Martin Edwards - The Cipher Garden

‘Why not? I may have changed my mind about tracing my birth mother, but everything is copy. Grist to the mill.’

‘You can’t, it’s too close. Too personal.’

‘Like telling our bedroom secrets?’ She laughed. ‘If you could only see your face! Come on, darling, lighten up.’

‘Sam got his just deserts,’ Marc said.

Rain had streaked Sam Howe’s face as he stared down at his half-brother’s body. Impossible for Hannah to imagine what was running through his mind. No need to make sure Oliver was dead; the fork buried in his windpipe left no room for doubt. She huddled on the ground, breath knocked out of her, body throbbing with pain. Not making a sound, not daring to move. Would she be next?

Sam spat on the ground and turned on his heel. Hannah closed her eyes, heard Sam pounding down the path. The van door banged, the engine growled, tyres screeched.

Scarcely the perfect getaway. Sam always drove too fast, it turned out that he was famous for it. Half a mile down a lane greasy from the downpour, he’d skidded round a bend at sixty and crashed into an oncoming tractor. The farmhand escaped with shock and whiplash, but Sam hadn’t bothered with his seatbelt. He was hurled through the windshield, smack into the oncoming cab. Dead on arrival at A amp;E.

‘Saved the need for a trial, I guess.’

‘And a lot of embarrassing questions.’

Hannah rubbed her side. It still ached, but the yellow bruise from Sam’s fork was fading. Banishing the nightmare vision of Oliver’s lifeblood spilling on to the ground, would take longer.

‘Embarrassing questions are the last thing on my mind.’

Interviewing Bel had been a nightmare of embarrassment. And heart-rending pity. In the face of disaster, the woman had acquired a weird dignity. She still dressed as if for a fashion show, the make-up was applied with the old finesse. She’d closed the restaurant — until further notice — but it remained spick and span. She spoke distantly, yet readily, like an emotional soulmate of Miss Havisham. Perhaps she’d persuaded herself she was going to wake up soon to find Oliver cooking dinner next door in the kitchen.

‘As soon as I told Warren I was expecting a baby, he dumped me. He’d kept pestering me to go out with him, but no way could you ever get him to shoulder responsibility. He wasn’t a savage man, Mr Kind, not a wife beater or a fighting drunk. But I never met anyone more selfish. Or more ruthless when it came to taking pleasure.’

‘And then he started going out with your best friend.’

‘Rubbing salt in the wound, yes.’

‘Did she know you were pregnant?’

‘God, no. I truly believe she was tormented by guilt simply because he’d dumped me for her. For a while, she and I kept our distance. Even when Warren gave her the push, and the two of us made up, I didn’t tell her about the baby for a long time. To tell you the truth, I felt so alone.’

‘You kept the pregnancy secret?’

‘Until I was so far gone that I had no choice but to tell my mother. I wanted to have an abortion, I hated the very thought of giving birth to Warren’s child. But Mum wouldn’t hear of it. She gave out that I’d been taken ill and whisked me away to an aunt in Hexham. That’s where I had the baby.’

‘And you gave him up for adoption.’

‘I told Warren our baby was born dead.’ She flinched, but did not lose her spooky calm. One day reality would hit her. Hannah didn’t want to be around when it happened.

‘It was the only solution. Mum said she wouldn’t allow me to ruin my life because of one mistake.’

‘When did you tell Roz?’

‘After I came back from Hexham. One night when we were listening to music in my bedroom I broke down in floods of tears and it all came out. I made her swear that she’d never tell a soul. I wanted to airbrush the whole horrid episode out of my mind. Make believe it never happened.’

Hannah nodded. There was nothing she could say.

‘I swore to myself I’d never think about the child again.’ Bel lifted her chin. ‘And you know what, Chief Inspector? I never did.’

Roz hadn’t wanted to talk. She blamed herself for spilling the beans to Kirsty, kept saying that if she’d held her tongue, the girl would be alive to this day. She only agreed to an interview when she found Bel was willing for her to tell the story.

‘When did you realise Oliver was Bel’s son?’ Hannah asked.

‘It didn’t click at first, but one night, I was eating on my own in the restaurant. Chris had gone missing, I didn’t care to cook for one. The Howes were celebrating their wedding anniversary. Oliver came out from the kitchen to serve and for an instant I saw him framed in between Warren and Sam and saw a resemblance. It was subtle, I’d never noticed it before, but seeing them together set off like a lightning bolt in my mind. I wondered if the similarities might be coincidence. Oliver didn’t look much like Bel — but then, there’s something about the shape of the nose. And he had her gentleness, too, poor man.’

‘He was the right age to be the lost boy.’

‘And he’d turned up in Old Sawrey out of the blue. The Lakes attracts more than its fair share of drifters, and I didn’t want to let my imagination carry me away. So I made it my business to talk to him the next day while Bel was out visiting the wholesaler. It didn’t take me long to wheedle out that he was adopted. I asked outright if he was Bel’s son. At first he lied, but his shock was a dead giveaway. In the end he admitted that he’d become obsessed with finding his parents. He believed it would give a meaning to his life. It hadn’t been difficult to trace Bel. What he hadn’t reckoned for was that the two of them would become besotted with each other.’

‘He admitted that?’

‘You only had to see them together to know. I warned him he was playing with fire, that it would be a kindness to tell her the truth. She might lose a boyfriend, but she’d gain a son.’

‘And he refused?’

‘He begged me to let them be. And he can be very persuasive.’ Roz tipped her head to one side, a faraway look in her eyes. ‘Right now, she needs me as a lover. Not as a reminder of the worst time in her life.’

‘So you promised to keep quiet?’

‘Whatever my other faults,’ she said dryly, ‘I have at least proved I’m good at keeping confidences. Whether that’s been for the best in the long run — different story.’

‘You knew she was his mother and yet…’

‘Listen, Bel had been wretched for a long time. Yes, she was fond of Tom and she nursed him selflessly during his illness. But no way was it a grand passion; she settled for comfort and security when she married him. I’d never seen her so happy, not since her first date with that bastard Warren Howe. Meanwhile Warren was sniffing round her again. He’d tired of Gail and was looking out for fresh fields to conquer. I doubt if he ever fancied anyone more than Bel, not even Tina. She knows how to satisfy a man, I think. My nightmare was that if she lost Oliver, in desperation she’d turn to Warren, despite what he’d done to her all those years ago.’

‘You really didn’t care for Warren, did you?’

‘I hated him, is that blunt enough for you?’ Her smile was icy.

‘You were explaining why you didn’t tell Bel that she was sleeping with her own son.’

‘I’m no guardian of morals, Detective Chief Inspector. Pragmatism is the best most of us can hope for. Oliver was very different from Warren. Sensitive and passionate. He would look after Bel, I was confident of that. I’d stolen one lover from her and that was one too many. If I’d said something to her, warned her off — I’d have ruined two lives. What would you have done?’