Butterfly Grave (Murder Notebooks) (17 page)

They walked on, coming up to the alleyway, deserted now, just the scene-of-crime tape flapping in the wind. He let go of her hand and walked towards the opening between the shops. She followed him. Poppy was straining on the lead to go further. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

‘I’ve decided,’ Joshua said eventually. ‘From now on I’m going to spend every minute trying to find out what happened to Skeggs.’

She nodded.

‘My uncle, the notebooks, all that will be put on hold. I won’t think about any of it until I find out who’s responsible.’

‘I’ll help you.’

‘I knew you would, Rosie,’ he said, his hand squeezing hers.

‘We’ll do it together,’ she said.

He stared at her, his eyes dark. He lifted one of his hands up to her face and touched her skin.

‘I’m not going to rest until I find out who did it.’

‘I know,’ she said, taking his hand and kissing it.

He pulled her to him and hugged her, his arm like a vice around her back.

‘I owe him this,’ he said, stifling a sob.

‘We both do,’ Rose said.

EIGHTEEN

On Boxing Day Rose and Joshua were called to the station to give statements to the police. They were there for most of the morning. They returned to the house and took Poppy for a walk. In the afternoon Joshua slept on the sofa, his feet hanging off the end. Rose put the single duvet from her bed over him and then went into the kitchen and called Anna to tell her what had happened. Her grandmother was shocked and asked if Rose wanted her to come up to Newcastle. Rose gently declined the offer. Her grandmother sounded bewildered at the news and after ending the call Rose wondered what she must have thought about her granddaughter. After coming home from boarding school six months before there seemed to have been a string of violent deaths associated with her. Anna was unsettled by these events; her safe world, her music, her friends, her charity work, her house in Belsize Park, was not so solid now. Rose seemed to
attract
death. It left her feeling responsible in some way, as if her very presence made something bad happen.

Now there were deaths that came from the past. The Butterfly Murder. Judy Greaves, a ten-year-old girl, murdered and left in a room full of mounted butterflies. These things hung in Rose’s thoughts like heavy black clouds.

In the afternoon Joshua went to the hospital. He asked her if she minded if he went alone. They’d missed their visit on Christmas Day. Joshua wanted to talk through what had happened to Skeggsie with his uncle. When the front door shut after him she was mildly relieved. The thought of seeing Stuart Johnson after everything that had happened was making her a little nervous. His confession about the murder of Simon Lister was on her mind and she wondered if she would ever be able to act normally towards him; as if he was just some nice uncle of Joshua’s that she had never met, not this man she’d been thinking about and talking about for days.

When Joshua got back he told her how his uncle was and how shocked he’d been about the news of Skeggsie’s death. She asked a few other questions but Joshua seemed tired and dispirited. The energy with which he had started the day had disappeared. Later in the evening he put the bottle of whisky by his side and poured it into his glass from time to time. Rose watched him with apprehension.

‘Tomorrow we make a start,’ Joshua said, his words slurred.

He went to bed before her. She let Poppy out into the garden and then went up to bed herself. She hesitated as she passed his door. On Christmas Day they’d slept together for hours but the previous night they’d each gone to their own rooms. It was as if it hadn’t happened. She reached out to the handle of his door.

Why not go in?

Why not get in beside him? Hold him close?

She walked on, though, into the box room and her single bed.

She slept soundly and felt fuzzy-headed and dry-mouthed when she woke up the next morning. Joshua, it appeared, had been up for ages. The half bottle of whisky had had little effect on him. He’d showered and changed his clothes and told her that he was getting going. He was busy and looked organised and she felt a little distanced from him as though the closeness of the previous two days was not needed now that they were
getting going.

‘We’ll clear the house up. I have to sort out my uncle’s room for when he comes home?’

‘Did the hospital say when?’

‘A couple of days.

‘And Rosie, I’ve decided, when Stu comes home I’m not going to mention the Butterfly Murder. I’m going to put all the stuff away and it’ll be as if we never found it.’

‘Can you do that?’

‘For the time being. We need to completely focus on Skeggsie. And even after that I still have to get my head around what it all means in relation to Dad and Kathy. But I can’t do that now.
We
can’t do it now. So I don’t want to let Stu know that I know anything.’

She shrugged in agreement.

‘Bob Skeggs is coming round later so we can find out what’s happening in the investigation.’

Joshua worked upstairs and Rose took the downstairs rooms. She started with the kitchen and filled up a number of rubbish bags. She paused and then decided to clean out the cupboards. She took the mugs and plates out, scrubbed the interior, and replaced them in some sort of order. The living room didn’t take long. She got the vacuum cleaner out and moved the furniture and tidied.

Then she went into the garden. There was dog mess to clear up.

Poppy leapt around her, thinking it was a game.

Back inside she paused. She considered taking a rest but immediately felt the weight of everything pushing at her temples. If she stopped she would just start thinking again. She found other things to do. The cupboard under the stairs was a mess. She took the coats out and tidied them on to hangers. She struggled with the vacuum cleaner and pointed the nozzle into the corners of the cupboard and came across a pair of walking boots that were encrusted with mud. She took them to the sink and started to clean off the dirt. It was a mindless job, getting a knife into the treads of the sole and shifting the mud. She wished she had a whole row of boots to clean.

It was robotic work and it filled the time and every half hour that passed took them further away from the events of Christmas Eve. About two she made some toast and took it upstairs to Joshua. He was in his room looking at his laptop. He took the toast and nibbled at the corners. She stood awkwardly, finding it impossible to settle on any conversation. Joshua was looking at her but she knew he was not
seeing
her. His sight was somewhere else, maybe still in that dark alley.

Soon after Bob Skeggs arrived.

Rose held Poppy back as he came in. He looked white-faced and only had on a suit jacket over trousers even though it was bitterly cold. He kept saying, ‘Thank you for what you did for Darren.’ Rose felt full of emotion and was afraid that if she said a single word it would all pour out so she just nodded and patted him on the shoulder. Joshua came down the stairs two at a time. He took him into the living room and when the door closed behind them the hallway seemed warmer, as if he had taken the cold with him.

Rose stood for a moment and heard the murmuring of voices. She was grateful for the sound of conversation. It was so much better than the stark silence of the morning.

She went upstairs. Joshua had been scrupulous in clearing up. She looked in on Stuart’s study and saw that all the drawers were back in place. She sat down at the desk and opened each one and saw piles of files with felt-tip writing on them. Everything, it seemed, had been sorted into newly labelled files. Joshua had tidied up Stuart’s life –
Bills, Salary, Union, Classic Cars, Bank Statements, Debts.

When Bob Skeggs left the house Rose went downstairs. She found Joshua sitting in the living room. On the coffee table were a set of car keys and Skeggsie’s laptop.

‘How’s his dad?’ she said.

He shrugged.

‘Bob wants me to use the Mini. And look after the flat. For the time being.’

Joshua reached over and picked up Skeggsie’s keys. He clutched them tightly as though someone might want to take them from him. She saw the veins on the back of his hands stand out, the muscles in his forearm tense. He stood up, putting the keys in his pocket.

‘How come he’s brought the laptop?’

‘He wants me to contact Skeggsie’s tutors and friends. Fill them in on what happened. I can’t really face doing it now. How many of them are going to want to have an email about this over Christmas?’

‘And the case? Have the police made any progress?’

What she meant was,
Have they found the killer?

‘They’ve done a lot of door-to-door stuff and they’ve interviewed people in the pub, particularly those who were in the smoking area. Rory Spenser and Martin have been asked to go in for a formal interview this afternoon.’

‘They’ve done a lot.’

‘The son of an ex-Detective Inspector. They’ll do anything to find the killer when it is one of their own.’

These words chimed with Rose. Skeggsie had said the very same thing to her a couple of months before when she first knew him. The status of a murder victim was important. The son of a policeman was high; a boy or girl from a single parent family on a council estate was not so important. No one would ever admit to this but it was true.

‘There’s nothing we can do until all these statements are in. We should go out and get some food. There’s nothing left in the kitchen.’

Joshua drove the Mini. He headed for a shopping centre and parked. When he got out he seemed lost, not sure where to go.

‘There’s a Co-op,’ Rose said. ‘We can get some food there.’

He took a step but then stopped.

‘I don’t think I can . . .’

He looked a bit nauseous.

‘I might see someone that I know and I’m not up to talking to anyone.’

‘You stay in the car. I’ll get the stuff.’

She left him there and walked into the brightly lit mall. Once inside she bought the groceries she thought they needed. When she got to the till she saw that she hadn’t bought any fruit or vegetables just cheese and bread, bacon and chicken, pizza and eggs. She frowned. It was too late to go back. Food was the last thing on their minds anyway. On her way out she passed the newspaper stand. She was startled by the headlines:
Police Inspector’s Son Slain; Christmas Stabbing; Youth Crime – Another Stabbing; Son of Policeman Killed.

The murder had made the national press. It surprised her. Other killings that she’d been involved in had barely made the local paper. She suddenly thought of Eddie, in London. Skeggsie’s new friend. Did he already know about Skeggsie’s death?

She walked back into the mall and paused momentarily to transfer her bags from one hand to the other. Her attention was taken by a couple who had come out of Mothercare. The woman was linking the man’s arm and he was holding a couple of Mothercare bags. He was talking and smiling and the woman was nodding, her ponytail going up and down. She watched them walk off. They were familiar but she couldn’t place them.

Then in a flash she knew who they were. It was Greg Tyler and his wife, Susie. Stuart’s old girlfriend and her husband. She walked after them towards the car park. They were in front of her. Greg had his arm around his wife’s shoulders. From the back they looked like a couple of young lovers. It wasn’t how Susie had described her relationship with her husband when she came to see Joshua on Friday night.

She peeled away from them towards the area where the Mini was parked.

‘Martin’s just sent me a text,’ Joshua said when she reached the car. ‘He wants me to go and see him. He says he’s got some information.’

Rose put the food in the back and then got into the car.

‘You all right?’ he said.

She nodded. As they drove off she saw Susie and Greg Tyler walking out of the car park and away from the shopping mall. There was a bounce in Greg’s step, the Mothercare bags swinging from his hand. Rose thought back to the night when Susie came round to see Joshua. Hadn’t she said then that she and Greg couldn’t have any children of their own? Hadn’t that been one of the reasons that they had drifted apart?

Rose shrugged. Maybe Susie was buying a gift for a friend.

‘What you thinking about?’ Joshua said. ‘Skeggsie?’

Rose nodded. It was easier than trying to explain.

NINETEEN

Ten minutes later they were at Martin’s door.

‘How you doing?’ he said to Joshua.

Joshua grunted.

They followed him into a warm kitchen.

‘Mum and Dad are out. You want a hot drink?’

Joshua shook his head. So did Rose.

‘Sit down at least.’

Joshua pulled out a chair and sat on the edge of it, his knees sticking out at an awkward angle so that Rose had to step across his feet in order to sit down. Martin stayed standing with his back to the fridge. Rose noticed there were word magnets stuck to the door. Hundreds of words, some in lines, some in random groups. She had to pull her eyes away to stop herself reading them.