Steven Dunne - Deity

‘Yes.’

‘Where?’

Yvette smiled with remembrance. ‘On the beach at Rhyl. Me and Russell were having a day out in the holidays. Rusty, this beautiful young man, just walked up to me with a strange smile on his face and sat in the sand next to me. I’ll never forget what he said to me. He said, “I’ve found my soulmate.” And he had.’

‘Where was Russell when this was happening?’

‘He was having a ride on a donkey.’

‘This would be in 2007.’

‘If you say so.’

‘When Russell died the year after, how old was he?’ The tears started again. ‘Fifteen.’

‘And how old is Rusty?’

Yvette shook her head. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘You don’t know?’ said Brook, surprised.

‘Older.’

‘Well, how old was he when you met him?’

‘Four years younger than he is now,’ she sneered.

‘You’re telling me you don’t know how old your lover of four years is?’

‘Twenty? Twenty-five? Maybe older.’

Brook took a sip of water. ‘I find it incredible that you don’t know.’

Yvette shrugged. ‘It never came up. We were in love. It wasn’t important.’

‘Never came up,’ Brook repeated. Then: ‘You’re an orphan, Yvette. It must’ve been tough so I’ll try not to judge.’

‘What does that mean?’ she growled at him.

‘It means that everything that happens is all about you, isn’t it? What you want. What you need.’

Yvette looked down at the floor, searching for a rebuttal.

‘I. .’ She shook her head.

‘What about Rusty’s real name? Did that come up?’

Yvette took offence at Brook’s tone and replied icily, ‘He said it was Ian.’

‘Surname?’

She shook her head, shamefaced. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Did you ever see any ID — passport, birth certificate, driving licence?’

‘Nothing.’

‘How about credit cards?’

‘Rusty has no use for money. He says it imprisons those who have it.’

‘Does he? So you have no idea if his name is really Ian.’

‘No.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘Rusty said he didn’t exist before he met me. He really loves me, you see.’

‘Why did you kill Russell?’ asked Brook.

‘I didn’t kill him,’ replied Yvette firmly. ‘He killed himself.’

‘But he was your son and you didn’t report him missing. Why?’

‘He wasn’t missing. He was dead.’

‘Then why didn’t you contact the police to identify his body?’

‘Because. .’

‘. . they would’ve asked why you didn’t report him missing,’ said Brook before Yvette could answer. ‘Your son has not had a decent burial. He has no grave to mark his passing. How do you feel about that?’

‘Terrible,’ she replied. ‘What mother wouldn’t?’

‘Then why allow that to happen?’

‘I didn’t see the point of it,’ she snarled at Brook.

‘No use crying over spilled milk?’ suggested Brook. No reply. ‘Why did Rusty kill him?’

‘Russell committed suicide. He did it of his own accord. Ian — Rusty — told me.’ She began to cry. ‘Russell was depressed. He was being bullied. Rusty just. .’ She closed her eyes, forcing more tears down her cheeks.

‘What? Encouraged him?’

She nodded. ‘I didn’t know, I swear. Rusty told me later. He said it was for the best, that Russell would always be unhappy. He said he realised as soon as he met him that Russell was a soul in torment. Rusty — Ian — was just waiting for the right time to. .’

‘. . help your son end his life,’ said Brook.

She hung her head. ‘Rusty’s very persuasive. He could charm the birds out of the trees. He was Russell’s friend, he supported him. He said it was for the best, best for Russell too. He was too sensitive to live; he’d always be in pain. That’s how he put it. He said I shouldn’t say anything. If the police got involved or found out who Russell was, then they’d make him a scapegoat and put him away, and. .’

‘. . you’d be alone again.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why couldn’t they identify his body? There wasn’t even a dental record.’

‘I took him to the dentist when he was small. The first time, he screamed the place down, wouldn’t let the dentist near him. Nothing worked. I told you — he was sensitive, see?’ She shrugged. ‘I looked after his teeth best I could from then.’

‘But why did nobody else know who Russell was or report him missing?’

‘We’d just moved into the cottage two days before. Nobody knew us.’

‘And that made it the right time for Rusty to carry out his plan,’ observed Brook.

Yvette looked down at the table. ‘We’d had to leave Prestatyn because Russell was being bullied. We hadn’t even started the new school. Only the landlord knew I was in Denbigh and he never saw Russell. They’d gone out for a walk together. My two lovely boys.’ She smiled wistfully, then her face hardened as she looked at the picture of the hanging. ‘We left at the end of the month. Me and Rusty. The school weren’t going to fret over a boy they’d never seen. Besides, if anyone asked, Rusty had become my son.’

‘So your son, Russell, just ceased to exist,’ concluded Brook. ‘Why not just send Rusty to the new school instead of Russell?’

‘I couldn’t live there after what had happened. What sort of person do you think I am?’

Brook glanced up at Noble’s expression of disgust. PC Patel was trying to keep a poker face. ‘So you moved away again.’

‘Yes.’

‘And got rid of all the pictures of your son.’

‘Rusty said I had to, if he was going to take Russell’s place properly. He had to become him in every way. He was very good at it. He dressed like him, talked like him, picked up all Russell’s mannerisms, pretended he was shy and nervous. .’

‘. . but he was far from that,’ said Brook. ‘He changed your son from victim into bully. He couldn’t help himself, could he? How ironic. He became just as much trouble to schools as Russell had been; only this time others were on the receiving end of his viciousness. And instead of verbal taunts and threats he used the computer.’

‘There were some issues, yes.’

‘Issues with your new son’s behaviour that meant you had to keep moving around as much as before.’

‘We didn’t mind as long as we could be together, don’t you see?’ pleaded Yvette.

‘Perfectly. You were so desperate and needy that you allowed your lover to kill your son.’

‘You’re making me sound like a monster.’

Noble snorted from his position at the back wall.

‘Am I?’ said Brook, flashing Noble an admonishing glance.

‘You know you are. You’re twisting everything. And I’m not stupid. I know that’s how it looks but I’m really not. I was a good mother but Russell was dead,’ explained Yvette. ‘Don’t you get it? I didn’t know it was going to happen, but it did. There was nothing I could do to bring Russell back.’

‘If there had been, would you have done it?’

Yvette fiddled with the hem of her skirt and absorbed the question. ‘Of course.’

‘Even if it meant standing up to your lover?’

‘I’m a mother,’ insisted Yvette. ‘I would have done anything to protect my son.’

Brook was silent for a moment. ‘Let’s move on to your relationship with Len Poole.’

‘What relationship?’

‘You tell me,’ said Brook. ‘There’s no reason to hide things now, is there?’

Yvette stared at him for a few minutes before coming to a decision. ‘I suppose not.’

‘Start by telling us when you first met him.’

‘I was fourteen. He was at the orphanage.’

‘St Asaph’s School for Boys and Girls?’