Nightfall by Stephen Leather

Author:Stephen Leather
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Private investigators, Suicide, Fathers and sons, Crime, Suspense fiction, Thrillers, Suspense, Fiction, Demonology
ISBN: 9781444700640
Publisher: Hodder General Publishing Division
Published: 2010-04-28T23:00:00+00:00

37

First thing on Tuesday morning the forensics lab phoned Jenny. When she’d hung up she hurried into Nightingale’s office. ‘The lab came back with the results,’ she said. ‘Rebecca Keeley’s your mother.’

‘There’s no doubt?’ said Nightingale.

‘Only that one in six billion nonsense,’ said Jenny. ‘She’s your birth-mother, no question of it. They’re sending me a fax to confirm it and their bill.’

‘Will petty cash cover it?’ asked Nightingale, hopefully.

‘It might if we had any,’ said Jenny. ‘We’ll need a cheque.’

Jenny’s computer beeped to tell her that she had received an email. She went over to her desk while Nightingale phoned Hillingdon Home and spoke to Mrs Fraser, who told him that Miss Keeley had slept through the night and now seemed much calmer. Nightingale explained that, following a DNA test, he was now sure that Rebecca Keeley was his mother, but thought better of mentioning that he’d stolen the hairbrush. Mrs Fraser said she had no objections to Nightingale visiting again. This time he didn’t take flowers, but he had with him an old photograph album.

The male nurse met him in Reception and explained that his mother was sitting in the garden. It wasn’t so much a garden as a patch of grass with a couple of wooden benches, a rockery filled with heathers of various hues, and a stone birdbath covered with sparrow droppings. Nightingale’s mother was on one of the benches, wearing a tweed coat and a purple headscarf. She was staring at the birdbath and stroking the crucifix around her neck.

‘I like her to get some fresh air now and again,’ said the nurse. ‘I’ll take her back inside in half an hour.’ He pointed at a large picture window overlooking the garden. Three old women were sitting in armchairs, staring blankly through the glass. ‘I’ll be in the residents’ lounge,’ he said. ‘If she starts getting agitated again, I’ll have to end the visit.’

‘I understand,’ said Nightingale.

He went over to the bench and sat down next to her, unbuttoning his raincoat. He had the photograph album on his lap and said hello, but she ignored him.

‘It’s me, Jack,’ he said. ‘I’ve come back to see you.’

There was no sign that she was aware he was there. He opened the album. The first picture was of himself at only a few days old, wrapped in a white cloth, his eyes wide open. ‘This is me, not long after I was born,’ he said. He pushed the album towards her. ‘Do you remember me as a baby? Did you see me when I was born or did he take me away from you straight away? I know you’re my mother, Rebecca. I checked. There’s no doubt. I’m your son.’

The woman looked down at the picture, still rubbing the crucifix between her thumb and first finger.

‘Do you recognise me, Rebecca? Do you recognise the baby in this picture?’

‘Edward?’ she whispered.

‘Edward? Is that the name you gave me? Is that what you called me? My name’s Jack now, Jack Nightingale.’ He turned the page.

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