Stephen Leather - Nightshade

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Tell you what? That I had a baby and she died? What good would that have done? You all came along later.’

‘That’s so sad.’ Sandra felt tears pricking her eyes.

‘She didn’t suffer. She just wasn’t meant to be born. Your dad said she’d gone back to be with the angels.’

‘Did you bury her?’

‘The hospital arranged a cremation and they had a vicar there.’ She wiped her eyes and smiled. ‘Not a day goes by when I don’t think about her,’ she said. ‘In a way I’m glad you know. It wasn’t a secret, it was just that your dad and I decided it was something we should keep to ourselves.’ She sipped her tea again. ‘What made you ask about Eadie now? After all these years?’

Sandra drank from her own mug as her mind raced. Telling her mum the truth would raise more questions than it would answer. How had Bella known about Eadie? She put down her mug. ‘It was a dream, Mum.’

‘A dream?’

Sandra nodded. ‘Just a dream.’

Will was sitting next to Bella’s bed when Sandra walked into the room. There was a tray on the cupboard on the other side of the bed, and Sandra lifted the plastic from the plate. There were two pale burgers, a spoonful of anaemic corn and three roast potatoes. Sandra could understand why Bella hadn’t touched the food. She replaced the cover and smiled at her husband. ‘Everything okay?’

‘We’re good,’ said Will.

‘I want to go home,’ said Bella.

‘Soon, honey,’ said Sandra. ‘The doctors have to be sure that everything’s okay.’

‘Everything IS okay,’ said Bella firmly. ‘I want to be able to sleep in my own bed.’

‘I’ll talk to the doctors,’ said Sandra. She pointed at the tray. ‘How about I order you some fast food? A pizza? Or I can go and get you KFC or Burger King if you want.’

Bella shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You have to eat, honey.’ Sandra looked across at her husband. ‘Do you want to get a coffee?’

Will stood up and looked down at Bella. ‘Are you okay if your mum and I go and get a coffee?’

Bella reached for the remote and began changing the channels on the wall-mounted TV. ‘Sure.’

Will and Sandra walked down the corridor towards the lifts. ‘The police want us to do a press conference,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘The woman from the press office said it was some quid pro quo thing they had with the media. They help us publicise the search for Bella and when she’s found we give interviews.’

‘I suppose that’s fair,’ said Sandra. ‘If it hadn’t been for the publicity the neighbours wouldn’t have phoned and …’ She left the sentence unfinished.

‘That’s what I thought,’ said Will. He pressed the button to call the lift. ‘And at least it’s good news, right? We just thank the police and the public. She said it might mean that they’ll leave us alone then.’ The lift arrived and they got in. Will pressed the button for the ground floor.

‘What did she mean? Leave us alone?’

‘You know what the tabloids are like. They’d have paparazzi hanging outside our house, following her to school, all that nonsense. But if we have a press conference and everyone gets their photographs and our quotes then they won’t bother us.’

Sandra frowned and ran a hand through her hair. ‘Do you believe that?’

‘I think we’ll still have paparazzi around but what she says about the quid pro quo is fair. We do owe them, especially the TV people.’

They arrived at the ground floor and walked to the canteen.

‘What did she say, your mum?’

‘You won’t believe it,’ said Sandra. ‘Mum and Dad did have another daughter, but she died at birth. They’d never mentioned it. To anyone.’

Will stopped and stared at her open-mouthed.

‘I know. It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? She never said anything, all these years.’

‘And the baby was called Eadie?’

Sandra nodded. ‘It was a family name.’

‘How the hell did Bella know?’

‘I wish I knew,’ she said. ‘Have you talked to your dad? About his father?’

‘He’s not answering his phone. You know what he’s like. Let’s get our coffee and I’ll try again.’

They joined the queue at the counter, picked up coffee and muffins, and took them to a free table. They sat down, and Will took out his mobile phone and phoned his father. This time his father answered. ‘Is everything okay?’ asked his father immediately. ‘Is Bella okay?’

‘She’s fine, Dad.’

‘I’m coming to the hospital tomorrow.’

‘There’s no need, Dad. She’ll be home soon. Really, she’s fine. Look, I have a quick question for you. What was your dad’s name?’ Will’s grandfather had died not long after his father had been born, felled by a major stroke after twenty years of smoking two packs of unfiltered cigarettes a day.

‘Arthur,’ said Will’s father. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Somebody was asking, that’s all. Look, I’ve got to go, I’ll let you know as soon as Bella’s home.’ He ended the call and stared at his wife in astonishment. ‘Bella was right,’ he said. ‘Grandpa Arthur. How could she know?’

‘Maybe your dad mentioned it sometime?’

‘Why would he?’

‘I don’t know, Will. He spends a lot of time with her. Maybe they talked about him.’

‘I don’t see why. Dad was just a kid when his dad passed away. And how do you explain the Eadie thing? Grandpa Arthur and Auntie Eadie, that’s what Bella said.’

‘What are you saying, Will? That she went to Heaven and met dead relatives that we didn’t know about?’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘That’s impossible.’

‘Is it?’ said Will. ‘You believe in Heaven, don’t you?’

‘Of course. But Bella didn’t die. She might have been unconscious for a few minutes but that’s not the same as dead, is it?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just trying to understand what happened.’

‘Does it matter?’ said Sandra. ‘We’ve got her back. That’s all I care about. Nothing else matters.’

Will smiled and nodded. ‘No arguments from me there,’ he said.

Sandra reached over and held his hand. ‘We should just count our blessings.’

Nightingale was wondering whether to light a cigarette or head down to the pub for a lunchtime drink when Jenny opened the door to his office. He looked up from his copy of the Sun . ‘Don’t you ever knock?’

‘Why would I knock? You’ve got no secrets from me.’

‘I could be in an embarrassing situation.’

‘I don’t consider struggling with the Sun ’s Sudoku to be that embarrassing,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I knew you’d want to see this.’ She handed him a computer printout. ‘The lab’s just got back to me. The only fingerprints on the knife and the crucible were yours and James McBride’s.’

Nightingale looked at the lab’s report. ‘That’s interesting.’

‘Well, it means that as you sure as hell didn’t set up the altar, it can only have been McBride.’ She dropped down onto the chair opposite him. ‘What do you think?’

Nightingale ran a hand through his hair. ‘I think that Jimmy McBride framed himself as a Satanist. Or at least was party to it. But why would he do that?’

‘Maybe he was disturbed. Schizophrenic, maybe. Perhaps he believed he was doing the work of the Devil.’

‘But nothing else about him points to that, does it? And while he might have set up the altar, he couldn’t have downloaded the Satanic stuff onto his computer. He didn’t have wi-fi.’

‘He could have taken the computer to somewhere that did have an internet connection.’