one person’s job in the summer – Tim wouldn’t really manage on his own.

‘Don’t worry, Bethie. Cassie Harrison will take care of me as much as I let her.’

‘Nina – will I ask Mum if she knows anything?’ said Bethany. ‘Claire might have told her something about it, way back then.’

Nina considered. The two mothers had been good friends from the time of the family’s move to the island right up to Claire’s death. It was quite possible she’d confided in Morag James at some point. It would even be interesting to know if Claire hadn’t said anything to Morag.

‘Yes – but don’t say that I was abused,’ she said at last. ‘I’m not ready to tell people yet.’

Beth agreed, and Nina broke the connection feeling both comforted and bereft. But there was no time for tears; she had to phone Naomi now and sound like nothing was wrong, which was going to need all her acting skills. Naomi mustn’t know what was happening, not yet. For a moment Nina sat glaring at her phone. How the shit she was supposed to break all this to a ten-year-old she had no idea, but there must be people available who could advise her on that so she should see them first. Psychologists or something.

Ten minutes later she was congratulating herself on sounding upbeat and positive to both Naomi and Cassie, promising to join them late afternoon. That would give her time to close the house and talk to David Mallony about what – if anything – they could do about the abuse. ‘Alleged’ abuse, they would call it. Or even ‘historic alleged abuse’. It was depressing, this would come down to Paul’s word against his father’s, and most likely George Wright would deny everything. Paul would need a lot of inner strength to deal with it, and the fact that he hadn’t reported it himself was telling.

An odd thought spiralled into Nina’s head. Was it true? She thought of the anguish in Paul’s face last night, and the expression in his eyes when he’d talked about what had happened. Yes, she believed him. One hundred per cent, and the story was backed up by the paedophilia in John Moore’s computer too. With evidence like that the police would have to do something about George Wright. She would go now and talk to David Mallony face to face.

In the hallway she bent to lift the little pile of post lying behind the door. Most of it was advertisements, trite and happy little flyers contrasting starkly to her brave new world. There was a new Indian takeaway on the High Street, and the River Fitness Centre was having a half-price weekend at the end of the month, and – oh shit.

Hell. Her heart hammering behind her ribs, Nina stared at the envelope in her hand. Another anonymous letter. The same kind of envelope as the first one, the only difference being it was her name above John Moore’s address on the sticky label. And contrary to what David Mallony had supposed, this had been delivered by hand; it was under the pile of post – the letter-writer must have watched for the postman approaching then slipped his letter through the door first. Christ, what a ghastly thought. The scumbag had been right outside this door.

Nina dropped the letter onto the desk and used the paper knife and a pen to manoeuvre the single sheet of paper from the envelope and spread it out.

Her breath caught in her throat as she read.

‘Bring £20,000 in a sports bag to the crazy golf hut in Wicks Park at 1 a.m. on Wednesday 26th July. Leave it in the doorway. No police if you know what’s good for your daughter. We know where she is. And we’re watching you both.’

‘Oh God,’ she whispered. Naomi – but Naomi was fine, they’d just discussed the Harrison’s garden fence on the phone. But the letter said ‘we’. Who was ‘we’? Hands shaking, Nina reached for her phone.

David Mallony was calm. ‘You’ve done the right thing in telling us. I’ll consult the Superintendent now and get back to you. Don’t leave the house.’

Nina buried her face in her hands. She should never have stayed on here. It was a ridiculous way to spend the summer even if she was about to inherit a fortune. And how unbearable it was to think that Naomi was being threatened too. Money was nothing compared to what she and Naomi had together; Nina knew she would give up the house and all the money in a heartbeat if it meant that her daughter would be safe.

Her mobile rang and she grabbed it. That had been a quick consultation with the Superintendent.

But it was Bethany. ‘Nina, I spoke to Mum. She said Claire told her your father was a ‘big bully’ – those were her words – and that he’d been hitting you both around. I didn’t ask more till I’d checked with you but I’m sure there was no thought of sexual abuse in Mum’s head.’

‘And she didn’t say anything about Paul, my father’s cousin?’ Nina forced her mind away from the anonymous letter and back to the other end of the problem.

‘No. I could mention you meeting up with him and see what she says.’

Nina thought swiftly. There was no point in hiding things, least of all from Morag, who’d known her since she was five. The police were involved and unless she was very lucky it would soon be all over the tabloid press.

‘Tell her Paul remembers being abused and ask if Mum ever said anything. Thanks, Beth. I have to ring off, I’m expecting a call from the police – there’s been another anonymous letter.’

‘Oh shit. Nina, take care, honey. Speak to you soon.’

When her phone rang ten minutes later it was David Mallony.

‘Plan of action. It isn’t likely that this is more than one person, but it’s quite possible he’s watching you, so he mustn’t see that you’ve involved us. I want you to leave the house in fifteen minutes and walk to the supermarket on the corner. If the blackmailer’s watching he’ll follow you, but don’t worry, one of our men will be trailing you too. Try to act naturally, do some shopping. Leave the back door unlocked and we’ll go in via the street behind and wait for you. Okay?’

Nina gripped the phone. ‘Okay. Oh, and Paul Wright remembers us both being sexually abused as children. Apparently our fathers hired us out.’

There was a split second’s silence before he spoke again.

‘I’ll get someone onto it now.’

It was horrible, walking up the road knowing that the letter-writer could be observing her every move. Having police protection wasn’t much consolation; it was difficult not to look over her shoulder all the time. Nina arrived at the supermarket and wandered round, blindly filling a basket with a variety of miscellaneous items. Sensible shopping was the last thing on her mind. Walking back was even worse; her steps quickened as she approached the house, and shit, her heart was thudding away in her chest – supposing she passed out on the pavement? No, no, look, she was nearly home – oh God, it had never been home – but the police would be inside by this time and she would be safe, and oh, how she needed to feel safe.

Four men stood silent and motionless in the kitchen when she returned, various pieces of electronic equipment in their arms. David Mallony switched the radio on, and loud pop music blared out.

‘We’ll check the place hasn’t been bugged,’ he murmured, bending close to her ear.

Nina started to put her shopping away, banging cupboard doors. Surely the place wasn’t bugged? A few minutes later one of the men gave David Mallony a thumbs up sign.

‘All clear, boss.’

‘Did you really think I’d been bugged?’ said Nina, turning to David Mallony.

‘Almost certainly not, but with the technology available today it’s better to be safe than sorry. Okay. There didn’t seem to be anyone following you. Nina – ‘ His face became tight. ‘Tell me what your cousin said about the abuse he remembers you both being subjected to.’

Nina sank into a chair, leaning over the kitchen table while she related everything Paul had told her. Telling David Mallony was easier than telling Beth. He noted down the details.

‘I’ll pass this on,’ he said. ‘Okay, we have new information about George Wright. It now seems more possible that this blackmailing business could be down to him. He was involved in a very similar scam several years ago, pretending to be a victim.’

Nina remembered Paul’s face when he’d talked about his father. Her poor cousin. ‘That’s what Paul said. I should tell him about this. And Sam.’

‘Yes. Unfortunately we don’t know where George Wright is. He’s spent a lot of time abroad in the past ten years, but he’s also been back in the UK for spells in between.’

He was silent for a moment, his face neutral, then he leaned towards her. ‘Here’s the plan. It’s too dangerous for you to walk to the crazy golf hut with the cash, so we’re going to turn Sabine Jameson into your double and she’ll do it. She’ll be wearing a wire so we’ll hear everything that’s going on. Then we’ll be able to detain whoever picks up the bag.’

‘Right,’ said Nina. Thank God they didn’t want her to stroll through the park personally, a bagful of money in one hand. In the dark. Alone. Knowing there was a weirdo lying in wait for her. Hell, no.

‘What if the blackmailer notices it isn’t me?’ she said.

‘I don’t think he will. You and Sabine are the same build, and you both have blonde hair. Plus it’ll be dark, and we can arrange to have some of the lights in the park switched off. She’ll be wearing jeans and your sweatshirt or jacket. I’ll get onto her now to see when she’ll be here.’

He strode into the hallway to make his call. Nina sat with her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. Not two weeks ago she had been grieving about the senselessness of Claire’s death. Now she was a victim of blackmail and threats – not to mention childhood abuse. Talk about changed days.

David Mallony came back while she was trying to work up the energy to phone Paul and Sam.

‘Sabine’s on her way and she’ll stay with you for the rest of the day. She’ll appear at the front door in about half an hour and you’ll greet each other like long-lost friends. And if anyone at all asks, Nina – friends, family, anyone – you say that she’s a friend from university.’

‘Okay,’ said Nina. ‘I did secretarial studies in Glasgow.’

‘Fine,’ said David. ‘Now, when she arrives the two of you should hang about in front of the house for a minute to give the rest of us time to go out the back. Be noisy, move about so that anyone watching will keep right on watching. Sabine will stay with you till she leaves to go to the park.’

‘What about the money?’ asked Nina.

‘The two of you will take a bag to the bank this afternoon. You have to do that in case he’s watching you. You’ll be shown into a small room and the bag will be filled with money. Then you bring it back here.’

‘Real money?’

‘Fake money.’

Nina almost gasped. It sounded too incredible to be true. ‘I don’t think I’m cut out to be James Bond,’ she said, and David laughed.

‘You won’t need to leap across the rooftops. We’ll get him, don’t worry.’

He nodded reassuringly and left her still clutching her phone. Nina glanced at the time. Twelve fifteen. The number she had for Paul was a landline, but there was maybe a slight chance he went home for lunch.

Luck was on her side, for Paul’s phone was lifted on the fourth ring. Nina explained what was going on, omitting the detail that it would be Sabine who went to the park. Unsurprisingly, Paul sounded weary and upset.

‘Oh God, Nina, I don’t think it was a good idea, telling the police. They’ll never prove anything and it’s my word against my father’s now. It all sounds very dangerous to me.’

Nina swallowed hard. She was lying by omission here and it was so not what she wanted. She’d only just found Paul and here she was endangering their relationship by telling him fibs. But what else could she do? David’s instructions had been clear.

‘The police’ll be watching all the time. I don’t like it either, but we need to catch him.’

‘Right. I’ll come by again after work if that’s all right,’ said Paul, breaking the connection without saying goodbye.

Nina pursed her lips. It was clear he wasn’t happy, and who could blame him? And now she would have to explain what she was doing to Cassie.

Rather to her surprise Cassie took the news in her stride. ‘Make sure you do exactly what the police tell you, Nina. I’ll tell Naomi you can’t come till tomorrow because of business, will I? Oh, and is it all right if we take her to the pool this afternoon? We would both be in the water with her.’

‘She’ll love that,’ said Nina. ‘Thanks a million, Cassie. Tell Naomi I’ll call her later, and I’ll phone you tomorrow morning.’

Was she being too casual with her daughter, leaving her with Sam’s folks for such a long time? But it would be impossible to have Naomi here in the middle of all this, and the Harrisons were lovely people. As was their son, who was next on her list to call, and something was telling her Sam might not be quite as cool about what was going on as his mother was. And rats, his phone was taking messages.

‘Sam, it’s me. I’ll catch you later,’ she said. It was horrible having all this going on and Sam unaware of it. They’d parted on bad terms after yesterday’s call, and she didn’t want to be on bad terms with Sam. Either as a friend or her lawyer.

When the doorbell rang David Mallony gave her a little push.

‘On you go. It’s going to be fine. Remember this is your old friend, now – shrieks of joy, big hugs,’ he said.

Nina had never felt less like shrieking joyfully, but Sabine had obviously missed her vocation in the police force. She threw herself into her role with such enthusiasm that Nina responded almost as if she was meeting an old friend for the first time in years. They hugged fondly on the doorstep, then Sabine stepped back and pointed up to the top of the house, walking up and down the gravel, asking about the rooms. They remained outside, pointing and talking, for several minutes.

‘Okay. Shall we go in?’ said Sabine at last, grinning at Nina.

Inside, Nina watched as the young woman pulled a package from her bag and placed it on the living room table beside the photographs.

‘My wire,’ she said. ‘You’re doing really well here, you know. Let’s make coffee and then we’ll get off to the bank. The boss’ll have the fake money there by that time.’

Nina breathed out shakily. How normal it all sounded. Coffee and then the bank. There must be hundreds of people doing something very similar right this minute.

If only she was one of them.