The silent house arc, p.18

The Silent House (ARC), page 18

 

The Silent House (ARC)
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  might have been hiding, it was important to remember

  she’d been the one to find Lexi’s body.

  How does Alan feel about that?

  Elisha threw another glance over at him. He’s not happy,

  but he says we can stay there a bit longer. I don’t want

  Kasey sleeping in that room again. What if she has night-

  mares about it?

  I nodded sympathetically. Do you think Kasey and

  Jaxon might have seen what happened? I know the police

  interviewed Jaxon.

  The look she flashed me took me by surprise, it was

  so filled with hate. Don’t talk to me about that boy. I

  don’t want him in my house again.

  Why? Did he tell you something about that night? Did

  he see who killed Lexi?

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  She let out a snort. That’s all you’re interested in, isn’t it? You pretend to be friendly, but you just want something to tell the police. Well I’m not talking to you. You know nothing about my family, nothing.

  Please, Elisha, that’s not why I asked. I went to touch her arm, but thought better of making physical contact

  this time. I wanted to make sure you were okay.

  Piss off, she signed, standing up and turning her back on me.

  Several tense minutes later, we were both taken through

  to an interview room. Singh gave me a sheepish smile,

  and I wondered if Forest had given him a talking to about

  taking me back to the crime scene.

  Forest sat down and had begun the questions before

  Singh had finished taking a seat.

  ‘What can you tell us about Rick Lombard?’

  Why? Elisha asked, but her eyes gave away that she

  was keeping something secret.

  ‘He was at your house last Friday night, the same night

  Lexi died.’

  She wrinkled her nose. I don’t know what you’re talking

  about. I didn’t see Rick that night.

  ‘Really? So he didn’t come round at any point that

  night?’

  She shook her head and I thought she was starting to

  look a little frightened, but I didn’t know why.

  ‘We know Rick was there when Alan came home. They

  had a fight. But we have another witness who told us he

  was there for several hours that evening, when you were

  alone in the house with the children. Rick himself told us

  he was there. So think about your answer again.’

  Her eyes danced around the room before she replied.

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  Alan doesn’t know, about me and Rick. He didn’t know, before that night, I mean. I used to go out with Rick,

  before I met Alan. Just before. We . . . kept in touch.

  ‘You broke up with Rick to go out with Alan?’

  She shook her head. It wasn’t serious, not like that.

  But Rick got scary when I was pregnant with Kasey, kept

  saying he was going to tell Alan about us, get a DNA

  test.

  Forest tensed her jaw. ‘Why didn’t you tell us this

  before?’

  It has nothing to do with Lexi. Rick didn’t hurt her.

  ‘Rick thought Kasey was his daughter. Maybe he went

  upstairs to try to see her?’

  Elisha pulled a face. No, he didn’t go upstairs. He

  knows Kasey isn’t his daughter, she looks like Alan. And

  she looks like Lexi, and they wouldn’t look alike unless

  they were sisters.

  For a moment, Forest stared at her with her arms folded.

  Elisha shuffled in her seat and then looked at me as if for

  reassurance. I waited for the detectives to continue with

  their questions.

  ‘You know we found the phone you’ve been using to

  contact him. We know your relationship is more than just

  “keeping in touch”.’ Forest still had her arms crossed,

  and she watched Elisha to see her reaction.

  Elisha hung her head. I don’t know why. I don’t want

  to ruin what I’ve got with Alan. Rick always talks me

  into things.

  ‘Rick Lombard has a history of violence, and you used

  to be in a relationship with him. You’ve just admitted that

  he’s coercive, and you were scared of him when you were

  pregnant. Why are you so convinced he didn’t kill Lexi?’

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  I know him. He’s not always a good person, but he wouldn’t hurt a child.

  Forest raised an eyebrow and looked at Singh. Clearly,

  Elisha didn’t know the full extent of Lombard’s history.

  Anyway, he didn’t go upstairs. Then Alan came in,

  drunk and ranting. He and Rick got into it, but then Rick left. I watched him leave. He definitely didn’t come inside again.

  My head was reeling with the different accounts from

  different witnesses, or suspects, in this case. I was glad I

  wasn’t in Forest’s position, trying to make sense of what

  actually happened that night.

  ‘Tell us about the fight Alan had with your brother the

  week before.’

  This caught my attention. I wondered how much infor-

  mation had been filtering into the police without my

  knowledge.

  Elisha’s face turned red and she licked her lips several

  times, the question making her instantly nervous.

  What fight?

  ‘We’ve been told that it wasn’t the first time Alan’s had

  a fight outside your house. The weekend before there was

  another incident. We know you went to sort it out, and

  we have it on good authority that the man was your brother.’

  Elisha’s eyes searched the room again, as if looking for

  a way out.

  I don’t know.

  ‘You don’t know if it was your brother? The same way

  you didn’t know who Rick Lombard was, even though

  you had a relationship with him?’

  No, no, I knew it was him. I mean, I went outside to

  see, I went after Alan. But I didn’t see them fighting.

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  ‘Why not? It can’t have been that dark. Your road has plenty of street lights.’ Forest was getting sarcastic, and I wondered if she’d had enough of Elisha’s stories.

  No, it wasn’t. I mean, they weren’t fighting when I

  went outside. Then he left.

  ‘That’s strange,’ Forest said, shaking her head. ‘The

  witness who told us about this seems to think you were

  the one to sort it out, that you stopped the fight.’

  That’s not what happened. That’s not what happened.

  Elisha repeated herself frantically. That’s not what

  happened.

  ‘What did happen then? Why don’t you want us to

  know about the fight Alan had with your brother? We’re

  concerned about this pattern that’s developing, of Alan

  fighting with people in the street. Maybe one of them

  took things further.

  ‘We’d like to talk to your brother, but we haven’t been

  able to track him down yet. Have you told him to lie low

  and not get in touch with us?’ Forest continued.

  Elisha was taken aback by this, and shook her head,

  but she didn’t sign anything.

  Singh sat forward in his seat. ‘Elisha, you have to

  understand that we are looking for someone who is very

  dangerous. This person has murdered a child. They might

  well hurt someone else. They might hurt Kasey. This is

  serious. You have to tell us the truth, and tell us everything you know. If you’re hiding something, protecting someone,

  you could get into trouble.’

  As I was interpreting, Elisha sat and shook her head

  over and over, her shoulders hunched, hands pressed

  between her knees. I could see she was scared and confused,

  but Singh’s words kept coming.

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  ‘This person you’re protecting, they might have killed Lexi. Do you understand that? You might be protecting

  someone who murdered a little girl. I don’t know if it’s

  Alan, or Rick, or your brother, but you need to tell us

  the truth. Tell us whatever you’re keeping secret.’

  ‘No!’

  I was surprised by Elisha’s shout. She turned back to

  me and continued in sign. You don’t understand. He

  wouldn’t hurt anyone. It has nothing to do with him.

  ‘Who? Lombard? Or your brother?’ Forest asked, her

  face livid.

  The effect of Singh’s speech wore off as quickly as it

  came, and Elisha sat back in her chair. I’ve told you

  everything. I don’t know why you think I’m keeping

  secrets. I’ve told you all I know.

  The conversation went round in circles for another five

  minutes before the detectives looked at each other, defeat

  on both their faces. They had no reason to keep Elisha

  there, and she didn’t hesitate once they told her she could

  go. As the door closed behind her, Forest slammed a file

  down on the table in frustration.

  That evening I arrived at Gemma’s around six o’clock,

  and as soon as she saw the look on my face she led me

  through to the kitchen and pointed at a chair.

  Sit. You look exhausted.

  I nodded. Working hard at the moment.

  She shot me a sympathetic look. I know you can’t talk

  about it, but if you need to offload at any point, you

  know where I am.

  I thanked her and leaned back in the chair. The smells

  wafting from Gemma’s oven were intoxicating; a few of

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  us tried to meet up once every month or so, and we varied what we did, but my favourite nights were the ones when

  Gem cooked for us.

  Who’s coming tonight?

  Jodie and Lucy. Cara has a date. She waggled her

  eyebrows at me.

  Good for her, I replied, not rising to the bait.

  She’s trying a different website, Gem began, but I was saved from her well-meaning interference by Petra barrel-ling through the door, her blonde pigtails flying.

  ‘Auntie Paige!’ she shrieked, flinging herself into my

  arms. ‘My teacher’s having a baby and I want to make

  her a card, and Mummy said you’d help me because you’re

  good at art.’

  I laughed and let her lead me by the hand up to her

  bedroom, where bits of coloured paper were strewn all

  over her floor.

  ‘I don’t know what colour to use,’ she said, a serious

  frown creasing her six-year-old face. ‘I don’t know if it’s

  a baby boy or a baby girl, she said it’s a secret.’

  ‘Why don’t you use yellow?’ I suggested. We sat on the

  floor and sorted through the pile of papers, and she showed

  me a box where she’d kept pieces of ribbon and buttons.

  As we worked, Petra chattered away about school and

  her friends, telling me she was going to a party the

  following weekend at the local farm park.

  ‘Is it for one of your friends from school or from the

  Deaf club?’

  She pulled a face. ‘I don’t like going to Deaf club.’

  ‘Why not?’

  For a moment, she concentrated on cutting out the

  flower I’d drawn for her, a tiny wrinkle forming between

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  her eyes. Without looking up, she said, ‘Jaxon always wants to play with me.’

  I paused and waited for her to continue, but she didn’t

  say any more.

  ‘Don’t you like playing with Jaxon?’

  ‘He hurts me sometimes. He likes to play games where

  he hits me and I don’t like it.’

  This new revelation of Jaxon’s violent behaviour

  shocked me, despite what I’d already seen. I tried to hide

  my sharp intake of breath from Petra, but she noticed.

  She glanced up at me, a look of concern on her face. ‘And

  he uses bad signs.’

  ‘Bad signs?’

  ‘He signed something to me but I didn’t know what he

  meant, so I asked Mummy and she told me it was a bad

  sign, for a rude word, and I’m not allowed to use it.’ The

  words tumbled out of her mouth as she looked at me

  anxiously, and I instinctively gave her a squeeze.

  ‘You weren’t in trouble though, you didn’t know it was

  a bad sign.’

  She shook her head. ‘Mummy was upset that Jaxon

  signed it to me. She told me to play with someone else,

  and I tried but Jaxon always wants to play with me and

  if I tell him to go away he hits me.’

  I sat with Petra while she finished her card, steering the

  conversation round to more lighthearted topics, which led

  to her adding a picture of the school guinea pigs to her

  card. When she was satisfied with it, I left her playing and

  went downstairs to sit with Gemma before the others arrived.

  Oh god, did she tell you about that? Gem said, shaking her head when I repeated the conversation I’d had with

  her daughter. I know people swear all the time, and she

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  was bound to learn some unsavoury words and signs soon enough, but I was hoping I could maintain her innocence

  for another couple of years.

  What word was it? I asked out of curiosity.

  Bitch, she told me. I expect he’d seen an adult use it and thought it was funny to copy, but I was a bit taken

  aback when Petra came up and signed it to me.

  Poor kid, she knows it wasn’t her fault but she still

  feels bad.

  Gem nodded. That’s why I’ve not taken her for a couple

  of weeks. I want her to mix with the Deaf community,

  it’s part of her heritage, but not if it’s going to upset her.

  A light above the door flashed as the doorbell rang,

  and I jumped up to answer it. Jodie and Lucy had arrived

  at the same time and we all piled into the kitchen.

  Just in time, Gem said, as she lifted the lid off the tagine she’d been making. I’ll get Petra in bed, then we can put the world to rights.

  As we ate, the four of us chatted and signed, sharing

  gossip and catching up. To outsiders, we might seem like

  a disparate bunch of friends, but we’d formed our little

  group over the course of about ten years. Jodie worked

  with Gem, and had spurred their colleagues on to study

  some BSL when Gem was first employed. This kindness

  had led to mutual respect and eventually a close friendship,

  with Jodie and I working together to support Gem through

  the year where she lost her husband and gave birth to

  Petra. Cara, the only one missing from our usual gathering,

  was my friend from school. I’d taught her to sign so we

  could communicate across the classroom, and when she’d

  finished uni we struck up our friendship again.

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  Lucy was another deaf parent, who had twin boys a couple of years younger than Petra, and she and Gem had

  made friends at the Deaf club. I didn’t know Lucy that

  well, but she’d fitted seamlessly into our group when she’d

  moved to the area six months earlier.

  Once we’d eaten, we moved through to the living room

  and the conversation turned to Cara and the reason for

  her absence.

  This is her fourth date in six weeks, so she’s certainly

  working her way through them, Jodie signed.

  Paige, why don’t you try it? Gem asked, a twinkle in her eye. I shot her a dirty look.

  No, thanks. Cara might be having plenty of dates, but

  she’s yet to find a decent bloke she wants to see more

  than once.

  Come on, you might be surprised, Jodie replied, pulling her phone out. There are free apps, you don’t have to pay anything. We could set up a profile for you right now!

  ‘No!’ I said, sharper than I’d intended, earning myself

  a few raised eyebrows. Sorry, I continued in sign, but I’m just not interested.

  I had only had one serious relationship in my adult life.

  I’d met Mike when I was twenty-two, and was with him

  for just over five years. In that time he stripped my self-

  esteem away little by little, just as relentlessly as he spent my money, and by the time Anna and my friends helped

  me get him out of my life I didn’t even recognise who I’d

  become. In the three years since, I’d done a lot to repair

  the damage, but I didn’t know when I would feel ready

  to trust anyone enough to be in a relationship again.

  My friends could feel the change in atmosphere, and

  Gem steered the conversation away from my lack of a

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