BooksBarbecue
Back The Dead Line
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. By the Same Author
  3. Dedication Page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Also Available by Holly Watt
  87. The Hunt and the Kill

‘He had to do it,’ she said haltingly. ‘Once he had done it once for me, they made him do it again.’

‘Maybe,’ said Casey. ‘We don’t know that.’

‘Oh God,’ said Vivienne. ‘Oh my God.’ The tears spilled down her face. ‘I made him,’ she said. ‘He never wanted to do it. He hated it so much. And I forced him.’

She stared around the room again. ‘And now he’s dead,’ she whispered. ‘He’s gone for ever. And I never once said sorry.’

14

14

They left her for a few minutes. Walked around the garden, teacups in hand. The willow was just coming into leaf, drooping gently over a pond. The clouds were low, a shaft of cold sunlight here and there. A little stream chattered past, on its way to join the river.

‘Nice place,’ Casey said, ‘for a child to grow up.’

‘Indeed.’ Miranda was distracted. ‘Did you see Jessie Miller’s article this morning? About that Labour MP.’

Jessica Miller had taken over Miranda’s old job back at the Argus. The rivalry was superficially friendly.

‘I didn’t think you’d like that,’ Casey grinned.

When they got back to the house, Vivienne had washed her face. She stood there, pink-cheeked, dry-eyed, the laundry basket at her feet.

‘I’ve told you everything I know,’ she said, as they came into the kitchen. ‘And I’m asking you, please, don’t do anything to my family. Robin would be terribly upset, to know you had even come here.’

The sun flooded through the leaded windows, the shadows a cage on the wall.

‘You don’t know where she lived, this woman in Bangladesh?’ asked Miranda.

‘They never said anything about her at all.’ Vivienne looked exhausted. ‘I know I should have asked. But you just don’t.’

‘Not when you don’t want to know,’ said Miranda.

One of the canaries chirped loudly.

‘I know,’ said Vivienne. ‘And I know what you must both think of me. If it’s my fault that my father . . . If I can think of anything else, I will call you. I promise. But you want to get the person behind all this, don’t you? You want to stop it happening again. So do that. Don’t come for me. Don’t come for my son, please, for God’s sake. He’s only three. He doesn’t deserve any of this.’

There was ice in Vivienne’s eyes as she spoke, her back straight. The diplomat’s daughter, Casey saw.

‘You definitely never knew anything at all about the mother?’ asked Miranda.

‘I’m Theo’s mother.’ The words were sharp. ‘And, no, I never asked.’

‘Is there any way that there might be more information at the house on Paxos?’ Casey asked.