If the question surprised him, Colin didn’t show it. “Good for business. Martin Ingram’s a bit more upmarket than Colin Wardle.”
Tom had positioned himself between Colin and the door. “I understand your mother moved away from Little Gosling about the time Lucy’s father died. Are you still in touch with her?”
Colin took a long pull on his cigarette and stubbed it out on the porcelain sink. “She and I went our separate ways.”
“So she isn’t living in the area?”
“No, she isn’t.” He blew a ribbon of smoke toward the ceiling.
“What’s this about your mother, Colin?” Lucy asked.
“Nothing important.” He was getting rattled.
So was I. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a … knife.
Oh man. Ertha’s wide-bladed chopping knife lay on the counter.
I looked at Tom. His eyes gave nothing away, but he’d moved closer to Colin, allowing us a way of escape.
If Lucy would take it.
“You’ve been here before, right?” Tom asked Colin.
“No—first time.”
“That’s odd because the neighbors told police they’d seen an Oakley’s van at the house.”
That wasn’t true—no one had mentioned Oakley’s—but I wasn’t about to contradict him.
“Hoping to handle the Villiers’ estate, perhaps?” Tom smiled.
I put pressure on Lucy’s arm and whispered. “This really isn’t safe. Let’s get out of here.”
I didn’t see it coming.
Colin sprang forward and ripped Lucy out of my grasp.
He held the knife at Lucy’s throat.
“Nobody’s going anywhere.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“Well, that’s not brilliant, Colin.” Tom sounded almost chummy.
“Stay back.” Colin’s left arm was wrapped firmly around Lucy’s waist. With his right elbow, he’d pinned her shoulder against his chest.
The knife was huge—eight inches at least, with a blade that still looked sharp. I could see an indentation in Lucy’s neck. She was whimpering.
All he had to do was flick his wrist, and Lucy would be gone.
Her eyes were huge. Her breath came in shallow pants.
“It’s going to be okay, Lucy,” I said with no justification. It’s what moms say.
“Stay back,” Colin growled.
I held up my hands, picturing Colin’s mother staggering onto the stage at the May Fair.
“Let’s all calm down, shall we?” Tom actually smiled. “Why don’t you tell us what all this is about, Colin.”
Colin tightened his grip on Lucy’s waist, but he lowered the blade.
Lucy gulped for breath. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand.” She tried to twist around to look at him, but he jerked her back.
“Shut up while I think.”
“Good idea,” Tom said. “Let’s think this through before someone gets hurt.” He took a small step toward Colin and Lucy.
“Stay where you are,” Colin raised the knife again. He’d taken a step backward, pulling Lucy toward the table and the bay window.
They say, in a crisis, the first thing to leave is your hearing. It wasn’t working for me. The house was making weird sounds.
“We know about your mother,” Tom said. “She lived here for eighteen years, didn’t she? What I’d like to know is what you did with Evelyn Villiers.”
“What?” Lucy was frantic, holding her chin up and trying to pull back from the knife. “Colin—what’s he talking about?”
“Shut up.”
“Col-in,” she moaned. “You said—”
He lowered his knife hand and smacked her in the jaw. “I need to think.”
Lucy screamed, then started to cry.
The house shuddered. There was a sharp crack as somewhere above us wood splintered.
Lucy screamed again. “What’s that?” She was wriggling in his grasp. “Let me go, Colin. Please. Please.”
Colin ignored her. His mouth hardened. “Show me your mobiles.”
“Mine’s there,” I said, pointing at my handbag on the counter.
Tom pulled his mobile out of his pocket and held it up.
“Put it on the floor. Kick it away from you.”
Tom did.
Colin raised the knife to Lucy’s throat again. “All right—this is how it’s going to be. My van’s parked in the bushes on the other side of the house.” He nodded at me. “You’re going to drive it around here and leave it running. The keys are there, on the counter. Don’t even think about getting away or she’s dead.”
Tom gave me a nod. Do what he says.
I left at once. The ground was so wet my feet sank into the gravel. Keeping my balance was tricky. Plus I was shaking.
The van was parked, as Colin said, in the bushes on the west side of the house. I got in, started the engine, and backed up slowly.
Crap. Where’s the switch for the headlights?
I had no idea—and no time to consult the owner’s manual. Putting Colin’s van in drive, I squinted into the darkness as I drove across the front of the house, past Tom’s Volvo, and over the soggy grass toward the side door.
Please, don’t let me get stuck.
Thoughts crowded together in my mind. Was Tom counting on me to do something, like radio the police? If he had a police radio in his car, I hadn’t seen it. And who knew what Colin might do if I delayed long enough to find out? The look on Lucy’s face was enough to convince me the best course was to do exactly what Colin said. And pray.
I got out and went back inside. “The van’s running.”
“Now open the back and bring in the boxes and packing materials. Start packing up this lot—as much as will fit.”
“Then what, Colin?” Tom’s voice had a dangerous edge. “You know I can’t let you take Lucy.”
“No problem, mate. I don’t want her.” Colin laughed. “I’ll drop her off somewhere—safe and sound.”
Lucy was weeping. “Why, Colin? You said we could be together now.”
“Silly cow.” Colin sounded almost tender. “I would have had to tell you sometime. Even if I did love you, we could never marry. Your father made sure of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean, my dear girl, is that you and I are brother and sister—half, anyway. My mother and your father had a child—me.”
“My God—you knew all along?” Lucy was pale, breathing hard. “You knew when we—”
“Of course not. He told me the night he died.”
“Did my mother know?”
“I told her at the inquest—or tried to.”
“So that’s why you never
