Sometimes our desires run to darker pleasures.
‘Why would you think that?’
‘Well, it took me a while to work it out. Why come up here to the house? I understand why you want to stay close to the chapel. Because that’s where his body is buried. But here –where he died?’
Her smile falters.
‘Then I realized,’ I continue. ‘It’s not the house you visit. It’s the well.’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry, Jack. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes, you do. You knew about the body in the well. You’ve known for thirty years.’
‘And how on earth would I know that Merry’s body was in the well?’
‘Because it’s not Merry. It’s Joy. And you killed her.’
She was early.
They had agreed to meet at eight o’clock. It wasn’t quite ten to.
Joy waited by the broken-down stone wall at the edge of the garden, just out of sight of the house. She checked her watch, willing Merry to emerge from the back door.
Please hurry, she thought. Please. We can leave this place. Start a new life.
She touched her stomach.
And then she heard a sound behind her.
She turned. Her eyes widened.
‘You? Why are you here?’
SIXTY-SEVEN
‘It was an accident.’
‘Really?’
‘We argued. She tripped and fell.’
‘What did you argue about?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Grady. You loved him. But he wasn’t interested in a plain, twenty-something teacher, was he? He preferred them younger. Pretty little things he could subjugate, dominate, hurt.’
‘Joy seduced him.’
‘She was fifteen.’
Her lip curls. ‘She knew what she was doing. I saw what they were doing when he was supposed to be teaching her the Bible.’
‘You saw what he was doing to her.’
‘I told Marsh. I thought that would put an end to it. But then, I spotted her that night, sneaking up here with a rucksack. I thought she was on her way to the chapel to meet him. I followed her.’
‘She wasn’t meeting Grady. She was meeting Merry. They had planned to run away together.’
‘I didn’t mean for it to happen.’
‘Then why didn’t you go for help? You could have walked right up to the house, knocked on the door.’
‘I was scared.’
‘She was pregnant. Did you know that?’
She looks down. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘She was fifteen and pregnant and you left her in a hole to die.’
‘It was an accident.’
‘Really. Or did you think, with Joy out of the way, that Grady might finally notice you? But he didn’t, did he? He just moved on to another young victim.’
She sneers. ‘Merry was no victim. That girl was always trouble. Benjamin was just trying to save her. He was a man of God.’
‘If you really believe that, why did you help Marsh to hide his body?’
She hesitates. ‘Marsh called me that night. Panicked. Desperate. He told me that Benjamin had been performing exorcisms without the Church’s permission. This one had got out of hand. Something terrible had happened –’
She looks down, voice catching. I’d feel sorry for her if I didn’t know that she had no pity for the girls Grady had been abusing.
‘Benjamin was dead, and Merry had run away. Her mother had begged Marsh not to involve the police.’
‘So, Marsh agreed and you just went along with it?’
Her eyes flash. ‘I’d have killed Merry Lane if I could. But Marsh told me that if anyone found out what had happened it would destroy the church. Benjamin would be vilified, disgraced. I couldn’t bear that. I wasn’t able to save his life, so I chose to save his name.’
‘And cover up what he’d been doing.’
‘He was doing God’s work.’
‘You really believe that?’
I reach into my pocket and take out the tape recorder. The cassette is inside. I finally fixed it. In some ways I wish I hadn’t. The contents are hard to listen to.
Clara frowns. ‘What’s that?’
‘The truth about your precious Grady. Everything that happened that night. Everything he did. All on here. I could take this to the police right now.’
Clara stares at it and then smiles coldly.
‘You could … but we both know you won’t.’
‘Really? And why’s that?’
‘Because if the body in the well is Joy, then that must mean that Merry is still alive, out there, somewhere.’ Her grey eyes fix on mine. ‘And I’ll tell them who you really are.’
She lay on the bed, spread-eagled, caked in her own filth. Her mum had caught her trying to run. Now, this was her punishment. Imprisoned. Alone in this room.
Apart from his visits.
She was possessed, her mother had told him. The devil was making her behave this way. She needed his help.
He stared down at her. Her hands and ankles were secured. She was naked, ribs sharp ripples beneath her skin. The bruises from their last encounter lay stark against the white of her flesh. Fingerprints traced in purple and black. Angry red welts from where he had heated his silver signet ring over a flame and pressed it into the tender spots of her body.
Grady smiled. ‘Tonight, Merry, we must work harder to expel your demons.’
He turned and opened his case. It was lined with red silk. Sturdy straps held the contents in place: a heavy crucifix, holy water, a Bible, muslin cloths. His tools. His playthings. On the other side of the case: a scalpel, a sharp serrated knife and one more item, a small black box.
He removed this first, checked the contents and pressed a button along the side. He laid the tape recorder on the bedside table beside her.
He liked to relive their encounters.
‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please don’t hurt me again.’
‘Oh, I will only do what is necessary.’
He took a rag, walked over and, seizing her by the roots of her greasy hair, stuffed it deep into her mouth. She choked, bucking and fighting against the restraints. He laid his hands on her. It seemed to go on for ever. She twisted and spat. The gag flew from her mouth and thick spittle hit his cheeks.
Grady wiped at his face. ‘I can feel the devil inside you. He must be purged.’
He turned to his case, reaching for the serrated knife.
The knife wasn’t there.
Her brother stood in front of him, the heavy blade clasped in his hands.
‘Son –’
Jacob plunged the knife into the curate’s chest. Grady staggered, twisting back towards the bed.
Merry sat up. Her bindings hung loose. Her brother had untied them earlier. She watched as the curate’s eyes registered the deception, then his legs gave way and he crumpled to his knees.
She climbed out of the bed and padded across the floorboards. Grady clutched at the handle of the knife, wheezing hotly. She took the scalpel from the case and crouched down beside him.
‘Please,’ he whispered. ‘I am a man of God.’
Merry smiled and pressed the sharp tip into the soft flesh beneath his left eye.