DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 1, стр. 358
‘Did you tell her why?’
‘No. I’ve also asked her daughter to be present.’
‘She’s here?’
‘Yes.’
The two police officers entered the house, recently renovated from what Isaac could see. In the main room, two women sat. ‘I’m Gwen Barrow, this is my daughter, Sally.’
In the other room, a child could be heard. ‘She should be alright for a few minutes,’ the younger of the two women said. Wendy could see that she was a bright woman, early-twenties, with dark hair. On her left hand she wore a wedding ring.
The similarities between the two women were striking.
‘Mrs Barrow,’ Isaac said. He realised that it was going to be difficult.
‘Call me Gwen. Mrs Barrow makes me sound old.’
‘Gwen, has your husband told you the reason we are here?’
‘Only that it has something to do with Malcolm.’
‘That is correct. What I am to tell you will be distressing.’
‘It was a long time ago. I’ve no more tears, neither has Sally.’
Isaac realised he was procrastinating. He took a deep breath. ‘Malcolm Woolston did not die eleven years ago.’
‘What do you mean? Ed, did you know about this?’
‘They told me earlier.’
‘When, if it wasn’t when we thought it was?’ Sally asked. The child was making a noise in the other room. ‘Susie needs her bottle,’ she said.
‘I’ll deal with it. You need to be here,’ Wendy said.
After Wendy had left and the child had quietened down, Isaac continued. ‘Malcolm Woolston is not dead.’
The two women sat up straight; the older of the two, the colour in her face draining away.
‘How, why?’ Sally asked.
‘Malcolm Woolston, we now know, has been near to this house and in the area for the last five to six years, probably longer.’
‘We would have seen him,’ Gwen Barrow said.
‘You would not have recognised him.’
‘Why not? I was married to the man for thirteen years.’
‘Believe me,’ Isaac said, ‘this must be very difficult, but we have proof that he has been in the area, and that he is very much alive as we speak.’
‘Then why does he hide?’
‘Let me ask you both. Have either of you ever seen a homeless man in the area?’
‘I have on many occasions,’ Sally said. ‘I even gave him some money, some food, but why?’
‘Describe him?’
‘Dirty, unkempt. He smelt bad.’
‘Was he tall or short?’
‘He was sitting down the one time I approached him, but he was probably tall.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Not really. I noticed him looking at us a few times. He wanted to say hello to Susie once.’
‘Did you let him?’
‘No. I didn’t want him spreading germs over her. She had a bit of a cough as it was.’
‘Have you,’ Isaac asked, ‘seen another man, casually dressed in a pair of trousers, a jacket, with short hair and a black beard?’
‘He wanted to give a sweet to Susie. I threatened to call the police.’
‘What do you reckon?’ Isaac asked Wendy who had just returned to the room.
‘Gwen, Sally, we are sure that those two men were one and the same; they were Malcolm Woolston,’ Wendy said.
‘We have a photo,’ Isaac said. He handed the picture to the two women. They both looked at it for several minutes. Gwen Barrow seemed close to passing out. Ed Barrow had his arm around her.
Sally held the photo firm, her hand shaking. ‘That’s him,’ she said. ‘That’s the man in the park.’
‘He’s also your father.’
‘But why?’ Gwen Barrow asked.
‘We don’t know why he disappeared, but we are aware that he has returned.’
‘Is this a police matter?’ Sally asked.
‘Unfortunately, it is. We’re from Homicide. There’s a warrant out for his arrest,’ Isaac said.
‘Is he suspected of murder?’ Gwen Barrow asked.
‘He must be regarded as dangerous, and at no time must you allow yourselves to come into direct contact with him.’
‘Will he harm us?’
‘We don’t think so, but we do not understand his motives as to why he stayed hidden for all this time, and we’ve not figured out why he has committed murder.’
‘How many?’ Ed Barrow asked, although he had already been told the answer.
‘Three that we know of.’
‘He can’t have done what you say,’ Sally said. ‘Not my father.’
‘We have proof. He will be arrested. You must understand that,’ Isaac said.
‘We both understand, DCI. Thank you for coming to tell us personally,’ Gwen Barrow said. She was holding her daughter tight.
***
Isaac had always thought that the most difficult part of policing was telling the relatives that a loved one had died in an unfortunate accident, but he had been wrong. Sitting in that house telling Malcolm Woolston’s former wife and his daughter that the man was a mass murderer was much worse. And now they still had to find the man, charge him, convict him, and then lock him up.
Once he had had to tell a decent, law-abiding couple that their youngest son had blown himself up, along with some innocent bystanders. As tragic as that had been, the perpetrator, as well as his victims, were dead, and in time mourned and then compartmentalised in the minds of their relatives. Those people had been allowed to continue with their lives, fractured as they may have been, but with Malcolm Woolston, the man would be around forever, and there’d be the soul-searching by his wife about what she may have done wrong to cause him to disappear. And then the conflicting loyalties and loves of two men, both husbands. And as for the daughter, the father she had cherished with a childhood memory was no longer a man to be proud