Barnett sat alongside Gardner in her vehicle as they headed back into Knaresborough.
She wanted to be close to Laura Wilson’s property when response arrived there. En route, she’d drop Barnett at home. He’d left his car at the Atkinson farm when the paramedics advised him not to drive until he’d calmed from his near-death experience. O’Brien had accompanied him back to HQ in a taxi.
The journey was slow, because of the weather, and she had to be vigilant, but she still threw several concerned glances in his direction.
‘You don’t need to worry,’ Barnett said.
‘When it comes to personal issues, I’ve got my fair share of history, you know.’ A sociopathic brother who tried to brain me as a kid for example. ‘If you ever need to talk.’
‘Clarissa Trent,’ Barnett said, looking at Gardner. ‘My sister.’
‘I know,’ Gardner said, nodding and indicating to change lane on the carriageway.
‘Wow… she’ll probably know by now.’
‘Yes. Marsh sent officers to inform them,’ Gardner said.
‘Wonder what Clarissa thought? How she feels?’
‘She’ll be stunned at first, I imagine.’
‘I hope she doesn’t think Mum abandoned her.’
‘Why would she? The narrative behind what really happened is compelling. Your mother’s hardly to blame.’
‘But is she completely blameless?’ Barnett asked.
Gardner indicated off into Knaresborough. Who knew for sure? But Gardner couldn’t see it herself. Amina would’ve taken the money, because, well, why wouldn’t you? She wouldn’t have known the truth.
‘I think she knew she had a child out there,’ Barnett said.
‘It won’t do you any good to think like that. And how could she possibly know?’
‘She wrote poems, boss. About losing someone. She knew something had been torn away from her. That something unjust… unnatural… had happened.’ He shook his head. ‘Maybe I’m overthinking it?’
Again, who knew? You’ll drive yourself mad thinking about it, Ray. ‘Losing her child to death, in itself, would’ve felt unnatural to your mother. As if something had been torn away. She may have suspected nothing.’
‘What do they say though, boss? That a mother knows.’
‘Maybe… but I know this, Ray, so listen carefully. I know Amina Ndiaye’s son. Very well. And if she was anything like him, which I’m sure she was, she wouldn’t have turned her back on the truth. In fact, like her son, she’d have stopped at nothing to find it.’
He nodded, looking tearful. ‘Thanks boss. I hope Clarissa wants to make contact.’
‘She will. In her own time. Just let her come to you.’
The phone rang. It was response. Laura Wilson wasn’t home.
Frustrated, and desperate, she used every part of her willpower to stop herself hitting the steering wheel. The individual beside her right now was rather sensitive. It was better to avoid sudden moves.
She parked beside Barnett’s house.
This time when her phone rang, her blood froze.
‘You all right, boss?’
‘I don’t know, yet.’
She answered the phone. ‘Neville.’
‘Hello, Emma.’