Caught in the Web by Emmy Ellis (most read books in the world of all time TXT) 📗

“This is why he stayed in my mind all this time, because he was inappropriate,” Mr Ustav said. “And then his murder was in the newspaper with his picture a few years later. I said to Letty that the girl’s father must have found out what a dirty man Mr Varley was and had killed him. I rang the police and told them this, but they did nothing. I tried to do the right thing.”

Burgess stifled a heave. Bile stacked up in his throat, pushing to come out. Nothing about Mr Ustav’s call had been logged in William’s file. And ‘inappropriate’ didn’t cover what he thought of his father. If he were alive today and Burgess knew what he knew now, he’d have no trouble shopping him, seeing him put behind bars. This news was going to hurt his mother so much.

I wouldn’t choose to tell her, but when the press get hold of this… Shit.

“Yes.” Burgess cleared his throat. “You tried to do the right thing.”

“Once Mr Varley’s washing had finished, I told him not to come back, that he was not welcome here. I pointed at the girl then at him. He got red cheeks. He knew what I was referring to. So if he had the red cheeks, why had he touched her in the first place, if he knew it was wrong?”

“I don’t know.” I’ll never know now. “What was the young girl’s reaction to this touch?”

“This is the most disturbing thing,” Mr Ustav said. “She was laughing and she leant her head on his shoulder, then…then she kissed him. On the mouth. I remember telling myself she just looked like a young girl, that she was older than she seemed, but I knew deep down. Otherwise, why would I have told him not to return?”

“So would you say that they had arranged to meet here? That they had met before? They knew one another already?”

“Yes. I think now that I look back on it that the bedspread and pillows were convenient to be dirty, if you understand what I am saying.”

“I understand.” Jesus Christ… “And were you aware that the woman who was found in the alley sixteen years ago was that young girl, the one in here with Mr Varley?”

Mr Ustav’s face paled, and he made a choking sound. He reached for his coffee then took a long swallow. “My goodness, that is most horrible. I did not know that.”

“Back to Gordon.” Burgess feared the old man might be sick, so another direction was in order. “Do you know his usual pattern? You know, day to day when he’s finished work? I understand you stay here quite late.”

“He goes up the stairs after work. I hear his TV or radio. I do not see him go past the window in the evenings before I leave about eight, although he could go in the other direction up the street. But I do not hear his front door close, and I would because it sticks and needs to be slammed. I must get that fixed. It needs to be planed.”

“So he really does keep to himself—or he goes out much later, after you’ve gone home?”

“Perhaps. Why are you asking these things about Gordon?”

“Oh, he’s one of the only residents or shop owners and their employees down here that we haven’t had a chance to speak to about the recent murder. We have to ask everyone if they’ve seen anything. He hasn’t been in when officers have called round, so I’m here today to see if he’s there. It appears he isn’t.”

“He will be back at work on Monday. You can speak to him then.” Mr Ustav nodded. “Will I tell him you have been looking for him?”

“No, thank you.”

“Ah.” Mr Ustav widened his eyes. “Do I need to worry?”

What the fuck do I say to that?

“Um, I wouldn’t say so.”

Please let me be right on that. I don’t want Gordon hurting Ustav.

“Will you be needing to go up the stairs if he does not answer?” Mr Ustav pointed to a wooden key box mounted on the wall. “If I have not heard him or seen him since his last shift, and he is not answering his door, then perhaps he is hurt up there? He might need assistance. I am so worried…”

The man didn’t wink, but he might as well have done.

“Are you worried?” Burgess asked.

“Yes, of course. I wish to know that he is all right.” He went over to the box and produced a set of keys. Placed them in Burgess’ hand. “I would like you to go up the stairs now.”

“I can do that for you, Mr Ustav.”

Burgess left the back area then walked through the front of the shop. The woman was still there immersed in her magazine, the dryer still clonking, the washing now on the spin cycle.

An image of his father sitting there beside Emily Hornton streaked through his mind, along with mocking laughter that set his nerves on edge. To find out his father had been a pervert wasn’t the best of things to discover. And once they had Varley down at the station and had taken a DNA swab, finding out whether his father had followed through on his proclivities and had made Emily Hornton pregnant would be more than the usual slap in the face.

His mother had kept William’s brush and comb set all these years, stored in a keepsake box. Hopefully there would be hairs in there that would produce the results that were needed to prove who Gordon’s father had been. Failing that, Burgess could give a blood sample.

The results that will prove I had a deviant father and that my poor mother stuck by him, clueless as to Emily’s age when he’d first been with her. That fucker didn’t deserve