Evil Games (17 page)

Bryant cast a glance her way. She offered no response.

‘Okay, Brett, thanks for your time.’

Kim nodded in his direction and led the way back out the door.

Once back in the car, Kim’s fingers tapped on the steering wheel.

‘Well, that was a complete waste of time,’ Bryant grumbled.

‘You think?’

‘He gave us nothing.’

‘I disagree, Bryant,’ Kim said thoughtfully. ‘I think we might want to have a closer look at this book club.’

THIRTY-THREE

Barry watched as his wife, daughter and brother left the front garden and entered
his
house through a door frame constructed by
him
beneath a canopy
he
had designed.

He had only meant to look, catch a glimpse of Lisa and Amelia, to get a sign, a clue of their suffering, before making any kind of decision. But, standing here now, he knew that he could not go back. Who the hell did Adam think he was? It was his family, and his brother had no right trying to take them from him. Everything he loved was in that house and he was not prepared to let it go without a fight. He owed Lisa that much. Alex had been right.

Barry knocked on the door, mildly irritated that he was forced to seek permission to enter his own property, but that was about to change.

The door swung open and the face he had dreamt about for four years greeted him in horror.

For just a second, neither spoke.

‘Barry, what are you doing here? You know …’

‘I’ve come home, Lisa,’ he said, brushing past her.

He strode into the living room, leaving Lisa no choice but to close the door and follow him.

In Barry’s mind the house had remained the same and the only difference was Adam in his place, but he now saw that was not the case. The room had less furniture than before. The corner sofa that had taken three years to pay for was gone. A three-seater and a two-seater lined the walls. In front of the TV, in prime position,
his
position, was a big empty space, ready for a wheelchair.

Barry briefly acknowledged that Lisa had needed to make short-term changes to accommodate Adam, but it wasn’t permanent. It could be put back to how it had been before. Soon, he would have a job and would be able to refurnish the house.

The brick fire surround and gas fire had been replaced by an inbuilt electric screen, flush with the wall, displaying a fake flame.

Again, nothing that was irreversible.

‘Who is it, darling?’ Adam called from the kitchen.

As he entered the room, Barry was vaguely aware of the lowered work surfaces and kitchen units but his eyes rested immediately on the tangled mop of blonde curls of his daughter. He caught his breath. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

A dash of fear passed through Adam’s eyes but he placed a protective arm in front of Amelia.

Oh, that hurt. She was her father and she didn’t need protecting from him.

A cold front moved into his brother’s eyes. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to see my family, of course,’ Barry answered, simply. He had no need to be hostile to his brother. Barry was about to take his life back and then Adam would be out in the cold. Adam deserved
his
sympathy.

‘Amelia, go to your room.’

She looked at the bowls and cake mix ready for use on the lowered counter. ‘But Daddy …’

Uncle
, Barry thought but said nothing. It didn’t matter. She would soon know who her father was.

‘Amelia, please,’ Adam asked, gently.

She nodded and headed for the door.

Barry ruffled her soft hair as she passed by. She moved away from his touch. He understood that and didn’t blame his child. She didn’t know him. But she would.

‘You’re not supposed to be here. You know that.’

His wife stood with her arms crossed in front of her.

He moved towards her. ‘Lisa, we have to talk.’

She stepped back. ‘About what?’

‘Us.’

Barry heard the motorised wheelchair as Adam came in from the kitchen. That single sound confirmed that Alex had been right in encouraging him to come. Lisa could not possibly be happy.

He had built this prison for her and now he had to set her free.

‘Barry, there is no us.’

‘Sweetheart, we can try again …’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Lisa snapped.

‘It’s time for you to go,’ Adam offered.

Barry turned to his brother. ‘This has nothing to do with you. It’s between the two of us.’

Adam reached for the phone to the right of the sofa. Barry turned and grabbed it, ripping the lead from the wall.

‘Barry, for fuck’s sake …’

‘Is it too much to ask for a bit of privacy with my own wife?’

‘She’s not your …’

‘We divorced, Barry, remember?’ Lisa said, softly.

Barry turned back to her, phone still in hand. ‘And I understand that you had to do that, Lisa. I know what I did was wrong. I’ve paid the price for it.’

Lisa looked sad, regretful. ‘Not in a million years have you paid the price for what you did to us.’

‘But we can be “us” again. Just give me a chance to show …’

Lisa nodded towards Adam. ‘No, I meant
us
.’

Barry moved towards her and gripped her upper arm. ‘You can’t be imprisoned with him forever to compensate for what I did. You can’t stay with the man out of guilt.’

She winced and then shook off his touch. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘Look at him,’ Barry spat. ‘He’s a fucking cripple and I won’t let you give up your life when you know we should be together.’

‘You fucking bastard,’ Adam raged.

‘Stay out of it, you thieving wanker.’

Lisa stepped out of his reach. The familiar smell of her was overwhelming. She only ever wore Eternity.

His wife stood beside his brother. Her voice was kind, sympathetic. ‘Barry, it’s time to move on. There is no us anymore. You need to make another life for yourself.’

The words were gentle, patient; in a tone usually reserved for persuading children to eat their vegetables.

He met her earnest gaze.

Suddenly, he turned and saw what he’d missed on entry. Photographs. Above the fireplace was a family photo. The angle had been cleverly positioned to disguise the wheelchair but the tuxedo and bouquet jumped out with the clarity of a 3D movie. As did Lisa’s smile. He knew that smile.

He looked again.

Lisa stood beside Adam with her hand on his shoulder. There was no pain, no regret, no bowed head, no apology. Just fact.

Adam’s hand found Lisa’s and squeezed. A show of togetherness, unity. Lisa’s other hand, the one with the gold band, rested on her stomach, protectively.

At that moment, Barry’s world ended. All the hope Alex had given him died in his soul. His body felt like a shell, devoid of bone, muscle or organs. There was nothing.

Alex had been wrong.

He looked at the two of them, side by side. His brother, who had everything that had once belonged to him: his house, his wife, his daughter. His crippled brother had taken his entire life away from him. Erased him. Barry could imagine them lying in bed night, laughing at the feelings he still had for his ex-wife.

The familiar red mist cloaked his mind and he welcomed it back like an old friend. He had perfected techniques over the years to keep it away, or at best to control it. Right now, he embraced it.

Everything outside of these four walls dissolved into a vacuum. Right here, right now, was all there was. The holocaust had arrived and there was nothing else left.

Barry moved towards them slowly, offered his hand to Adam.

Barry saw the tension leave the upper body of his brother. Adam knew it was over. Barry knew it too.

Adam raised his hand to accept the handshake.

With one fluid movement borne out of having a ruthless trainer in the boxing ring, Barry’s right hand pulled Adam from the chair and loosed him onto the ground. A well-placed kick to the temple rendered him unconscious.

‘You fucking bastard,’ Barry spat.

Lisa managed one quick gasp before Barry’s left hand grabbed her throat, silencing her. ‘And you are a deceitful bitch.’

He pushed her against the wall and gazed into her eyes. Like a drowning man, their whole life together played out in his mind.

Her eyes showed fear and hatred. Good.

His wife’s terror fed the rage that filled every cell of his body. Every nerve ending in his fingers demanded satisfaction. They must both suffer what he had been made to endure.

His hands encircled flesh that he had caressed, kissed, bitten.

He spat in her face. ‘You cheating, disgusting whore. You did this to me.’

He squeezed the soft skin, compressing the airway that gave her and her unborn baby life.

Her arms flailed as her lungs screamed out for air. Desperate.

He squeezed harder, his eyes burning into hers.

‘B … arry …’

The sound of his name on her breath aimed straight for his heart. It was a sigh he remembered, but not like this.

The tears sprang to his eyes, blurring her already distorted features. His left hand released her throat as his right fist thundered against her temple.

‘Fuck you, bitch …’

Damn it, he still loved her.

She coughed and spluttered, her hand clasped to her neck. ‘Ame— ’

Even then Barry would have forgiven her anything; accepted her mistakes, until he saw her direction of travel.

Her nails dug into the carpet pile as she struggled to reach the inert form of her crippled, unconscious husband.

‘You’ll never see our child again,’ he said, kicking the back of her head.

Barry closed the lounge door behind him and shouted up the stairs. ‘It’s okay, Amelia. You can come down now. Come on, come down to Daddy.’

THIRTY-FOUR

The flat was situated on a snatch of land on the periphery of the Merry Hill shopping complex. The third-storey property was blessed with views of the entrance to the Food Court to the west and the busy Pedmore Road dual carriageway to the east.

Kim couldn’t help her curiosity at the marketing strategy.

‘Better than some blocks we’ve been in, eh?’ Bryant said.

Anything without daubed obscenities and the smell of urine was a step up from most blocks of flats they visited.

Bryant knocked on the door and waited.

Kim heard the clatter of something hitting a wall and a curse.

A chain was pulled across and the door was opened by a man she barely recognised.

Chris Jenks was dressed in sludge-coloured tracksuit bottoms. A university t-shirt was stained to the right of the logo. His growing stubble was dark and dense.

His face registered surprise at their presence.

Bryant leaned forward. ‘May we …’

‘Of course … of course …’ Jenks said, stepping back and opening the door wide.

Kim stepped into a narrow hallway where two people couldn’t pass without touching. The absence of a window was not helped by the dim light of an energy saving bulb. Two closed doors isolated the small space entirely.

Kim stepped carefully around the toys that appeared to be out of proportion with the size of the property. She headed towards a brightly lit room at the end of the tunnel which she guessed was the lounge.

‘Please … sit down …’ Jenks said, moving two colouring books and a box of felt pens.

Kim took the seat that had been cleared. Bryant took the other end of the sofa but shifted uncomfortably before removing a remote control from somewhere beneath him.

Jenks took the remote and remained standing.

‘Can I get you anything … coffee … tea …?’

Kim shook her head.

‘Is this about the hearing?’ he asked, wringing his hands.

‘No, there’s something else,’ Bryant said.

They would have no involvement with the disciplinary hearing. Both Jenks and Whiley had been suspended pending a formal investigation and that was being handled by their superiors.

‘You visited the home of Leonard Dunn for a domestic abuse complaint?’ Bryant asked.

Jenks sat in the single chair but remained on the edge. He nodded, still holding the remote control.

‘Yeah, just a couple of months ago. Why?’

Kim was happy to let Bryant lead. She glanced around the room.

It was a home that had been taken by surprise by the arrival of children. The pebble detail fire was now obscured by a mesh guard. Floor vases that probably used to adorn the fire display now looked cumbersome on a recessed bookshelf. A collection of books and music discs were now interspersed with Calpol bottles, a nappy bag pack and two rattles.

‘There was someone else involved in the abuse of the Dunn girls.’

Jenks’s mouth fell open as he looked from Bryant to her and back again.

Bryant continued. ‘We don’t know the extent of the involvement yet, but we do know that another person was present during the filming of the abuse.’

Jenks ran a hand through his hair and rubbed at his forehead. ‘Shit.’

‘We need to know if there’s anything you picked up that night, anything at all that might help us find out who was there.’

Jenks’s eyes fell to the floor and he started to shake his head. ‘There’s nothing. I mean, it was just routine … it was …’

‘Tell us about the incident,’ Kim suggested.

He nodded. ‘We got the call about seven thirty-ish, complaint from a neighbour concerned about the noise. When we got there we could hear Dunn shouting from the gate. We knocked …’

‘What was he shouting about?’ Kim asked.

Jenks thought. ‘Couldn’t make it out from the gate but I think it was something about a school teacher.’

Kim nodded and motioned for him to continue. It must have been the teacher’s first attempt at speaking to the parents about Daisy’s behaviour. From Kim’s recollection the woman had tried on three separate occasions before making the call. The resulting investigation had been carried out with the assistance of Social Services but had still taken almost two months until an arrest could be made.

‘Dunn let us in. You could see he was still raging. Mrs Dunn was on the phone at the time.’