Chapter 8
Lottie quelled the seething anger as she drove.
Where the hell was Boyd? He knew she was due to be off today and he should have been on duty.
Their fractured personal relationship should not impact their work.
Priorities. He’d flung the word at her during arguments often enough.
So where were his priorities when it came to the job?
She’d have to talk with him. Later. Sometime.
After meeting with Superintendent Farrell, who appointed her as SIO on the case, it was over an hour later when she pulled up at Sadie Clarke’s house.
She calculated that it was about a five-minute drive from the crime scene at Russell Avenue.
From the outside, the house was similar in style to the Healys’.
Too big for the space it occupied. A tight, narrow lawn screamed afterthought.
If it was her place, she’d pave the whole damn lot.
The garage to one side at the rear also seemed to be an afterthought.
Inhaling deeply, she girded herself for the interview that would follow. At least the rain had fecked off.
The door was opened by a stunningly beautiful woman. Her long black hair was slicked back in a ponytail, a few stray tendrils framing her oval face and sultry brown eyes. Her skin shimmered in the soft October sunlight streaming in from behind Lottie.
‘Sorry to disturb you,’ Lottie said. ‘Sadie Clarke?’
‘Yes. Who’s asking?’ Pristinely plucked eyebrows puckered in a forehead otherwise devoid of lines.
A quick flick of ID. ‘Detective Inspector Lottie Parker. I need a word. All right if I come in?’
Sadie’s jaw dropped, suspended by an invisible thread. ‘What’s wrong? Is it Thomas?’
‘Thomas?’
‘My husband.’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with him. I need some information about your friends.’
‘What friends?’ she said stiffly.
Touchy, Lottie thought. ‘I’m here about the Healys.’
‘Oh. Excuse my manners. You gave me a shock. I thought something had happened to Thomas. Come in. And if you don’t mind leaving your shoes…
’ Sadie’s eyes narrowed downwards. ‘Leave your boots inside the door. The floors were varnished last week and Thomas will have a fit if there’s even one mark on them. ’
‘Sure.’ Lottie leaned a hand on the wall and kicked off her boots. No holes in her socks. Good.
As she followed Sadie down the wide hallway, she noted that the house was immaculately clean.
They entered what was probably a guest sitting room, with little appearance of having been lived in.
The good front room, she concluded. The minimalist chrome-legged furniture was possibly more upmarket than what she’d seen in the Healy house.
‘Beautiful space,’ she murmured, unconvinced.
‘Shame we hardly use it. Thomas wanted somewhere without clutter so that we could entertain, but he has his den, so it’s a waste.’
‘Nice to have it all the same.’
‘Please sit. Would you like a drink? Coffee? I can call Lily down to make it if you want to get on with your reason for calling.’
Lottie would have loved a shot of coffee but was afraid she’d spill it on the white-upholstered armchair she found herself sinking into.
‘No, I’m fine, thanks. Lily’s your daughter? Is she off school?’
‘Yes, she was overtired last night after Freya’s party, so I didn’t wake her this morning.
She’s in her room.’ Sadie sat back on the other armchair, legs crossed at the ankles.
Her jeans were probably designer, as was her red cotton shirt.
Lottie felt like a poor cousin, dressed in her Primark clothing.
Sadie continued, ‘What’s this about the Healys?
Caroline is my best friend. Only true friend, if you want to know. ’
She was talking too much, providing too much detail. She must be nervous about what had brought Lottie to her door.
‘I need a few details,’ Lottie said. ‘You were at their party?’
‘Yes. Lily is Freya’s best friend. It was a bit of a disaster, if I’m being honest.’
‘How so?’
‘Do you have children, Inspector?’
‘I do.’ She wasn’t about to tell this gorgeous woman that she was also a grandmother.
‘You know what they’re like at twelve. Think they’re eighteen. Freya had put on make-up – blusher, mascara the lot. Cam threw a glorified hissy fit.’
‘You’re talking about Cameron Healy?’
‘Yes. You should have a chat with Caroline. I could see she was fuming, though she likes to keep up appearances in public. Cam does too; this was the first time I’d seen him lose control.’
‘How did that play out?’
‘He grabbed Freya by the arm and sent her back upstairs. When she returned, the make-up was gone and it was obvious she’d been crying.’
‘Did Caroline intervene?’
‘No. She was quiet, but like I said, I could tell she was angry.’
‘Anything else of note happen?’
‘Not really.’ Sadie sighed. ‘There was tension in the air between Caroline and Cam, but that’s not unusual. He keeps a tight rein on his family. Freya enjoyed herself afterwards, though. Did I mention she’s best friends with my daughter?’
‘You did. Were there many at the party?’
‘They were coming and going. Maybe ten kids in total. It started at four and ended at six. We stayed on for a few drinks and left around eight.’
‘Anyone else stay?’
‘No. I think they were glad to get their tired kids home.’
‘Did ye drink much?’
‘Thomas had a few glasses of wine. I was designated driver, according to him. Caroline had her usual Diet Coke and maybe a sneaky glass of wine or two. She rarely drinks any more. I believe Cam won’t allow her to. He’s a grade-A asshole, if you ask me.’
‘Cameron and your husband – Thomas, is it? Are they friends?’
‘God, no. They tolerate each other. I haven’t much time for Cam either.’
‘Why is that?’ Lottie was happy to let the woman have a rant. There might be a nugget of insight there if it turned out that Cameron Healy did in fact kill his family and then himself.
‘Well, the way he treated his daughter yesterday, for one. You know, I never asked why you’re here enquiring about them. Has he done something?’
‘Cameron? Why would you think that?’
‘Obviously because you’re a detective and looking for information. And he’s a prick. What’s happened?’ Sadie sat rigid, waiting.
Lottie would have liked to get more information before revealing that the Healy family were dead. Now, though, she couldn’t put it off.
‘I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you, but there’s been a murder.’
Sadie jumped up, mouth open, before flopping back down again with her hand to her mouth. ‘He killed her, didn’t he? The bastard.’
‘We have no evidence to suggest what he did or didn’t do this early in—’
‘Oh my God! What about Freya? Who’s minding her? She can come stay with us. I’ll look after her.’ Sadie’s words slipped into each other.
Lottie could see the hysteria in the other woman’s gleaming brown eyes, and she knew she’d have to be careful with how she related the heartbreaking truth. Then again, the best way was to be upfront and honest.
‘Sadie, you need to brace yourself. Caroline, Cameron and Freya are all dead.’
The woman leapt to her feet again and fled the room, a strangled cry following in her wake. When she eventually returned, she was wiping her mouth with a face cloth.
‘He killed them, the bastard.’ She slumped back onto the chair.
‘We don’t know what happened yet. I need you to fill in some background information for me. I know you’re shocked, but time is vital in this sort of investigation.’
‘Okay… but I can’t get my head around this. Are you saying Cam killed himself? But I know him. Or I knew him as well as anyone could, because he hid behind a perfect veneer. He was such a narcissist, I would have thought he’d want to revel in his infamy.’
‘What makes you come to that conclusion?’
‘He was a control freak. He bossed Caroline around. I told you he rarely let her drink alcohol. And he didn’t like her wearing cosmetics, not even perfume.
To the world, he presented as the guy who had it all.
Perfect wife and daughter. Mr Good Guy. In reality, he was almost broke and his marriage was a fucking sham. ’
Lottie stored this information in her head. ‘Can you give me any evidence of his mental state?’
‘Do you not believe me?’
‘I need hard facts.’
Sadie snorted. ‘He killed them, didn’t he? Is that not enough for you? God!’
‘We can take a break, Sadie. Will I make you some tea?’
‘I don’t want tea!’ She paused, breathless, as if remembering who she was talking to.
‘I’m sorry, it’s such a shock.’ She unwrapped her hair and tied it up again.
‘Check Caroline’s phone. He made her give up her job.
But when he was at work, he rang her ten times a day to see what she was doing.
Please, check his phone. And his computer.
I bet you he was into porn. His sort always is. ’
‘We will be checking everything, don’t worry.’ Lottie wondered if Sadie was being melodramatic from shock or if there was some truth in her words. ‘Who was there when you left? Eight o’clock, you said?’
‘About that time. I drove us home. Oh God!’
‘What?’
‘Freya wanted Lily to sleep over, but I wouldn’t allow it. Oh my God, if she’d stayed, she’d be dead now.’
‘Were you and your family the last to leave?’
‘Yes. All the other kids were gone by six fifteen. We ate the remains of the pizza. That was it.’
‘Did anything else happen at the party? Besides the make-up incident.’
‘No, it was fine. Cam was in a mood, but he put on a show. And poor Caroline had that put-on smile you use when your heart is breaking inside. You know the one?’
‘I think I do.’
‘Did you talk to Alice? Alice Quigley, Caroline’s mother.’
‘We will,’ Lottie said, filing away the name.
‘God, this is so terrible. What will I tell Lily?’
‘Maybe sit her down and tell her the little we know. And that we’re looking into it. Just be there for her.’ Lottie paused. She pitied Sadie having to tell her daughter the awful news. ‘I have to go now, but here’s my card. If you think of anything else, please call me.’
‘Should I go over there? Sorry, what am I saying? I don’t know what to do.’
‘Go comfort your daughter. She will need you.’
‘Thanks, Inspector. You’re a good woman.’
Alone, Sadie felt in a fugue state. She didn’t know what to think or what to do with herself.
She stood for a long time leaning her back against the inside of the front door, looking up her magnificent staircase towards her daughter’s bedroom, her mind a torrent of horrific thoughts.
How could he? It had happened too soon. It had to be Cameron.
Now the guards would know everything. It would all come out.
The stupid bastard. And she wasn’t without blame herself. It was a glorified mess.
A ball of anguish settled in her stomach as she made her way up the stairs to rouse her daughter.
Perhaps she should have wakened her earlier and brought her to school.
But Lily had been so tired after the party and Sadie had let her sleep.
She’d crept past her door earlier and headed to the kitchen to make herself a cup of strong coffee, now forgotten about.
She stopped outside Lily’s door with its paper warning sign surrounded by pink unicorns, a throwback to the innocent girl who was now fast growing up.
Too fast. The short hair was the start of it, and Sadie wondered how she would cope with the teenage years.
No matter what happened, she vowed to protect her daughter.
She pushed open the door. ‘Lily?’
The curtains blacked out the room. She pressed the light switch and waited for her eyes to adjust. The bed was a jumble of pillows and duvet. The window was slightly open, and a cool autumn breeze filtered through.
‘Lily? Are you in the bathroom?’
She moved to the en suite door, her heart in her mouth. What if something had happened to her daughter, like what had happened to Freya and Caroline? She opened the door. The bathroom was a mess, but it was empty.
Racing out of the bedroom, Sadie flew back down the stairs. She looked everywhere, her heart beating double time, her breath coming in gasps, tears streaming down her face. Her precious daughter. Where was she?
Standing in her kitchen with its stark Miele appliances, the table set for breakfast with colourful Villeroy & Boch crockery, Sadie Clarke hyperventilated, fearing the worst.
Then she remembered. Oh God, the shock had made her forget. She got her breathing under control.
She needed to be clear-headed for what she had to do next.