69236538256563
I didn’t know what to say. I looked at my sister’s blog quite frequently, usually with some awe, especially at its mythologising and professionalising of family life. It was like a glossy food magazine, an enviable social diary. It was not my world. I clicked on the email instead. Email From: Ivy Cooper To: Nicola Forbes 25 October 2012 at 23:13 Re: Ben Dear Nicky BRETT’S LEGACY ‘DO SOME GOOD’ This is a time of tremendous pain for you and your family. We are praying for Ben, and for your family. Our son Brett was taken from us seven years ago, and since then we’ve been through things that we never thought we would have to experience. Before he was taken from us, one of Brett’s favourite things to say was, ‘Mom, Let’s do some good,’ and we decided to make this a choice for our future, so that we could offer some help to other families who find themselves in the same situation. We made this decision five years ago, soon after Brett’s body was discovered, and… I stopped reading. I looked at my sister. ‘What happened to Brett?’ I said. ‘Have you read it all? Read to the end, you must. They actually understand what it’s like and it’s such a relief, honestly, I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I’ve been struggling so much to find anyone out there who knows what—’ ‘What happened to him?’ I had to know. I didn’t like the email. I didn’t want to be part of this club: a family of devastated families. I wasn’t ready for that. Ben was going to come back to me. I wasn’t going to be like them. ‘It’s not relevant.’ ‘It’s relevant to me.’ ‘Brett died,’ Nicky said. ‘Unfortunately.’ ‘How did he die?’ ‘Rachel.’ ‘How did he die?’ ‘He was murdered, by his abductor. But that’s not the point, and they would never have found out what happened to him if the family hadn’t worked really hard to get the police to pursue the case.’ ‘Ben’s coming back.’ ‘I hope he is, God knows I do, you know I do –’ she was twisting a tea towel tight between her hands – ‘but we have to accept the possibility that he might not be back soon, that some harm might have come to him. It’s been six days.’ I couldn’t hear it. Not from Nicky. Not from anybody. Not now. Not ever. ‘I’m going to see Ruth,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This wasn’t how I wanted this morning to go.’
JIM When you work a case like this one, you long for a lead. When you get one, you’re all over it, and that’s how I felt about Nicola Forbes. I’d been ready to chase her to the end of the line. What you don’t expect is for something else just as strong to turn up, because then it’s a bit like being in a shooting range, trying to decide what to aim at, what’s a decoy and what’s real. Friend or enemy? Where should your sights land? You can’t always tell straight away, but sometimes you are presented with a clear and immediate threat, and it’s obvious that you must respond to that. That’s what happened on day six of the case. The letter arrived, and it changed the game completely. It came in the morning post. Postmark BS7, addressed to Fraser directly, at Kenneth Steele House. Fraser’s secretary opened it. Her scream could be heard out in the corridor at the far end of the incident room and she bolted out of her office. Fraser pulled us in straight away. The letter was in an evidence bag by then, and the secretary was already having her fingers inked next door so we could eliminate her prints. She was shaking and tearful, an extreme reaction for somebody who regularly got to file crime scene photographs. ‘Jim,’ Fraser said once we’d closed the door behind us. ‘Get John Finch in.’ Emma was there too. She didn’t look as though she’d slept. Under her make-up her skin was dull and strained. To anybody else she probably looked more or less her usual self – a tired version of herself, of course – but I could see a few extra small signs of disarray. Her hair wasn’t tied up as neatly as usual, and her shirt didn’t look fresh. You can do that if you want to know every inch of somebody better than you know yourself. I wanted to put my arm around her, ask her if she was coping, but I couldn’t of course. Not there, not then. Emma’s phone rang just as Fraser finished filling us in. She glanced at it. ‘It’s Rachel Jenner, boss,’ she said. ‘Should I tell her?’ ‘Nuh uh,’ said Fraser. ‘Not a word, not yet.’
- Page 168 and 169: RACHEL I slept only fitfully after
- Page 170 and 171: WEB PAGE - www.whereisbenedictfinch
- Page 172 and 173: JIM I spoke to Emma before I left f
- Page 174 and 175: say that he doesn’t play by the r
- Page 176 and 177: ‘Bye,’ Fount said to him. ‘Wh
- Page 178 and 179: thanked her for what she did for us
- Page 180 and 181: I sat on the bed for a long time, u
- Page 182 and 183: JIM Fraser and I had a pre-meet bef
- Page 184 and 185: ‘He’s got an alibi, doesn’t h
- Page 186 and 187: RACHEL Nicky phoned the police and
- Page 188 and 189: door in the middle of the night. Yo
- Page 190 and 191: an orange wash remained. It struck
- Page 192 and 193: RACHEL When I got back inside Nicky
- Page 194 and 195: JIM On the night of Wednesday, 24 O
- Page 196 and 197: DAY 5 THURSDAY, 25 OCTOBER 2012 You
- Page 198 and 199: RACHEL I slept the night in Ben’s
- Page 200 and 201: individuals closest to Ben, and he
- Page 202 and 203: ‘What about their son, Charlie Bo
- Page 204 and 205: He took another sheet of paper from
- Page 206 and 207: more imperfect than any version of
- Page 208 and 209: JIM Addendum to DI James Clemo’s
- Page 210 and 211: JC: She said she was knackered. She
- Page 212 and 213: It led swiftly to the fourth state.
- Page 214 and 215: Quick response appreciated, obvious
- Page 216 and 217: WEB PAGE - www.whereisbenedictfinch
- Page 220 and 221: RACHEL Zhang agreed to come and giv
- Page 222 and 223: sensation. Then she spoke to him of
- Page 224 and 225: abstract shapes floating within it,
- Page 226 and 227: JIM I got one of the DCs to pick up
- Page 228 and 229: RACHEL This time, I made no attempt
- Page 230 and 231: dog, black and white like Skittle,
- Page 232 and 233: FM: I’m not intending to. That’
- Page 234 and 235: everything that had happened. But I
- Page 236 and 237: JIM We worked closely with John Fin
- Page 238 and 239: DAY 7 SATURDAY, 27 OCTOBER 2012 An
- Page 240 and 241: RACHEL In the early hours of the mo
- Page 242 and 243: school year, but I started to work
- Page 244 and 245: tight. A hospital band was visible
- Page 246 and 247: cancer himself. The whole family, w
- Page 248 and 249: Another page. A different drawing:
- Page 250 and 251: ‘The blog.’ I was slow; I didn
- Page 252 and 253: told him to fuck off. ‘Tell Frase
- Page 254 and 255: ‘Stop asking me to be patient. Ho
- Page 256 and 257: JIM In the incident room the blinds
- Page 258 and 259: swing. ‘So what are we thinking?
- Page 260 and 261: ‘She’s drunk?’ I asked when h
- Page 262 and 263: JIM Addendum to DI James Clemo’s
- Page 264 and 265: JC: Fine. He coaxes his lips up int
- Page 266 and 267: JIM It was Emma who I thought of al
I didn’t know what to say. I looked at my sister’s blog quite frequently, usually with some awe,<br />
especially at its mythologising and professionalising of family life. It was like a glossy food<br />
magazine, an enviable social diary. It was not my world.<br />
I clicked on the email instead.<br />
Email<br />
From: Ivy Cooper <br />
To: Nicola Forbes <br />
25 October 2012 at 23:13<br />
Re: Ben<br />
Dear Nicky<br />
BRETT’S LEGACY ‘DO SOME GOOD’<br />
This is a time of tremendous pain for you and your family. We are praying for Ben, and for your family.<br />
Our son Brett was taken from us seven years ago, and since then we’ve been through things that we never thought we would have to<br />
experience. Before he was taken from us, one of Brett’s favourite things to say was, ‘Mom, Let’s do some good,’ and we decided to<br />
make this a choice for our future, so that we could offer some help to other families who find themselves in the same situation.<br />
We made this decision five years ago, soon after Brett’s body was discovered, and…<br />
I stopped reading. I looked at my sister. ‘What happened to Brett?’ I said.<br />
‘Have you read it all? Read to the end, you must. They actually understand what it’s like and it’s<br />
such a relief, honestly, I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I’ve been struggling so much to find anyone<br />
out there who knows what—’<br />
‘What happened to him?’ I had to know. I didn’t like the email. I didn’t want to be part of this club:<br />
a family of devastated families. I wasn’t ready for that. Ben was going to come back to me. I wasn’t<br />
going to be like them.<br />
‘It’s not relevant.’<br />
‘It’s relevant to me.’<br />
‘Brett died,’ Nicky said. ‘Unfortunately.’<br />
‘How did he die?’<br />
‘Rachel.’<br />
‘How did he die?’<br />
‘He was murdered, by his abductor. But that’s not the point, and they would never have found out<br />
what happened to him if the family hadn’t worked really hard to get the police to pursue the case.’<br />
‘Ben’s coming back.’<br />
‘I hope he is, God knows I do, you know I do –’ she was twisting a tea towel tight between her<br />
hands – ‘but we have to accept the possibility that he might not be back soon, that some harm might<br />
have come to him. It’s been six days.’<br />
I couldn’t hear it. Not from Nicky. Not from anybody. Not now. Not ever.<br />
‘I’m going to see Ruth,’ I said.<br />
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This wasn’t how I wanted this morning to go.’
Change language