Tanya Farrelly - The Girl Behind the Lens - A dark psychological thriller with a brilliant twist

‘But you knew … about me?’

‘Yes, he told me one night … he was upset.’ He glanced at Rachel Arnold, giving Joanna the impression that he didn’t want to say too much in front of her.

Joanna looked at Rachel, unable to decide whether she should hate this woman for making her father disown her, or feel some allegiance to her as another victim of her parents’ deceit. If she were to find out anything about her father, she decided, she had better keep her resentment in check. These people were her only link to him. Family by blood if nothing else; at least, Patrick was. She looked at him, curious, wondering if he bore any resemblance to Vince. She looked again at the picture Rachel had given her. ‘I’ll ask her about it,’ she told her, putting the photo in her bag.

‘Business must be good, Ollie.’ Patrick Arnold strolled around Oliver’s office, and then paused, where Oliver had stood only a moment before, to look down onto the quays.

‘No shortage of divorces right enough,’ Oliver said. ‘But I assume that’s not what’s brought you here?’

Patrick gave a short laugh. ‘No, but I might be putting a bit of business your way.’

‘Oh?’ Oliver sat on the edge of the desk and scrutinized Patrick Arnold. Time had been good to him. It must have been, what, fifteen years since he’d seen him?

Patrick crossed the room and put his hands on the back of the swivel chair in front of Oliver’s desk. ‘My brother owed a lot of money. In fact, he was deeply in debt. Gambling – dogs, horses, anything that moved he put money on it. Six months ago he took out a life assurance policy. I expect there’ll be questions asked: you know what these insurance companies are like; they’ll use anything they can find to get out of paying.’

‘Are you saying your brother’s death might have been suicide?’

Patrick shook his head. ‘No, but they might start poking around, trying to make it seem like that. There’s no way Vince killed himself. We just got the result of the autopsy and it says he died of heart failure from hypothermia, not drowning. Ever heard of someone freezing themselves to death?’

‘Still and all, seems a bit strange, doesn’t it? That he’d take out an insurance policy, and six months later he winds up in the canal.’

‘That’s what I’m saying, Ollie. There’s no way they’ll let something like that get past them.’

‘And why do you reckon he decided to take out the policy?’

‘Loan sharks. He’d borrowed money from a lot of sources, and not all of them legit. I’m guessing he was afraid of what they might do if he didn’t pay up, and that brings me to the next question – there are several parties who might come looking for what they’re owed and Rachel’s worried that she’ll have to pay them. She’s already been getting calls from some bookie that Vince ran up a debt with.’

‘Back up a second and let me get my head around this. You’re saying that your brother took out life assurance because he was concerned about some dodgy characters he owed money to. And you’re also telling me that the autopsy said that Vincent died of hypothermia – that there was no water in the lungs?’

‘Not enough, it seems, to make drowning the primary cause of death.’

‘So do you suspect any foul play here? Hypothermia could have happened anywhere. Who’s to say your brother wasn’t dead before his body even hit the water? I assume there’s to be an inquest?’

‘Yeah, but really we don’t suspect anything like that. I reckon Vince fell through the ice and couldn’t get out. He couldn’t swim and, remember, the canal was frozen over; it wouldn’t take much for you to lose your bearings down there and lose sight of the place you’d gone down, particularly if you panicked.’

‘In which case, you would drown,’ Oliver said.

‘I’m not a pathologist, Ollie, I don’t know. Maybe he died on the ice, and ended up in the water when it cracked. A lot of people were fool enough to go walking on it. We’ll have to wait for the result of the inquest to know for sure. In the meantime, we’re hoping you might look after the insurance end of things – and the loan sharks. I’m assuming that since some of these loans weren’t legit Rachel won’t have to shell out for them.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘It sounds like there wouldn’t be anything legally binding, but it might be safer if she just paid them. These are not the kind of people you want to rub up the wrong way, Patrick. Your brother knew that. As for the insurance – I’d need to see the policy before I could give you any advice on it. The inquest will hold things up, but then probate tends to put everything on hold for months anyway. I take it Rachel is the beneficiary of this policy?’

Patrick shrugged. ‘I presume so. I don’t know the details.’

‘And what’s the value, roughly speaking?’

‘Again, I have no idea. Vince and I never discussed it. I didn’t even know there was a policy until Rachel mentioned it.’

‘Okay. Well, firstly, if your sister-in-law has the money, I’d pay off that bookie. Everything else can be paid from your brother’s estate, provided he had one.’ Oliver paused. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, why aren’t you looking after the legal end yourself?’

Patrick smiled. ‘Ah now … don’t tell me you didn’t hear about that, Ollie. God knows, lawyers love to talk.’

‘I heard something all right. But, like you say, people talk; you can never be too sure what to believe.’

Patrick spread his hands. ‘Well, I wish I could say it wasn’t true, but I got myself debarred shortly after I’d set up a practice. It’s not something I’m proud of. I made a stupid mistake – got caught up in something I shouldn’t have. But look, sure I’d have made a lousy lawyer anyway. Best to leave all that to pros like you. So I’ll bring you that policy to have a look over. Make sure the insurance crowd can’t find anything amiss. Rachel will be relieved to have a solicitor involved. It’s her I’m doing it for. Things are hard enough for her without having to deal with Vince’s financial mess.’

Oliver nodded and picked up his briefcase. ‘I’m happy to help.’

He showed Patrick Arnold out of the office and down the narrow stairs. Arnold thanked him and said he’d be in touch to go over the policy.

‘We must have a pint while I’m home, Ollie,’ he said.

‘Sure,’ Oliver told him. ‘Give me a shout.’

He locked the outer door and watched as Patrick Arnold hailed a cab. There was something about the whole thing that didn’t sit right.

The lights were on when Joanna returned home. She expected to find her mother in front of the television, but she wasn’t. When she climbed the stairs, she saw that her mother’s bedroom door was ajar and the light was on. She was talking in a low voice. Joanna peered through the opening from the landing, curious.

Angela was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to the door, talking on her mobile. ‘It’s not how … obviously, I didn’t expect that … no. But … she’s angry, what would you expect? Me?’ She laughed. ‘… well, you weren’t exactly … no, I know that. Okay, it’ll be around three. I’ll text you when I’m leaving. Don’t worry, I won’t, I have them here. Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye … bye.’

Her mother ended the call, stood up and went to the window.

‘Who was that?’ Joanna asked.

Angela spun round, hand to her chest. ‘Joanna, Jesus, you put the heart crossways in me. I didn’t hear you come in.’

Joanna went in and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘So who was on the phone?’

Her mother waved her hand distractedly. She’d left her mobile on the bedside table. ‘Oh, it was just Pauline,’ she said.