Danielle nods, tears still spilling down her cheeks.
“I tried everything, though,” Ritchie shakes his head, “even threatening that wee reporter bastard in there now.”
“You did what?”
“He was bringing the case back into the press. I just sent him a few messages about his sister. To try and put him off the scent… I don’t know why I thought it would work. I was stupid… I…” his own eyes begin to fill with tears now, “oh my God. Can you imagine if someone did something like that to me? Targeting either of you two?” he motions his head towards his siblings. “I’m a monster. I killed my father, and… And I haven’t been the same since. Maybe I do belong behind bars,” he winces, shaking his head. “Whenever he came to talk to us and you were all going on about how amazing Da was… I just couldn’t hack it… No one knew the real him.”
They all continue to stand in silence for several more moments, the odd chirping of a bird the only thing breaking the barrier.
“I know now… Looking back… After hearing about how the Jacks were threatening us… It was to protect me. He didn’t want me to come to any harm… That’s why he had me on the ground, scared in case it was one of them, coming to hurt us… And that’s why he wouldn’t tell me where he was… He just wanted me to be safe.”
Danielle looks over to her brother, who is crying freely now. What the hell is she going to do? She can’t tear this family apart any more than it already has been…
“This family has been through enough,” Danielle states, more to herself than to the others, still not able to bring herself to look at any of them, “we don’t need you in prison to make matters worse…”
“So, you… You’re not going to tell anyone?” Ritchie narrows his eyes at her as Chris looks up expectantly.
“No… It seems the police are getting somewhere with the Jacks… We’ll see how it plays out. But!” she snarls, holding up a hand to stop him coming towards her, arms outstretched, “this in no way condones what you’ve done. What either of you have done,” she points towards Chris, who nods.
She glares at her sister, not knowing what to say, but Michelle looks down guiltily. It seems she doesn’t even have to say anything to her. The burden she’s had to bear the past few years… She can’t imagine it. Turning back to her brother, she tries to be somewhat sympathetic, despite her blood boiling.
“What happened between you and Da… It was awful, but there were means and ways… I won’t be telling anyone; I don’t want to upset Ma any further… But I think what you’re doing… Staying away from this family… It’s a good thing. I’d continue as normal. After the funeral, of course.”
“But, D… I have nothing to go back to.”
“That’s not my problem. I’ll be getting the first flight back to uni this week and I’ll be forgetting that any of this happened.”
“It’s easier said than done,” Chris shakes his head, crossing over to her, “we all know now. All four of us. We should stick together. Form a bubble of some-“
“No!” Danielle spits, “this is the way it has to be. We sweep it under the carpet. It’s never talked about again, you hear me?”
The group stare at each other, the unspoken agreement forming between them. When the other three have nodded, Danielle gives a curt one in reply, before turning and marching towards the house. As she rounds the conservatory, she almost walks into Dermott standing at the back door, fag in hand. Her face drops and she feels her face redden. How long has he been there? How much has he heard? They never heard the back door go. How loud were they talking? What is he going to do? But she’s confused to see him smiling at her, before stepping back to let her through the back door, raising the cigarette to his lips once the smoke he’d recently blown out obstructs him from view.
Chapter Eighty-Five:
“I did it.”
McNally and Ferguson sit at one end of the table, staring into his face. Looking for signs of insincerity. Signs of weakness. Chinks in the chain. But everything that he said has added up.
“So, why now?” Ferguson sits forward once more, interlocking his fingers, “why have you suddenly changed your story?”
“I’m tired of running,” he looks the detective in the eye, his body shaking slightly, his foot incessantly tapping on the ground, “I don’t want to waste government time and money only to be banged up in a few weeks or months when it all comes back to me. I don’t want to live in fear, also,” Victor Sargent sighs. “Throwing Taylor to the wolves… I just want to own up to my own crime and hopefully the Jacks will leave me alone. Too little too late, probably, but as long as I can live without constantly checking over my shoulder… I’m happy with that.”
“And why Parker? What significance did he have?”
Sargent shrugs.
“He disrespected me. He disrespected us all. Including Taylor… I just saw
