Chapter 116

‘You're a good liar, Eve,' Poe said. ‘One of the best I've ever met.'

Poe hadn't meant it as a compliment, but she took it as one all the same.

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘When you're in a relationship with your brother, your whole life is a lie. It's the tent we live under. Lying becomes second nature.'

They were alone in the basement again. Eve had asked Thomas to make sure there was nothing incriminating in Poe's car. He suspected it was so he and Eve could talk, although it could just as easily have been so Thomas didn't have to watch Poe die. Eve wore the killer's trousers in their family, not him. She picked up the mallet and this time Poe knew he wouldn't wake up.

‘For what it's worth, this isn't personal,' she said.

Poe didn't think it was worth anything, but he kept quiet. He was about to die. He knew that now. No one was going to rescue him. Nightingale knew where he was, but she wouldn't be expecting his call for an hour. By the time someone thought to check up on him, his body would be cold. In a shallow grave or at the bottom of the Irish Sea with a chain wrapped around his ankles. A less stubborn man might have begged for his life. Made implausible promises about not telling anyone if he were allowed to live. Instead, he said, ‘You've already killed to protect your secret.'

She angled her head and gave him a small smile. ‘You know this how?' she said.

‘Bethany's dead, so it wasn't her who killed your parents. And although Aaron faked his own death the night they died, I don't see him as a stone-cold killer. You on the other hand . . .'

Eve shrugged. ‘We got tired of sneaking around,' she said. ‘I was twenty-one by then; Aaron was twenty. And you know what they put him through when he was fifteen. What they did to Bethany. Our parents were monsters and I was glad to do it. So yes, we arranged for me to attend Bible study at that dreadful place to make sure I had an alibi for that night. Aaron picked me up in our parents' car at three in the morning and drove me home. I opened their throats with Bethany's old clasp knife and we watched them gurgle to death. And I cut Aaron's arm so it looked like he had been killed too. We bundled their bodies into the Range Rover and Aaron drove to St Bees, dropping me back at the Children of Job on the way. I'd been gone for less than an hour. No one had missed me; I had my alibi. Aaron dumped Mum and Dad in the Irish Sea and, while I was finishing off my Bible study group, he made his way to Wales. Started living as Thomas Gruffud. I joined him a suitable time later.'

‘You let Bethany take the blame.'

‘She was dead, Sergeant Poe. There was nothing either of us could do about that. And despite what he was forced to do to her, she loved Aaron. I don't think she'd have minded taking the blame for Mum and Dad's murders. After all, she hated them the most.'

There was a certain twisted logic to this. Poe thought Bethany probably would have enjoyed people thinking she had killed her tormentors.

‘I assume Aaron has one of Cornelius's tattoos?' Poe said.

‘On the sole of his right foot.'

Poe nodded then wished he hadn't. ‘People know I'm here, Eve,' he said. He ignored the biting pain and twisted his wrists as far as he could. Tried to force some give in his bindings. They moved slightly but nowhere near enough to get a hand free. ‘I'm not going to insult your intelligence by telling you I won't immediately arrest you if you let me go, but you're about to move from killer to cop killer. That isn't a badge you wear lightly.'

‘They'll know where you were, Sergeant Poe.'

‘They'll come with dogs and search teams and they'll never ever drop it.'

‘I won't deny that you came to see us, Sergeant Poe. Why would I deny something so easily proved? No, you called, got what you came for and left. That's all Thomas and I know.'

‘You mean that's all you and Aaron know.'

She smiled. ‘It's a lovely name, isn't it? I do so wish I could use it when we are out in public.' She shook the thought away. ‘Anyway, by the time they arrive, you and your car will be long gone. You came here to warn us about the risk Aaron posed. Your colleagues will assume you stumbled into that very risk yourself.'

‘You're going to blame Aaron?' Poe said.

‘Of course.'

It would work too, he thought. They would think Poe had come off worse in an altercation with Aaron. What else could they think? He thought about Bradshaw and what his disappearance would do to her. He wasn't sure she would be able to cope. Doyle too. The pair of them would never stop looking. It would ruin what was left of their lives. Flynn would be more pragmatic, as would Superintendent Nightingale, but it would crush Bradshaw and Doyle.

‘Why didn't you just tell me you don't have any photographs of Aaron?' he said. ‘Why risk all this?'

‘It would have been delaying the inevitable, Sergeant Poe. Sooner or later you, or someone like you, would have started wondering why I didn't have any photographs of him. No, better to nip this in the bud now. A stitch in time and all that.'

‘How will you explain not having photographs of him?' Poe asked. ‘Yes, people will get distracted looking for me, but there's still an ongoing murder investigation and Aaron is the police's number-one suspect. Sooner or later someone is going to ask you for a photograph.'

‘I won't have to explain not having any photographs of Aaron,' she replied. ‘I'll simply say that you took them all with you.'

‘And what if they don't believe you, Eve? What if someone wants to look a bit deeper into my visit here?'

‘Like you said, Sergeant Poe: I'm a good liar. I'll make them believe me.'

‘You have it all worked out, don't you?'

‘There's nothing I won't do to protect the life we have, Sergeant Poe. Nothing.' She picked up the mallet and stood in front of him. ‘Now, unless there's anything else, I think we should do this now. I promise you, I'll make it as humane as possible.'

‘Cornelius Green,' Poe said.

‘What about him?'

‘Why did you kill him?'

Eve frowned.

‘You got away with murdering your parents,' Poe continued. ‘You moved back to Cumbria with your brother. He's now a thirty-one-year-old man and doesn't look anything like the scared twenty-year-old he was on the night you killed your parents. And, just to be careful, you move to the middle of nowhere and he keeps himself to himself. Doesn't even take a job locally. So why kill Cornelius? Why risk all this attention? You must have known we'd end up on your doorstep eventually.'

Eve picked up the mallet. ‘We didn't kill Cornelius Green, Sergeant Poe.'

‘You didn't?' Poe said, puzzled. ‘But you must have. It's the only thing that makes sense.'

‘It wasn't us.'

‘Then who?'

‘I don't know,' she said. ‘And I don't care.'

She raised the mallet. Poe wondered how long it would hurt. He hoped it would be quick.

The doorbell rang.

Eve paused; the mallet poised to strike.

‘Can you get rid of whoever that is, darling?' she called up to Aaron. She lowered the mallet, put her hand in her pocket and pulled out an embroidered handkerchief. She forced it into Poe's mouth. ‘Shush, my sweet,' she said. ‘It'll soon be over.'

Poe heard Aaron answer the door. There was a muffled conversation then the door shut. Poe had hoped it would take longer. For an ever-too-brief moment he'd even hoped it might be Nightingale's family liaison officer.

Eve raised the mallet, waiting for the all-clear from her brother. They both heard his footsteps as he walked down the basement stairs, slow and methodical, like a metronome.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he would give the all-clear and Eve would kill Poe. No ifs, no buts, no more questions. Poe braced himself.

‘Who was it, darling?' Eve asked, her eyes fixed on Poe's.

No answer.

Poe craned his neck and peered over Eve's shoulder. His good eye widened.

‘What?' Eve said.

Poe said nothing, dumbstruck, staring in horror at the person walking down the basement steps. He blinked, and then he blinked again. For a moment he thought it was a symptom of his concussion. What he was seeing wasn't possible. Yet he knew he wasn't hallucinating. This was happening, right in front of him.

Eve noticed she no longer had his full and undivided attention. She turned to see what was more important than her mallet. Her expression collapsed so suddenly it was as if her face muscles had been cut. It went from mild irritation to out-and-out shock so fast it was like she was having a stroke. She gasped. The mallet fell to the floor. She bent at the waist, put her hands to her face and screamed through them. ‘Noooooo!' A pause. Then, ‘This isn't happening!'

Time froze as the figure approached Eve, the stun gun used on Cornelius Green held casually and confidently at their side. Poe watched as it was raised then held against Eve's chest. He counted ten Mississippis. He saw the crackling blue arc of pulsing electricity, smelled the burning flesh. He saw Eve collapse to the floor, convulsing.

The figure stood over her.

‘Hello, sis,' Bethany Bowman said.