Chapter 6 #2
“For as long as it takes. Could be years.” Oliver placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Trust me. You do not want to be anywhere near here. As I said, they’ll do anything to shut this down. No need for a trial if the defendant is dead.”
Henry thought he was going to retch on the spot. How is this happening?
Oliver handed Henry a card with the address of a private postal box. “When you settle somewhere, let me know. I’ll keep you up-to-date.”
“What about Kathleen and Emily? I can’t just walk out on them,” Henry said in a loud whisper.
“You’ll be protecting them. Henry, you have to trust me on this. Powerful people do not want their power taken away from them and they will stop at nothing to keep it.”
Henry slumped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. “Promise you’ll keep an eye on them for me?”
“As if they’re my own. I promise,” Oliver said with as much reassurance as he could muster. “Here. Take this.” Oliver handed Henry an envelope. Inside was an identification card with the name Kenneth Barlow. There was also a thousand quid.
“Who is Kenneth Barlow?” Henry said as he read the information.
“Kenneth Barlow was a homeless person who was found dead near the riverbed. According to records, he had no family and was living on scraps and cheap swill. Evidently, he was drunk one night and fell face down into the mud. No foul play was suspected.” Oliver paused.
Henry looked at the bills, and as if Oliver read his mind he said, “You can repay me when this gets sorted. It has to at some point.”
Henry sighed and shook his head from side to side. “This is a bloody nightmare.”
Oliver’s heart broke for all of them. Such fine people. They didn’t deserve any of this.
Henry didn’t want to leave his wife and daughter behind, but he knew their lives would be in danger if he stayed. He thanked Oliver and promised he would repay him … for everything.
Kathleen woke up to find Henry’s side of the bed was empty.
He usually didn’t get up this early on a Sunday.
It was his morning to sleep in. She knew the ordeal with the police had shaken him and she thought perhaps he could not sleep.
She put on her robe and slippers and headed toward the kitchen.
She stopped abruptly when she saw the note on the table:
I love you both. This is for everyone’s good.
Kathleen steadied herself against the kitchen sink. She read the note again and became hysterical. Emily raced down the stairs when she heard her mother’s shrieks and sobs. Kathleen slid down to the floor as Emily rushed to her side and held her.
“Mum! Mum! What is it? What is it?”
Kathleen could not stop heaving long enough to speak. “Your … fa … th … er …”
“Pop? What’s happened to Pop?” Emily unclenched her mother’s fist that held the crumpled note. Emily unraveled it and read it out loud.
“‘I love you both. This is for everyone’s good.’ What does this mean? Does this have anything to do with that bar fight? Do you think someone is after him?”
Kathleen finally stopped sobbing and went quiet.
Dozens of thoughts ran through her head.
What should she tell their daughter? It had to be the truth.
She couldn’t carry this alone, and Emily deserved to know that her father was innocent before any rumors started.
She somehow found the words and watched her daughter’s face turn from confusion to disbelief to horror.
“Pop didn’t do anything wrong. He wouldn’t! He couldn’t!” Emily wailed.
“I know that as sure as I know anything. But he was found at the scene with blood on his hands and his fingerprints all over the gun.”
“But he’s innocent! The police would have to believe that! And why would he leave?” Emily was frantic.
Kathleen had no answers. There had to be a logical explanation for Henry’s disappearance, but she couldn’t come up with one. Until the next day, when there was a knock on the door.
Kathleen peered through the living room curtains. Three constables and DCI Oliver Townsend were standing outside. Two police wagons waited at the curb. She carefully cracked the door open. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“Mrs. Kathleen Evans?” DCI Townsend asked.
“Yes.” She squinted. Why was Oliver addressing her with her formal name?
“We’re here for Henry Evans.” Oliver paused and looked at the other officers. “May we come in?”
Kathleen stepped back and swung the door open. “Yes. By all means.” She gestured for them to enter the living room. Oliver and two of the other men passed through the entry while another stood at the doorway.
“Please take a seat,” Kathleen offered. “Should I put the kettle on?”
“Thank you, but no,” Oliver said. He was still standing. “May we speak to Henry?” Oliver asked and hoped the answer would be no.
“I’m afraid he’s not home.” Kathleen certainly wasn’t lying.
“Ya mind if we take a look-see?” one of the constables asked politely.
“Not at all. Let me tell our daughter, Emily, that you will be milling about.” Kathleen excused herself and made her way up the stairs to Emily’s room.
Emily had her headphones on and was listening to music. She wrenched them off her head. “What is it?” She could tell by the expression on her mother’s face that another bomb had dropped.
“The police are here. They want to arrest your father.” Kathleen bit her lip. She felt relieved for the first time in forty-eight hours. At least Henry wasn’t here to be taken away. Exactly where he was, she didn’t, and may never, know.
Emily sat up straight. “What?”
“Listen, love, I am not sure what this is all about. Uncle Oliver is here in an official role, so please keep your head.”
“Mum! What do you mean?” Emily’s mind was spinning.
“Let them do whatever they need to do. Your father took only one shirt, one pair of trousers, underwear, and socks. There is nothing that would indicate he ran off. I am going to tell them he must have gone for his usual walk before leaving for work.” She looked around the room.
An organized mess, as usual. Perfect. Normal.
“Don’t say anything except ‘good morning’ and do not answer any questions without me in the room.
That is the law in case they try to pull something crafty. ”
“Fair enough,” Emily said with her chin up.
Kathleen patted Emily’s thigh. “We’ll get this sorted.
” As she approached the top of the stairs she called down to the waiting police.
“Gentlemen, you can have a go at it. Don’t mind Emily.
She is a teenager.” Kathleen’s dash of wry humor helped to lift the mood.
She had nothing to hide. Almost nothing.
Oliver instructed the two officers to do a clean sweep of the second floor. “Closets, pantry, whatever has a door on it.” Oliver feigned being a concerned man of the law.