End in Tears Read Online Free PDF Page B

first names. Well, except the one who brought her to the end of the road. He’s called Ben Miller and I think he lives in Myfleet. Yes, he does, that’s right. Does that help?”
    â€œVery much so,” said Wexford. “Perhaps you’ll tell us the friends’ names that you do know.”
    â€œAs I said, I don’t know any surnames. There was a Chris and a Megan and a Veryan. She came here once or twice. Oh, and Sam—I don’t know if that’s Samuel or Samantha—and Lara. I think Lara and Megan are sisters. Of course I can’t say if she met any of them last night. No, Brand, not now, Di’s busy.” She didn’t quite push the child away. Her hands on his shoulders, she bent down to him and shook her head several times. “No, Brand, do you hear me? Play with your dog. Take him for a walk around the room.” Her tone was cool, more the primary schoolteacher of Wexford’s own youth than the nursery nurse of today. “I don’t know how I’m going to manage,” she said to the policemen. “It’s been hard enough with Amber here for part of every day. It’s not even as if she was my daughter. It’s not fair on me, is it?”
    Wexford was seldom lost for words, but he was then. He got up. Burden got up. Brand was walking around the room, using the furniture for support and pulling the dog on wheels behind him. Instead of “Mama” this time, he said, “Di,” and then, “Di, Di, Di.”
    Probably it wasn’t the first time, but still Wexford expected delight to show in Diana Marshalson’s face. Unsmiling, she heard the little boy repeat the diminutive of her name, looked at him briefly and turned away.
    â€œI’ve had most of the care of this child since he was born,” she said. “It’s not really fair, is it? Amber hated me from the start. She’d have hated anyone who married her father. Oh, I’m not saying she kept up a vendetta, she got used to me, she more or less accepted, but she always disliked me. Yet when he was born I was the one left to look after him when she was at school. After a while I left my job. I was in partnership with George, but I had to give up. She never asked me, she took it for granted. Because I’d no children of my own, I must want to look after hers. When she went out in the evening and half the night I was the one who had to get up to him when he cried. Still, it’s no good going on about it, is it? Worse than useless. Is there anything more you want to know?”
    After a glance at Wexford, Burden said, “Not now, thank you, Mrs. Marshalson. We shall certainly want to see you again, though.”
    In silence, they went out from a warm closeness into punishing heat, an August fast becoming the hottest on record. For a few moments, before it became stifling, Wexford felt the heat like comfort. He put up his face to the sun as Burden exploded.
    â€œGod help me, but I’ll have sleepless nights over that child. Poor little boy! His grandfather can’t bear to look at him because he reminds him of his dead daughter. His stepgrandmother makes no bones about finding him a nuisance. His mother is dead and by the sound of it she wasn’t winning any prizes for nurturing. And they’re not poor, they could afford a decent nanny, someone who might love him. It makes me sick to my stomach.”
    â€œCalm down, Mike. I’m the emotional one, remember? We’ve got a reversal of roles here.”
    They both got into the car. Standing for so long, it had warmed up inside. Donaldson started up the engine and switched on the air-conditioning. The searchers were still scouring the meadow.
    â€œI’d go over and see if they’ve found anything,” Wexford said, “only I’ve got a press conference at six-thirty. And by the way, I entirely agree with you about those Marshalsons and the little boy.”
    â€œWhy did