‘On the television,’ he said. ‘I can check the listings, to see if there were any police shows on last night. Can you remember the name?’
Emily folded her arms. ‘Like Ted said, a police drama. I forget what it was called.’
Sheldon nodded an acknowledgement that he wasn’t going to get any more information, and then he went into the garden as Tracey went to the garage.
The lawn was long and neat, with plenty of colour, as if it was tended regularly. He was looking for evidence of recent bonfires or digging, but couldn’t see anything. He walked over to the dustbins and lifted the lids, but there was nothing suspicious.
As he walked back to the house, Tracey joined Sheldon as she came in from the garage. She shook her head. Nothing.
They went back into the house, Emily leaning against the kitchen worktop, glowering as they came in. Sheldon ignored her and went towards the stairs. They were lined by pictures of Alice, so that going to bed must be like walking through a memorial; Alice as a young girl, pigtails and thick glasses, and then as a teenager coming to bloom, her school skirt too short, her jumper too long. There were no pictures of Jake, Alice’s brother.
There were three bedrooms upstairs. The door to one of the bedrooms was open and so they went there first. The double bed confirmed that it was Ted and Emily’s bedroom. There were more pictures of Alice in there, on the wall and in small frames on the shelves. Sheldon opened a wardrobe and had a look around, but there wasn’t anything suspicious. He was looking for wet shoes, or anything with blood on them. Perhaps some clothes or shoes in a bag, waiting for disposal. Nothing.
They backed out and went to the door next to the bedroom. There was a low voice coming from the other side, and so Sheldon knocked and then opened it slowly. It was Jake, in front of a computer screen, with a microphone and headset wrapped around his head, playing some kind of online game. He looked round but then went back to his game.
‘Do you mind if we look?’ Sheldon said.
Jake shrugged.
His bedroom was small, with just enough space for his single bed and a desk, with a small wardrobe next to it. Tracey got down to the floor to check under the bed and Sheldon looked in the wardrobe.
When Sheldon thanked Jake, he got no response, although he heard Jake’s voice start up again as soon as the door closed. He nodded towards the remaining bedroom door. ‘That will be Alice’s room.’
Tracey looked at the door and then back to Sheldon. ‘You seem reluctant, sir.’
Sheldon looked back to Jake’s room. ‘Did you notice how he is still crammed into the smallest bedroom, and how the house is all about Alice?’ he said. ‘Their lives are all about Alice. Her room will be like a shrine.’
‘It might hold a vital clue.’
Sheldon shook his head. ‘I don’t think they would soil it like that, and I don’t want to intrude any more than we have to for the time being.’
Tracey thought for a moment and then said, ‘We won’t find anything anyway, and that’s why they’re letting us search, because they know that.’
‘Perhaps because they’re innocent.’
‘Do you think they are?’
Sheldon thought about that, and then said, ‘I’m not sure. Removing Billy’s face was vicious, and I think Ted would just kill him and dump him. That hotel scene was meant to attract attention, and Ted wouldn’t want that.’
‘Double bluff?’ Tracey said.
Sheldon allowed himself a smile. ‘We could go on counting bluffs all day, but we’ve found nothing, and I don’t think we should bring him in. Not yet, anyway.’
They went downstairs and back into the living room. Sheldon was about to say thank you and goodbye when he noticed that Ted was gripping the chair arms, his knuckles white, his eyes glazed with rage.
‘What’s wrong?’
Ted looked up and pointed at the television. ‘Even in death it never ends.’ When Sheldon looked confused, Ted pressed the rewind button on the remote and watched as the footage moved backwards. When he pressed the play button, a face that Sheldon recognised came onto the screen. Amelia Diaz, Billy’s lawyer. It looked like she had spoken to the press outside her office.
‘A lot of people held a lot of opinions about Billy Privett,’ Amelia said, ‘and they were mostly to do with Alice Kenyon, a poor young woman who died in tragic circumstances. Before the press decide that they can print what they like, I just want everybody to remember one thing about Billy Privett; that nothing was ever proven against him. He was an innocent man in life, and he is still an innocent man in death. Thank you.’
And then she gave a brief smile and turned to walk into her office.
Ted clicked off the television. ‘Now do you see why it couldn’t be me?’ he said, a tear now running down his cheek. ‘I wanted to change things about Billy Privett. Now it will always stay the same.’
Sheldon wanted to say how he prayed that it wouldn’t be Ted who had done it, that he had suffered enough. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded that he understood and thanked him for his patience. He placed a business card next to Ted’s hand and then turned to leave. As he closed the front door behind him, he saw Emily in the kitchen at the end of the hall. She was staring at him, her arms folded. She was still staring as the door clicked shut.
John was outside the farmhouse, at the old man’s window, nailing a wire grille to the frame, as Arni ordered. The breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees opposite and brought a glow to his cheeks. Dawn appeared in the doorway next to him, her arms folded across her chest.
She stayed silent for a few moments, before saying, ‘That won’t stop them.’
‘What, the grilles?’
‘They should be on the inside of the window, because if someone does come, they’ll just rip them off.’
‘Who are
Dawn shrugged. ‘Whoever Arni is trying to protect us from.’
‘But who do you think they are? And why now?’
‘Things have changed,’ Dawn said, and then she shook her head. ‘We weren’t about all this at first.’
John was wary. This could be a test. Henry had once said that he should trust no one.
‘Isn’t it more important to be about where we are now, rather than where we once were?’ he said.
‘Don’t give me that,’ she said, her eyes narrowing. ‘You don’t believe in what’s going on here. Not truly, deep down, in here,’ and she banged her chest with her hand.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You watch them too much, as if you are working out the right thing to say, not what you truly believe. What is it, just some fun?’
He shook his head. ‘You’re wrong. I believe in Henry’s message. And what do you mean by
Dawn looked at John, her lips pursed, wariness in her eyes. ‘I don’t mean anything.’ She pointed towards the window that now had a metal grille hammered into its frame. ‘The old man. Is he awake?’
John put his face against the grille and saw the old man turn his head towards him. His breaths looked shallow, and there was pleading in his eyes. He had no hair, apart from the wisps around his ears. His scalp seemed almost translucent, the veins visible through the tired pallor of his skin, his cheekbones just sharp edges.
John nodded. ‘How long has he been like this?’
‘He was always frail, that’s why he let us stay here, so that we could help him with the farm, and shop for him. He told us he had no family. We’re not helping him anymore though.’
‘How many were there of you, when you first came here?’
‘About ten of us, plus Henry.’ Tears popped into her eyes. ‘Some have left, some more have come. When we came here, it was an escape, that’s all.’
‘From what?’
‘From what we were doing. We were travelling round, going to all the demos. It was fun, but sometimes
