was a police officer and not some random person.
The woman’s head moved from side to side. Then she turned back to continue staring at the front doors. Morgan shrugged; some people didn’t want help. Huge black clouds were rolling in from the top of the patchwork, bracken-covered slopes of Skiddaw which overlooked the valley Rydal Falls had been built in. Having no jacket, she hurried towards the entrance. Lake District weather was temperamental and it had its own unique system which often defied the Met Office. She almost made it inside when she heard a car door slam behind her. Pausing, she turned around. The dishevelled woman was rushing towards her.
‘Wait, are you a police officer?’
‘Yes. Can I help you?’
She shrugged. ‘Probably not, I just needed to talk to someone about what’s happening.’
‘With what?’
And then the tears began to flow, silent at first as she blinked furiously to hold them back, but it was as if the dam had been broken and a loud heart-wrenching sob erupted from the woman, startling Morgan. A huge rain drop landed on Morgan’s nose, followed by a succession of them, getting heavier by the second. She gently took hold of the woman’s arm, leading her inside the building, but not before both of them were damp. As they stepped inside, the heavens opened and the loud drumming of the rain as it rattled against the glass made her difficult to understand.
Brenda came out of the front office to see what was happening. She pointed towards one of the side rooms. Morgan led the woman across towards it. As the door swung inwards, Brenda mouthed ‘Are you okay?’ She nodded, for now they were, pointing to a seat. The woman sat down and buried her head in her hands; tears were still flowing.
‘Brenda, would you get…?’ She realised she had no idea who she was talking to. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Helen, Helen Taylor.’
‘Could you please get Helen a cup of tea?’
She disappeared and Morgan waited for Helen to compose herself. There was a box of tissues on the table, and she pulled a handful out, passing them to her.
‘Thank you, I’m sorry.’
‘No need to apologise, but do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ She expected her to say her husband had been cheating on her and taken all her money or her partner had beaten her. She never expected what came out.
‘I don’t know where to begin. My family, they’re dead. I’ve lost them and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.’
‘Helen, who are your family?’ she asked, but already knew the answer. Entire families dying wasn’t a regular occurrence around here.
‘My daughter, Olivia, the children – oh God, my beautiful grandchildren – and Saul.’
Morgan reached out, clasping her hand in hers. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Helen. I know how upset you must be, but Bronte is still okay, isn’t she?’ She wondered if the girl had died and she hadn’t been notified.
‘How do you know Bronte? Yes, she’s on life support, but she may as well be dead. Her poor head. When I spoke to the doctor on the phone he said she’d suffered possible life-changing injuries. She is such a pretty, clever thing. Her everything has been stolen from her and I don’t know what to do.’
Morgan wished with all her heart that Dan was here beside her. He was pretty good at dealing with distraught relatives, his lack of empathy making him give calm, sensible advice. All Morgan wanted to do was to bawl along with the poor woman whose entire life had been ripped to pieces. Ben would be even better; he’d had years of experience. The door opened and Brenda came in with two steaming mugs of tea and a couple of packets of sugar. She put them on the table.
‘Thank you, please could you ring Ben or Amy? Anyone from upstairs will do.’
She nodded and left them.
‘I know some things; I need to tell someone about them. Can I talk to you?’
‘Of course, I was the officer who found your family, Helen. I was first on scene for Olivia, then Saul and the girls. I found Bronte and called for the ambulance and I’m now investigating their murders.’
There was silence between them as Helen picked up the mug of tea and began to sip it. Morgan didn’t interrupt her, but waited for her to speak.
After dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose, Helen looked at her.
‘I’m sorry, I’m a mess. I’ve done nothing but cry since I