Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(87)

Jackman looked at her with astonishment.

‘Toby killed them, didn’t he? He wasn’t fragile, as Benedict would have us believe, he was psychotic and an incredibly dangerous predator.’

Philip heaved a sigh and Marie sensed relief in it. ‘You have to understand that Toby suffered more than any of us, other than Fleur. I knew that he would never be able to integrate back into society. Benedict and I worked ceaselessly to keep him out of harm’s way. Micah lived at the farm in order to watch out for him, but we needed to get him to Windrush. And we were almost there.’

He looked at Marie, tears in his eyes. ‘Now he’s dead, and it’s the answer to a prayer. I’d like to believe that he is up in heaven singing for his Maker, but I doubt that very much. You asked me before if I sing, and I do, we all could, but Toby had a voice that would make angels weep. Sadly, that was the only beautiful thing about Toby. I should have put him out of his misery years ago. After all, I have the knowledge and the wherewithal, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.’

Marie thought about the flowers. She could believe that.

*

Marie left to get Philip some water, and Jackman asked him about Asher and his perfect fiancée.

‘Asher? He’s not a bad boy really. Somehow he managed to come out of our personal hell with a sort of mixed-up, old-fashioned moral code, even if he does have a problem with sex. He adores his girlfriend and respects her wishes, but because of his obsession with sex, he regularly visits prostitutes.’

‘And goes to sex clubs?’

Philip shook his head. ‘No. Not Asher. The clubs were Toby’s hunting ground.’

‘Can you tell us anything about them, Philip?’ Jackman asked. For the sake of the recording, he added that DS Evans had just come back into the room.

‘Not really, other than a few old locations. I tried to stop him, but he was too secretive. He would get a text or a call, and disappear.’ Philip sighed. ‘I just prayed that none of the girls he met were born on a Wednesday.’

Jackman decided to bring the interview to a close. He told Philip that whatever he was charged with, it wouldn’t be murder.

Philip didn’t seem to care. He was a husk, emptied out. As they stood up to leave, he said, ‘What will they do with my sister?’

‘Fleur? When it’s over, she will be buried properly, and with dignity.’

‘That’s good. And, Inspector, my other sister, Elizabeth. Is she safe?’

‘She’s in a psychiatric hospital. Yes, she’s safe.’

‘She self-harms. That’s her problem. But Benedict looks after her.’

Of course, thought Marie. Those long sleeves pulled tightly down over her hands. That full-length skirt, down to her ankles, even in the stifling heat of the hospital room. She should have known.

Jackman had his finger on the recorder button. ‘Philip? How much did the others know? Especially Benedict.’

Philip looked up. ‘About?’

‘The Children’s Ward? The abductions? The drugging of Wednesday’s Children? And what Toby did to them in that caravan out on the marsh?’

‘Nothing, Inspector. They knew nothing. Ben’s whole life was devoted to keeping Elizabeth safe and working on ways to finance the rebuilding of Windrush.’ Philip gave a little shrug. ‘Although I’m sure he won’t be surprised when you tell him what happened.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘It would have been kinder to put us down when they found us, like a litter of kittens. They should have known that we would never survive in the world. Especially when some of them began to suspect what might really have happened at Alderfield.’

‘To your parents?’ Jackman asked.

Philip nodded.

‘The police believed that you were responsible for both your parents’ deaths?’ added Marie.

‘After what my father and my mother put us through, we were no longer responsible for anything.’ Philip gave a humourless laugh. ‘But yes, they suspected as much. The problem was, the police saw things that no one should. The horror of what they found in that house clouded their judgement. We were damaged then, Detectives, and it was too late to do anything about it. They should have locked us away and allowed us to rot. Then twelve girls would not have had to die.’

One small detail still bothered Marie. ‘Can I ask one last question, Philip? We never found any photographs of Toby. Not at the farmhouse or anywhere. Why was that?’

Philip gave a small smile. ‘There were very few pictures ever taken of any of us, Sergeant, but Toby had strange eyes. They were so pale that in some lights he looked as if he had no pupils, and the camera always picked that up. He looked either blind or dead.’

Dead eyes.

As Jackman and Marie walked away, from behind the locked door came the sound of the purest voice singing a lullaby. This time it didn’t turn their blood to ice, it melted their hearts with sadness.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

‘It’s tonight! Ten thirty, location to be advised.’ Rosie snapped the phone shut. ‘We’re on!’

*

Rosie and Max slipped out of their car and moved away into the darkness of the tree-lined lane. As she watched them go, Marie felt a surge of emotion. Two of their own were walking into a very dangerous situation, but another woman she cared about might finally be about to get some justice.