Chapter 52 Birdy
BIRDY
The door opens and I enjoy the sight of Carter squirming in the distance as I enter his home.
The usually empty pub was packed full of people—all with their faces painted like skeletons for the Day of the Dead parade—so in lots of ways it was a relief to get away.
Carter’s lovely, albeit very young wife takes my jacket and hangs it on the bottom banister of the stairs, on top of an already teetering pile of coats.
I see the large and messy collection of wellies and walking shoes in the hallway, some caked in mud and sand, and it seems Carter’s home is not as neat and tidy as the rest of his life.
Jane leads me through to the kitchen and I take it all in.
The house has been decorated on a budget, but everything looks tasteful and carefully chosen.
It’s clean enough but not remotely tidy.
There is evidence of a baby everywhere I look, from the photos on the wall to the baby bouncer in the corner, and blankets, toys, and bottles strewn about the place.
But it still looks nice. Feels welcoming.
Like a real home. There’s something rather lovely about the organized chaos of family life.
I bookmark that thought and take a seat at the table.
“I’m not the world’s best cook, sorry in advance,” Jane says.
Looking at her I’m not convinced she’s the world’s best anything.
World’s best mother maybe? says a cruel voice inside my head.
Jane certainly seems to love her little girl.
Carter’s wife is not at all what I was expecting—but then I didn’t even know he was married until a few hours ago.
Jane looks exactly the same as she did earlier today, with her denim dungarees over a Breton top, and slippers shaped like animals that should only be worn by children.
She’s made no effort with her appearance from what I can tell, even though she was expecting me this time.
She clearly doesn’t see me as a threat or anything other than Carter’s boss.
And why should she?
Wives should be able to trust their husbands.
I try to have kind thoughts—apparently it’s scientifically proven to be better for your health—but it’s hard.
Jane is not the sort of girl I would have imagined Carter settling down with when he seems so overly ambitious in every other area of his life.
She’s a plain Jane if ever I saw one. “I hope you like homemade lasagna,” she says.
Depends on the home and who’s making it.
“That sounds delicious. Thank you so much for inviting me.”
“Well, I thought it would be good to get to know Carter’s boss. I know you’re new to the area, and he said you’re all alone, so I thought a bit of company might be nice.”
I am alone.
Forty-something years on the planet and I seem to have very little to show for it. Jane didn’t mean the words in a hurtful way, so I try not to let them hurt.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asks.
“Just water would be lovely.”
“We have wine. I bought it especially—”
“DCI Bird doesn’t drink alcohol,” Carter interrupts, as though I can’t answer for myself. It’s the first thing he has said since I arrived.
“Water is fine for me, but you go ahead,” I say.
“Oh…” Jane replies, as though I just said I drink only blood.
“Well, never mind. You’ve arrived in Hope Falls at a fun time.
Did you know about the Day of the Dead festival?
The torchlit parade starts just down the lane later.
I can’t go this year because of the baby—obviously—but the two of you should check it out after dinner. ”
I’d rather eat my own liver.
“That sounds wonderful. Can’t wait!”
Carter, who doesn’t seem to know where to look or what to say, fills my glass from the kitchen tap.
He must be wondering what I’m doing here and worrying about his lovely wife finding out he’s been cheating on her.
Why must men be so predictable and disappointing, even the good ones?
I hear a baby crying somewhere and the sound makes me shiver.
I look around, as though the child might be here in the kitchen, but then I see Jane checking what looks like a baby monitor.
I guess they make them high tech these days, there is a video feed and everything.
“Excuse me for a moment, Steren doesn’t normally fuss once she’s been put down.
I’m just going to double-check everything is okay, back in a minute,” Jane says before leaving the kitchen and scurrying up the stairs.
The room is thick with silence as soon as she is gone.
It isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s excruciating.
“Please don’t tell her,” Carter whispers as soon as she is out of earshot.
“Which part would you rather I didn’t tell your wife? That you had sex with your new boss, or that you lost your job today?”
“I thought I was just suspended?” I shake my head in disbelief. “I’ll do anything you want if you don’t tell her. Anything. I’ll … walk your dog, clean your scooter, I’ll buy you lunch every day, I’ll do all the station paperwork for a year. Two years. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like you should go fuck yourself.”
He looks like he might cry.
“I’m begging you,” he whispers.
“Well, I’d rather you didn’t. There’s no need to start shitting kittens, I’m not here to tell your wife anything. But I will say you’re an idiot for cheating on her. People would kill for what you have here. A real family.”
“What happened was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything—”
“Must you lower the bar every time you open your mouth?”
“I mean her, not you. She was a mistake,” he says.
“Has a lifetime of sea air rotted your brain or something?”
“I got married in a hurry. I wasn’t in love. We were drunk, we had sex—”
“And you thought your personality was sufficient birth control?”
I have no interest in his sob story. Carter’s sister already filled me in on how a drunken night minus the sense he was born with plus a one-night stand plus a pregnancy equaled a shotgun wedding.
“I was trying to do the right thing,” he says, looking very sorry for himself.
“For who?” I ask.
“My little girl. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I’d do anything for her. So just tell me what I need to do to make this right.”
There is something very likable about a man who cares more about his children than he does about himself.
“I met your daughter when I met your wife earlier. Steren is beautiful,” I tell him and his face transforms with pride.
“Thank you.”
“She has a very pretty name. Is it Cornish?”
He nods. “It means star, and she means the world to me. Tell me how to fix this. I can’t lose my job, we need the money—”
“Calm down. You’re not really suspended. I just said that to satisfy Harrison. He was so angry because of you I thought he might have a heart attack. One dead body on my first day is unfortunate, two would just be careless.”
“So I’m not suspended?”
“Not yet. Tell me what happened when you interviewed Harrison’s daughter. Was it a waste of time like I predicted?”
“Actually no.” He reaches inside his pocket then puts a silver key chain on the kitchen table.
It says love you to the moon and back and seems deeply inappropriate given his wife is upstairs.
I frown, he flips it over, and now I read the name: Eden.
He stares at me with a ta-da expression on his face.
“Am I missing something?” I ask.
“My fault, let’s start with Gabriella,” he says, then leaps up and grabs a slim folder from the kitchen counter, behaving like an excited schoolboy desperate to show me his homework. “Gabriella Woolf can’t speak. She whispers things, but nothing she says makes any sense—”
“So you had something in common then?”
He ignores me. “Her main carer is someone called Mary, but Mary looks like this.”
He puts what looks like a copy of an employment record on the kitchen table. It includes a picture of a blond woman. I stare at it. And at him. Then start to say, “But I thought this was—”
“Eden Fox. I thought so too.” Carter reaches for a pink laptop that I’m guessing belongs to his wife.
The screen displays a recipe for “Easy Lasagna.” Carter starts tapping on the keyboard and I see a search engine.
He types in EDEN FOX and ARTIST and up pops a website full of paintings of the sea and a picture of her face.
There is no doubt about it. Eden Fox and Mary are the same woman.
Oh. My. God.
I thought Carter was a nice-to-look-at waste of space. One of those junior police officers who is super keen but just not cut out for the job. Now I think I might have been wrong.
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me this before?” I ask.
“You suspended me before I got the chance—”
“So Eden Fox isn’t dead?”
He frowns. “No, I think the real Eden Fox is dead. I found her key chain on the cliff.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think Mary was pretending to be Eden Fox. I think the woman I arrested who said that her husband changed the locks when she was out for a run was the real Eden Fox and was telling the truth. I think Mary pretended to be her when she befriended people in the village. I think Mary was pretending to be her at the art gallery. I think Mary was pretending to be her husband’s wife, and that Harrison went along with it. ”
“Let me get this straight. You think there was more than one wife?”
“Yes.”
“And that Harrison and Mary pretended Mary was Eden?”
“Yes.”
“If that’s the case, where is the real Eden Fox?”
“They killed her. Or tricked her into killing herself. I think she’s who we found on the beach and it’s only a matter of time until the coroner confirms it,” Carter says, looking exceedingly proud of himself. And I think maybe he should be.
“But … why?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he says. “Perhaps we could brainstorm?”
I think Carter’s version of a brainstorm would be more like a light drizzle, but he’s onto something. I’m sure of it. Even if his theory is a smidgen far-fetched.
“You do know that what you’re suggesting sounds batshit?” I ask and he nods. “But it’s also good police work. You’ve shown initiative, you trusted your instincts, and you followed your gut. Well done, Carter. Perhaps we’ll make a detective out of you yet.”
If he were a dog he’d be wagging his tail.
“Thanks, boss. What do we do now?”
I pause to think for a moment, remembering why I came to Hope Falls.
Most people might have used the time to say goodbye to loved ones, or kept themselves busy crossing things off their bucket lists.
But I just want to do what I am best at while I still can: getting justice for people who can’t get it for themselves. Putting wrongs right.
And there is something very wrong about all of this.
“Well, after what you found out at The Manor, we clearly need to find Mary. But before we do that, we need to take all of this to Harrison,” I tell Carter.
“Really?”
“Yes. We need to question him again.”
“In the morning?”
“No, right now. Tonight.”