Read Online The Sad Man by P.D. Viner - Free Book Online Page A

to document it – until it was her own child. In those first days after the terrible news, she was out cold – zombified by drugs. Later, when she was back to normal, she was disgusted with herself, disgusted that she gave in to the darkness at the most important time to find the killer. She has blamed herself ever since for the fact that the killer was never found. Tom hopes Valerie never feels such regret.
    ‘Please tell your sister I called.’
    ‘Is there some news?’
    ‘No, no news.’
    She slowly nods her head, to show she understands the import of what he had just said. ‘I am going to stay with my sister until …’
    ‘Good. That’s kind of you. I am sure she appreciates that.’
    ‘My children will be here soon too. They were very close to Charlie.’
    ‘Where are they coming from?’
    ‘Overseas. Helena, the older one lives in Tanzania and Lucy in Nicaragua. They both work for small charities.’
    ‘You must miss them.’
    ‘Of course,’ she laughs to herself. ‘But then I tell myself what a brilliant job I did raising two such extraordinary people.’
    He smiles. ‘That’s a good way to look at it.’
    ‘The three of them were close, like peas in a pod when they were children.’ Her face crumples a little.
    ‘I’d like to talk to them at some point about Charlie. Do you know if they kept in touch, maybe email?’
    ‘Birthdays, Christmas – maybe more, I don’t know. They will be here for a few days, you could ask them. Unfortunately they can’t stay long.’
    He nods. ‘I’ll call to make an appointment.’
    ‘There is a memorial service on Tuesday. Just small, so that they can be present. We don’t know when …’ a spasm of grief runs through her ‘ … the body will be released. I am sure Valerie would …’
    ‘Thank you.’ The two of them stand in silence for a few seconds. ‘I should go.’ He turns and is about to walk away, when he realises what sits in his pocket. He pulls out thesmall, paperback copy of On the Road . Inside is the Polaroid he found at Charlie’s flat. He turns back to the door.
    ‘I found this in Charlie’s things.’ He hands the book to her, the photo pokes out a little. ‘Inside is a photograph of her taken in the last couple of days – it is a little intimate. I thought it should go back to Mrs Brindley-Black. Could you?’
    ‘Intimate?’
    ‘Nothing really embarrassing – just a private photo. I thought Valerie would like to keep it, rather than it go into the evidence file.’ Tom squirms a little.
    ‘That is a rare kindness in today’s world,’ she opens the book and looks at the photograph. A cloud sweeps her face. Tom sees her hand shake a little.
    ‘What is wr—’
    ‘This isn’t my niece.’
    ‘Not Charlie?’
    ‘No, this is my sister. This is Jennifer, my elder sister. This picture is almost thirty years old.’
    Tom feels the ground beneath his feet shift a little.
    ‘Valerie said she only had one sister.’
    ‘Only one alive. Our elder sister is dead – killed when she was nineteen.’
    ‘And this is her.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Her hair?’
    ‘Was the most striking silver white. It was so beautiful.’
    ‘Did you know your niece dyed her hair, exactly like this, two days before she died?’
    ‘No. No, nobody said that.’
    ‘How did your sister die?’
    After a significant pause, she says, ‘She was killed by a rug.’
    ‘A rug?’ he asks.
    She nods, almost apologetically. ‘It was a horrible accident.’ She stops. Evidently, the memories have been locked away for so long they are difficult to recover.
    ‘What happened? Are you okay to—’
    ‘She was driving home, she’d gone to see a band … T-Rex, they were playing at some festival. She was in love with Marc Bolan. It was a week before Christmas. She had slept on a friend’s sofa after the gig and got up early the next morning to drive home. Such a long way, and we told her to be careful. She was – she was a good girl.’ Sophie is lost in the memories