“The two men he owed money to tied him up and threatened him and he had a heart attack while they weren’t there. When they came back, they moved his body and tried to fake a fall.”
Dee closed her eyes and didn’t speak for a long time.
“I know I shouldn’t say it but I’m glad he’s dead. He can’t hurt anyone else now.”
“What would you have said to Charlie if you’d had the chance?”
“That his greed and lies had cost lives. Not everyone died right away but people were destroyed by him. My brother was destroyed.”
Elise hesitated before she spoke. “I don’t know if you have been contacted yet, Dee, but it appears the vodka your brother was drinking was contaminated with antifreeze.”
Dee closed her eyes. “Who would have done that?” she whispered.
“We don’t know but we think Phil tried to go and talk to Charlie’s daughter. To apologize for his part in the burglary. Charlie may have found out. The Met police are investigating.”
“People will know, then, won’t they?” Dee said slowly. “What a monster he was. I’m glad.”
She was getting a glass of water when she turned.
“Will you tell people who I am?”
Elise shook her head. What’s the point? The little girl who cowered in terror deserves peace—and to know it’s all over now.
* * *
—
Ronnie must have been listening for her because she appeared at the door within seconds of her arrival home, armed with a bottle of prosecco.
“We should celebrate you catching all the villains and putting them away—or whatever it is you do with them.”
“Thank you, Watson.”
BEFORE
Sixty-eight
FRIDAY, AUGUST 23, 2019
Ten days earlier
Charlie
When the music started at the festival, it hit Charlie like a wave, making his head ring and his pulse race. He clapped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes. He was in a nightmare.
It was all Phil Golding’s fault. He’d lit the fuse to all this with his pathetic attempt to confess his sins. He certainly hadn’t been who Charlie had expected to be standing outside Birdie’s residential home. He’d thought it would be Bennett trying to track him down. Not this sad specimen. Phil Golding had never been much of a human being but he looked terrible standing there, framed by the delicate wisteria. It emphasized his yellow-tinged skin and Charlie noted the distended stomach and the flaking skin. He’d seen it before. Advanced alcoholism was never pretty.
“What are you doing here?” he’d asked.
And Phil had gone on about doing the right thing. Some Alcoholics Anonymous nonsense about making amends. And he thought he could just say sorry and have his slate wiped clean. Phil seriously thought he could get forgiveness from Birdie if he pitched up and apologized.
“That’s why I need to talk to her,” he said. “I’ve already made amends to Stuart for sending him. I explained it all to him. How you wanted the burglary done to get the insurance money. How it wasn’t his fault your daughter was there. He was very decent about it, considering.”
Charlie had pretended to listen to the rationale but all he could hear was his darling girl’s hurt and horror when she found out her father was a cheap criminal who had ruined her life through greed. She might forget the details quickly but she’d know who her dad really was.
He’d lose her again. And everything else he’d worked so hard to build.
Phil become distraught and Charlie put him in the car and drove him home. Charlie told Phil they’d go to see Birdie the next day. Together. On the way, he stopped for a pee and fetched the vodka the policewoman had donated to the raffle out of the boot. He’d added only a touch of antifreeze to seal the deal. Charlie left Phil with it at a park near his hostel and let nature take its course. The man was killing himself already. It was just hastening the process—it’d been a kindness really.
But, of course, it wasn’t over. It was just the first step. Phil Golding had told Bennett everything.
But Charlie thought he’d sorted it—he was going to get the money and shut Bennett down for good.
And it had all been falling into place until Bennett showed up early and Charlie had to run for it.
Charlie was hiding in the trees when the girl drifted into sight. A girl with her hair in plaits. And he thought he must be back in his nightmare. Back in Addison Gardens.
There’d been a girl there that night. He’d seen her when he’d done a quick drive-by in the interval before dessert was served. It was only ten minutes down the road from the dinner in Mayfair and he just wanted to check things were going to plan. For a moment, Charlie thought she’d come out of his house. But afterward, he told himself he must have imagined it. She was on the steps but he didn’t see the front door open. And he watched her skip away. She looked as if she was off to school. But it was nighttime. She was far too young to be out on her own. But he stopped thinking about her when minutes later Stuart Bennett ran out of the house like he was on fire.