Little Boy Blue - страница 48

As she did so, Charlie reflected on her earlier irritations. She realized now how unworthy those thoughts were, how petty her complaints. Life had its frustrations, but in reality she was blessed. She possessed one thing that Sally Jackson might never experience again – a happy, healthy, loving family. And for that she was eternally grateful.

Helen laid down her flowers and kissed the headstone in front of her. It was gone 2 a.m. and the driving rain raked the lonely cemetery, but still Helen lingered, pressing her forehead against the cool stone. She had been on her feet for nearly forty-eight hours, but was too wired and upset to return home. She would rather be doing something – anything – than pace her flat, and, besides, this was a duty she never shirked. Marianne was family, so every Thursday night after hours Helen came here, to tend her graveside and leave flowers for the sister she had loved and lost.

Offering a few final words of love, Helen turned and walked down the path. She had hoped a simple act of kindness, of remembrance, might dispel the darkness growing within her – but her conscience weighed heavily on her tonight. She had only just got back to base when Charlie rang. She was racing to the hospital, panicking and upset, and her news had hit everyone hard. Paul Jackson had been a decent suspect, but now he was fighting for his life.

Had they driven an innocent man to suicide? The press had to take some of the blame, but so did her officers. It would play hard on Sanderson’s conscience whatever the outcome, but it was ultimately her fault – the team was Helen’s responsibility and, in failing to identify the growing hostility between her DSs, she had committed an unforgiveable oversight. If he died, they would all have to answer for it.

Helen had reached the gates now and paused to look down over Southampton. It was a dark, brooding night, relentless bands of rain sweeping over the city, and the lights twinkled mischievously below, as if revelling in the dark deeds that go undetected at night. Helen instinctively felt that their latest thinking was right – that someone within the BDSM community was responsible for Jake’s murder. Samantha was potentially a good fit but, if so, why had she suddenly snapped? What had Jake done to provoke such savage treatment? And where was she now? As ever, there were more questions than answers.

The rain continued to sweep the hillside, but Helen didn’t move. She remained stock still, a lone figure lost in her thoughts, surrounded on all sides by death.

‘It’s so nice to meet you. I just wish it could have been in happier circumstances.’

Emilia gave David Simons her best happy-but-sad smile. Jake Elder’s former boyfriend had arrived on the first train from London and Emilia had been waiting for him. It was highly unlikely that another journalist would have got wind of his arrival in Southampton, but she’d decided not to take any chances, whisking him from the station back to base. They were now tucked away in her small office, breakfasting on strong coffee and the best doughnuts Southampton had to offer. In Emilia’s experience, sugar was the best medicine for grief.

Simons was jetlagged following his flight from Los Angeles, which only exacerbated his disorientation and distress. Emilia had the sense that tears weren’t far away and she was keen to keep him on track, gently coaxing his story from him.

‘So you and Jake were together for…’

‘Six, seven months.’

‘And you saw each other regularly during that period?’

‘Pretty much every day.’

‘And how would you characterize your relationship?’

‘Good. Very good at first. He was so generous and kind -’

‘And then?’

Simons looked up at her, a flash of irritation crossing his face. Emilia sensed he was irked to have been dragged away from happy memories to the painful reality, but she didn’t let her concern show.

‘Most of the time it was great, but fairly early on it became clear that there were… limits to our relationship.’

Emilia leant forward.

‘Meaning?’