The Good Samaritan
Page 70

 John Marrs

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Suddenly I became aware that Tony wasn’t there either. I hurried outside and caught him further up the road, his car keys in his hand.
‘Tony!’ I shouted. ‘Please wait.’
He paused and held his back to me before turning. He seemed angry and I couldn’t think why.
‘You didn’t stay for the drinks.’
‘That was a nice speech,’ he replied.
‘Thank you. I thought it best to keep it brief.’
‘It’s a shame you didn’t mean a word of it.’ His directness caught me unawares.
‘Can you blame me?’ I asked. ‘I’d heard the two of you had been dating behind my back. But while Janine and I may not have seen eye to eye, that doesn’t matter now. Death is a great leveller and nobody deserves what happened to her.’
‘Spare me, Laura. I know how you think. You could barely keep a straight face as you read that script out.’
I didn’t want to argue with him, despite his best efforts to pick a fight.
‘How are the girls?’ I continued. ‘It feels like an eternity since I last saw them. I’ve left them voicemails but they haven’t called me back yet.’
‘And what does that tell you?’
‘I was thinking of popping by the house—’
He moved closer to me. ‘You are not coming anywhere near them, do you hear me?’ he growled. ‘You have done enough to fuck them up already.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Is this still about Effie and her teacher?’
‘What else would it be about? She told me everything. How he tried to groom her and how you warned her not to tell me. I’m her bloody father! I had a right to know!’
I bet she hasn’t told you everything, I thought. If she was anything like her mum, she’d have remained tight-lipped over being a willing party in setting Ryan up, knowing full well he wasn’t a paedophile.
‘I dealt with it,’ I replied. ‘I was trying to show you I’m ready to be a good parent again.’
‘A good parent would’ve told me. A good parent would not have publicly humiliated their daughter by posting the recording on Facebook for the world to hear.’
‘The school was taking too long to handle it.’
‘Did you know she’s now being home-schooled because the bullying became so bad?’
‘No. But if you’d answered my messages, perhaps I could’ve helped her.’
He raised his voice. ‘How could you have helped when this is all your fault in the first place? I know what he was accusing you of saying to those callers. So what that bastard did to my daughter and Janine is because of what you started.’
Something about his expression told me he had his regrets, too, but quite what they were I couldn’t be sure.
‘Everything I have ever done is because I love you and our family. All I want is for us to be back together again. Is that too much to ask?’
‘No, Laura, everything you do is for your own good and it always has been. Everyone else is just collateral damage in the fight to get what you want.’
‘I may have made a few mistakes along the way,’ I conceded, ‘but this all began because you broke our family up.’
‘And it was the best thing I ever did, because the girls and Henry are in a safer environment without you. You are a bad force in all of our lives. Janine was a kind woman and worth a hundred of you. The only good thing to come about from her death is that people will remember her for the wonderful person she was.’
Not for much longer, I thought. In taking her iPad from her handbag the afternoon she died, I had access to the typed list of passwords she’d saved because she was too stupid to remember them. And that included both her bank details and those of End of the Line. Shortly before she met her maker, I’d transferred £40,000 from the charity’s account to her own. A further £5,000 had been deposited into her online gambling accounts. It would be a few more weeks before the accountants began their annual audits, and it wouldn’t take long to trace the missing money.
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. ‘Tony, this isn’t the time or place to have this discussion,’ I continued. ‘Why don’t you come around to the house tonight and we’ll talk properly.’
‘No, Laura. You’re not getting it, are you?’ He sounded exasperated. ‘I don’t ever want to be in that house or anywhere near you again. You are poison.’
‘Eight o’clock,’ I replied. ‘Come round for then and I’ll make us something nice to eat.’
He shook his head as he approached his car and drove away.
CHAPTER TWO
LAURA – THREE MONTHS AFTER RYAN
There weren’t many mourners at Ryan’s funeral – a dozen at best and probably all family, from what I could see, although my view from inside the car wasn’t clear. There had been at least twice that number at Chantelle’s, and she was a filthy drug addict. But then who would want to be seen in public bidding a final farewell to an accused paedophile and murderer? It wouldn’t reflect greatly on anyone.
When the newspapers reported that a body had been found tangled up in fishermen’s nets off the East Sussex coast, where Ryan was thought to have stepped off the cliff, I crossed my fingers and prayed it would be him. It was only when he was positively identified through his DNA that I could truly relax.
The date and location of his funeral weren’t advertised, and it had taken many calls claiming to be a family member wanting to know where I could send flowers before I discovered the funeral director organising his service and the location.
Ryan’s body wasn’t driven in a hearse. No family members followed behind in black limousines and there was to be no church service or burial for him. Instead, he’d been taken in the back of an unmarked coroner’s van directly to the crematorium in neighbouring Kettering. The only flowers greeting his arrival were my lilies, hand-delivered and left by the door with an anonymous card attached reading I won.
Outside the crematorium, photographers from news agencies and a local TV station I’d tipped off took pictures and filmed his coffin being removed from the vehicle and whisked inside. I hadn’t only taken Ryan’s life away from him, I’d taken his funeral, too.
I decided against joining Ryan’s mourners and risk being unmasked, so I remained in my car instead. Although I’ll admit to feeling a little frustrated at not being there as the final curtain circled his coffin after all my effort. I wondered what they’d do with his ashes and if they’d be scattered somewhere near Charlotte’s. I’d never engineered the deaths of a husband and wife before. I’d find it hard to top that with my next candidates.
As everyone made their way inside, I recalled the last time I’d been to a crematorium was to say goodbye to Olly. There had been even fewer of us there than at Ryan’s funeral – myself and six of his vagrant friends, who I’d bribed with enough alcohol to last them a week. I wasn’t even sure if they knew who Olly was.
I missed talking to my friend. Even when we weren’t in touch, just knowing he was about somewhere had made me feel there was someone on my side. I still couldn’t understand how the coroner and policewoman had got when and where he died so wrong. Why did they dismiss my claims so readily? I was sure I was with him at least six months after they reckoned he was dead. Regardless, I was happy not to have shared his last breath.