Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

relieved that Reg didn’t query her going alone to question a suspect. Of course he didn’t yet know that Ingrid had assaulted her. But now that Ingrid had confessed to five murders, there was no need to dwell on the circumstances of her arrest. Geraldine had brought it up during the taped interview, but there was no reason to draw any further attention to it before the trial. She had asked Sam to exercise discretion, and it would hardly be in Ingrid’s interest for her brief to make a feature of it. The prosecution would doubtless raise it in court, having listened to the interview, but by then the arrest would be history. The details of Geraldine’s part in it would hopefully be buried in general triumph.

     
    In the meantime, Geraldine had other matters on her mind. She felt a familiar tremor hearing prison doors close behind her as she followed a prison officer to the visitors’ room. A long time seemed to pass before Linda shuffled in and sat down without looking at Geraldine. Her dark hair was greasier than Geraldine remembered it, and her extreme pallor looked sickly.
    ‘You’ve heard the news?’
    Linda gave no response.
    ‘About Ingrid.’
    Almost imperceptibly, Linda’s face coloured.
    ‘I don’t know anyone called Ingrid.’
    ‘You know very well who I mean. I’m talking about your niece. She’s changed her name to Ingrid, but you used to call her by her first name, Emily.’

     
    Linda raised her head. Her green eyes glittered wretchedly.
    ‘Leave Emily alone. She doesn’t need you pestering her after all this time.’
    ‘Linda, your niece has been arrested because we know what happened to your husband. We know it wasn’t you who killed him. Emily’s confessed. You’re going to be released.’
    ‘Released?’ she repeated, gazing around the room with an expression of bemusement. She turned back to Geraldine, suddenly angry.
    ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Leave me alone.’
    She stood up but Geraldine told her to wait.
    ‘You can help Emily,’ she added.
    With a grunt, Linda sat down again.

     
    ‘Why did you take the rap for your niece when she killed your husband? You weren’t responsible for his death. Why lie about it?’
    Linda didn’t answer.
    ‘For twenty years you let his killer go free. You’ve spent a lifetime incarcerated for a crime you didn’t commit. Why did you do it, Linda?’
    Linda’s face relaxed into a smile. She leaned forward on her chair and spoke very rapidly, in a low voice. As she explained, her eyes stared ferociously at Geraldine, with a fervour that was almost manic.

     
    ‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But you’re right. It wasn’t me, it was Emily who killed him, and he deserved it, the sick bastard. I should have done it myself, not left it to the child. Because he deserved to die. And I deserved to be punished.’
    ‘You think what you did was right?’
    Linda shrugged, unrepentant.
    ‘You sacrificed twenty years of your life to protect your niece, knowing she had murdered your husband. You knew it was her, didn’t you, because you were there, in the shed. You watched her batter him to death and you didn’t do anything to stop her. But what I don’t understand is why you abandoned her like that.’

     
    Linda’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
    ‘Abandoned her? What are you talking about?’
    She raised her voice. The prison officer started forward. Geraldine shook her head and raised a hand to indicate she didn’t want to be interrupted. Linda dropped her voice.
    ‘You don’t understand. How could you? I promised my sister I’d take care of Emily, promised when she was dying. And then – then …’
    She drew a deep shuddering breath. Geraldine glanced over at the warder whose eyes were fixed on Linda.

     
    ‘It was all right to begin with, when she first came to live with us. I wasn’t sure how William would take to it, having her there all the time, but he was very nice with her, very attentive. But then it started. They were very close and one night I heard her whimpering. I went into her bedroom and I saw them. He was on top of her and I could see her face over his shoulder …’
    She broke off, lost in the horror of the recollection.
    ‘I can still see the terror on her face. She was only thirteen. But I didn’t do anything. I just stood there, watching.’

     
    She lifted her face to Geraldine in sudden appeal.
    ‘I didn’t know what to do. I was only nineteen, not much more