‘It can’t be,’ Ralph said. He looked over at Caroline, could see the horror on her face, the bewilderment, as if it were a movie, not real life.
‘I loved Gilbert as much as I loved Dorothy. Dorothy told me if she wasn’t around, that I was to be with Gilbert, but we never had an affair, although Ralph thought we might have had when he was younger. But then he was young and pubescent. His mind was not in his head but somewhere else. Ralph, do you remember me looking the other way when you brought a young girl home with you, telling you to be careful?’
‘But how? If you’re my mother, can it be proven?’
‘It has been,’ Isaac said. ‘We’ve taken a blood sample from you, saliva from Miss Dempster, and we already had Gilbert Lawrence’s DNA. There is no doubt that you are the son of Gilbert Lawrence and Molly Dempster.’
‘Don’t you see? I did it out of love.’
‘But how?’ Caroline said.
‘It was a natural conception. I only slept with your father to become pregnant. Apart from that, we never slept together before or after. If Dorothy hadn’t been there, then maybe, but my act of love, our lovemaking, was for the purest intent. Surely you must understand. You and Ralph are brother and sister, and Gilbert is the father of both of you. It was Dorothy who was Ralph’s mother.’
Caroline went over and placed her arms around Molly, tears streaming down her face. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
Ralph did not move. ‘It makes sense now, doesn’t it? I always sensed something, I never knew what.’ He then raised himself from his chair and went and hugged his mother. Wendy was in tears, Isaac wasn’t sure what to feel, Larry was mute, and Desmond Dickson sat in his chair, shaking his head.
‘I’m sorry,’ Isaac said when everyone had calmed down. ‘To solve the murder of Gilbert Lawrence, we need openness. The secret you’ve just heard had to be told, either now or later. Emotions are frayed, and no doubt you will need to discuss what has been said here tonight. It still doesn’t bring us any closer to solving the crime, though.’
‘I’m not sure what to think,’ Ralph said. ‘On the one hand, I’m pleased to know the truth, on the other I’m confused. Molly, or should it be Mother, has always been special to all of us, but what she has said brings in another dimension.’
‘Your mother’s a target if this gets out,’ Caroline said.
‘Very well, I will give DCI Cook a full and open statement as to who and what Gary Frost is. The police, in turn, must ensure the safety of my mother and Caroline and her family, also Michael and Yolanda.’
‘We will,’ Isaac said, although he knew they were dealing with a man who gave little credence to the police and the law.
Chapter 25
Bridget Halloran, an inveterate computer junkie, was pleased with herself. She loved nothing better than surfing the internet, both in her spare time, although there wasn’t much of that at present, and at work in Homicide, diving deep into police databases, or scouring for information about places and people and procedures. Now she had hit the jackpot.
‘It’s your show,’ Isaac said in his office. It was late afternoon. Larry had been hoping for an early night; there was a school play, his eldest had two lines to say, and his wife was adamant that he had to be there to show support for the family.
‘I’ve passed on the information to Larry’s contact out at Greenwich,’ Bridget said. It was not usual for her to be so excited.
‘Belgium?’ Larry said, the primary area of interest for Inspector Emily Matson at the police station in Greenwich, as well as his. If Frost could be linked to an actual crime, something that could be proved with a chance of a conviction, then so much the better.
Ralph Lawrence had given a full account of Gary Frost, his two henchmen, and how he had been trussed up like a Christmas turkey while Caxton and O’Grady had worked him over. Also, how the money was sent to his account overseas, the interest payments, what would happen if payment was not received on time or if he tried to cheat. He had recounted how Frost had bragged that the police were irritants, no more annoying than a mosquito of a summer’s night, and how he had contacts in the right places.
Emily Matson had taken exception to Frost’s assertions, seeing that her station was the closest to where the man lived, and any official police enquiry would focus on Greenwich Police Station, and then fan out from there. Two years previously, an inspector by the name of Fredericks had been charged after he had been exposed for taking backhanders from a local drug dealer. He had been Inspector Matson’s boss at the time; she had been a sergeant on the rapid promotion ladder: young, female, university degree. She was seen as indicative of the future of a modern, educated, and professional police service, and association by default had impacted on her.
She had suspected him at the time, although she had failed to report it: no proof. Larry understood where she was coming from when she told him the story. It was one thing to inform on a dishonest police officer, it was another to prove it, and for several months she would have been ostracised by some of the others in the station. A word in the ear of the offender, a talk with his colleagues was seen as better, but even that had its risks. Another policeman in the station had taken that course of action. A trio of thugs on his way home, and two weeks in the hospital for him, and then he had left the service, taken a job
