"Why?" asked Nancy helplessly.
"Dunno, darlin'. Martin says people would've accepted him easier if he had a woman and kids with him… so he'd take on some spares till he got bored with the crying… then, wham, he'd hit 'em with a hammer." She lifted her shoulders in a heavy sigh. "Me, I'd say the fucker probably enjoyed it. I expect it gave him a sense of power to get rid of people no one else gave a shit about. Scares me rigid, to be honest. I keep wondering what would have happened to me and the girls if I'd been stupid enough to fall for the sod."
"Were you tempted?"
Bella pulled a face. "For a couple of hours when I was stoned. Didn't trust him much, but I liked the way he made things happen. Put it this way, I can understand why poor old Vera fell for him. Maybe your grandma, too. He could turn on the charm when he wanted, that's for sure. They always say psychos are good at manipulating people… 'n' you can't do that without charisma."
"I suppose not," said Nancy, watching James kneel down to put an arm around Wolfie's waist. "Why do you think he left Wolfie alive?"
"If you believe Martin, 'coz he needed a kid to make himself look respectable for this adverse possession lark. I don't buy that, though. He could have picked up a junkie and her babes the last place he was at. I mean he wasn't gonna hang around long, so it didn't matter who he brought with him. I only spoke to Wolfie's mum once 'n' I wouldn't have been remotely surprised if he'd changed her for a different model.'' She gave another sigh. "It makes me feel bad. Maybe I could've saved her if I'd taken a bit more interest… but you don't think, do you?"
It was Nancy's turn to offer a comforting hand. "Not your fault. So what's your theory on Wolfie?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I reckon Fox liked him. He's a brave little bastard… been telling me about his John Wayne walk, so Fox wouldn't think he was scared… 'n' talking posh so Fox'd think he was clever. Maybe he's the one kid the fucker took a shine to. The way Wolfie describes it, Fox doped him up to the eyeballs before he took the hammer to Vixen 'n' Cub… and the only reason Wolfie saw it is because he woke up when his brother started calling for him. It makes your heart bleed, it really does. There ain't a kid in the world should have to go through something like that… but you gotta reckon Fox put him out so he wouldn't have to kill him."
"Will Wolfie work that out for himself?"
"I hope not, darlin'. He's gonna have enough trauma in his life without building Fox into a sodding icon."
They turned as they heard Mark come into the room. "It's hopeless," he said despondently. "If Ailsa ever kept a copy, it definitely isn't there now. We'll just have to keep our fingers crossed that the police locate theirs." He joined them at the window and put an arm around each of them. "How are they doing?"
"I think James must be telling him about the lobster industry," said Nancy. "I'm not sure the ulster's going to last much longer, though. It seems to be splitting at the seams."
"Good thing, too. It needs throwing out. He says he's been looking to the past too much." It was his turn to sigh. "I'm afraid the police are pressing for Wolfie to be handed over to social services. They want you both to persuade him to go."
"Oh, God!" said Nancy. "I promised him he wouldn't have to do anything until he was ready."
"I know, but I think it's important. They have experts to deal with children like him, and the sooner they can start the process the better. It's what Bella just said. He needs to put Fox into perspective and he can only do that with professional guidance."
"It don't make sense that he can't remember who he is or where he came from," said Bella. "I mean, he's ten years old and he's a bright kid. Yesterday lunchtime he told me he'd always been with Fox-today he's saying he thinks he lived in a house one time. But he ain't got no idea when. He just says it was when Fox wasn't there… but he don't know if it's 'coz Fox went away… or if it was before Fox. Do you reckon fear can do that?"
"I don't know," said Mark. "Put it this way, I shouldn't think drugs and permanent malnutrition helped."
"I know," said Nancy with feeling. "I've never been so scared in my life as I was last night. My brain stopped working completely. I'm twenty-eight years old, I have a degree, I'm a professional soldier, and I can't remember having a single thought for the whole time that I stood in front of these windows. I don't even know how long I was there. Imagine what it must have been like for a child to put up with that level of terror day in, day out for months on end. The miracle is he isn't a complete vegetable. I would have been."
"Yeah," said Bella thoughtfully. "No question Vixen and Cub were vegetables. Vera, too, if it comes to that. What's gonna happen to her, then?"
"I've managed to find a nursing home in Dorchester that will take her," said Mark.
"Who's gonna pay?"
"James," said Mark wryly. "He wants her off the estate as fast as possible and says he doesn't mind how much it costs if it'll keep him from killing her."
Bella chuckled. "The old guy's pretty hot on this blood money lark. Me and Nancy have been watching Ivo skulking in the wood, trying to wave to his woman. It's pretty funny. All she's done so far is give him the finger."
"She'll have to go soon. That's the other thing the police are pressing me on. They want the buses moved to a secure site. It's going to be a bit of a gauntlet-run, I'm afraid, because the press are lining the road, but you'll have a police escort the whole way."
Bella nodded. "How long?"
"Half an hour," said Mark apologetically. "I asked for longer, but they're using up too much manpower guarding the site. Also they want the house cleared so that James can make an inventory of anything that's missing. It looks as if the dining room's lost most of its silver."
The big woman sighed. "It's always the same. Just as you start getting comfortable the flaming cops turn up and move you on. Never mind, eh?"
"Will you talk to Wolfie first?"
"You bet," she said roundly. "Gotta tell him how to find me if he needs me."
31
The photographers weren't pleased that under sub judice rules none of their shots of Julian Bartlett resisting a search warrant could be used until after his trial. The police arrived in force at Shenstead House, and the man's fury when DS Monroe served him with the warrant was dramatic. He tried to slam the door and, when that didn't work, he seized a riding crop from the hall table and whipped at Monroe's face. Monroe, younger and fitter, caught his wrist in midair and twisted his arm up behind his back before frog-marching him toward the kitchen. His words were inaudible to anyone outside, but the reporters all wrote with confidence: "Mr. Julian Bartlett of Shenstead House was arrested for assault at 11:43." Eleanor sat in a state of shock while Julian was handcuffed and cautioned in front of her before being taken to another room while the search of the house began. She seemed unable to grasp that the focus of police attention was her husband, not herself, and kept tapping her chest as if to say mea culpa, the blame is mine. It was only when Monroe put a series of photographs in front of her and asked her if she recognized any of them that she finally opened her mouth.
"That one," she whispered, pointing to Fox.
"Could you name him for me, Mrs. Bartlett?"
"Leo Lockyer-Fox."
"Could you explain how you know him?"
"I told you last night."
"Again, please."
She licked her lips. "He wrote to me. I met him in London with his sister. I don't remember his hair being like this-it was much shorter-but I remember his face very well."