Sweetest Lie (CH34)

          start of ***SWEETEST  LIE***

 🌼 Relief flooded him when  Saskia called in the morning. Usually he'd have gone to the supermarket and back by now, but food and supplies were the last thing on his mind. In the grand, exposed scheme of this nightmare, Neil decided not to burden her with yesterday's bitter events. Why spoil what he hoped had been a poignant and binding time for mother and daughter? 

    She flooded him with apologies for her lack of contact, excusing it as simply needing to reassure her mum. Of what she wasn't too clear and he didn't ask, but after her absence he was happy enough with knowing she'd be with him that night. 

    But an hour before she was due to arrive, he was hit with a text that reads: I'm sorry. I don't expect you to  forgive me. With her phone going straight to voicemail, a feeling of encroaching horror swept over him in waves and goosebumps. Later, a buzz from concierge catapulted him from his tumultuous thoughts. This is it he told himself.

DCI. Bruce and his same sidekick were shown in and invited to sit. This time Neil went straight to no- pussyfooting strategy. No offer of coffee came and he remained standing, but felt as if he should just offer up his wrists to handcuffs instead. Hadn't he only just been prolonging the inevitable? 'You've been to see my daughter then, I take it?'

    'We've been to see Miss Reymarr, yes.'

    Neil gave a mighty sigh. Given the text he received from her, it had been harrowingly obvious. In what manner the truth came out he had no clue, he just hoped they weren't too forceful with her. 'Is she alright?' 

   Bruce dropped his look to his shoes, gave no immediate answer and this sent Neil's heart racing, and his breath to catch deeply in his chest. 'Please tell me she's not done anything stupid?'  

    'The girl's not come to any harm, she's... fine.'

    'Fine.' Neil echoed, while both men's steely eyes fixed upon him. Several hefty seconds passed with still no vocal flow from them; this hesitancy just drying his mouth even more. 'I don't get it... how could she possibly be fine?' 

    'She's physically fine, but we obviously can't account for her well-being in other respects.'

    'So she's been charged?' 

    'Well enquiries are still ongoing there for now, but we're not sure what any charge will be yet...'

    'What?' Neil, gave an insolent smirk, shaking his head, unsure what to make of being told that; he had no patience or energy left for any intended toying from them. 'But you know now that I have been sleeping with her. Colour it how you like - fucking, screwing, shagging - whatever sick term you feel you should choose, incest has been committed, hasn't it?'  There. It was said; even though it sounded as if they might be finding some lesser charge for Saskia.  But for the law to be given such a quick and clear cut confession, they were sitting remarkably quiet, Prentice's long-drawn sigh making the only sound. They seemed peculiarly reluctant to speak at all, never mind read him his rights.

   'Jesus Christ! Just say what you have to say, do what you have to do, there's fuck all we could do to make anyone understand anyhow.... '

    Oh how he'd gotten it wrong. The detectives gave each other a prime stare before Bruce rubbed his chin. 'Thing is, Mr. Balfour, there is something more pressing that you don't understand.'

    Neil sighed frustratedly. 'How much more fucking pressing could things get? C'mon then I'm dying to hear this.'

    'Okay.' Bruce dropped his hand, this time getting what he was needing to say out. 'Actually, there's been no sexual offence committed here. Saskia Reymarr? She's not your daughter.' 

    He let out a stupefied laugh, his features tied up in confusion. 'I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean by not my daughter.'

    'I'm sorry, but she's not.'  

    'No, no...  her mother let me know in May of last year after she was diagnosed with cancer... I didn't even know about her till then.' he explained, one corner of his mouth pulling up, what were they on about?  'I'm totally confused here. I don't know what the hell's going on.'  

    'None of that was true.'

    Neil tucked his hands under moist-ridden armpits, shaking his head. This was impossible; he was not  allowing such words to register. 'That's fucking crap, I'll get her on the phone right now. Her mother can be a nightmare at times, I don't know what she's playing at, but you're wrong.'

    The men allowed him to fetch his mobile and punch away at the keys; knowing there would be no answer. He dialled both numbers. Voicemail. After three attempts he gave up and stood enveloped in possibility, room devoid of speech till it all sank in.

   The absence. The distancing. The avoidance. The apology. All he had left was pain-coated denial.

   'Nah!' Neil whispered to himself. 'I'd have known.'

   'If you sit down, sir, we'll inform you of our findings.'

   He sat, staring down at stretched out fingers, checking for dirt under his fingernails.  Bruce had to check he felt well enough for them to continue. Neil nodded, clasped his hands tightly together, forcing himself to listen on. The twisted world he'd fallen into was about to get a lot more intense.

    'Look. This wasn't the outcome expected from our inquiries, far from it, but there are three main points here that are highly relative and you need to know. Firstly, the girl is not your daughter, she's the niece of Beverly Reymarr. Secondly, the said-same woman doesn't and never has had cancer. Thirdly, it was all a ploy to commit fraud - to extort money from you.'

    Bang! Bang! Bang! The three points fired, succinct and loud and clear. Neil got lost in torturous thought as the devastating news sunk in, and the men allowed him another short bout of respective silence. 

    'Money?' 

    'Do you understand all that's been said?' Bruce repeated. 

    Neil dropped his head, and gave a contemptuous sneer. 'I've been deprived of a daughter because of money... '

    This all came across as bizarre as fuck, and even a seasoned professional like Bruce was struggling to understand him. This man had just been cleared of an impending incest charge and he didn't feel relief; he still wanted her to be his kid. And Bruce could tell that young Prentice was dying to stick his oar in, but shoe-tapped him to keep quiet; his methods of revelation wouldn't be quite as respectful. 'Believe me, when we say we've dug deeply into this - she's not your daughter, and Beverly Reymarr is not her mother. This was an extraordinary attempt at extortion. We know it's come as a shock - it was to us - but the uppermost concern that needs addressing is the attempted fraud. There could be other roads like this she's went down.' 

Neil hardly blinked. 

 'Mr. Balfour?'

 The inside of his mouth had dried completely and he croaked out a 'yes', still staring rock-hard at the table, suddenly rising. 'I need a drink,' he said, 'can I get you both something?'

    'No. Yes' they answered in unison, the older of them shushing the other. 'Yes, milk and two each, thanks.'   

    With all beveridges made and delivered,  Neil glanced at the picture of the now invented father and daughter, then leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin as though to help keep his weary head up. 'Okay,' he said, trying to look composed enough to hear what horrid truth was about to permeate and crush him to bits. 'How did all this come to light?'

    Bruce lifted up his note pad in case he needed it for reference, and began. 'It seems Beverly Reymarr wrapped you up in an... allegory, almost - making you believe she had cancer, when in fact it was a friend of hers she runs her café with that does. From there she concocted the story of Saskia Reymarr and yourself more or less being the daughter and father whom knew nothing of each other until this so called 'poignant' illness. Once having you involved and falling for it, the intention was to give it enough time, solidify your relationship with the girl, and grab what money they could. The ultimate plan was to go live in luxury abroad with the biological mother of Saskia Reymarr.'

   The words flowed through his veins in a fast icy flow. 'What a couple of scheming bitches.' 

   'Yup!' Prentice piped up loudly and unexpectedly, and Bruce picked up on his serves you right tone for the offensive part he played, nonetheless.   

  'Anyway... ' Bruce continued, 'what we found remarkable was the mother tried to take sole blame - something she said she'd do if a situation like this arose. But the girl, quite loudly and adamantly dismissed her mother's ongoing attempt to do so, confessing that it was a joint attempt at fraud - she was extremely forthcoming with information. Although the idea and master-thinking was cleverly idealized by the older woman, the girl was eventually convinced to take part.'

    While Neil sat, silent and stunned, Bruce gave a curt nod to his partner, encouraging him now to speak. He was picking up the ropes to this job fast, despite undertones of his personal opinion popping out in sneaky, cynical ways.   

   'I, ah, guess you'll be able to fill in the more personal side, but we believe the catalyst or incitement to the plan was the fact that a Snr. Mr. Raymarr  - the father and grandfather - died not too long ago and there was bad blood between him and your own father.' 

    'What?' Neil gave a wry laugh. 'That was over thirty years ago, for fuck's sake!' Bruce raised his eyebrows and shrugged as if to say, well now you know. Never had a case with such a rapid twist garnered that much disbelief to his department. 

  'All this time and I suspected nothing.' Neil gave another slow shake of his head as shame and idiocy stirred. 

   'Were sorry to have broken such news to you,' Bruce said, 'but we weren't quite expecting this outcome.'

  'No.' Neil agreed, but knew they would have returned at some point, despite having convinced Saskia it was the end of any police matter. 'Guess I've got Valerie to thank in a fucked up, roundabout way for that.'

  This fomented a reaction from both men, chins jerking up to look at him.

  'I found out it was Mrs. Djerek who informed you.' 

  Neither Bruce nor Prentice gave confirmation if Neil's identification of the woman was correct, which in itself verified they now all new.

  Urged by her niece to 'do the right thing' in informing the police, Valerie would have been a believable enough source to what had been witnessed. Other elements to such a lurid find have to be considered; coercion, blackmail, and other such sources. If he was depraved enough to sleep with his daughter, what else could he have been capable of?

   DCI. Bruce's expertise largely dealt with rape, sex-trafficking, vulnerability and child abuse cases; he'd never covered a case of consensual incest before and wondered how this one would have eventually panned out. It wasn't unheard of - absent relatives meeting for the first time and requiting, over-compensating on emotion. If up to Prentice, he'd still be looking for loopholes to cuff the old bastard, despite having nothing on him now.

   'So, what happens now?' Neil asked, genuinely lost.

   'Now?' 'Bruce sighed heavily, somewhat adrift himself.  'I suggest you give it a couple of days to get over the shock, it's been quite a lot to take in. But with the girl's candidness you have good grounds for an attempted fraud charge.' 

   'Did they accept any money from you?' Prentice chimed in. Both women had denied receiving any substantial sized amounts, but he inwardly hoped he'd been stiffed good and proper.

    'No.' he answered. No point in including the few hundred here and there he threw at Saskia for some benign reason or other, nor the gifts, the car, or the £50,000 he donated to the breast cancer charity; all that was of his own choosing. 'Wouldn't matter if they had anyway.' He smiled at the sting of the irony.

   'What makes you say that?' Prentice asked.

   'Come on... do you really think I would make a case out of this? Public knowledge? You need clear and convincing evidence in court, don't you? Even the best lawyer in the land couldn't wrangle this one to my advantage. The fact that despite being duped, and we shared no blood line at all, I was still technically going to bed with my daughter. Besides, you were told about our fathers' past, weren't you? My father was a crook; if that came out it wouldn't be good for business, would it? Mud sticks. I couldn't risk it.' A sudden heavy tiredness descended over him and the detectives could almost feel the mental exhaustion fume from him. 'I think we know the score here, gents; I've brought all this on myself, you've done all you can.' All Neil wanted now was for them to go.

   Taking the hint, they stood and were escorted to the door. Opening it for them, he asked: 'What's the worst that could happen to Saskia?' No regard to the older woman.

   'They've been asked not to take off anywhere as we'd most likely be back. But the ball is in your court, so to speak, and we still strongly advise you act.' 

  'Yeah, we can't issue anything other than a caution without more from you.' Prentice added.  

    Bruce shot him a short look of reproach, he knew the fascination with this case more or less ends here. 'Just be glad that they never extorted a huge sum already; they could have left the country months ago.' So why hadn't they? Bruce had his own, personal opinion to that one, but said nothing and flicked a business card in his fingers for Neil to take. 'Take a bit of time to gather your bearings, think yourself lucky and don't do anything hasty. Get in touch if need be.' 

Before driving from the complex, the men lit cigarettes and reflected on the way this case had totally rejigged from sexual to fraudulent. Not that Bruce was sure how proceedings in an incest case would fare out; it depended on which judge presided. 

   But he doubted it would have led to anything drastic such as serving time. The moral view and story would most likely have halted any such outcome, with therapy and orders to keep apart put in place.  Oh, how such a case would have made huge media storm. They knew that power behind money couldn't hush every scandal and all this one would do was highlight facts best kept quiet. And for that matter, Prentice, who longed for his first major court case, felt shattered.

   'You know the most warped thing in all this?'

   'Go on.' 

   'Even under threat of an incest charge, he was devastated that they weren't related more than the fact that he'd not been fucking his daughter after all. Someone's squealed and a deficient bloodline is aggrieving him more? Maybe that's the fact he can't cope with - she's lost her appeal.'

   'What? Like he got more of a kick sleeping with her because of who she was?'

   'Well, yeah. Anyone would be relieved to be off the hook over something so serious. He showed no sign of assuagement once the truth was established, whereas—'

  'Whereas at the start he was ready for the full confession.' Bruce finished for him, admiring his deductive reasoning. 'Regardless, he's got to live with the fact that she's not his offspring, that in itself will be a struggle, plus he also has to live with the indignity of being a high-flyer who was taken for a mug for so long.' 

   'Some might say he deserved it, because of his business stature.'

   'When you've been in this game as long as I have, you quickly learn that respectability hides many a dark secret. It's the wealthy and the entitled that shock you the worst.'

   'Probably because money makes them think they're invincible... D'you think he'll pursue a fraud charge? It's a bastard how this one's turned out.'

  Bruce smiled at Prentice's disappointment in not pinning one on the dirty old geezer and drove off shaking his head. The newbie was sounding more like a chief superintendent than a low grader in the S.O.D.  His cogitation of this case needed wider assessment, but it was a sign he was getting the hang of things.  Give it a few more weeks and he'll be sickened by the commonality of abuse like rape and child molestation. In contrast, what Neil Balfour and Saskia Reymarr were initially being grilled over read more like a case of morals gone awry at worst. Photos of sexual assault victims were far more disturbing than the father and daughter in a photograph that stands in a frame. Lovers or not. 

   'Yes... it's a bastard,' Bruce agreed, simply to pacify him, 'and the paperwork will be an even bigger bastard! But I wouldn't hold your breath over Balfour making any further moves.'  

   For what it was worth, (though he was hardly going to promulgate it) Bruce felt a fraction of sympathy for Balfour.  It was bad enough that the girl both screwed him while screwing him over, but he'd now been made both victim and fool, and that would soon hit and hurt him harder than any flesh or blood related tyranny had that been the actual case. Murder someone and you get all the rehabilitation time you need for outlet back in society. Fall in love and have consensual sex with a blood relative - physically harming no-one - and you're the scourge of society. But laws are upheld for a reason, and courts should hold no relaxation for such cases. Even if the supporting story is unprecedented in nature and well-disposed towards, it still carries pain and controversy for others - usually family members.  

                                                    

Barefoot and leaning over his balcony railing, he realized the vibrant and manic change Saskia had introduced into his life had vanished. The distant clamor of London swelled in his ears, louder than before, making him feel a part of that unspoken frenzy.  

    Unsure how long he had been outside, his feet started to tingle and colour with the cold. Shock had brought his body to stillness as he stood there, a nugatory father, numb and insignificant.

   He could kill Beverly right now. Bare hands. For bringing the damned girl into his life under such cunning exploitation. Saskia had played the game, played the man, played all the right moves in the finest of character. So where had that intrinsic feeling, that wholesome belonging come from? Even now, if he had her DNA tested he would half expect a positive result. 

   Turning his back on the city, he slunk indoors. His feet called out for warmth, and as he stepped back onto plush carpet, he still had no clue about what his next move - if any - would be. But before he made any judgement call, he called for some help for himself from his old friend Jack. Swiftly he lifted the bottle from the drinks display and walked with him to the kitchen. He picked out a highball glass, one with dainty daisies on that had not long moved in, and filled it half-way.  He looked into the liquid and  watched a ripple ebb across the top from his shaky hand, giving no concern for his bare feet as the glass smashed into shards and smithereens against the edge of the sink.

         

                    end of  ***SWEETEST  LIE***

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