Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(61)

Kensa squinted up at Lauren through the smoke. ‘Sorry for scaring you this morning.’ She reached over and picked up a few sticks from a pile, snapping them into shorter lengths.

‘I’ve been told about your friendship with Toby,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m so sorry for anything bad that happened to you.’

‘That night was all a big secret until Mr Forbes-Wright took his own life. Funny that.’

Lauren shook her head. ‘I never knew him, but he seems to have been important to this place.’

‘What happened to me wasn’t the worst of it. Has he ever been nasty with you?’ Kensa looked up at Lauren as she fed the sticks into the embers.

‘Toby?’

‘Yes.’

‘No. He’s a very gentle, sensitive man, very shy.’

Kensa smiled as she reached across for a log for the fire.

‘That’s him. I thought he was gorgeous.’ She looked up at Lauren and smiled. ‘He had such a sweet way about him.’ She pulled her blanket tightly around herself as she sniffed and wiped her nose with the edge of it.

‘It was never proved, never investigated, was it, Kensa?’ Willis said.

‘Nope. Didn’t need to, Sheriff said, facts speak for themselves.’ She looked up at them both. Shook her head. A sadness had come over her. It deadened her face. Aged her. ‘They said it was an absolute certainty that he had done it to me; they said they had proof, they had witnesses and that was all done and dusted. They said did I want to press charges. Did I want to ruin his life and mine and my dad’s – they offered Dad ten thousand pounds and he took it. For the best.’

‘Who advised you, Kensa? Who was there that day?’ Willis asked.

‘Sergeant Raymonds. Raymonds took care of it all. He said it would not make a scrap of difference to the lad, he was one of those lads from public school who looked down on us and he wouldn’t give a damn about a girl like me. He said it served me right for going with a lad like that, above my station, and I would have to live with the shame of letting myself be taken advantage of. He said if I agreed not to press charges then no more would ever be said about it, otherwise the whole village would know.

‘They said it was your own fault?’ Lauren asked, sounding shaky.

‘Oh, yes. Should have known better than to trust a stranger. The locals said he brought drugs with him, he planned it all along. Drugged me, raped me, beat me up.’

‘I’m sorry you never got justice, Kensa,’ Willis said. ‘It’s not too late.’ Willis was staring at the wreck of a woman before her; she could see that all her self-esteem had vanished that night.

‘And you never saw Toby again?’ asked Lauren.

‘No. I try to remember him as the sweet lad I knew. We had two weeks of summer love before it all went wrong. I try and remember him like that.’ She smiled sadly.

‘Kensa . . .’ Lauren leaned into her and spoke. ‘When we sell the house and settle his estate, pay the tax, I will make sure you get something.’

Kensa shook her head as she stared into the fire. Then she looked up at Lauren and the embers lit her eyes.

‘Don’t ever sell the house. The house belongs to the people of the village. It has too many secrets now. You live in it and bear those secrets or you sell it to Raymonds and let things continue as they are. Believe me, you’ll never get your boy back.’

Lauren gasped as she rocked on her feet.

‘What do you know, Kensa? Who said that?’

‘I only know that you cross the town and you pays for it. I’ve already said too much to you and they will punish me.’

On the way back down the hill Lauren strode forward.

‘I’m going to call Toby again now.’

‘I’ll see you back at the house. There will be another officer with us, a Family Liaison Officer, soon.’

‘No, I don’t want anyone else in the house,’ Lauren said, visibly upset.

‘Sorry, Lauren, it’s not up to me.’

‘But I have you here.’

‘I can’t stay with you all the time. I need to take an active part in the investigation.’

‘Am I a suspect?’

‘No.’

‘Then I don’t need nursemaiding, I need you to get results. I’ll tell you if I’m not coping.’ She stayed back to try Toby again.





Chapter 29


Raymonds watched the news that morning and the reconstruction on television. It fascinated him as he pulled up his camel-skin pouffe and sat a foot from the TV screen, watching every single move that the pretend Toby took.

Eileen watched him from the doorway.

She stared at the back of his head and thought about the boiled egg and smashing it.

As the reconstruction ended, Raymonds got up to switch the TV off. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked his wife.

‘Waiting.’

‘For what?’

‘The truth.’

He gave a derisory snort through his nose and snot came out that he hadn’t bargained on. He took his cloth handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his nose.

‘What is it you want to know?’

‘Marky?’

‘Hasn’t he been to see you yet?’

‘Oh yes, he’s been. But he’s not himself. He’s not well, I know it. He couldn’t look at me when he was talking to me. He couldn’t stay still. He’s talking about Kensa again. He’s so worried. I’ve told him none of it was his fault.’