The Last Girl (58 page)

‘That helps.’

‘Does it?’

‘It might.’ I hesitated. ‘Did they confirm this Hannah Clarke is related to Laura Kennford?’

A roll of thunder echoed across the hills, and I almost didn’t hear Colin’s response.

‘Same father, looks like.’

‘Same father,’ I repeated. ‘Christ.’

‘Is it starting to make sense now?’

‘Of a sort.’ I thanked him and hung up, then retraced my steps to the barn door. Zoe was still standing beside Liv but she had crossed her arms.

‘Can I see your upper left arm, please?’

‘Why?’ She cupped a hand over it.

‘I need to see if you have a scar there.’ I was aware that everyone was listening to our conversation. ‘I need to know if you’re Philip Kennford’s daughter.’

A confused babble broke out; I was aware of Kennford expostulating, of Zoe laughing hysterically and above it all, Derwent’s voice.

‘That’s fucking twisted, that is. You do realise that would mean she was shagging her sister.’

I ignored it all, peeling her fingers off her arm and holding her hand with as much force as I could muster. She was tall, and strong, and she wanted to fight me off, but she must have known she couldn’t win.

Halfway down her left bicep there was a pale scar shaped like a teardrop. It was about an inch long. Unmistakable. Undisguisable.

And she stopped laughing.

I cleared my throat.

‘Zoe Prowse, also known as Hannah Clarke, I’m arresting you for the murder of Vita Kennford and Laura Kennford, and the murder of Savannah Wentworth. You
do
not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’

No answer.

Then again, I hadn’t really expected one.

Chapter Twenty-five

‘THE THING ABOUT
DNA is that even the thickest juror can understand it.’

Zoe stared at the opposite wall of the interview room, her expression stony. It was the same room we’d used to interview Lydia and Seth Carberry, provided by Sussex Police without us needing to do more than ask, and we’d been there for an hour already.

‘You can’t deny your relationship to Philip Kennford, Zoe. It’s there in black and white.’ I slid the page across the table. ‘To be honest, I’m not the best at interpreting scientific information, but I won’t have to in court. There’ll be experts. They can prove your connection to the Kennford family. Or to Philip, anyway.’

Nothing.

‘Don’t you want him to know who you are? Don’t you want him to acknowledge you?’ I leaned in. ‘Isn’t that what all of this was about?’

A flicker of irritation passed over her face.

‘You wanted him to acknowledge you, but you couldn’t get a toe in the door.’

Derwent had turned a chair around and was straddling it. ‘We had a word with Vita’s sister Renee. She’d mentioned one of Philip Kennford’s illegitimate kids turning up last year, but we didn’t know she meant an adult. We assumed she was talking about an infant. It was you, wasn’t it?’

‘And Vita wouldn’t give you the time of day. She just
wanted
to protect her family and keep you out of their cosy little world.’ I flipped through my folder of notes on Zoe, hastily pulled together from various official sources. I still couldn’t think of her as Hannah, even though it was her real name. ‘You didn’t have what I’d call a privileged childhood, did you? Lots of time in foster care. Lots of trouble with the police, social services. And then your mother died when you were twelve.’

The composure wavered for a split second, an unguarded expression on Zoe’s face. I knew Derwent had seen it too. It was the first real reaction we had had. A way in, possibly.

‘What was it – drugs?’ To me, Derwent said, ‘I bet it was drugs.’

‘She took an overdose.’ It was as if Zoe couldn’t stop herself from saying it.

‘Topped herself?’

‘It was an accident.’

‘She was a druggie, though. Had to have been for you to be taken off her. Do you know how hard it is to get the courts to take a kid away from a parent?’

‘Not hard enough.’ Zoe glared at Derwent. ‘She was doing her best.’

‘Coralie. Pretty name.’

‘He still couldn’t remember her.’ Zoe sounded bitter, understandably. It was Philip Kennford who had demanded to know Zoe’s mother’s name back in the barn. I thought it was probably a moment she had dreamed of all her life, but his response fell quite a long way short of what she might have wanted.

‘Sorry. Not ringing any bells.’

Coralie Clarke had been eighteen when he met her, Zoe told him. She had been pretty – very.

‘You slept with her a few times. I don’t know how many.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He had looked sorry, too. ‘Do you know any more details?’

‘Mum wasn’t very good with details.’

‘I just don’t recall a Coralie.’

Zoe’s eyes had been huge, unwavering, fixed on Kennford’s face. ‘She never forgot you.’

‘I suppose she had you to remind her. I never knew about you.’

‘She told you. She wrote, twice, and she waited for you on the street when you were coming out of court once. She told you,’ Zoe repeated.

‘None of that happened.’

‘Would you remember?’ I had asked, curious. ‘You’re not very interested in that kind of thing, it seems to me.’

‘I think I’d remember a child.’

‘You didn’t care about Niele’s baby.’

‘I never had to care about it. It was never going to become a reality. Niele wasn’t maternal.’

‘Nor was my mother.’ It was the last thing Zoe had said, clamming up while we made the arrangements for her to be transported to the police station. She had stared at Philip Kennford for as long as she could see him, as if she was learning his face. It was the first time she had spoken to him, I reminded myself. And presumably not in the circumstances she had intended.

‘It must have been hard for you to see what Philip Kennford’s other daughters thought of as a normal life,’ I said now, hoping she would keep talking. ‘The things they took for granted.’

‘Life isn’t fair.’ She said it with a tight smile.

‘That wasn’t a lesson Laura had learned, was it? She was born to privilege. Money. The best of everything.’

Zoe shrugged.

‘And Lydia had the same. But she didn’t make the most of it, did she? She spoiled it for herself by not eating and hurting herself. She invented problems for herself.’

‘Poor Lydia.’

‘Poor Lydia who according to you is trying to frame you
for
murdering Savannah.’ Derwent leaned his head on his folded arms. ‘You must know that’s not going to work.’

Zoe looked irritated. ‘You can believe what you like. I can’t make you take my word over hers.’

‘Why don’t you tell us your version?’ I checked the time. ‘You know he’s probably at the hospital with Lydia. Sitting by her bed. He’s made his choice already.’

‘He doesn’t know what you’ve done for him. The sacrifices you’ve made.’ Derwent shook his head. ‘I don’t have any kids, but I’d love to think someone might care about me some day the way you care about Philip Kennford. You’ve earned his love. Lydia had every opportunity to impress him and she blew it, time and time again. And yet he’s still there with her.’

Zoe stared down at her hands, pressing the palms together. ‘I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.’

‘We’re just trying to help. Trying to get you to tell us why you got involved with Philip Kennford’s daughters in the first place.’ I sat back in my chair.
Keep her calm
…

‘What came first? Meeting Vita or meeting Savannah?’

‘Vita,’ she said reluctantly.

‘From what I know of her, she could be quite hard work. Especially if she thought her family were threatened by something.’

‘By me. By my very existence.’ She blinked back tears. ‘I just wanted to say to her, I didn’t ask to be born, you know? Same old story – punish me for existing.’

‘What did you want?’

‘To meet him. To get to know him. To have a family.’ She shrugged. ‘It was stupid, but I thought he’d be proud of me. I’d gone from having nothing to getting my life on track. I’d worked fucking hard to get somewhere – to make something of myself. I thought he’d admire that. I wasn’t asking for money, or much of his time, or anything more than a chance to talk to them.’

‘And Vita wasn’t having it.’

‘She was a racist bitch,’ Zoe spat. ‘She didn’t want anyone to know he’d slept with a black woman. She couldn’t stand the idea of me being part of her world.’

‘Did she say that?’

‘Not in so many words, I suppose.’ A single tear slid out of her right eye and she rubbed it away. ‘I could tell. She said I wouldn’t fit in. The girls wouldn’t know what to make of me, and nor would her husband.’

‘Did she offer you money?’

‘Some.’

‘How much?’

‘A thousand pounds.’ Zoe’s mouth twisted. ‘Not a lot, really. She must have thought I’d be cheap.’

‘She misjudged you,’ Derwent said. ‘Underestimated you. Made you angry.’

‘I wasn’t angry. Not then. I was hurt.’

‘All right. You were hurt. But you weren’t going to give up.’

Zoe sighed. ‘I knew about Savannah. I knew she was his daughter, and a famous model and I wangled an invitation to a London Fashion Week party she was going to.’

‘Did you plan to start a relationship with her?’

‘No.’ She looked shocked. ‘Not at all.’

‘You wanted to get to know her,’ I said. ‘Another of your sisters. You could have told her who you were, once you’d got to know her a bit.’

She nodded. ‘That was the idea. I never even thought we could be real friends, but I thought there might be a connection there.’

‘That was an understatement, wasn’t it?’ Derwent ran a hand over his face. ‘I don’t know how you could do it, you know. Sleep with her. Your own sister.’

The blood rushed into her cheeks. ‘Don’t judge me. It wasn’t planned. She made all the running.’

‘She had a boyfriend,’ I said quietly. ‘She dumped him
for
you. You must have given her the idea her attentions were welcome.’

‘It wasn’t cynical. It wasn’t.’ She looked stubborn. ‘It happens. Genetic sexual attraction, it’s called.’

‘Incest,’ Derwent said.

‘It’s not like that. It happens to people who didn’t grow up with their families. They meet as adults and they’re alike because they’ve got the same genes, and there’s an emotional bond that feels like love whether they understand they’re related or not. It can be mothers and their sons, or fathers and daughters, or siblings, or half-siblings, like me and Sav.’

‘You’ve read up on it,’ I observed.

‘I didn’t know what was happening to me,’ she said quietly. ‘I couldn’t understand the feelings I had for Savannah. I thought I was sick in the head. I saw a counsellor and she explained it.’

‘Savannah described meeting Zoe as being like finding her soulmate. She said it was like looking in the mirror and seeing Zoe look back,’ I said to Derwent. ‘People do fall in love with people who are like them.’

‘If you say so. I still think it’s twisted.’

‘Your mind is as broad as a cat hair, though.’ I rolled my eyes at Zoe, inviting her to laugh at Derwent, and managed to get a watery smile. I wanted her to like me. I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her to keep talking. ‘You know, I should have realised you and Savannah were related. I thought you looked alike the first time I met you. Both tall. Both like your dad, features-wise. The same shape of hands and ears.’

She nodded. ‘I think if Mum had been white we’d have looked really similar. As it was, Sav had to keep her weight down and I’m more athletic, so that made us look a bit different.’

‘I hadn’t noticed a likeness,’ Derwent said.

‘That’s because you were too busy staring at Savannah.’
She
said it without heat, but she wasn’t wrong and Derwent didn’t try to deny it.

‘So you started a relationship,’ I said. ‘Was it your idea to keep it a secret?’

‘I didn’t know what to do. I knew it was burning my boats with my father – he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me if he knew that I knew I was sleeping with my sister. And I didn’t want Vita to recognise me and tell the world. So I told Savannah to keep it quiet. We moved down here and stayed out of the public eye. It suited both of us.’

‘Must have been frustrating, though. You were closer to your father than ever, but you had no way to get to him. If he had been willing to accept Savannah’s new girlfriend, I suppose you might have left it at that and formed a relationship with him on that basis. No one would need to know the truth about your identity, and it wasn’t all bad, was it? She had money, and good looks, and she thought you were wonderful.’

‘We fell in love.’