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Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
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  32. 27
  33. 28
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  38. 33
  39. 34
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  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The policewoman studied the photographs lining the hall: Sissinghurst; Alnwick; Kew. In one of them, a man was wearing a cap and leaning against a spade. In another, a young boy was holding up a giant pumpkin. In the picture on the wall next to him, an older woman wore sunglasses, arms folded across her chest, sunlight catching the face of her watch. Horse brasses gleamed. A vase of flowers sat on a telephone table. The grumble of television from the living room.

“Are you any closer to finding whoever is doing this?”

The male officer shook his head and leaned toward her in a conspiratorial way. “It’s a nightmare, to be honest. It’s one of the most complex and puzzling cases I’ve ever worked on.” He raised an eyebrow. “Between you and me, I think our boss is a bit out of his depth.”

The woman turned around sharply, skewering her colleague with a look.

“But we will find him, don’t you worry about that,” she said.

Standing on the doorstep, saying their good-byes, the young lady officer—hardly older than thirty, but so tired-looking—pressed a business card into Audrina’s hand.

“Please contact me if you see or remember anything at all.”

“Of course. We’ll have a think.”

As soon as they had left, their voices drifting back to her in the summer night, Audrina examined the card. Her gaze was drawn not to the telephone number, but the name printed in black ink.

Detective Sergeant Wildeve Stanton.

Stanton.

Stanton.

Her back against the inside of the now-closed front door, Audrina folded neatly onto the doormat, its bristles scratching the back of her thighs where her skirt had risen up.

She hadn’t heard that name for thirty-three years until yesterday.

And now twice in two days.

The sound of boyish laughter filled her ears, and she began to weep.

33

33

Now

The snapping teeth of the crocodile made the boy jump and he laughed until he held his stomach. The ballerina tumbled over her feet, making them gasp and point. It was exactly as I had hoped it would be, given I was not a professional puppeteer. But I had practiced at home until my fingers were sore and the puppets did my bidding.

Do you remember the faces of those children? Shining lights. The shop was filled with laughter, with chatter and joy. My mood had begun to lift again. Perhaps the parents would reward our efforts by buying an expensive toy for each child when they came to collect them. Two or three of them, I thought optimistically. There were always birthday presents to lavish on other people’s children. And word of mouth was a powerful engine.

But, for now, it was time for the grand finale.