The Cruellest Game (34 page)

The detective looked thoughtful. ‘She thought quickly, didn’t she? Gave you a false name, and so on.’

‘Yes. I suppose she was afraid that I might mention our meeting to Robert. I’m not sure that I would have thought so quickly, though. I mean, I don’t know if it was deliberate
or not, but she chose to call herself Bella, which is vaguely similar to Brenda. It’s what Robert did too, only he went further, using a last name that was damned near the same apart from one
letter. They say that people who adopt false identities are quite often found out because they don’t respond to their names properly. And that it’s easier if the names are similar. Is
that right in your experience, DS Jarvis?’

‘It probably is, yes. But there aren’t many people capable of maintaining a false identity, a double life, the way your husband did, that’s for certain.’

‘Thank God for that,’ I said. And I meant it from the bottom of my heart. The hurt and distress caused by such enormous deception could never fully be understood by anyone who had
not experienced it. I wouldn’t wish it on any human being.

‘Bella – I mean Brenda – did the same thing with her dog’s name,’ I went on. ‘She called him Flash; turns out he was really called Splash. Dogs respond to
sounds really, not actual words. So Splash and Flash would sound much the same to a dog and it would therefore respond to either as if it were the name it had been taught. Did you know that, DS
Jarvis?’

Jarvis nodded. ‘I’ve heard it,’ he said. ‘Though I have a dog that appears not to know her name or the sound of it. Always tearing off in the opposite direction . .
.’

I smiled and glanced down at Florrie, her head resting on my knee, her tail wagging occasionally, eyes not quite open, not quite shut. She was a real comfort to me, even in such dire
circumstances. More than that I rather envied her: well fed and well loved, unaware of the horrors of the last few weeks. She might be missing the presence of her masters, but they say dogs have
little concept of time. That’s why they will just sit and wait for their owners to return, even when they have been abandoned. But a loved and well looked after dog has a pretty good life, I
thought. An uncomplicated life, that was for sure. At that moment, and not for the first time since the death of my beloved son, I rather wished I was a dog.

My mind had wandered. I could hear that DS Jarvis was still speaking, but only in the distance. I made myself concentrate. I still had enough desire for self preservation to want very much to be
released from police bail and to no longer be suspected of a dreadful crime. I knew this was my opportunity to provide the information that could make this happen sooner rather than later. I needed
to grasp it.

‘So after that first meeting how did things develop?’ DS Jarvis was asking.

I explained that it was Bella who’d suggested a second dog walk together, instigated our swapping phone numbers, and made sure to arrange further meetings.

‘So she took the initiative, did she?’ queried Jarvis.

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘I also realize now how she always managed to turn any conversation she was having back to me and my family. She must have learned so much about us. She
certainly had the knack of doing that without raising any suspicions. And I was someone who wasn’t used to talking about myself to strangers.’

The detective sergeant proceeded to press me on every detail I could remember in my dealings with Bella, and he took a note of all our meetings. Not surprisingly he was particularly intrigued by
what had happened on the night of Robbie’s death, when I had – and it so made my flesh crawl now – turned to Bella for company and comfort, and then Robert had walked into
Highrise to find the two women in his life together.

‘How on earth did he react to that?’ asked DS Jarvis.

I tried to answer him truthfully and accurately. Bizarrely, it was very hard for me to remember. I suppose at the time all I had been thinking about was the death of my son and then the relief,
albeit so fleeting as things turned out, of at least having my husband home to share my grief with.

‘I suppose he just looked stunned,’ I said. ‘But then I would have expected him to be stunned that night, and at the time I certainly didn’t think it had anything to do
with Brenda’s presence. He said something like “What the hell is she doing here?” But I didn’t think anything of that either, really. He never liked visitors much. And one
thing there is no doubt about is how much Robert adored Robbie. Being the kind of man he is . . .’

I paused. ‘I suppose I should say the kind of man I once thought him to be. Well, I would have expected him to want to be alone with his wife. The mother of the son who meant so much to
him. His reaction didn’t surprise me.’

‘And Brenda Anderton? How did she react? They must both have known, husband and wife, that their various games were up. She’d been stalking you and Robbie, hadn’t she?
That’s what it amounted to.’

He glanced at me as if waiting for a response. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but of course that is exactly what she had done.

I nodded. Jarvis continued.

‘Robert must have realized, at the very least, when he saw her here, that Brenda knew about his double life. There could have been no doubt in his mind about that, surely?’

Again, I had difficulty remembering.

‘He told me that today, but on the night she just left, and I really wasn’t aware of anything strange,’ I said. ‘She left more or less straight away after Robert arrived.
I remember apologizing to her, for Robert’s rudeness, I suppose.’ I half laughed. ‘Deeply engrained English courtesy even in such circumstances. She said something like “Of
course you need to be on your own now.” And she just went.’

‘But sooner or later there must have been a confrontation between them, presumably? Yet things carried on much the same for you, in as much as they could, after the death of your
son.’

I told him that Robert had admitted to me that he’d gone straight to see Brenda the next day and how she’d agreed to put up with his double life, put up with almost anything, as long
as he didn’t leave her or the girls. She’d even continue the deception.

‘But, of course, he didn’t know what it seems she must already have been planning, did he? That the death of your son was not enough. She was determined to destroy you
completely.’

I nodded. Then realized what Jarvis had said.

‘Does that mean you also now believe she had something to do with Robbie’s death?’

DS Jarvis stared me directly in the eye, something he had never really done before. Perhaps he had never been able to bring himself to look directly into the eyes of a woman he thought was
mad.

‘We have no way of knowing that for certain, Mrs Anderson, do we? At least, not at the moment. But I can assure you that we will be thoroughly re-investigating that matter along with the
abduction of Luke Macintyre and the break-ins and destruction of your home.’

This time I knew I could trust him to do so. I felt mightily relieved. I didn’t think I cared very much about myself any more, and I was somewhat surprised by how much I wanted those
criminal charges against me dropped. But now surely that would happen, and hopefully in the not too distant future.

Price, who had been keeping in the background while his superior officer did most of the questioning, shuffled forward in his chair and leaned towards me.

‘Mrs Anderson, do you know where we could locate your husband right now?’ he asked. ‘Do you know where he is living?’

‘Well, yes, of course,’ I said straight away, mildly surprised that they hadn’t grasped what I felt to be obvious. ‘At the home on the Bridge Estate that he shared with
Brenda. He returned from the North Sea after being told the news of her death, as you’re aware, and I presume he is looking after his younger daughter there as we speak. And I know, well, as
much as you ever know anything with Robert, that he was there with his other family after he came home when I was arrested, until going back to work just two or three days ago. He phoned me from
the airport . . .’

I told them about hearing the airport noises, the flight calls and so on.

I saw Jarvis and Price exchange meaningful looks. It seemed I had presented another possibility to them, one that now probably seemed quite obvious too, and one which this time they took swiftly
on board.

‘We will also be conducting further investigations into the motor incident that caused Mrs Brenda Anderton’s death,’ said Jarvis.

I noted the choice of word. Motor incident. The newspaper report had called it an accident.

DC Price interjected again.

‘Mrs Anderson, do you happen to know if your husband has any mechanical knowledge of motor cars at all?’ he asked.

‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘He’s a very good car mechanic. It’s what he used to do before he went on the rigs. He’s always looked after all our vehicles . .
.’

I stopped in mid-sentence. Jarvis and Price exchanged an even more meaningful look.

It was Jarvis who spoke next. And his expression was sombre.

‘Mrs Anderson, if your husband had come to believe, as we know you do, that his first wife was in some way responsible for your son’s death, whether or not she in fact was, how do
you think he would have reacted to that?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ I stumbled. ‘He told me he couldn’t believe she would ever do anything like that. Even if you accepted the other things she really must have done,
the kidnap, and the house trashing and so on, he couldn’t believe she would have deliberately brought about Robbie’s death. At least that’s what he said. Of course, I have finally
learned not to accept as truth anything he says, really.’

Jarvis nodded. ‘So let’s say he suspected her, nothing more than that. And he must have, surely. What do you think he might have done?’

It was pretty clear where he was leading. I didn’t know quite what to say.

‘What do you think Robert may have been capable of?’ Jarvis persisted.

I took a few seconds before I answered.

‘He worshipped Robbie,’ I said. ‘I think, I honestly think, that he could have been capable of anything, anything at all.’

DS Jarvis, again accompanied by DC Price, returned to Highrise the very next day just before 5 p.m. They gave me no advance warning so I entertained them in the kitchen, but
this time I did offer them some refreshment, something I had omitted to do the previous afternoon.

I made them the cappuccinos they requested and piled shortbread biscuits onto a plate while they began to tell me of the considerable progress which had been made in the last twenty-four hours
or so.

It seemed that Brenda Anderton’s home had been searched from top to bottom by Scenes of Crime Officers and substantial evidence found indicating that Luke Macintyre had been there.

‘There were fingerprints and bits of hair and other DNA evidence that we’re pretty sure will prove to have come from the boy, though we have to wait for the DNA results,’
Jarvis told me. ‘Same in the woman’s car. Seems clear she snatched him from his garden and then kept him at her own home before bringing him here in an attempt to frame you. Just as you
thought.’

He paused. I didn’t say anything. All I felt was relief. This surely proved that I had nothing whatsoever to do with Luke Macintyre’s abduction.

‘And we found his clothes in her dirty washing basket,’ Jarvis went on. ‘It’s bizarre. She’d made no attempt to conceal them, just put them there with her own and
her daughter’s clothes as if he were one of the family and she was preparing to do his washing. Her husband, Robert, like you said, was almost certainly at the house he shared with Brenda
after you sent him away until going back to the North Sea. He could have found them—’

I interrupted, half smiling in spite of everything. ‘Not Robert,’ I said. ‘He always had strict ideas about the demarcation between a man’s job and a woman’s. He
didn’t do washing.’

Jarvis inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘It kind of indicates that she at first may have treated Luke almost like one of her family. Although we now know she gave the child drugs,
presumably to keep him quiet and docile, every sign in the house shows that she was looking after Luke reasonably well. And yet then she apparently left him more or less naked in your shed on a
freezing cold day. Doesn’t make any sense.’

I shrugged. ‘Of course it doesn’t make any sense. The woman had a terrible hereditary disease which seriously affects mental health and on top of that she discovered her husband had
bigamously married another woman, leading a privileged life with her and fathering a healthy child, something she could never have. I thought you believed that people can simply be mad, DS Jarvis?
I think Brenda Anderton was driven mad.’

DS Jarvis ignored the jibe, if it even registered, and spoke quietly. ‘Yes, I think that probably is about the sum of it,’ he said.

‘It doesn’t excuse what she’s done, though,’ I said. ‘Not to that poor little boy or to me.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ said Jarvis. ‘I just regret that she is no longer with us to stand trial. We might have found out the truth about all kinds of things.’

I nodded.

‘And how is Luke Macintyre? Is he going to be all right?’

‘Looks like it, thankfully. We’re told he’s recovering well. Physically, at any rate. There are psychological implications, of course, even though he’s so
young.’

‘And what about me, Detective Sergeant? Do I still have to stand trial?’

Jarvis shook his head. ‘That’s really what I came to see you about, Mrs Anderson. Obviously no charges will be made against you and you are therefore released unconditionally from
police bail. There’s some paperwork, just a formality . . .’

I felt the relief wash over me. It was like a warm bath, cleansing and restoring, when you feel dirty and vaguely unwell.

‘Thank God,’ I said.

DS Jarvis looked down at his coffee cup, while fiddling with the cuff on one of his jacket sleeves. I remembered him doing exactly the same on the night Robbie had died. Obviously something of a
nervous tick when he didn’t feel entirely comfortable.