A bookcase lined the wall opposite him, the shelves taken up by photo albums that he hadn’t opened in years, books he had no intention of reading ever again, and framed photographs that pinched at his heart if he dared to look at them too closely.
He groaned and leaned forward, clutching the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.
A persistent dragging sound filled his ears, and had done for the past week, as if his memories were trying to pull him downwards with them.
‘No,’ he groaned, and closed his eyes.
He’d been so careful.
He exhaled, then straightened and squared his shoulders. He’d been tested before, and his faith had triumphed.
He’d acted on the information to hand, his actions justified and true in the eyes of his god, as far as he was concerned.
He slumped into the cracked leather chair behind his desk, waited until his heart rate had calmed, and then pulled a mobile phone from his pocket. He dialled a number from memory and fought down the panic.
The call was answered on the third ring.
‘What do you want?’
Duncan cleared his throat. ‘The police were here.’
‘Do they suspect anything about us?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’ Duncan dabbed at his brow once more. ‘She was asking questions about Sophie.’
‘She?’
‘Detective Sergeant Kay Hunter.’
‘Interesting.’
Duncan held his breath while the silence dragged out, until he could bear it no more. ‘What should I do?’
‘Nothing,’ came the reply. ‘Carry on as normal. Don’t draw attention to yourself. It’ll be fine.’
‘Okay.’
The line went dead, and Duncan erased the call log before tossing the phone onto the desk.
He swallowed, and checked his watch.
Carry on as normal.
‘Jesus,’ he swore, then quickly raised his eyes to the ceiling and apologised.
Sweeping up the phone and a set of car keys from his desk, he locked the vestry door and hurried outside.
A warm breeze brushed his face as he exited the porch, the morning rain shower lending a renewed freshness to the day, before a whirling dervish of leaves spun across the car park and chased at his ankles as he hurried to his vehicle. He peered over his shoulder as he pointed the key fob at the door.
He’d invested too much of his life into the church, but now it seemed he was losing control.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Thirteen
When Kay and Carys entered the main sitting room, the family liaison officer was sitting on a sofa opposite Sophie’s father, an earnest expression on her face while she spoke to him in muted tones.
A surprised expression crossed Matthew’s face on seeing Kay, before he recovered. ‘Have you charged him yet?’
‘We’re still interviewing Peter Evans, and waiting for some of the forensic results,’ said Kay. She gestured to the sofa. ‘May we join you?’
He nodded, and slid across the cushions to make room.
Kay waited until Carys had settled and pulled out her notebook. ‘I wanted to ask you a bit more about the “purity pledge” that Sophie took. I understand about her side of the pledge, but I didn’t know that you also made a commitment. What did that entail?’
Matthew cleared his throat. ‘It’s something all fathers do as part of the “purity pledge”. We undertake to protect our daughter’s chastity, and provide spiritual guidance if required.’
‘How long have you and Diane attended the private church gatherings?’
The man’s eyes drifted to the patio windows. Beyond, Kay could see his wife talking to what appeared to be a gardener. The man had to be in his seventies at least, his features crinkled by years spent outdoors, and his pose relaxed as he leaned on a garden fork and listened to Diane.
She wore a wide brimmed hat and held secateurs in her hand, her free hand gesturing towards the flowerbed before them. She turned from the gardener and proceeded to snip away at a nearby rosebush while he returned to digging. After a moment, she stopped what she was doing and stood with her hands on her hips, watching him.
Kay bit back a smile. It appeared that Lady Griffith preferred to do “at” gardening, rather than actively participate. She cleared her throat, and Matthew turned back to face her.
‘Sorry, what was the question?’
‘I was asking about the private church gatherings. How long have you been going to those?’
‘About eighteen months.’
‘I understand from Duncan Saddleworth that there was quite a lot of preparation for Sophie leading up to taking her purity pledge. Was it the same for you?’
‘I suppose. I had a couple of meetings with Duncan when Sophie first spoke about it.’ His gaze dropped to his hands in his lap. ‘To be honest, Diane was more interested in the whole thing than me. Obviously, I’d have supported Sophie in whatever decision she made, which is why I made an effort to read all the pamphlets Duncan gave us. Diane was determined that the whole ceremony would go off without a hitch – whether that was for Sophie’s benefit, or her own, you’ll have to ask her.’
Kay noticed the note of bitterness in his voice, but pressed on.
‘How did you meet your wife?’
‘It was when I was working in London. I’d started up my first software business and it was doing really well – money wasn’t a problem, and so I was socialising every night, going out to parties and attending all sorts of events. Diane was doing some modelling work here and there. Tame stuff – nothing dodgy. Things like those magazine “true stories posed by models” – that sort of thing. I don’t know how she managed to persuade her parents to let her do it, but she even enrolled in a part-time acting course at one of the theatres for a time. Said it made her look more realistic in front of the cameras.’
Kay resisted the urge to roll her eyes. ‘How seriously did
