Pop Goes the Weasel

30

She didn’t waste any time. Sticking to the back routes, Helen sped across town. She was being overcautious, but it was perfectly possible that one of the startled workers in the Zenith building would alert the press, and Helen was determined not to be followed. She was heading to the Reid household – to destroy happiness and inflict pain – and she wanted to be absolutely sure she was alone.

Jessica Reid’s face changed colour so quickly when she saw Helen’s warrant card that Helen thought she was going to faint. Alison Vaughn, an experienced Family Liaison officer whom Helen had asked to attend, was quick off the mark. A comforting hand on the elbow, then she shepherded the terrified Jessica inside. Helen followed, shutting the front door gently behind her.

Jessica’s eighteen-month-old sat in the middle of the front room, grunting benignly at her unexpected visitors. Sally was full of beans, eager to play, and without needing to be told Alison picked her up and took her off to investigate her activity centre.

‘Is he dead?’

Jessica’s question was brutally blunt. Her body was shaking, her eyes just about containing her tears. Helen’s eyes flashed across the family photos on the mantelpiece – there was no doubt that Jessica’s husband was their latest victim.

‘This morning we found the body of a man. We believe it is Chris, yes.’

Jessica let her head fall. She started to sob. She was trying to suck them in, to hide her distress from her daughter, but the shock was too great.

‘Jessica, the next few days are going to be bewildering, devastating, scary, but I want you to know that we will be supporting you every step of the way. Alison will be here to help with Sally, to provide any assistance you might need and to answer your questions. If you have family who can help, we should call them now. You may even want to think about staying elsewhere for a few days. I can’t discount the possibility that the press will try to contact you here.’

Jessica looked up, bemused.

‘Why would they do that?’

‘We believe Chris was murdered. I know that’s hard to take in… that this all seems like a horrible nightmare, but I can’t hide the facts from you. It’s important that I tell you as much as we know, so you can help us find who did this.’

‘How? … Where?’

‘He was found on Eling Great Marsh. He drove out there in the early hours of this morning.’

‘Why? Why was he there? We never go there… we’ve never been there.’

‘We believe he drove there with a companion. A woman.’

‘Who?’ Anger had crept into Jessica’s voice now.

‘We don’t know her identity. But we believe she might be a sex worker.’

Jessica closed her eyes in horror. Helen watched her with profound sympathy as another foundation wall of her life collapsed. Helen had had her life smashed to bits more than once and she knew the awful pain that Jessica was experiencing. Nevertheless she had to give her the truth – all of it – without sparing her anything.

‘Eling Great Marsh is sometimes used by prostitutes as a discreet place to conduct their business. We think that’s why Chris went there. I really am sorry, Jessica.’

‘The stupid fucking bastard.’

Jessica spat out the words with such violence that it silenced the room. Sally looked up from her play, for the first time sensing that something was wrong.

‘The stupid, cowardly, selfish, fucking… bastard.’

She sobbed unreservedly now, deep and long. Helen let her cry. Finally her sobs started to subside.

‘To your knowledge had Chris ever used prostitutes before?

‘No! Do you think I’d put up with that? What do you think I am – a fucking doormat?’

Jessica’s eyes were burning fiercely.

‘Of course not. I know you wouldn’t sanction something like that, but sometimes wives have suspicions, fears, things they’ve locked away deep. Did you ever have any worries about Chris? Anything that upset you?’

Jessica dropped her gaze now, unable to look at Helen. She had struck a nerve, Helen was sure of that, and she had no choice but to pursue it.

‘Jessica, if you’ve anything to tell -’

‘I didn’t think it would…’

Jessica was struggling to find sufficient breath to speak, the shock now taking full effect. Helen gestured to Alison for a glass of water.

‘He’d… he had… He’d promised me.’

‘Promised you what, Jessica?’

‘Since Sally was born, we haven’t… you know… very much.’

Helen said nothing. She knew something was coming now and that it was best to let Jessica find her own words.

‘We’re always so tired,’ she continued, ‘there are always so many things that need doing.’

She took a big lungful of air before continuing:

‘A few months ago, I used Chris’s laptop because mine was broken.’

Another deep breath.

‘I opened up Internet Explorer to use Ocado and… I found all these sites bookmarked. The stupid bastard hadn’t even tried to hide them.’

‘Pornography?’ Helen asked. Jessica nodded.

‘I opened one up. I wanted to know. It was… disgusting. A young girl – seventeen at the most – and lots of guys… they were bloody queuing up to…’

‘Did you challenge him about it?’

‘Yes. I rang him at work. He came straight home.’

Her tone softened a little as she continued:

‘He was mortified. Ashamed. He hated himself for hurting me. I hated him for looking at that… stuff, but he vowed he’d never watch it again. And he meant it. He really meant it.’

She looked up imploringly, silently begging Helen not to damn her husband.

‘I’m sure he did. I’m sure he was a good husband, a good father…’

‘He is. He was. He loved Sally, he loved me…’

At this point Jessica collapsed, the weight of events finally bearing down on her. She had been robbed of her husband and her memory of him would be forever tarnished. His reckless actions had cost him dear, but those left behind had the bitterest legacy. They were staring down a long dark tunnel.

Suddenly Helen was filled with anger. Whoever was responsible knew what they were doing. They were intent on visiting as much pain on these innocent families as they could. They wanted to take them beyond the limits of human endurance, to destroy them. But Helen wouldn’t let them. She would see them destroyed before she let that happen.

Leaving Alison to rally family support, Helen departed. The messenger is never welcome in a house of death and, besides, she had work to do.