Her face soured. ‘Not that it did much good. Three years for causing death by dangerous driving and a two-year ban.’
Christian didn’t know what to say. He felt another apology was inadequate. The silence grew.
‘Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come around here in this bad weather to make idle chit-chat.’
‘No,’ Christian cleared his throat and adjusted his position on the sofa. He always felt uncomfortable delivering the death message. ‘Mrs Croft, why didn’t you tell us you were Sebastian’s mother?’
She let out an audible sigh and crumbled in the armchair. ‘I wondered how long we’d be able to keep it a secret.’ Her bottom lip quivered. The pain was etched on her lined face as she struggled to find the words without a torrent of emotion coming out. ‘I’m guessing Sebastian told you.’
Neither Christian nor Scott replied. As always in these kinds of situations it was best to allow the witness to talk. Who knew what gems she would reveal?
‘I knew Sebastian would crack first, bless him. Would you two like a drink? I think we’re going to need one.’
‘I’ll have a whiskey if there’s one going; I’m not driving,’ Christian said. Despite the old adage of ‘not while I’m on duty’, plain-clothed detectives were allowed a drink, though never to excess. The majority never did, however.
Sheila smiled, eased herself out of the armchair and headed over to the wall unit. She pulled down a door which revealed an array of different types of whiskeys.
‘Do you have a preference?’
‘There’s no prejudice when it comes to whiskey in my opinion.’
‘Man after my own heart. I’m guessing you’d just like an orange juice,’ she said to Scott.
‘Yes, sure, why not?’ he replied, clearly deflated.
Sheila poured three drinks and carried them over on a small silver-plated tray. She took a healthy swig before sitting down in the comfortable chair.
Christian had no intention of having a drink, as much as he’d have liked. He never drank on duty but didn’t want the topic of drink to distract Sheila from what she was about to say.
‘I’m guessing Sebastian’s confessed.’ There was a catch in her throat which she tried to clear. ‘It’s strange how two boys can be so completely different from each other. Sebastian was always sensitive, quick to tears. He had a few friends, but not many. He preferred to spend time in his room with his model cars. Calvin, well, he was the polar opposite: brash, loud, uncaring, a complete psychopath.’ She looked over to the detectives and took in their wide-eyed expressions. ‘I suppose it’s not often you hear a mother talk about her own son like that. I knew there was something wrong with him from an early age. I took him to a doctor, and all he said was that boys will be boys. You wouldn’t get away with that now.’ She took another drink. ‘When the police knocked on the door wanting to question Calvin about those rapes, I knew he’d done it. Oh, he tried to lie his way out of it; he even gave an alibi for one of them, but I could see through it. My son had raped three girls. It made me physically sick thinking about what I’d brought into this world.
‘Richard had long since died, thankfully,’ she looked over to the wedding picture again. ‘I don’t know how he’d have reacted. Sebastian was a lot like Richard. It wasn’t easy for him, to have a brother who was a convicted rapist.
‘I kept in touch with Calvin, while he was in prison,’ she said, turning back to the detectives. ‘Looking back after everything that’s happened, I probably should’ve washed my hands of him, but, well, he’s my son at the end of the day. When he was released, I wanted us to be like a normal family again. We’d been through so much drama, I just wanted us to be happy, to sit down and have a meal together like families do.’
Sheila trailed off. She stared into the distance as if into the past. A look of blissful contentment spread across her face as if she was imaging the perfect family she never had.
‘Why do you have different surnames?’ Scott asked to break the silence Sheila had allowed to descend.
‘Croft was my maiden name. I was Page in everything else, but it was easier for work to be Mrs Croft.’
‘Do the staff at Mary Croft know Sebastian is your son?’ Christian asked.
She shook her head and emptied her glass. ‘Would you like a refill?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
Sheila went over to the cabinet, took out the bottle and brought it back with her.
‘Sebastian couldn’t get a job anywhere. When he did and people found out who his brother was, they made it difficult for him to stay there. Like I said, he was a very sensitive boy.’
‘He wasn’t a qualified teacher, was he?’ Christian asked.
Again, Sheila shook her head. ‘He was a PE teacher in a primary school. It’s not like he was teaching A-level physics. All he had to do was play rounders and badminton with the kids, keep them active. It suited him. He loved the job. He loved the kids. For the first time in his life, he was happy.’
‘And then Keeley Armitage went missing.’
‘We couldn’t track Calvin down for love nor money. He wasn’t answering his phone, he wasn’t at the flat, we started thinking the worst. Then he turned up here asking for money. Sebastian was in the kitchen when the knock came on the door. I answered it and in he walks, bold as brass. I told him we’d been looking for him, ringing him, but he didn’t seem interested. Sebastian came storming into the living room. He had him up against the wall, demanding to know what he’d done with Keeley.’ Tears had started to roll down Sheila’s cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. The half-filled glass in her hands was shaking as she gripped it tight, her knuckles white.
‘Like I said, Calvin was a psychopath. He laughed. He actually laughed in Sebastian’s face. He said he’d not even heard of Keeley going missing. Sebastian grabbed the newspaper and showed him the story. Do you know what Calvin said? He looked at Keeley’s photo and said she was hot. Can you believe that? My own son actually said a nine-year-old girl was hot in front of his mother. It made my flesh crawl.’
‘What happened then?’ Christian asked.
‘I’ve never seen Sebastian like that before. But, I suppose we all have a breaking point. He just flew into a rage. He grabbed my gavel – I had a brass gavel on the mantelpiece – and he hit him. It was like the world stopped turning. Blood started to flow slowly down Calvin’s face. Then he grinned. There was no stopping Sebastian. He kept hitting him over and over and over. I didn’t stop him. I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to.’
‘Is that why you changed the carpet?’
She nodded. ‘The floorboards are stained though. You’ll see when you take the carpet up. You will be careful though, won’t you? It wasn’t cheap.’
Christian nodded. ‘Whose idea was it to take Calvin to the old ski village?’
‘Mine,’ she answered after draining the glass.
‘And the gavel?’
‘It’s in the dishwasher. It’s been washed so many times but I daren’t take it out. I’m convinced there’s still blood on it.’ She stood up and went over to a sideboard. From a drawer she took out a Samsung mobile phone in a clear plastic freezer bag and handed it to Christian. ‘You’ll be wanting this.’