‘I’m sure if Diana knew anything, she wouldn’t be quietly sat at home.’
‘I have to think of Sean too,’ says Fiona. ‘I don’t want him to have any surprises. Not while he’s investigating Roisin’s disappearance. He could get into trouble at work. Conflict of interest. Or accused of not doing his job properly because he doesn’t want Roisin found.’
We continue the journey in silence until I pull up outside Fiona’s house. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ I say. ‘I suppose you had better tell him everything.’
‘He doesn’t want any of this to come out any more than we do. But it could put him in a really difficult position,’ says Fiona.
‘What were we thinking of back then? Why did we ever think we could pull this off?’
‘At the time it was very straightforward,’ says Fiona. ‘Never in a million years did we think anyone would find out, least of all Roisin. Don’t start with the recriminations. It’s too late for that. We have to deal with the here and now.’
When I get back to the flat I go straight to Mum and Dad’s bedroom. Opening the wardrobe doors, I kneel down in front of the safe. I’m glad Dad didn’t invest in one of those safes with a keypad and secret number, having a key makes life so much easier.
My hand is shaking with both excitement and fear. Never in my life have I ever been allowed anywhere near the safe. Dad is the keeper and doesn’t even allow Mum to open it. I wonder what I’m about to find. It’s as if I’m committing a crime merely by having the key, let alone opening the safe. Dad would be furious if he knew. In the past, defying his wishes would have given me a sense of satisfaction, but today it’s not there. Today there’s guilt and fear.
I’ve taken the key from my mum without her knowing because I am suspicious of her. Guilt. If I find what I think I will in the safe, then the implications are huge. Fear.
I wipe my sweaty palm on my trouser leg, buying myself a few seconds.
The key turns easily. I can feel the internal locks moving and hear a clank as the bolt is freed from its position. I open the door and peer inside.
The navy-blue coin bag is sitting folded neatly in half at the front of the safe. I lift it out. Inside the cloth bag, bundled up with an elastic band, is a collection of notes, twenties, tens and fives. A till receipt is on top. I examine the date and check on my phone. Fifteenth of May. Yep, that’s the day Dad had his accident.
I sit back on my heels as the implications float around in my mind, settling in an uncomfortable order. Mum has been lying about the key. She’s lied about the takings in the safe. Why? And what else has she lied about? For whatever reason, she wants us to think that my dad might have been mugged for the takings. There’s something about that night that she’s not telling us.
I sink back onto the carpet, bringing my knees up and resting my chin on them.
The only reason Mum would be lying would be to protect someone. Who would she go to such lengths to protect?
I know there is only one answer.
‘Oh, Jesus, Mum,’ I say out loud. ‘What have you done?’
Chapter 30
Kerry rubbed his hair dry with the towel and pulled on his black t-shirt before going in search of his jeans. Ten minutes earlier he had seen Erin pull up outside the café. He had been thinking about what she’d told him. In fact, it had never been far from his mind, trying to reconcile her actions with his morals. It made him sound pompous when he said it like that, but the divide was there. However, ignoring it wasn’t solving it.
He sat down on the sofa and slipped on his boots. He’d go over on the pretext he was checking she was okay after her visit to her dad. It was partly true, but it would also give him the opportunity to talk to her.
A sudden crash from outside had him jumping up to look out of the window.
Kerry knew the sound. It was the distinctive dull crunch of metal on metal.
‘Shit.’
Grabbing his keys, he ran out of the flat, down the outside steps and round into the side road.
He could see a black Audi A3 embedded in the side of a silver estate. He recognised the cars immediately. The Audi belonged to Diana Marshall and the silver estate was Jim Hurley’s.
The door of the A3 swung open and out stumbled Diana Marshall. Kerry increased his stride.
‘Mrs Marshall!’ he called. Diana staggered towards him. As he reached her, he put out his arms to stop her from falling over. It was then that the waft of alcohol hit him. Jesus, she wasn’t concussed at all, she was steaming drunk.
‘Where’s that bloody Hurley girl?’ Diana slurred her words as she spoke, pushing Kerry away from her. ‘I need to speak to her.’