Page 72 of Vengeance is Mine

‘Oh, you know, the usual. Overworked, understaffed.’

‘Nothing changes.’

Terry took a sip of his tea. He knew he was stalling.

‘I need to tell you both something,’ he said, not making eye contact. ‘There’s been a murder that I’d rather you heard about from me than the news outlets.’ He swallowed hard. ‘There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just going to come straight out with it.’ He took a deep breath, still unable to look at them. ‘Dominic Griffiths has been killed.’

He was still looking down into his teacup. When neither of them spoke, he looked up at two blank faces staring at him.

‘How?’ Harry asked quietly.

‘I’m waiting to hear back from forensics, and the PM hasn’t been done yet, but we think he may have interrupted a burglary. He was stabbed.’

‘Oh’ was all Harry could say.

‘Barbara?’ Terry prompted.

Her face was impassive. ‘I don’t know how to react. I feel like I should be pleased.’

‘Barbara!’ Harry chastised.

‘Well, what am I supposed to say? I can hardly feel sorry for the man, can I? Anyway, I said I feel like I should be pleased. I didn’t say I was pleased. I’m… I don’t know how I feel, to be honest.’

‘Have you identified a suspect yet?’ Harry asked.

‘No. I’ve got a team interviewing his neighbours.’

‘Who found him?’

‘His daughter.’

‘Dawn?’ Barbara asked. ‘Oh, that poor girl. She must be in pieces.’

‘Is she a suspect?’ Harry asked, knowing the person who found the body was often the most likely perpetrator.

‘Harry! Of course she isn’t,’ Barbara said.

‘She doesn’t have an alibi, but I don’t think so,’ Terry said.

‘Well, it’s karma, isn’t it?’ Barbara placed her cup on the tray and stood up. ‘An eye for an eye and all that. He got what was coming to him.’ She folded her arms across her chest and went over to the mantelpiece, picking up a photograph of Stephanie.

‘It’s not right, though,’ Harry said. ‘Nobody has the right to take the law into their own hands. Justice always prevails. I’ve said that all my life.’

‘Well, it didn’t in this case, did it?’ Barbara said, almost shouting. ‘Where was the justice for us, for Stephanie? He got life in prison, then he was let out twenty years later and given a million pounds to live comfortably for the rest of his life. That’s not justice. That’s sticking two fingers up at the law. That’s rewarding someone for taking a life.’

‘Barbara, not again. Not now,’ Harry said, his face wrinkling at the notion of having to repeat the same argument. ‘He wasn’t just released. He wasn’t a free man.’

‘He should have been locked away without the possibility of parole. He cut my daughter into fifteen pieces. I don’t care what kind of medication he was taking; he knew exactly what he was doing when he stuffed her into those bin bags.’ She looked at Terry with tear-filled eyes. ‘I’m not sorry he’s dead. I’m glad. I’m thrilled that someone decided to stand up and take the law into their own hands. When you find out who did it, I know he’ll have to go to prison for what he did, but I’ll go see him, and I’ll shake his hand and thank him for what he did.’

‘Barbara!’ Harry barked.

She replaced the photo of Stephanie on the mantel and slowly left the room and headed upstairs.

Harry and Terry fell silent while they listened to Barbara’s footsteps. They heard a door open then slam shut.

‘She’s gone into Stephanie’s room,’ Harry said. ‘She always goes in there when she needs to have a good cry.’

‘I had to come and tell you, Harry.’