Pop Goes the Weasel | страница 49

Suddenly Helen was filled with anger. Whoever was responsible knew what they were doing. They were intent on visiting as much pain on these innocent families as they could. They wanted to take them beyond the limits of human endurance, to destroy them. But Helen wouldn’t let them. She would see them destroyed before she let that happen.

Leaving Alison to rally family support, Helen departed. The messenger is never welcome in a house of death and, besides, she had work to do.

Helen strode away from the house, confident that Alison would shepherd Jessica slowly, inexorably, towards a semblance of stability. Alison was brilliant at her job – patient, kind and wise. When the time was right she would sit Jessica down and tell her the full details of her husband’s murder. Jessica would need to know, would need to understand how her husband would now become public property, the subject of gossip and speculation. But it was too early, the shock too great, and she would leave it to Alison to judge the moment.

‘Are you chasing another serial killer, Helen?’

Helen spun round, but she knew that voice.

‘You really don’t have much luck, do you?’

Emilia Garanita shut the door of her Fiat and walked over. How the hell had she got here so quickly?

‘Before you tell me to jump in a lake, I think you should know that I had some face time with your boss today. Ceri Harwood is a breath of fresh air after Whittaker, don’t you think? She’s promised to be open and honest with us – you scratch my back and all that – and said that you were on board. So let’s start off on a new footing, shall we? What can you tell me about this killer and how can the Evening News assist the investigation?’

Her pad and pen were poised in anticipation, her face the picture of innocence and enthusiasm. God, Helen wanted to punch her – she had never met anyone who seemed to take such active enjoyment in the unhappiness of ordinary people. She was a ghoul – without a ghoul’s redeeming features.

‘If Detective Superintendent Harwood has offered to give you the relevant information, then I’m sure she’ll do so. She’s a woman of her word.’

‘Don’t be cute, Helen. I want details. I want an exclusive.’

Helen eyed her up. She could tell Emilia wasn’t bullshitting. Somehow she had managed to get Harwood onside – at whose instigation? Helen wondered. More than that, she’d got to the Reid residence almost as quickly as Helen had. She was no longer an adversary who could be crushed. Helen would have to be smarter than that.