The Puppet Show (Washington Poe)

‘So, you moved up here?’

‘You know we did, Poe. We were at school together. They both loved the Lake District and she wanted me to visit the places involved: Ullswater, the stone circle where my friends were killed, Carmichael’s house. Show me that it was over. She got a CBT job in Westmorland General Hospital and George opened his practice up here.’

Victoria Reid had uprooted her life for a boy who wasn’t hers. Her husband had done the same. Poe didn’t come across good people very often – he felt a hypocrite when he did – and now he wished he’d spent more time with them.

‘And gradually you got better?’

‘It took a while but, yes, gradually I got better. I stopped wetting the bed. I stopped cringing every time someone came near, or touched me. I stopped reliving it.’

‘And you became Kylian Reid,’ Poe stated.

‘In those days everyone assumed you were who you said you were. I was registered at school as their son. I met you. No one questioned my past. And as Victoria worked for the NHS it was a simple job for her to slip some new birth records in.’

For someone to have gone through so much in such a short time beggared belief. For that person then to finally get the chance to have a life was heart-lifting. A testament to human endurance.

So what had happened? He asked the question.

‘Why didn’t I enjoy the rest of my life with parents who loved me?’

Poe’s eyes were moist. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

‘You know, I think I might have. I really do. The plan had always been that, when I was ready, I would go to the police. Report it and take my chances in the criminal justice system. But . . . when I was ready, I found that I didn’t want to. The thought of a peaceful life with two good people appealed to me more than revenge.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Fate happened, Poe. I went to a vets’ function with my dad. One of those networking events. A meal and a few drinks afterwards. It was at the Masonic Hall in Ulverston and, lo and behold, guess who was there?’

Poe didn’t answer.

‘Graham fucking Russell, that’s who. Larger than life, laughing and joking, brandy stains all over his shirt.’

Shit . . .

‘Victoria had helped me stop reliving everything I associated with my past, but when I saw that fat, flabby piece of shit something inside me snapped. I was no longer in the Masonic Hall, I was back in Carmichael’s basement – Russell sweating and heaving on top of me.’

‘And that was when you decided to kill them?’

Reid shook his head. ‘No. Even then, Victoria’s therapy held.’

‘What then?’

‘The evil bastard came over and introduced himself to my dad. They chatted while I was struck dumb with fear. I listened as he bragged about this and that. About how influential he was. About how, even though he was retired, the rich and powerful still feared him. He knew where the bodies were buried, he said. George assumed he was talking about his time on the newspaper. All the scandals and secrets they’d uncovered when they were tapping the rich and powerful. I knew he was talking about my friends.’

That would do it . . .

‘The feeling of hate overwhelmed me, Poe. It was all I could do not to slit his throat there and then. For more than a minute, I stared at my steak knife as I considered it. Prison would have been a small price to pay to avenge my friends.’

‘But . . .?’

‘But something inside stopped me. A cold logic stayed my hand. Killing one of them made no sense.’

Reid stared at Poe.

‘Not when I could kill them all.’

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Victoria Reid had been diagnosed with motor neurone disease later that year, and Reid vowed nothing would happen while she was alive; he loved her too much.