Close to Home (DI Adam Fawley #1)(52)

‘I know. But in theory – what could we be looking at?’

‘Well, if we’re only looking at what’s possible, rather than an actual profile – ’

‘Fine. That’s all I need right now.’

‘Then I’d say that even if Sharon had nothing to do with Jessica’s death, it’s quite conceivable that some part of her – conscious or unconscious – wanted it to happen. Do the math, to coin a phrase. Sharon would have been twelve when her sister was born, and judging by the parents’ ages, I’m guessing the pregnancy came as a surprise to all of them. Hard to know where to start on the cocktail of destructive emotions that could have ignited. Sharon’s just entering puberty, and she’s suddenly confronted by the reality of her parents’ sex life. Awkward, as I believe the young people say. Add to that being deprived of her only-child status, out of the blue, after twelve years assuming that’s the way the world was. “When they said he was their only son, he thought he was the only one.”’

He’s lost me now. ‘He?’

He smiles wryly. ‘Sorry – it’s that seventies song. It came up in the quiz last week. You remember. About the kid who has to cope with suddenly finding he’s got a baby sister. That’s never easy, however well-balanced the kid is, and however sensitively the parents handle it. Only in Sharon’s case it looks like all the parents’ love and attention transferred wholesale to the new baby, and Sharon found herself, without warning, a very inferior second best.’ He shakes his head, then gestures at the screen with his glasses. ‘I’m guessing they never forgave Sharon for being the one who survived. They may even have told her outright she was to blame. And if she wasn’t – if it really was just an accident – well, I can’t think of anything much shittier than that.’

‘Is that a technical term?’

‘It serves. When dealing with the untrained.’

I see Anna suppress a smile.

‘OK,’ I say. ‘Now wind forward twenty-five years. Second time around?’

‘Pretty much, judging by what I’ve seen of Sharon. Which again isn’t much, but enough to see she’s socially insecure, personally vain and almost certainly extremely jealous where that errant husband of hers is concerned. And all that being the case, Daisy is just Jessica all over again. Only far, far worse. Because this time the attention Sharon’s competing for is not her parents’ but her husband’s – someone who should put her first. Or at least that’s how she’d see it. Crueller still, the younger interloper is her own fault – she brought that kid into the world, she presumably made all sorts of sacrifices as a mother, and this is how she’s repaid. All the resentment she felt against Jessica transfers wholesale to Daisy, only magnified many times over. And it’d be all the more toxic because she almost certainly buried her feelings after Jessica died.’

‘So you think she would be capable of killing her own daughter?’

He nods. ‘In theory. If the triggers were powerful enough. If, say, she caught Daisy and her husband together in a situation that suggested anything remotely sexual – in a moment like that, when the red mist came down – I don’t think she’d have seen the husband as being the one to blame. I don’t even think she’d be capable of seeing Daisy as her daughter. All she’d see was a rival.’

He sits back. ‘What you also need to remember is that if Sharon was complicit in some way with the sister’s death – even if only by failing to do anything to save her – then she’s long since come up with a narrative that shifts the blame on to everyone else. The parents, the bystanders, even Jessica herself. And if she really did do something to Daisy, the same thing will be happening now. It will be all the husband’s fault, or even the daughter’s. Textbook denial, fathoms deep. You won’t be able to get her to admit she was in any way involved without tearing down psychological defences she’s taken years to build. Don’t underestimate how hard that will be. I’m prepared to bet this woman never apologizes for anything, however trivial.’

I turn to Anna. ‘That woman – Pauline Pober – any chance of tracking her down?’

‘I could try. It’s an unusual name. And Wokingham isn’t a big town.’

‘And the parents – do we know if they’re still alive?’

‘I checked. Gerald Wiley died in 2014. Heart attack. Sadie is in a care home in Carshalton. Sounds like she has fairly advanced Alzheimer’s. So I suppose you could say Sharon’s the only one left.’

‘It explains a lot about Sharon.’

She glances up at me. ‘The story?’

‘Not just that. The picture.’

‘The Wiley family in happier times’, the caption says. It shows Gerald with Jessica on his knee and Sadie beside him, her hand on his shoulder. Jessica’s wearing a white dress with a sash and her hair is in long ringlets tied with ribbons. She looks eerily like the pictures I’ve seen of Daisy Mason. As for Sharon, I would hardly have recognized her. A heavy, awkward child, standing on the edge of the picture as if she’s been Photoshopped into her own life. Her mousey hair hangs in dull strands. No ribbons for her, it seems. I wonder what it was like living in that house, after Jessica was gone.

It’s the first time I’ve actually felt sorry for her.