Dead in the Dark

31 Six days ago

Frances Swann stared at Reece Bower as if he were a complete stranger. His face looked drawn and haggard, but there was a strange light in his eyes, as if he was getting a thrill from the story he was telling her.

‘I can’t believe my ears,’ she said. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’

‘No joke,’ he said. ‘It’s all true, Frances.’

‘So Lacey was right. You’ve lived a lie all these years. You’ve made us all live a lie.’

Frances turn to look at Naomi. She was sitting back in an armchair as if it was a perfectly normal day, an afternoon with the family. Yet when Frances looked closer, she could see Naomi’s body was rigid. Her knuckles were pale, the tendons stood out on her neck, and a red flush was rising to her cheeks.

Reece made a dismissive gesture, as if it was all a fuss over nothing.

‘Don’t make a big drama out of it,’ he said. ‘So Lacey has let the cat out of the bag. But we’ve all got to carry on as normal.’

‘Why? For you?’

‘Yes, Frances.’

‘And what about Annette?’

Naomi spoke for the first time. Her voice was distant.

‘Reece, tell us exactly what happened.’

‘Okay, okay. Well, it was a quiet day. It was a Thursday, late in October. The schools were back and the holiday season was over. I remember it had been raining in the morning, but Annette fancied she could tell from the sky that it would clear up. She liked to think she could read the clouds. So we got in the car and set off to Lathkill Dale for a walk. Because it was so quiet we managed to get right down to one of the parking places just above the mill. That was lucky. Otherwise, it’s murder coming back up that steep hill to the car park.’

He paused, licked his lips, as if reflecting on what he’d just said.

‘And she was right,’ he continued. ‘It had cleared up by the time we got out of the car. Annette was always right.’

‘Was no one else around in Lathkill Dale?’

Bower shook his head. ‘The rain had kept everyone else away.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well, we walked some way up the dale, then Annette wanted to divert off the path to look at the old mine workings. But there must have been an unmarked shaft... She fell, just disappeared from view. I don’t know how far, but it was a long way down. I could hear her screams as her body bounced off the stone. And then there was a thud, far away. She was quiet after that. Very quiet. So quiet that I didn’t have any doubts... Yes, I called out to her, but there was nothing. I knew then.’

‘Knew what?’

‘That she was dead, of course. Dead, and completely out of sight where no one would find her. I couldn’t believe my luck.’

‘Your luck?’ shouted Frances.

The blood was roaring in her ears now. Reece’s face seemed to swim in and out of her vision, as if she was drunk. But she was stone cold sober. It was fury bubbling up inside her that made her feel intoxicated with rage.

Reece held up his hands placatingly.

‘It was the best way out. You’ve got to understand that. Our marriage was over. We were doing nothing but arguing, and she was getting violent. Annette had been on and on at me all the way to Lathkill Dale in the car, and all the way up the trail too. Do you know, we passed a walker coming the other way, and she smiled at him and said “hello”. Then, as soon as he was out of earshot, she started in on me again. It was intolerable. I couldn’t have stood any more, Frances. She was out of control. If it hadn’t been for this accident... well, it would have ended badly.’

‘Accident?’ hissed Frances. ‘You call that an accident?’

‘That’s what it was. I didn’t know the shaft was there. It should have been sealed up. It wasn’t my fault.’

‘She could have been saved,’ said Frances. ‘All you had to do was make a call.’

Reece shook his head. ‘There was no signal.’

‘What a pathetic excuse. You deliberately left her there to die.’

Now he’d begun to plead. ‘Frances, I might have made a wrong decision in the heat of the moment. It was an accident, really it was. But it seemed so... so neat, somehow. It was a solution to all our problems. Imagine if she’d been badly injured? She fell a long way. She might have been paralysed, brain damaged, left a cabbage in a wheelchair. It was much better that she was dead than that. So I had to leave her there.’

Frances stared at him, wondering if he actually believed what he was saying. He was so self-centred that he probably did. It was all about his own convenience. Even the death of his wife had been a stroke of good luck to avoid a messy divorce, or worse.

‘And afterwards?’

‘I knew you were coming that afternoon, Frances. So I made up the story about her going for a run. I took Taffy out myself and left him on the trail. I knew he would find his way back home. But then things began to go wrong...’

Frances sensed Lacey come up quietly to stand next to her. Lacey’s breathing was very shallow. She had that faint wheeze in her air passages that she suffered when she was stressed.

‘Oh, the murder charge must have been very inconvenient,’ said Frances.

‘I was terrified,’ said Reece, trying to make himself look small, like a helpless boy.

Frances sneered. That sort of thing didn’t work with her.

‘But then Evan had that sighting of Annette in Buxton,’ he said.

‘I always thought you seized on Dad’s story a bit too eagerly.’

‘Wouldn’t you? It was my only chance. I didn’t think it would have reached that stage. Not a murder charge, without a body.’

And then Reece smiled.

That was the final straw.

Naomi leaped up from her chair and ran at him, screaming. She raked her fingernails across his cheek and he lashed out with his fist, knocking her backwards. Frances ran forward to grab him, and Lacey was right there with her, pummelling at her father. In a second, Naomi jumped up again, blood spraying from a cut lip. Frances heard screaming that seemed to go on and on, but she could see nothing in the red haze that seemed to fill the room.

It felt like a long time before the haze cleared. Naomi had collapsed and was hanging her head towards the carpet. Lacey was kneeling over her father, who lay prone and still in a shaft of sunlight from the French windows.

When Lacey stood up, Frances saw a red stain spreading rapidly on his white shirt. And something else. A wooden handle protruding from his side, just below the ribs.

‘Is he...?’

And Lacey said: ‘Yes, Auntie. He’s dead.’